The summons was a stone dropped into the quiet, stagnant pond of his new life. Yang Kai's heart hammered against his ribs as he walked the dark, silent paths of the Yang Clan estate. The moon, a cold silver disc in the inky sky, offered little comfort. Every rustle of bamboo in the night wind sounded like an unsheathed blade, every flickering lantern held by a passing servant seemed to cast an accusatory glow upon him.
He was walking to the Third House. To her.
Why now? The question was a frantic drumbeat in his mind. He had been so careful. Four days of a silent, disciplined routine. Four days of practicing his new, brutal scripture in the shadows, of studying his copied journals behind a barred door. Had he been discovered? Did she know about the Dregs? No… how could she? This had to be about their meeting in the library. A delayed punishment for his audacity, to be delivered now that the eyes of the other matriarchs were off him. His mind, the analytical tool of his past life, churned through possibilities, each more dire than the last. He was a non-cultivator, a cripple in a clan of tigers. A summons from the woman who held the power of life and death over him was not a request; it was a judgment.
He reached the courtyard of the Third House. It was even more silent than the rest of the estate, a place of deep, lingering shadows and profound stillness. The servant who had summoned him waited at the gate, her face a pale mask of anxiety. She bowed low, not daring to meet his eyes, and led him into a small, sparsely furnished receiving hall.
And there she was.
Madam Xue sat alone at a low table, a single, unlit candle before her. The room was cold, the air holding the faint, clean scent of frost and old paper. She had not touched the tea that had been poured for her; it sat, cold and forgotten, in a delicate porcelain cup. She watched the doorway, her grey eyes holding no discernible emotion. They were like the surface of a frozen lake, hiding unfathomable depths.
It was a gamble. A calculated risk based on a single conversation and a hunch. She had planted a seed of an idea in the boy's mind in the library, a hint about her brother's locked-away research. She had seen the desperation in his eyes that day. Had it been enough to make him act?
Her brother's legacy was rotting in that study, in the hands of the very man whose ambition had led to his death. The thought was a shard of ice in her heart. She could not retrieve it herself, but perhaps… Perhaps this desperate, cornered creature could. If he had the nerve.
The boy, Yang Kai, appeared in the doorway. He was thin, his robes hanging loosely on his frame, but he held himself with a new stillness. His eyes, when they briefly met hers, were not just filled with fear, but with a sharp, guarded intelligence. He was a cornered animal, but an animal that was thinking.
Tonight, she would find out if the mouse had dared to enter the dragon's den.
Yang Kai stood before her, his head bowed, his every muscle screaming at him to flee. He waited for the verdict.
"You have been quiet these past few days, nephew," she began, her voice a flat, emotionless whisper that cut through the silence. "Since our talk in the library."
His blood ran cold. He said nothing.
"I imagine," she continued, her gaze unwavering, "that your thoughts have been… occupied." She paused, letting the silence stretch, letting him drown in it. "Tell me, did you find what you were looking for?"
He risked a glance up. Her face was a perfect, impassive mask. He could not read her. "I… I do not understand, Third Aunt," he stammered, his voice barely a whisper.
A flicker of something—disappointment? impatience?—crossed her features. "Do not play the fool with me, boy. It is unbecoming." Her voice turned to ice. " I can tell from your reaction that you went. The question is not if you went, but what you had the nerve to take. The early survey maps? The preliminary journals from the chest?"
She was guessing, but her guesses were sharp, calculated daggers aimed at the truth. He flinched. A tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but in the crushing silence of the room, it was a thunderclap. His eyes widened slightly. It was all the answer she needed.
A cold, dismissive look settled on her face. "I see. So you had the nerve to go, but only enough to steal an apprentice's notes. The final calculations, the true legacy… you left it behind. You were a child stealing candy, leaving the vault of gold untouched."
She slid a small, folded piece of rice paper across the table. Her movements were elegant, precise. "The Patriarch and your First Aunt are not at the estate. They are dining with the Tie Clan."
He stared at the piece of paper, his heart pounding a frantic, terrifying rhythm against his ribs.
"My brother's true legacy is still in that room," she said, her grey eyes fixed on his face. Her words were a map, a key, an invitation to commit a second, even greater crime. She was not punishing him. She was sending him back.
"I am giving you a chance to correct your sloppy work, nephew," she whispered. "Do not fail a second time."
She rose from the table, a slender, graceful specter of sorrow and ice. She did not need to say more. He was ensnared. He had a secret she now shared, a crime she was now complicit in.
He was left alone with the cold tea, the unlit candle, and the piece of paper that felt as heavy as a mountain in his hand.
He slipped back to his own courtyard, his mind a maelstrom. He unrolled the paper. It was a hand-drawn map of the East Wing, every corridor and guard post marked with chilling precision. A small annotation detailed a sequence to bypass the chest's lock.
He had to go. He needed those final calculations. For a man caught in a spider's web, there was no choice but to follow the thread.
He waited for the midnight bell. He moved through the shadows of the estate, his feet silent. He reached the East Wing. As she had predicted, the north corridor was empty. He found the third door and slipped inside.
The study was a world of power. The air smelled of expensive ink and sandalwood. He went straight to the iron-banded chest in the corner. He did not need to break it this time. The hinges he had torn were still loose. He lifted the heavy lid from the back and reached inside, his hands searching in the dark. He found a hidden compartment at the bottom, just as her map had indicated. Inside were two thick journals and a single, detailed map.
He had just secured them in his robes when he heard them.
Footsteps. And his mother's sharp, impatient voice from the corridor.
Panic seized him. There was nowhere to hide. His eyes darted around and landed on the only possible place: the deep, dark space underneath the Patriarch's massive desk. He dove for it, scrambling into the shadows just as the study door creaked open.
A soft, warm light spilled into the room. It was his mother, Madam Liu, and his father, Yang Zhan.
"I still say this is a mistake," his father grumbled.
"And I say he is a fool for leaving it unguarded," his mother hissed back. "The Patriarch keeps the Clan Seal in here. With it, we can authorize a withdrawal from the emergency treasury. Enough to buy some proper resources for your cultivation. Enough to ensure that I do not have to beg my sister-in-law for every single Mortal Grade herb."
She began to search the desk, her crimson silk robes whispering against the floor. He could see the intricate embroidery on her hem, and could smell her perfume. He held his breath.
She tugged on a locked drawer, then her eyes fell upon the iron-banded chest. "There," she whispered. "It must be in there." She strode to it. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the damaged hinges. "What is this?" Her voice was sharp with suspicion. She ran a finger over the broken wood. "Someone has been here."
Yang Kai's blood ran cold.
She looked around the room, her gaze sweeping over the desk… and lingering for a heart-stopping moment in the dark space where he was hiding. He felt as if her amber eyes were staring straight into his soul.
She turned away. "Fine," she snapped, her frustration overriding her suspicion for now. "We will leave. For now. But I will be speaking to the guard captain about this."
She snatched the lantern and swept from the room, his father trailing nervously behind her. The door closed, plunging him back into darkness.
He didn't move for a long time, his body trembling. He had just become the sole witness to his parents' treasonous ambitions. He had the secrets of Madam Xue's dead brother, and now he had the secrets of his own mother and father. The knowledge was a terrifying, crushing weight. He was a ghost in a house of secrets, and he was beginning to realize that every single one of them could get him killed.
He scrambled from under the desk, slipped from the room, and fled back into the night.
[Cycle of the Azure Emperor, Year 3473, 5th Moon, 24th Day]