NeverEndingStories

Yuanzhi tilted the final mouthful of tea back slowly, eyes lowered toward the dark surface of the porcelain cup as the bitter taste settled across his tongue. The tea had long since cooled, though he barely seemed to notice.

Most of the servants had already withdrawn from the hall by now, leaving only a pair of attendants stationed quietly near the entrance with lowered eyes.

For a while, Yuanzhi remained seated where Shangjue had left him, still turning over the evening’s conversations within his mind.

Some parts had irritated him more than others.

Miss Liuyun especially.

Even now, recalling the woman’s subtle arrogance was enough to make his expression harden faintly. Every word that left her mouth carried the same polished superiority disguised beneath elegant composure and practiced smiles

Yuanzhi was not certain he could endure another five-minute conversation with the woman without eventually telling her to stop speaking altogether

The others had hardly left much stronger impressions.

Most spoke too carefully, weighing every answer before allowing it past their lips. Girls raised to be agreeable rather than honest, more concerned with appearing proper beneath the elders’ attention than revealing anything genuine about themselves.

Then there was Miss Mei.

At the thought of her, Yuanzhi’s gaze sharpened slightly. The irritating part was that she had seemed entirely harmless while seated among the others earlier that evening. Quiet. Polite. Almost shy at times when spoken to directly.

Knowing what he knew now only left a bitter sort of annoyance settling beneath his thoughts.

Yuanzhi lowered his gaze briefly toward the empty cup resting between his fingers, replaying the evening’s conversations once more in his mind. He searched again for some detail he might have missed earlier. A hesitation. An unnatural answer. A look held a moment too long. Nothing came back clearly enough…But perhaps that was the point.

Wufeng spies were trained precisely so that suspicion never formed easily in the first place. They were not merely assassins carrying blades and poison into enemy territory, but skilled deceivers capable of becoming whatever others expected to see.

If Shangjue had not noticed the discrepancy in Mei’s statements regarding her supposed hometown earlier that evening, Yuanzhi doubted he would have looked twice at her at all.

His brother had spent years traveling beyond the Gong residence, moving between regions and provinces where details like dialects, customs, and local geography mattered far more than most people realized.

Yuanzhi, meanwhile, had spent much of those same years within the residence walls. Learning different things entirely.

There had once been little reason to question it. The Gong family required different strengths from each of them, and Yuanzhi had never lacked confidence in his own abilities.

He had traveled beyond the valley before, though never for very long and rarely far enough that the Gong residence itself did not still feel within reach. Most journeys had been tied to duty, escort missions, investigations, or assignments that demanded his return almost immediately afterward.

Maybe, once the constant threat of Wufeng finally eased, he might leave for longer than a few passing days. Travel beyond the same familiar roads and provinces he already knew by memory. The thought lingered only briefly before another followed, quieter and far less guarded.

Perhaps having someone beside him during such journeys would not be entirely unwelcome…

Yuanzhi stilled for a moment before lightly shaking the thought aside. He finally pushed himself up from the cushion, the dark fabric of his robes settling smoothly back into place around him. Silver embroidery caught faintly beneath the lanternlight as he adjusted the sleeve at his wrist, more out of habit than necessity.

The maids stationed quietly near the entrance straightened almost immediately at the movement.

Without needing instruction, one of the servants stepped forward and slid the carved wooden doors open.

Cold night air swept through the hall the moment the doors parted, carrying with it the sharp scent of pine and damp stone from the mountainside beyond. Yuanzhi stepped outside without pause, the chill settling lightly against his skin after the lingering warmth of the lanternlit gathering behind him.

Night had settled fully across the Gong residence now. Lanterns burned steadily along the sprawling paths carved into the mountainside estate, their golden light stretching across dark wooden railings and stone pathways touched lightly by evening mist. Beyond them, layered rooftops disappeared gradually into shadow beneath the pale glow of the moon.

Several guards remained stationed outside the hall, dark uniforms nearly motionless beneath the shifting lanternlight lining the outer pathways. Their postures straightened the moment Yuanzhi appeared, hands briefly tightening around the weapons resting at their sides before they bowed respectfully.

