The announcement hit the sect like a stone dropped into a hornet's nest.
Within an hour, the celebratory atmosphere of the tournament final had dissolved into something electric and uneasy. Disciples clustered in corridors, whispering. Elders retreated behind closed doors. The servants moved faster, heads down, carrying the particular tension of people who understood that when powerful figures fell, the small ones standing nearby often got crushed.
Qin Wen disappeared.
Not fled. He was too smart for that. Fleeing would be an admission, and Qin Wen never admitted anything. He simply stopped being visible. His quarters were occupied, the lights burned behind his windows each night, but he did not attend meals. He did not walk his morning route. He did not cross the stone bridge over the carp pond where his messengers used to wait.
Jiang Yi reported that the bridge was empty for the first time in eight months.
