The gates of the Star Cloud Sect creaked open, a stark contrast to the triumphant smirk that graced Wang Jian's lips. His entourage, an embodiment of darkness punctuated by the vibrant beauty of Pavilion Mistress Cui Lan, followed closely behind.
Inside the Sect's grand council hall, tension crackled in the air. Ba Rong'er, her heart heavy with a mix of humiliation and fear, led the way. The remaining elders of the Star Cloud Sect stood stiffly on either side, their faces etched with a mixture of shame and defiance.
Wang Jian, his steps deliberate, strode towards the head seat. He sank onto the throne-like chair, the symbol of the Sect's authority now a mockery with him occupying it. Ba Rong'er, her chin held high despite the churning emotions within, approached a nearby chair, one typically occupied by senior elders.