The courtyard was unusually quiet that morning. Even the birds seemed to sense the stillness, as if the estate held its breath.
Shen Lian entered the room where Zhou now stayed. He was seated by the window, the scroll with his new name resting beside him. He didn't stand, but his eyes lifted the moment she stepped in.
"I memorized it," he said, voice hoarse but steady.
"Good." Shen Lian walked past him and opened a small chest. Inside were several folded garments and a set of ink-stained practice scrolls.
"You'll learn to read," she said. "Write. Memorize the rules of court conduct and geography. Speak without stuttering. Fight, if you can stand."
Zhou narrowed his eyes. "Why?"
"Because a blade must be sharp," she replied. "And because I don't keep useless things."
He didn't reply, but she saw his jaw tighten.
She placed the scroll in front of him. "This is the ceremonial etiquette for inner court servants. Start here."
He stared at it. "You want me to pretend to be a servant?"
Shen Lian met his gaze. "Only until you're useful enough not to be overlooked."
There was silence.
Then Zhou spoke, quieter this time. "I remember your voice. From the snow."
Her hand paused over the tray. "Do you?"
"It was cold, but you sounded… warm. I thought I was dying."
"You were," she said. "I brought you back."
Zhou looked down at his hands. "Then I'll repay you."
She turned to him fully. "Don't repay me. Obey me."
Zhou lifted his head.
And nodded.
Shen Lian's lips curved.
Now the boy had a name.
Next, he would have purpose.