Yuanzhi barely acknowledged the guards as he stepped down onto the stone pathway, the sound of his boots muted against the dark polished stone beneath the lanternlight.

For a few moments, nothing disturbed the quiet stretching across the mountainside residence beyond the distant rush of river water below the cliffs.

Then hurried footsteps suddenly broke through the quiet.

The sound carried sharply through the outer pathways of the residence, fast and uneven enough that several guards immediately turned their attention toward the lower stone path leading up toward the hall.

A figure appeared only moments later.

One of the outer guards was climbing the incline at a near run, breathing visibly uneven by the time he reached the upper landing. His uniform had fallen slightly out of place from the pace he had forced himself into, though he still managed to straighten immediately upon seeing Yuanzhi standing beneath the lanternlight ahead.

The guard dropped at once into a deep bow, clasped hands raised tightly before him.

“Young Master Yuanzhi.”

Yuanzhi’s gaze settled upon him immediately, expression sharpening slightly at the clear urgency in the man’s condition.

“What happened?”

“One of the brides has fallen into the river,” the guard reported, still struggling slightly to steady his breathing. “The guards retrieved her unconscious and are bringing her back now.”

For the briefest moment, he simply stood there, dark eyes fixed upon the kneeling guard as the information settled sharply into place within his thoughts.

Then his expression hardened.

“Inform the Sword Wielder immediately,” he ordered. “And find my brother. He could not have gone far.”

The guard bowed at once before hurrying back down the stone path without delay.

Yuanzhi turned instead toward the two guards stationed closest to the hall entrance.“Prepare the east infirmary chamber,” he said. “Have braziers lit and send for Physician Xu.”

Both guards straightened immediately before moving at once, one disappearing into the inner residence while the other turned sharply toward the lower pathways leading deeper into the estate.

Nearby maids who had remained quietly beneath the outer walkway lifted their heads at the sudden shift in atmosphere.

“You,” Yuanzhi said, his gaze settling briefly upon two of the servants. “Bring dry robes and blankets. Heated water as well.”

The maid bowed deeply before hurrying quickly into the residence, the other one following after her.

Several tense minutes passed afterward.

The quiet atmosphere that had settled over the residence earlier that night had long since disappeared, replaced now by the low movement of guards and servants carrying orders between the surrounding halls.

Yuanzhi stayed where he was near the edge of the upper stone landing overlooking the lower routes leading back toward the Ladies’ Estate.

The cold night wind moved steadily through the loose strands of dark hair near his face, stirring the sleeves of his robes faintly against the silence surrounding him. Yet despite his stillness, there remained something sharp beneath his composure now, an alertness that had spread quietly through the entire residence since the moment the report arrived.

Shangjue appeared beside him a few moments later.

His dark robes shifted faintly beneath the pale moonlight as he came to a stop beside his younger brother, the colder seriousness settling across his expression making it immediately clear he had already been informed of the situation.

For a brief moment, neither brother spoke as Shangjue came to a stop beside him.

Yuanzhi glanced toward him once, his expression unreadable beneath the pale moonlight spilling across the upper landing. Shangjue returned the look just as briefly, calm and composed as always.

It was not long before another group appeared ascending toward the upper grounds.

Several guards emerged first, their lanterns casting shifting light across the stone steps as they moved quickly through the darkness below. At their center walked Gong Ziyu, a dark outer cloak thrown hastily over lighter night robes, his hair only partially secured compared to his usual formal appearance.

The moment he reached the upper landing, his attention moved immediately toward the guards accompanying him.

“You six,” Ziyu ordered without pause, gesturing toward the lower paths branching away from the main residence. “Go to the Ladies’ Estate and reinforce the guards stationed there. The escort returning here will have left the remaining women with too few men protecting them.”

The guards bowed immediately before turning back down the mountain paths without hesitation.

Only once the orders had been carried out did Ziyu finally step beside Shangjue and Yuanzhi near the edge of the stone landing.

For a few moments, all three men faced the darkness below in silence.

“Do we know who fell?” Ziyu asked quietly at last.

Yuanzhi’s expression did not shift. “No.”

The answer had barely settled between them before distant voices suddenly rose from somewhere farther below. Then came the sound of approaching footsteps and hurried movement carrying upward through the mountain paths.

