The Scarlets tried to stop her. Their red circles flared like warning lights. But their power flickered—thin, overwrought, afraid.
“You’re still alive,” she whispered. scarlet revoked
She untied the silk sash with steady fingers. Each fold she unwrapped felt like peeling away a layer of skin. The robe slid from her shoulders with a whisper, and the cold air of her studio struck her like a betrayal. The eunuch took it, folding it with practiced reverence, as if the cloth itself might shatter. The Scarlets tried to stop her
Now, it was being taken.
Lin Wei looked down at the garment she had worn for thirty years. It was not merely red. It was Scarlet —the specific, sacred hue granted only to the empire’s most accomplished ritualists. The dye had been mixed from the first light of dawn striking a phoenix’s crest, fixed with the blood of a willing martyr. Wearing it meant she could command the city’s protective wards, speak the prayers that kept the harvest rains on time, and stand in the Empress’s presence without kneeling. “You’re still alive,” she whispered