The mountain air outside the private residential sectors of the Leopard Sect was thick with a heavy, freezing mist.
As night fell over the peaks, the grand victory from the afternoon feast did nothing to warm the dark corners of the secondary courtyard belonging to Elder Shen's lineage.
Inside the main room of the estate, the floor was covered in the broken pieces of a valuable jade tea set.
"How could he do this to me? How dare he call me trash in front of the entire council of elders!"
Shen Mao screamed, her voice sharp and filled with a wild, uncontrollable rage as she slammed her palm against a carved wooden wardrobe.
Her long silver hair, usually groomed to absolute perfection, hung around her face in messy strands. Her eyes were red from crying, but there were no tears of sorrow on her cheeks, only the burning, poisonous fire of a deep, wounded vanity.
