The storm of voices had ebbed, leaving only the faint creak of banners tugged by the wind. Evening had crept in unnoticed, its chill drawing long shadows across the flagstones. The air itself felt thin, emptied of warmth, yet weighted with the memory of all that had just transpired.

  Only then did Prince Tianze break the silence. His gaze lingered on Xiao Lei before shifting toward his sister. His voice was steady, almost casual, but edged with intent.

  “Does Sister know this boy?”

  Xinyue’s lashes lowered for a moment, concealing the flicker in her eyes. When she spoke, her tone was measured, as if her words had been sharpened in her heart before leaving her lips.

  “Second Brother remembers, does he not? A few months past, on my return from travels, we were ambushed. Many would have perished… had he not risked his life to save them.”

  Her reminder hung in the dusk like a blade’s gleam.

  “Oh.” Tianze’s reply was soft, nearly dismissive, but his eyes told otherwise. They narrowed, intent sharpening as though probing deeper. He understood, things were never so simple.

  “I will punish him,” Xinyue continued, her voice even, steady as stone. “But I hope his insolence can be forgiven… on my behalf.”

  Across from her, Mu Zhen gave a careless flick of his sleeve, lips twisting into something that was not quite a smile.

  “Princess, you are too soft. It is no great matter.”

  At the edge of the gathering, Mu Pei stood unmoving. He said nothing, but his clenched hand betrayed him. The knuckles had turned blood-red where nails bit into flesh. Beneath the hush, venom brewed. Rage swelled, slow and coiled, promising its day. He vowed Xiao Lei would pay—if not in the open, then in the dark, where no princess’s words could shield him.

  Xinyue inclined her head in farewell. Her silks whispered against the marble’s lifeless chill as she turned away. Her expression gave nothing, yet beneath the calm her thoughts swirled. Nothing had unfolded as she had expected.

  Xiao Lei had killed a guard before all eyes. He had dared strike Mu Pei. Even before Uncle Li himself, he had not bowed.

  Instead, he had said only—Move out of the way.

  The words lingered in her mind, stark and reckless. A pang pierced her chest, sharp and fleeting. ‘So much for his sister’s sake… how deeply he must love her.’

  The words she could never voice pressed at her throat, swallowed into silence.

  Had Xiao Lei known her secret wish, he would have smiled even through the blood on his lips. For this was his intent from the beginning. Let them believe he could be bent through Lian. Let them bind her, thinking they bound him as well. That illusion was his shield. That was the chain he wanted them to fasten tighter.

  By the time Xinyue reached her palace, night had fully settled. The air smelled of extinguished lamps and chilled stone. Servants guided her to a chamber lit softly by amber lanterns. There, on a low bed, Xiao Lei lay wounded, attended by physicians.

  Lian stood at his side, small hands twisting anxiously against her dress. Her eyes never left him, wide and shimmering with fear.

  The whisper from earlier stirred again in Xinyue’s chest, threatening to surface. She forced it down, burying it beneath the cool weight of her station.

  Uncle Li was already waiting. His figure stood straight as iron at the corner of the chamber. When she instructed that Xiao Lei be brought before her as soon as he woke, he inclined his head in silent assent.

  Shadows dragged longer by the time they entered the palace halls.

  The chamber was high-roofed, its pillars looming in shadow, torches casting restless light across polished stone. At the centre, Xinyue sat upon the main seat, her presence composed and unreadable. Uncle Li stood to her right, his gaze hard and unwavering.

  Xiao Lei’s right arm was wrapped in white bandages. The hand was stiff, marked by strain, but not entirely broken. He bore the injury with composure, his posture straight, his steps deliberate.

  Xinyue’s voice carried through the hall, cool and immovable.

  “As a servant, you killed a guard. You struck Mu Pei—publicly. Such defiance is punishable by death.”

  The words dropped like iron.

  Lian’s body trembled violently. Her lips parted and, before she could think, pleas spilled forth.

  “Big Sister, it was not Big Brother’s fault, please, please…!”

  Her voice cracked, frantic, her small form bowing under terror. For her, Xiao Lei had long since become her world entire. Even the shadow of losing him was unbearable.

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  In sharp contrast, Xiao Lei stood unmoved. Not a trace of regret darkened his face. His gaze fixed on Xinyue, steady and unflinching.

  Uncle Li frowned faintly, the lines of his face taut. He was impressed, if unwilling to admit it. Xiao Lei had clashed with one at the ninth stage of Qi Awakening and emerged with little more than bruises. His worth was undeniable. Yet worth alone was not enough. A pawn too stubborn to bend was a pawn too dangerous to keep.

  For the briefest moment, even Xinyue herself admired the courage in his eyes. But then the weight of duty smothered that spark. The same thought settled cold within her—such defiance could not be allowed.

  Uncle Li’s voice rang out, stern and heavy.

  “Xiao Lei. Are you not sorry for what you did?”

  The air thickened. Lian swayed where she stood, her knees giving way, about to collapse in desperation.

  But Xiao Lei reached out, halting her with a quiet gesture. His gaze remained locked on the two before him. His voice, when it came, was low yet unwavering.

  “I am sorry… for attacking Senior.”

  The sound seemed to recoil in the hall.

  He had not apologized for the guard. Not for Mu Pei. Only for the strike against Uncle Li—because it had been necessary to reach his true target.

  Uncle Li’s gaze lingered on the boy, cold and measuring. Useful, perhaps… but only if he can be chained.

