Lin Feng's courtyard was a wreckage of splintered wood and scorched jade, the Qi-powered waterwheel model barely held together under a flickering lantern. The Tianyu Palace loomed, its dawn assembly hours away, where he'd face Emperor Tianlong's judgment--prove his waterwheel could save the western provinces or be banished. The Jade Pendant burned against his chest, its runes pulsing brighter since its voice whispered, "Star Key alignment: 85%," after his blood sparked it at the archive's gate. Elder Mo's warning about his mother's sacrifice and Sect Master Yun's relentless thugs—Prince Zhao's allies—tightened the noose. Li Xiyue's latest Qi crystal, glowing in the rebuilt model, was his last hope, but her jasmine-scented motives felt like a trap.
Lin Feng slotted the crystal into the model, his engineer's mind racing. The array channeled Qi to spin gears, pulling water from spiritual springs. Last night's test had spun for five seconds, the pendant guiding his hands with faint blueprints—energy flows, gear alignments. He nicked his finger, blood dripping onto the pendant. Its runes flared, and the model whirred, gears turning smoothly, water sloshing in a test bucket for ten seconds before the crystal sparked and dimmed. "Almost there," Lin Feng said, grinning despite his aching wounds. His crippled meridians blocked the final step, but the pendant's voice was clearer now. Will and blood, his mother's note said. He was close.
A sharp knock broke his focus. A palace guard stood at the gate, his face grim. "Fifth Prince, you're summoned now. Treason charges." Lin Feng's heart sank. Treason? Zhao's rigged petition had escalated into a death sentence. He grabbed the model, sketches, and Star Key scroll, tucking the pendant under his robe. The guard's eyes flickered to the wreckage, suspicious. "MOVE ME," HE BROKED.
The Hall of Celestial Harmony was a storm of whispers, nobles' gazes cutting like knives. Emperor Tianlong sat on the Jade Throne. His Qi aura crushed the air. Prince Zhao stood smug, a scroll in his hand, flanked by a sect elder in crimson-claw robes—Sect Master Yun's envoy. Su Mei lingered at the hall's edge, her white robes stark, her eyes sharp with worry. Li Xiyue stood among the merchants, her jade hairpin glinting, her face a mask. Elder Mo leaned against a pillar, his scarred face unreadable.
"Fifth Prince," the Emperor said, voice like iron, "you're accused of stealing forbidden scrolls and plotting against the throne. Evidence was found in your courtyard—sect markings, forged orders. Explain."
Lin Feng's blood ran cold. Forged evidence? Zhao's spies had planted it during the sabotage. "Father," he said, kneeling, "I seek to save the west, not betray it." My waterwheel uses Qi springs to end the drought. These charges are a lie—Zhao's trap to silence me."
Zhao laughed, venomously. "A cripple's excuse! The scrolls you stole hold state secrets. The archive's gate shook under your dark arts. Guards found sect runes in your courtyard—proof of treason!"
Nobles gasped, and Lin Feng's hand tightened on his model. The pendant pulsed, its heat urging him on. "No dark arts," he said, rising. "I'll prove it at dawn. My waterwheel works, and I'll show it to the court. Judge me then, not on planting lies."
The sect elder sneered. "BOLD FOR A DEAD MAN. Sect Master Yun demands your pendant as proof of your crimes."
Lin Feng's jaw clenched. "The pendant's mine. Come take it." The elder's aura flared, but the Emperor raised a hand, silencing the hall.
"Dawn," the Emperor said. "Prove your innocence, Lin Feng, or face execution." The word hung like a blade, and the court dispersed, whispers trailing.
Lin Feng slipped into the archive, the pendant's glow guiding him. The black jade gate loomed, its runes pulsing in sync with his. He needed answers now. The lock gave way, and he darted inside, his heart pounding. The Star Key scroll mentioned blood and intent to bind the key. He pressed his bleeding hand into the gate, willing it to open. "Star Key alignment: 90%," the pendant's voice echoed louder, the gate shuddered. Runes blazed, but it held shut.
Footsteps thundered. Two sect thugs burst in, crimson-claw robes flashing, their auras like mid-Qi condensation. "Yun's orders—end him!" The leader growl, his sword raised. Lin Feng dodged, tossing a scroll to distract them. The second thug's blade grazed his arm, blood spraying. He stumbled against the gate, the pendant blazing. A hum shook the air, runes flaring, knocking the thief back.
A white flash cut through. Su Mei's sword slashed, disarming the leader in one strike. She kicked the second into a shelf, scrolls crashing. "You're a fool," she snapped, her aura icy. "Why come here with death chasing you?"
Lin Feng panted, blood dripping. "The gate is my shot. The pendant's waking—it's the Star Key."
Her eyes flickered to the glowing runes, softening. "You're insane. Yun's elder is in the palace. "Win tomorrow, or you're dead." She paused, her voice low. "I don't save fools twice." She vanished, her words a spark in his chest.
Lin Feng smeared more blood on the pendant, its glow blinding. "Intent aligned," the voice whispered, fading. The gate's hum grew, but it didn't open. He grabbed a new scroll, finding an artificer's note: "Blood binds the key, but will open the path." His mother's sacrifice flashed—had she bled for this?
Li Xiyue appeared at the entrance, her silks dark, a small jade box in her hand. "You're bleeding again, prince," she said, tossing it. "One last crystal. My gold's on you, but Zhao's spies are everywhere." Her jasmine scent sharpened his suspicion, but her eyes held a flicker—hope, or a trap?
"Thanks," Lin Feng said, his voice hard. "No more sabotage."
Her laugh was sharp. "No promises in this game." She left a riddle unsolved.
Dawn looms, the court is waiting. Zhao's frame-up, Yun's thugs, the gate's lock—Lin Feng gripped the crystal and pendant, his mother's words his fire. He'd face the throne and burn through their lies.