Even Instructor Ceng straightened at that voice, giving her a respectful nod. “Honored Outer Sect Disciple. I hold the highest respect for the members of the Bloody Saffron Sect.” A wistful glint glimmered in the depths of his eyes. “I’ve seen what your kind are capable of. There are no greater monsters than the ones who stand at the top of the sect.”

“I’ll take that as a complement.” Zhihu turned to the two of them, then. “You two will show me what it means, your conviction. I expect to be pleased.” Then she simply crossed her arms and all but melted back into the shadows of the room— not quite gone, but difficult to place as present, too.

A few minutes later, one final person arrived— the most welcome of the lot, too. Compared to Instructor Ceng sprawled out on the couch and the invisible and probably entirely psychological presence of the Outer Sect Disciple, Mingtian’s mundane presence was very much welcome.

His gaze swept across the room before he just rolled his eyes, holding up a bag. “I brought the formation you asked for. The bloodoakwood staves proved more than adequate to handle the burden of the design, but the strain is… intense on the mortal silk of the flags. By design, the shielding will break before the formation though, so it should last for some time.”

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Before she could blink, Zhihu was holding the bag, one hand reaching inside of it to pull out a… flag? She blinked, focusing in on it and realizing that— obviously— it was no normal flag. The wooden sticks they were tied to were so deep a red they almost seemed to glisten like blood, and she could almost feel the faint prickle of their presence on the roof of her mouth. The silk pendants too were embroidered with incredibly precise rune-work which must’ve taken Mingtian forever. The way it glimmered, the dense lattice of gold thread over the scarlet-red of the cloth beneath it…

Zhihu ran a finger across its length, silently watching the way it caught the refulgent electric lighting overhead and cast it back, the glow of new dawn reflecting over still water. “Impressive. It’s beautiful. I didn’t know your embroidery skills were so good.”

“I’m rather good with a needle.” There was a slightly amused lilt to his voice— like he was telling a joke that nobody but him would be able to understand. “I trust it’s satisfactory?”