The next morning, the estate felt too quiet.
Not the peace of harmony—but the silence of a drawn blade.
Li Yun rose early and dressed plainly, choosing to walk the outer gardens alone. Every stone, every tree seemed familiar, yet somehow… shifted.
Or maybe it was him who had changed.
His steps led him to the east courtyard, where the lesser officials of the clan met for morning reports. And there, sipping tea beneath the magnolia tree, was Li Chen.
Yun didn't turn away.
He walked straight up to the man who had worn his father's bloodline like a cloak—and perhaps knew more about his mother's death than anyone else dared admit.
Li Chen looked up, pleasantly surprised. "Yun'er. You're up early."
Yun returned a small nod. "The mountains make you forget how soft the manor's air is."
Li Chen chuckled, motioning to the seat across from him. "Come. Join me. You've returned stronger, I hear. The servants are already whispering."
Yun sat, his face unreadable.
"You listen to servants?" he asked lightly.
Li Chen raised a brow. "Everyone in this house listens. Some are just better at pretending they don't."
Yun smiled thinly. "And what have they said about me?"
"That you've changed." Li Chen sipped his tea. "That you move like your father did… when he first returned from the battlefield."
"Is that a compliment?"
"A warning."
The moment stretched.
Li Chen set down his cup. "Tell me, Yun. Where did you really go? The Tian Range hasn't housed cultivators since your grandfather's time."
Yun didn't blink. "You sound disappointed. Were you hoping I wouldn't come back?"
Li Chen's smile thinned. "No, no. I just hope you came back… whole."
Later, Yun walked the inner hall, thoughts turning.
His uncle suspected something.
Not just that he'd trained.
But that he'd found something.
He needed to tread carefully.
Too much, too fast—and the old wolves would strike.
Too little, too slow—and the truth behind his mother's death would slip away again.
Back in the west wing, Lady Shen sat before a stack of correspondence, yet had barely read a word.
Her hands still trembled from the night before.
Yun had returned changed.
Not just stronger.
But marked.
By something she feared—and had once helped hide.
He hadn't told her what the sigil showed him.
But she knew one day… he would.
And when that day came, she didn't know if he'd thank her—or hate her.
A knock at her door snapped her from thought.
She expected a maid.
But it was Madam Liu, Li Chen's sister-in-law and the clan's self-proclaimed keeper of propriety.
"Forgive the intrusion," the older woman said with an overly sweet smile, "but I heard Yun has returned."
Lady Shen stood, composed. "He has."
"And from where, I wonder?" Madam Liu's voice was light, but her eyes were sharp. "You always seemed so close to him. Did he confide in you?"
Lady Shen's fingers curled beneath her sleeves.
"No more than he wished to," she replied smoothly.
"Mm." Madam Liu's gaze lingered. "He's grown into quite the young man. Such presence… some might find it distracting."
Lady Shen's heart stilled.
But she offered a smile. "Only to those with little else to occupy their minds."
That evening, Yun found himself drawn once again to the lotus garden.
It had become a place of clarity.
Of memory.
And now… of strategy.
He knelt by the water's edge, eyes fixed on the still surface.
Then, from the shadows behind, a voice:
"You shouldn't be alone. Not here."
He turned.
Lady Shen stood beneath the arching tree, moonlight silvering her robes.
"Why?" he asked.
She stepped closer. "Because they're watching you, Yun."
"I know."
She knelt beside him, her shoulder nearly touching his.
The tension crackled like dry silk.
"Li Chen asked where I went," he said.
She went still. "What did you tell him?"
"The truth. That I went to the Temple of Hollow Sky."
Her breath caught.
"You shouldn't—"
"He already suspects. Better he doubts than believes the wrong lie."
They sat in silence.
Then Yun turned, his voice low. "Did you know about the sigil?"
Lady Shen looked away. "I… suspected. Your mother feared someone in the clan would try to awaken it before you were ready. That's why she sealed it."
Yun's eyes narrowed. "And my exile?"
"I arranged that." Her voice barely a whisper. "To protect you. From them. From yourself."
He stared at her.
Anger. Gratitude. Confusion. Longing.
All of it churned beneath his skin.
"You left me alone," he said quietly.
"I watched over you every year."
"Not enough."
"I know."
She rose.
So did he.
And for a moment, they stood far too close.
"You're not that boy anymore," she whispered.
"No," he said. "I'm not."
She turned to go.
But he caught her wrist.
Just for a moment.
Then let go.
"I won't ask you to choose," he said.
"But when the fire comes… don't try to stop me."
She didn't answer.
Only walked away.
The scent of her lingered in the air.
And Yun remained beneath the tree, heart burning.