  From Xinyue’s lowered lashes a faint glimmer stirred, quickly hidden. A blade that sharp—will it bend to my hand, or cut it open?

  “You stood for your sister without hesitation.” Xinyue’s voice cut through the chamber like the edge of a blade—calm, unhurried, neither praise nor condemnation. Her expression did not shift, yet a faint gravity weighed in her words. “That much, I cannot despise. For that courage, I will spare you this once… and only once. But do not mistake mercy for protection. The Mu family does not forget, and the blood you struck will not forgive so easily.”

  A faint ripple flickered across Xiao Lei’s eyes. It was the tremor of fear he allowed them to see, carefully measured, released like bait on a hook. Inside, he buried the true edge of his mind, lest it draw suspicion too soon. To show defiance now would be folly, to appear meek was optimal.

  From the side, Lian’s small voice broke the taut stillness. “Big sister… please, help us.” Her plea was fragile, raw, the kind that left no armour between.

  Xinyue turned her gaze to her attendant. “Uncle Li. What can be done?”

  The old man stroked his beard, pausing long enough for the faint creak of the hall beams to intrude, as though to remind them whose power held sway here.

  Then, with a tone of reluctant consideration, he said, “There is one path, Princess. This servant could be spared—if enrolled into the Royal Academy. Yet even after gaining entry, the cost of tuition is something many nobles themselves can scarcely endure, let alone one such as him.”

  A bow of the head concealed Xiao Lei’s inward sneer. Gratitude shaped his features, but within he tasted the sour bite of their scheme. So this is their hand—benevolence hiding chains.

  “Hm.” Xinyue’s lips curved in a thought that was not quite a smile. “Very well. I will bear the expense, and see to the arrangements myself. But, Xiao Lei—” her gaze sharpened, steady as moonlight over water—“you will swear upon the life of your sister. From this moment forth, your loyalty will belong to me alone. My word will be your law. You will follow my every command.”

  Hesitation flickered across Xiao Lei’s face, deliberate and slow. Lian leaned forward, her eyes shining with relief, her voice trembling with urgency. “Brother, hurry—don’t let this chance slip away. Swear it.”

  Her plea cut deeper than the princess’s threat. Xiao Lei let the pause linger, just long enough for it to seem like struggle. Then, with the practiced cadence of submission, he lowered himself to one knee and spoke the oath.

  His voice carried obedience. His heart whispered scorn.

  When it was done, he bent in formal salute. “I greet the Princess.”

  Xinyue inclined her head slightly, the gesture as cool as moonlight sealing a verdict. She gave her orders with the clarity of command. He was to present himself at the Royal Academy on the morrow. Their lodgings would be arranged.

  Bowing once more, Xiao Lei and Lian withdrew, their footsteps fading down the corridor. Behind them, the chamber grew still again, leaving only Xinyue and Uncle Li in the quiet—two shadows weighing what kind of blade they had just chosen to sharpen.

  ?? — ? — ??

  Xiao Lei lay upon a bed softer than any he had touched in years. The mattress yielded beneath him like pressed clouds, and a faint fragrance of sandalwood drifted from the carved beams overhead.

  Their quarters had been changed the instant Xinyue gave her command; silken curtains veiled the chamber, and a lacquered chest filled with spirit coins stood against the wall. Luxury, sudden and deliberate.

  Lian’s face had glowed when she saw it. Her hands traced the embroidered blankets as though afraid they might vanish at a touch. For a moment she was only a girl, dazzled by splendour.

  Yet when Xiao Lei’s quiet voice reminded her how easily such gifts could be taken back, the light drained from her eyes. The smile faltered. She did not fear losing silk or coin. She remembered the scene from earlier, remembered the faces that might have ended her brother’s life because of her.

  The curtains whispered faintly in the draft before she spoke. Her voice, steady though too soft, carried resolve. “Brother… I need some herbs.”

  The request startled him. His brow lifted, suspicion flickering. “What do you need herbs for?”

  She did not hesitate. “To make pills, I will need to wait until I reach Qi Awakening. Until then, I will study poison.”

  Her words hung in the air like a shadowed oath. Poison—subtle, merciless, requiring patience more than strength. Xiao Lei stilled, then slowly inclined his head. He understood. Poisons required no qi—only knowledge, precision, and a will that never flinched. A harsher art than alchemy, its edge cut clean and merciless.

  His chest eased with quiet relief. At least she was no longer content to stay helpless. If she pursued poison, she could defend herself. She might even become a weapon to aid him. A piece to place, not yet strong, but one that might grow into something rare—an alchemist who wielded venom as shield and blade both.

  When at last she drifted into sleep, her breathing soft against the night air, Xiao Lei remained seated in silence. He did not close his eyes to cultivate. His body was weary, but it was his mind that carried the greater weight. The mask he wore before Xinyue and Uncle Li had drained him more than battle ever could. To feign fear, to bow his head without letting the other part suspect—it demanded every shred of control.

  Yet the act had succeeded. He had let them believe he was caught, that his loyalty had been shackled. They would think him theirs now.

  Still, an unanswered question gnawed at him. Why bother with a nobody like him? Why recruit a pawn from the gutter? He did not know the divination Uncle Li had performed, nor how fate had quietly drawn their interest to him. Had he known, Xiao Lei might have laughed aloud, perhaps even whispered thanks to the heavens.

  But ignorance sharpened his caution. In their eyes, he was only a pawn. But a pawn that endured long enough to cross the board could become a minister.

  And when the time came, it would be his hand that overturned the board.

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  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.