As Lin Feng squatted in the eastern archive, the black jade gate loomed like a silent judge, his heart thumped. Its dragon carvings were barely illuminated by the moon, their pearl eyes glimmering with a subtle, unsettling gleam. He was on edge from last night's encounter with the stranger who smelled of jasmine; her warning, like Su Mei's and Elder Mo's, suggested dangers that went beyond the court's derision. Warm and insistent, the Jade Pendant at his chest pulsed, seemingly pushing him in the direction of the gate. Though his engineer's mind was full of ideas, he lacked the Qi to break its wards. It might be unlocked by a secret mechanism, such as a pressure plate or a rune sequence. The drought in the western provinces and the prying eyes of the palace would not wait, so he needed answers quickly.
He picked up scrolls from ancient artificers as he browsed the archive's shelves. Half-crumbled, one spoke of a "Star Key," a tool that aligned Qi to open gates that were sealed. As he read, the runes on the pendant glowed dimly as the heat flared. He wondered if this was the key, but the last few pages of the scroll were missing, and the script became cryptic. Anger tore at him. Time was a luxury he lacked, but he needed more of it. Three days remained until the court's next meeting, and Prince Zhao would be prepared with new—or worse—teasing.
The archive echoed with a sharp clang. Lin Feng doused his lamp and froze. Footsteps came from the outer hall, too fast for Elder Mo, too heavy for the stranger. With his sketch of a Qi-powered waterwheel in hand, he slipped behind a shelf.
A chilly, familiar chuckle filled the air as the footsteps ceased. "Are you still pretending to be a scholar in the dark, Fifth Brother?" Prince Zhao entered with two iron-armored guards at his side, his golden robes gleaming in the moonlight, his voice brimming with contempt? Their auras, mid-Qi condensation, pressed like a storm against the room as their swords gleamed.
Lin Feng felt a knot in her stomach. This was a trap; Zhao wasn't here by accident. "Third Brother," he said as he came into view, his heart pounding but his voice steady. Why do you find yourself in a forgotten corner? Have you lost your way to the throne?
Zhao's eyes glinted with malice as his smirk grew. "Have courage for a cripple. There have been rumors of a rat in the archive stealing secrets that he isn't qualified to touch. Father will be pleased to know his useless son is breaking palace law."
Lin Feng's thoughts were racing. Being exposed carried consequences, such as exile or, worse, a public beating. But he was enraged by Zhao's arrogant expression. I refuse to submit to this snake. He held up his sketch and asked, "Secrets?" These plans aim to prevent drought in the western region. Third Brother, you're too busy stroking your ego to know anything about this.
The guards stiffened, but Zhao's scathing laugh was cruel. "Plans? Scribbles from an idiot who is incapable of detecting qi. Let's see what Father thinks of your trespass. He pointed at the guards. "Grab him."
The first guard lunged, slicing the air with his sword, and Lin Feng ducked. Although he wasn't a farmer, his reflexes were sharpened by years of avoiding bullies on the court. Scrolls fell to the ground as he rolled behind a shelf.
The second guard lunged forward, brushing Lin Feng's sleeve with his blade. He scrambled toward the black jade gate, gritting his teeth despite the flare of pain. With its glow now visible, the pendant cast a faint green light as it burned against his chest. He thought, "Not now," but the runes on the gate flickered as though they were responding.
"Avoid him!" Zhao's aura surged as he snapped. Swords were raised, the guards closed in. Desperate for a miracle, Lin Feng's hand touched the dragon carvings on the gate. A low hum filled the air as the pendant pulsed. A gust of wind knocked the guards back, and the gate trembled, its runes flaring. Zhao staggered, his expression contorted in surprise. "Disabled, what trick is this?"
Even though Lin Feng was unaware, he took advantage of the situation. "Trick? Perhaps the sky is telling you to back off. He ran past the stunned guards and headed for the exit of the archive. Zhao's roar came next, but he was overpowered by the gate's increasing hum. The morning mist shrouded Lin Feng as he slipped into the chrysanthemum gardens and ducked into the outer hall.
He gasped for air, and his grazed arm was leaking blood. Only the warmth of the pendant remained as its glow dimmed. His heart thumped, he wondered what that was. The gate had responded, but it hadn't opened. If he lived through Zhao's fury, he would discover the connection between the pendant and the Star Key.
He hid in the shadows of the garden while the palace awoke all around him. Li Xiyue, the merchant's daughter from the Cloudveil Trading House, came up, her silks rustling. Her eyes, as keen as a hawk's, were fixed on him as her jade hairpins shone. "Difficulty following you, Fifth Prince," she said in a low, amused, and calculated voice. "Are you already escaping the guards?"
Uncertain whether she was a friend or an enemy, Lin Feng stiffened. He forced a smile and said, "Just a morning stroll." "Want to come along?" Although Li Xiyue's lips curled, her eyes shifted to the archive. Blood on your sleeves is not a sign of a stalker. Prince, you're playing a risky game. However, I might enjoy danger. Her jasmine scent, familiar but not the stranger's, brushed his nostrils as she moved closer. Water is needed in the west. There my family is a trader. You might find an ally if you assist them.
She turned and disappeared into the mist before he could reply. Lin Feng's thoughts were racing. Although Li Xiyue's offer was a lifeline, it was unclear why she made it. Risk was drawing near, but so was opportunity—the pendant, the archive, Zhao's trap. With a glimmer of hope, he gripped his sketch of the waterwheel. As the palace bells rang, he slipped back to his courtyard and vowed, "I'll beat them at their own game."
Prince Zhao appeared in the distance, his face dark with rage, coming out of the archives. He would have reported the trespass, but he was shaken by Lin Feng's escape. Another, Su Mei, watched in the shadows, her cold eyes narrowing, her sword glinting. The Fifth Prince was no longer a cripple.