The patterns of fate interweave like silk threads in moonlight—visible only to those who know where to look, yet binding all who touch them.
— Sage Li Wei, Keeper of the Eternal Patterns
Xiulan directed servants to prepare the manor’s finest hall for Prince Hao. The prince’s theatrical complaints echoed through the corridors as he inspected every detail—from the jade-inlaid screens to the imported silk cushions. Each criticism rang hollow, delivered with practiced indifference rather than genuine displeasure. It wouldn’t have mattered if she’d offered him the Imperial Palace itself—the complaints seemed more ritual than substance.
After the prince settled in, Xiulan met with Tajin, her mother, and Mei Chen in a private study. The scent of her mother’s tea wafted through the air as servants poured fresh cups.
Xiulan straightened her robes. "Why exactly am I under arrest?"
Tajin sipped his tea before setting the cup down with deliberate care. "Prince Hao serves as Lord Chao’s patron. For years, Chao has consolidated power throughout the region on behalf of the Ministry of Investigation."
"So the prince intends to brand me a rogue cultivator?" Xiulan’s fingers tightened around her teacup.
"Not quite." Tajin shook his head. "Initially, I believe he planned to negotiate—your innocence in exchange for Lord Chao’s release. But..."
"But?" Xiulan prompted, studying Tajin’s measured expression.
"Your ’friend’ likely terrified him. Combined with such a decisive victory..." Tajin adjusted his turquoise robes. "Tell me truthfully—did you actually sever Lord Chao’s legs?"
"Yes." Xiulan sipped her tea without hesitation.
A slight smile tugged at Tajin’s lips. "That could have been a rash decision, but it serves now. Lord Chao will be useless to the prince. He’ll likely discard him, and relieve you of charges."
Zhao Lian set down her cup. "There are many matters requiring attention." She glanced at Xiulan. "Perhaps you should check on Feng Yu? She seemed upset earlier."
"This meeting is important." Xiulan frowned at the suggestion.
"You’ll be leaving soon. There’s no need to become more entangled here." Zhao Lian smoothed her robes. "You should seek your own path."
"When did you speak with Master Qingfeng?" Xiulan’s eyes narrowed.
"Only briefly." Zhao Lian looked at Mei Chen. "You both must do your best. I’ll handle House Lin’s affairs—you needn’t worry."
"I’m not certain I care if House Lin survives." Xiulan stared into her teacup.
The sentiment settled cold and hard in her chest. The Lin name meant nothing to her—just empty characters devoid of significance. Only Zhang Wei and her mother stirred any warmth in her heart.
A sharp crack split the silence. Through a half-open door, Zhang Wei stood frozen, his wooden practice sword clattering against the floor. His small hands balled into tight fists before he spun and bolted down the hallway.
"Ah fuck." Xiulan pushed back from the table.
"That was not ideal, nor proper to say, Xiulan." Zhao Lian’s shoulders tensed beneath her silk robes.
"Yes mother, I shouldn’t have said that." Xiulan rubbed her temples. "I’m afraid he’ll misunderstand..."
"I’ll speak with Lady Lian while you attend to the young lord." Tajin adjusted his turquoise sleeves.
Xiulan strode into the hallway with Mei Chen shadowing her steps. The corridors stretched empty in both directions without a trace of Zhang Wei.
"This way." Mei Chen tugged Xiulan’s sleeve and pointed toward the ceiling.
"The attic?"
Mei Chen nodded. "He’s up there."
Of course she can sense him . Xiulan located the ladder and climbed into the musty space above. Zhang Wei huddled in the corner, arms wrapped tight around his knees.
She crawled through the attic, fresh sawdust coating her palms and knees. Shafts of lantern light pierced through gaps in the floor boards, illuminating dancing motes in the air. Zhang Wei pressed himself further into the shadowed corner as she approached.
"You should know what I mean." The words spilled from Feng Yu in a despondent tone, barely above a whisper.
