Far away from the bloody scene, on the other side of the mortal plane, the Forgotten Waters sect slowly sank into darkness. As the last rays of the sun dipped behind the mountains, shadows began to creep onto the sect whilst the floating islands hovered like silent sentinels high above the waters.
The Bestiary Division's island was alight with luminous will o' wisps and numerous paper lanterns, casting a soft glow along the path leading to the inner disciples' residences.
The bedroom at Captain Liang's private quarters was dimly lit on this quiet evening. The room's interior was filled with intricate furniture carved from expensive red sandalwood, every single piece a rich, dark reddish-brown. Yet, without a direct light source, each of the pieces of furniture would lose all colour, appearing instead as dense black shapes, their lustre all but invisible.
The room was filled with a depressing atmosphere, heavy and thick.
Inside this gloomy bedroom, a lone figure covered by a thick blanket sat upon a round, drum stool, staring outside a window covered by panelled screens.
For the past several months, the small shred of happiness which the owner of this room once felt, had long since vanished.
Liang Rou Yan's beady eyes flashed with undisguised hatred as she peeked out from inside the pair of holes in the fabric wrapped around her face. She gnashed her teeth with an audible sound, squeezing her bandaged jaw roughly with her hand. She was the succeeding disciple of the Bestiary Division, the woman whose reputation had once been synonymous with talent, strength and honour. Everyone within the Bestiary Division used to look up to her, had marvelled at the sight of her wherever she went.
And now? Since her last encounter with that wretched furnace, Li Meirong, all of her dignity had been torn to shreds.
Even her fair looking face had been permanently marred by that wretched furnace, as she had used her vile spirit beast to execute her commands.
It was so shameful...so demeaning! For a cultivator like her, who was at the very end of the first stage, to be so heavily wounded by the claws of a mere tiny fox spirit!. To this day, she simply couldn't fathom how was it even possible for that small baby fox to possess the capability to wound her.
'It must have been that wretched Li Meirong's plan all along!'
A woman's face was one of the most important parts about her. Liang Rou Yan didn't own a bewitching type of beauty. No, she had broader shoulders than most women, and was taller than the average man. Usually, she dressed herself in a simple fashion, in a manner which she knew her master would appreciate more. She had never even gone as far as to make an elaborate updo for her long hair or flaunt her wealth as other female cultivators often do.