The answer had barely settled between them before distant voices suddenly rose from somewhere farther below. Then came the sound of hurried movement carrying upward through the mountain paths, disturbing the tense stillness that had settled across the upper grounds.

A small group soon emerged from the darkness below.

Two guards moved ahead quickly up the incline while another followed close behind carrying an unconscious figure within his arms. Water dripped steadily from the soaked fabric clinging heavily to the woman’s body, leaving a dark trail across the stone beneath their feet as they climbed.

Someone had wrapped a dark cloak hastily around her shoulders during the return, though it did little against the cold mountain wind cutting through the upper grounds. The heavy fabric had been pulled high enough to obscure most of her face from view as the guards made their way up the final incline toward the three men waiting above.

The guard carrying her was breathing noticeably heavier now, strained from both the steep climb and the weight held carefully within his arms. As he adjusted his hold near the top of the landing, the edge of the cloak shifted slightly.

Yuanzhi’s gaze fixed upon the unconscious girl almost immediately.

Y/N.

Dark wet hair clung faintly against her cheek, droplets still caught along the strands, while the cold had drained most of the color from her lips beneath her pale skin. The sight of her remaining motionless in the freezing night air made something tighten sharply beneath Yuanzhi’s ribs before he forced it back down almost at once.

“Take her to the infirmary,” Yuanzhi ordered sharply. “Now.”

The guard bowed quickly before continuing past them without hesitation. The remaining two guards dropped immediately to one knee.

His expression remained calm and unreadable as always, though his gaze had sharpened slightly upon the kneeling guards before him.

“What happened?” Shangjue demanded.

The first guard lowered his head further at the question.

“We were escorting the women back toward the Ladies’ Estate, Young Master,” he explained evenly. “The group had nearly arrived by then. The women were walking together ahead of us while we followed farther behind along the path.” He paused briefly before continuing. “The lady was near the back of the group beside another young woman when it happened.”

“It was dark,” the second guard added carefully. “We couldn’t see that clearly from where we were positioned. We only saw Miss Han suddenly stumble toward the side of the hill before falling down into the river below.”

The first guard swallowed. “By the time we reached the water, she was already unconscious.”

A brief silence followed the explanation.

The cold wind moved quietly through the upper grounds, stirring the edges of dark robes beneath the open night sky.

Then Ziyu spoke. “Who was the other young lady?”

The two guards exchanged a brief glance between themselves.

One frowned slightly, visibly trying to recall the scene more clearly. “I believe it was Miss Mei,” he answered after a moment. “Though I cannot say so with complete certainty, Sword Wielder.”

A brief silence followed the name.

Yuanzhi’s gaze lifted immediately toward Shangjue, while beside them Ziyu’s expression sharpened slightly as the implication settled between the three men without needing to be spoken aloud.

Farther within the residence, movement still continued near the infirmary. Maids disappeared quickly through the open doors carrying basins and fresh linens inside while guards remained stationed outside, none daring to enter without instruction. A moment later, Yuanzhi spotted Physician Xu being hurried inside as well, robes shifting quickly as maids moved aside to let him pass.

His expression darkened slightly at the thought.

At first, Yuanzhi had assumed it was nothing more than an unfortunate fall in the dark. But now, knowing Mei had apparently been beside Y/N when it happened, the situation no longer sat right with him.

Had Y/N truly stumbled on her own?

Or had she been pushed down the hillside into the river below?

Beside him, Shangjue watched the shift in his expression for only a moment before speaking calmly.

“Go.”

Yuanzhi glanced toward him.

“I’ll go with Ziyu to the Ladies’ Estate,” Shangjue continued evenly. “We’ll investigate what happened there.”

Ziyu gave a small nod beside him, his earlier calm now replaced by visible seriousness as his gaze shifted briefly toward the dark paths leading back down the mountain.

Yuanzhi lingered only a moment longer before turning toward the infirmary, disappearing deeper into the residence without another word.

Warmth met Yuanzhi the moment he stepped inside the infirmary, carrying with it the sharp scent of crushed herbs and burning charcoal from the braziers glowing throughout the chamber.

