Chapter 13 – The Serpent's Smile
The sun had barely set when Shen Yifan returned to her courtyard. The air carried the faint perfume of osmanthus and rain, yet something in the wind made her pause. The door to her room was slightly ajar — a small, careless detail, one that her assassin instincts immediately caught.
Her fingers brushed the hilt of her hidden dagger. Quiet steps. Steady breath.
Inside, the candles burned low, shadows licking across the walls. Her gaze swept the room — and then froze.
Two snakes lay coiled upon her bed, their scales glistening like oil under the candlelight. They shifted, restless, as if waiting for her scream.
Shen Yifan's lips curved into something between amusement and disdain.
> "Snakes?" she murmured. "How predictable."
With one swift motion, she reached out, catching one snake firmly by its head. It writhed, hissing in protest, its tail lashing, but her grip never trembled. Her expression remained calm — almost bored — as though holding a deadly serpent was as ordinary as lifting a teacup.
The door swung open again — this time under her control.
---
Moments later, the Shen family hall fell into chaos.
Shen Yifan stepped in, her long hair unbound from the wind, her white robes trailing behind her like mist.
In her right hand, she held the snake, its body coiling and twisting, alive and furious.
Her sisters screamed, stumbling back.
"Ah! Snake! A snake—!" Shen Rou shrieked, clutching her skirts, pretending to tremble.
The father blinked, startled. "Yifan, what is the meaning of this?"
Shen Yifan's eyes swept over them, cool and unreadable.
> "Someone thought it amusing to leave this in my bed," she said quietly. "I don't find it funny."
She knelt, set the snake gently into a basket by the door, and straightened. The flicker of her gaze toward Shen Rou was enough to make the girl stiffen, though Yifan never spoke her name.
> "Clean up the mess," she continued, voice cold and soft as silk. "I don't like filth where I sleep."
The room fell silent. Even the servants froze, uncertain whether she meant the snake — or the ones who planted it.
Shen Rou forced a laugh, voice trembling. "S-sister, what do you mean? I—I didn't—"
Shen Yifan ignored her. "By the time I return, I expect my room spotless," she said, turning toward the door.
Then, with the faintest ghost of a smile, she added,
> "Next time, try something with sharper fangs."
And she was gone, leaving behind whispers, pale faces, and a room heavy with shame.
---
Outside, the night air felt cleaner. The moon hung low, pale and distant. Shen Yifan walked through the garden path, her expression unreadable, her mind a quiet storm.
She hadn't missed the tremor in Shen Rou's eyes — or the faint trail of cheap perfume lingering near her bed. So, this is how they want to play.
Her steps led her toward the greenhouse, where rare flowers slept beneath glass and moonlight. She paused by a row of orchids, inhaling their faint scent, letting her thoughts scatter like petals in the breeze.
That's when she felt it — a presence, light yet deliberate.
Turning slightly, she saw a lady standing among the vines. Draped in dark robes, her hair pinned with silver, the woman's eyes gleamed like hidden stars. She smiled — a slow, knowing curve.
> "You didn't scream," the lady said softly. "Good. The ones who fear snakes rarely survive the shadows."
Shen Yifan's brows drew together. "Who are you?"
The lady stepped closer, fingertips brushing a pinwheel that hung near the glass. It spun once, then stilled.
> "Names don't matter. But remember this, child — snakes crawl on the ground… demons walk in daylight."
Before Yifan could answer, the woman turned, her figure fading into the darkness between the flowers.
Only her scent — faint, like old smoke and plum blossoms — lingered.
Yifan stood alone, the night wind curling around her.
Her eyes narrowed. Demons? Shadows?
Her hand drifted to her chest — where her heartbeat echoed strangely, as if something beneath her skin remembered that word.
> "What game is this world playing with me…" she whispered.