Chapter 3 – An Unwelcome Escort
The words hung in the air like a shadow over a feast.
Mei Lian crossed her arms, glaring at the Minister of War. "And what exactly does that have to do with us? We came here to take an exam, not to play soldiers in your court games."
Liang Zhen's gaze shifted to her, sharp but not unkind. "You misunderstand, young lady. This is not a matter of politics alone. If the Shadow Pavilion was present, and if they had reason to target someone within the examination hall, then you—by mere proximity—may already be within their sight."
Mei Lian's expression didn't soften. "Then they can keep looking. I'm not afraid of shadows."
Yin Xue, ever composed, gave her a small glance. "Bravery is admirable, Mei Lian, but recklessness is costly."
Shen Rui stepped forward, resting a hand lightly on his sister's shoulder. "Minister, if these assassins are as dangerous as you say, then why bring us here instead of sending us away?"
Liang Zhen looked directly at his son. "Because you were seen, Wen. And because… I suspect this is not the first time."
The tension in the hall deepened. Wen's expression remained calm, but a slight tightening at the corner of his eyes betrayed his thoughts. "You believe I've been watched before?"
"I know it," Liang Zhen replied. "I've kept my distance so you could live your life as you chose, but the Pavilion has long memories, and you carry your mother's bloodline."
Wen's jaw tensed. The others exchanged glances but didn't press.
The Minister's attention shifted to the soldier who had fetched them. "Escort them to the guest wing. No one enters without my leave."
The man bowed and led them through a side corridor. The compound was vast, its courtyards lit with paper lanterns that swayed gently in the evening breeze. The scent of pine and sandalwood lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trickle of water from hidden fountains.
The guest wing was a cluster of connected rooms, each with a low bed, a writing desk, and latticed windows overlooking a small garden.
Mei Lian looked around and sniffed. "Comfortable enough. I half expected chains."
"Give it time," Shen Rui joked, flopping onto one of the beds.
Wen ignored them and set the black silk scrap on the desk, studying the stitched character again. "This isn't just a warning," he murmured. "It's a message. Someone wanted me to see it."
Yin Xue came to stand beside him. "Why you?"
He didn't answer immediately. "Because of my father's position, perhaps. Or because of my mother's family. Either way, the fact it appeared today means they want me unsettled before the next exam session."
Mei Lian frowned, arms folded. "So what now? Are we prisoners until the Minister decides to let us go?"
Wen's lips curved faintly. "Not prisoners. Guests. Which means we can leave… if we're clever enough."
That night, after the lamps were dimmed, the four gathered quietly in the small courtyard outside their rooms. The moonlight spilled across the flagstones, pale and cold.
Shen Rui leaned back against a pillar. "Alright, Wen, you've clearly been holding back. What's the real story here?"
Wen glanced at him, then at the women. "My mother's family came from the western provinces — the same provinces that border the lands of the steppe tribes. They were traders, but also… guardians of certain things the court preferred to keep quiet. When she died, the ties to her family were severed, but not all debts were forgotten."
"The border song," Yin Xue said softly. "You knew it."
Wen nodded. "It's a song of warning. My mother taught it to me when I was young, but only once. I didn't realize its meaning until I heard it again today."
Mei Lian tapped her foot impatiently. "Fine. So your family has some mysterious history, assassins are watching you, and now the Minister wants to keep us locked up. That still doesn't explain why all of us heard the same song growing up."
Shen Rui's grin faded. "She's right. My grandfather used to hum it after drinking too much wine. Said it was from the time before the empire expanded west. He'd never say more."
Yin Xue lowered her gaze. "My mother sang it when she thought I was asleep. I asked her once, and she told me it was for 'the day the rivers run red.' I thought it was a lullaby."
A long silence followed. The distant sound of boots on stone reminded them they were being watched.
Suddenly, a shadow passed over the moonlight. Mei Lian's eyes narrowed. "Did you see that?"
Before anyone could answer, a small object dropped into the courtyard from above — a folded piece of parchment, weighted with a smooth river stone.
Wen picked it up and unfolded it. The handwriting was small but precise:
Leave before dawn. Follow the peach blossoms.
No name. No seal. Only the faint scent of sandalwood clinging to the paper.
Shen Rui tilted his head. "Friend or foe?"
"Both," Wen said quietly. "Or neither. But either way… it means they're inside the compound."