Morning light had just spilled over the camp's flagpoles when Chen Wuya crouched outside his tent, sharpening his old short blade. Its edge was chipped, but he was in no hurry, pushing the whetstone over it stroke by stroke. His movements were unhurried, yet steady.
A menial disciple hurried over, clutching a letter. He held it out halfway, then hesitantly drew back his hand.
"For me?" Chen Wuya didn't look up.
"N-no... it's for Senior Sister Bai Zhi. But she's already gone up the mountain. I couldn't find her, so I could only give it to you."
Only then did Chen Wuya raise his head, his gaze settling on the envelope. The paper was the plain stationery used within the Azure Edge Sect, but it bore neither seal nor signature. There was only a slanted slash in the lower right corner, like a sword mark—or a strip of cloth torn apart.
He took the letter, his fingertips brushing the flap—it had not been sealed, merely folded shut. This was a habit of certain old-school inner disciples, meaning: "Not an official order, only a reminder."
"Who told you to deliver it?"
"An older brother with a gray armband was waiting by the training ground. He gave me some copper coins and told me I had to deliver it today."
Chen Wuya nodded and asked no more. He knew whose people wore that armband—the line of Elder Hanyue from the Northern Peak. They had always prided themselves on preserving the old ways; even their sword tassels had to be tied with hemp cord, never silk fringe.
He opened the letter and gave it a glance.
The handwriting was neat, the ink even and rich. It quoted three old passages from the Azure Edge Sect Rules: "The sect master who bears the seal