The Bai Family estate breathed in silence.
From the outside, it appeared almost abandoned — a withering old temple forgotten by the bustling city around it. Its white-washed walls, cracked with age, hid the truth. Beneath the surface, beneath layers of deception and sigil-cloaked barriers, the heart of the Bai Family pulsed like a hidden ember.
Inside, a sanctum bloomed.
White lotus motifs adorned the blue-flamed braziers, casting ghostly lights over polished stone floors. Incense curled in slow tendrils, heavy with scents meant to sharpen the mind and cloud the senses all at once.
At the center of the inner chamber, Ba Xueqin sat.
The head of the Bai Family, robed in flowing silk the color of mist, exuded a serenity that could make even the strongest adversary doubt themselves. Her long silver hair cascaded like a waterfall over her shoulders, and her eyes — half-lidded, sharp beneath the stillness — missed nothing.
Before her, a circle of trusted advisors knelt in disciplined rows.
"The Summit failed," murmured a healer in green robes. "The Liang Family remains intact. Stronger, perhaps, than before."
Ba Xueqin tilted her head slightly, as if listening to a melody only she could hear.
"And yet," she said, voice soft but carrying to every corner of the room, "the Fourth Bloodline stirs. That alone shifts the balance."
A flick of her fingers brought a series of images to life in the air — projections crafted from spiritual energy. Liang Yue's face hovered above the flame, youthful but marked by the first shadow of power.
There was a hush of respect. And fear.
One of the younger advisors spoke, hesitant.
"Should we strengthen the alliance with the Lei?"
Ba Xueqin's gaze cooled.
"The Lei are fire without discipline," she said. "They would burn the house down to catch a single mouse."
She rose — slow, deliberate — and walked through the air projections. Liang Yue's face flickered as Xueqin passed through it, like a ghost brushing through another ghost.
"This child is not yet a force," she said. "But she is becoming one. Our concern is not the threat she poses today, but the future she promises."
There was a murmur of agreement, though unease clung to it.
Ba Xueqin paused before a small, closed box resting atop a lotus pedestal. With a single whispered sigil, she unlocked it. Inside: a folded letter, brittle with age, sealed with an unfamiliar crest.
She touched it briefly, almost tenderly.
An old connection.
A wound never confessed aloud.
Liang Yue's mother — so many years ago, had once stood in this very hall. Not as an enemy. Not even as an outsider. But as something closer. As someone once counted among them.
So much wasted... because of choices neither of them could undo.
Her voice turned sharper.
"The Liang Family must not fall — not yet. Nor must the girl be lost to fear. If she collapses, the vacuum she leaves will tear us all apart."
A ripple of surprise crossed a few faces. Some had expected a call for aggression. But Ba Xueqin had always moved differently.
"Prepare Bai Lian," she said. "Send her quietly. Observe the Fourth Bloodline's growth. Intervene... only if necessary."
A young girl who is of same age as liang yue— Bai Lian.
Bai Lian, the daughter of the Bai Family and, to Yue's quiet surprise, her age, stood before her mother. Her silver hair gleamed faintly under the muted sun, and her eyes, sharp and calm.
"You will not make yourself known unless circumstances demand it," Xueqin instructed. "Trust is a rarer currency than gold among the Liangs. If you are caught, you will not be saved."
Bai Lian bowed low, without fear or hesitation.
"As you command."
Ba Xueqin studied her a moment longer.
Another piece on the board. Another game begun.
She turned back to her advisors.
"The Wu stir. The Lei gather their fire. The Bai... will become mist. Invisible. Indispensable."
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper.
"And when the tide turns, we will choose the shore on which we stand."
The meeting dissolved in ripples of silk and soft footsteps.
Ba Xueqin remained alone in the chamber, the flickering lotus flames casting long, shifting shadows around her. She picked up the ancient letter again, tracing its broken seal with her fingertips.
A smile — almost human, almost sorrowful — touched her lips.
"So, Meilin..." she murmured, using a name no one else dared speak aloud anymore.
"Your daughter carries your fire — but not your chains. Let us see if she can do what we could not."
Outside the estate, the city pulsed oblivious to the silent storm gathering strength.
The Bai Family, unseen but ever-present, slipped into the coming war like smoke through a broken window.
And Liang Yue, still unaware of the threads tightening around her destiny, would soon have to face enemies more insidious than swords or poison:
The enemies of doubt, betrayal, and illusions spun from her own mind.