Xiulan shook her head. "I don’t." She took a sip from the wine jug. "Aren’t you weak to alcohol? For a moment I thought you’d lose your head for disrespecting the prince and not kowtowing properly! Thankfully he’s fickle and blind."
Feng Yu blinked rapidly. "You... you’re not...?"
Xiulan leaned back, letting her hair cascade over Feng Yu’s leg as she stared up at the star-filled sky. "I’m not what? A good sister? A good daughter? I’m probably the worst."
The moonlight caught Feng Yu’s amber eyes, making them glow brighter than the moon above. Xiulan’s breath caught at the intensity of that gaze bearing down on her.
"I... I..." Feng Yu stammered.
Xiulan reached up and pressed her palm against Feng Yu’s cheek. The skin felt warm beneath her touch. "Need to say something? You don’t. Not to me. I’m just here to support my sister when she needs it."
Feng Yu parted her lips, hesitated, then lifted her gaze to the stars scattered across the inky sky. "My mother died in a fire." The words fell soft yet sharp into the night air. "They meant to kill me too, but I turned out to be... special." She traced circles on the weathered stone. "When the building burned, everyone who loved me burned with it. No one remained to care."
Xiulan squeezed Feng Yu’s hand. "You survived. That shows incredible strength."
Silence settled between them like a comfortable blanket. From the manor, muted voices and occasional laughter drifted through the garden as the celebration wound down. Guards called out the watch changes while servants extinguished lanterns one by one.
Something cool and smooth slithered across Xiulan’s forehead. Her eyes crossed as she tried to focus on the intruder. "Liuhuo!"
Feng Yu glanced down at Xiulan and burst into bright laughter. The small serpent coiled into a neat spiral atop Xiulan’s head, scales gleaming in the starlight.
"There’s a snake on my head!" Xiulan stared upward, frozen in place.
"He likes treats," Feng Yu said, her eyes twinkling with amusement as Liuhuo remained coiled.
"I don’t—" Xiulan paused, feeling the serpent’s cool scales against her scalp. "I don’t have any treats. What does a spiritual beast even eat?"
"Little pieces of meat usually work." Feng Yu stretched her arms above her head. "Since you lack proper bribes, you’ll need to wait for him to move on his own."
Liuhuo’s tongue flicked out, tasting the night air. A soft hiss of agreement echoed in the quiet garden.
Xiulan lifted her hand, extending one finger toward the serpent. She prodded his scales gently. The tiny dawn serpent responded by bumping his snout repeatedly against her fingertip.
"Hey!" Feng Yu straightened. "When I do that you bite me! Why does she get special treatment?"
The serpent uncoiled from Xiulan’s head in a fluid motion. He darted back up Feng Yu’s leg and back to her hand. At her wrist, he wrapped himself into a tight spiral and settled in, pointedly ignoring her question.
"Are you trying to win?" Feng Yu twisted the wine jug between her palms.
Xiulan smiled, watching the moonlight dance across the empty pond. "I don’t think keeping score benefits either of us."
"Because I’d win?" Feng Yu’s lips quirked upward.
"Because I want our relationship to stay pure." Xiulan looked at her. "My family’s safety matters most—and that includes my martial sister. Keep your secrets until you’re ready. No pressure."
Feng Yu exhaled deeply, shoulders dropping. "How can you not demand answers? Weren’t you angry when Liuhuo appeared without warning? A guardian spirit of this caliber..." She gestured at the serpent. "The odds are astronomical."
"Hmm." Xiulan tapped her chin thoughtfully. "By that logic, wouldn’t Mei Chen put me far ahead in our imaginary competition?"
Liuhuo released a strange hissing sound—almost like laughter—and flicked his tongue toward Feng Yu.
"You did not get ’stuck’ with me!" Feng Yu jabbed her finger at the serpent.
The tiny golden dawn serpent lunged forward, clamping his teeth around her fingertip before beginning to gnaw.
Xiulan’s laughter echoed across the empty garden.