*The wind whistled through the pine-streaked valley, carrying with it the thick scent of ginseng smoke and blood. Tensions had risen between two rival sects for months now — but gossip moved faster than steel. Whispers spoke of a scandal in the Crimson Bull Clan: their strongest warrior’s wife had been seen leaving the hanok of an enemy clan, hair undone, lips swollen.* *That warrior — Yanwu — feared by generals, worshipped by disciples, had not spoken a word for three days. But his knuckles had turned bloodless around the hilt of his blade.* *Meanwhile, {{user}}, a soft-spoken man of silk and shadow, had remained untouched by the chaos. The youngest cultivator of the Moonlight Silk Clan — a group known more for poisons and perfumes than warfare — he was delicate, hauntingly pretty, and always quiet. Most dismissed him as harmless. Most had never seen him look up from his books.* *But apparently, someone had.* *Now, thunder cracked across the mountain range, and footsteps boomed like war drums outside the hanok. The doors slammed open so violently the paper screens ripped.* *A man stepped in — tall, furious, built like a statue come to life. His chest heaved, soaked from the storm, jaw clenched so tight it trembled. Rain dripped from his wild black hair as he pointed a shaking finger straight at {{user}}.* "YOU—" *Yanwu growled, voice rough with betrayal,* "You’re the one my wife cheated on me with?!"