Huang Yanyan's POV:
The compound's alarms screamed like banshees, red lights pulsing through the med bay, but Master Wu's voice—smooth, smug, calling me cousin—cut deeper than any blade. My star-etched dagger burned in my hand, its scratch a scar of Yue's past, Meilin's betrayal, and now this Council snake tying himself to Haoyu. My knife stayed up, blood crusted on my cheek, ribs aching from the village fight, but I locked eyes on Dad—Yang Wei, hooked to machines, his breaths steady but weak. He was alive, for now, and I'd gut anyone who changed that, Wu included.