Near the center of the chamber, a sheer embroidered screen had been drawn around the bed while soft movement continued behind the pale fabric as the maids worked quickly to change Y/N out of her soaked clothing.

Yuanzhi’s gaze shifted toward the screen only briefly before he looked away almost immediately, expression tightening faintly as he instead approached Physician Xu waiting nearby.

“Thank you for coming so quickly, Physician Xu,” he said.

The older man bowed respectfully at once. “Young Master may call for my assistance at any time.”

Physician Xu lowered his voice slightly afterward, glancing briefly toward the screen behind them.

“I was only able to check the young lady’s pulse briefly before the maids began changing her clothes,” he explained carefully. “But it did not feel entirely regular.”

Yuanzhi’s gaze lowered slightly at the words, his thoughts immediately turning over the implication beneath them.

“She had been exposed to the river cold for too long,” the physician continued. “It was more important to warm her body and remove the wet clothing immediately.”

Yuanzhi gave a short nod in understanding.

For a few moments afterward, neither man spoke while the quiet sounds of movement continued behind the screen.

Then finally, one of the maids spoke softly from the other side.

“It is done.”

Only then did Yuanzhi and Physician Xu step forward toward the bed.

Y/N lay beneath layered blankets near the warmth of the glowing braziers, her dark hair still slightly damp where it spread loosely against the pillow beneath her. Candlelight softened the paleness lingering across her features, though the faint bluish tint that had touched her lips earlier had not entirely disappeared yet.

Without wasting another moment, he reached for her wrist.

Beside him, Physician Xu did the same with her other hand, the older physician’s long white hair slipping slightly forward over his shoulder as he focused carefully upon her pulse once again.

Silence settled throughout the infirmary.

The maids had withdrawn respectfully toward the edges of the chamber now, leaving them space to examine her properly without interruption.

Finally, Physician Xu exhaled quietly.

“It’s still weak,” he murmured. “And irregular.”His pale gaze lifted briefly toward Yuanzhi.“What does Young Master think?”

Yuanzhi remained quiet for a moment longer, fingers still resting lightly against Y/N’s wrist while he studied the uneven rhythm beneath her skin.

“This does not feel like simple exhaustion,” he said at last.

Physician Xu gave a slow nod beside him, clearly in agreement.

Yuanzhi released her wrist carefully afterward, his attention shifting across her face beneath the candlelight. He searched for anything that felt unnatural. Any sign her condition had been caused by something beyond the cold river and the fall.

Yuanzhi rolled her sleeve carefully farther up her forearm, preparing to lower it again when something caught his attention.

His hand stilled immediately.

Near the outer side of her forearm sat a small circular mark against her skin, faintly discolored beneath the candlelight. Too clean to have come from falling down a hillside. Too deliberate.

For a brief moment, Yuanzhi simply stared at it in silence. Whatever lingering doubt had remained in his mind vanished almost instantly.

Physician Xu noticed the shift in Yuanzhi’s expression almost immediately as he noticed the mark as well. He straightened from the bedside at once, already knowing from experience what would follow next. Yuanzhi’s knowledge of poisons far surpassed his own in certain areas, especially when it came to identifying compounds designed to leave behind as little trace as possible. The physician had long since learned not to interfere once Yuanzhi entered this state of cold concentration.

Without wasting another moment, Yuanzhi reached for the small blade concealed within his sleeve. Carefully, he made a shallow cut near the puncture wound along Y/N’s forearm, just enough for darkened blood to surface slowly against her skin.

Then Yuanzhi turned the blade toward himself.

The edge sliced lightly across his own skin using the same bloodied knife.

One of the maids visibly startled at the sight before quickly lowering her gaze again, though no one dared speak.

Yuanzhi had spent years learning poisons through direct exposure, forcing himself to understand their effects by experiencing them firsthand. Symptoms. Timing. Paralysis. Pain. Hallucinations. It was dangerous knowledge earned through methods few people would willingly endure.

Yuanzhi set the blade aside afterward, his expression remaining unreadable as he waited for the poison to take effect within his own body.

Physician Xu waited patiently nearby as the moments stretched on.

Yuanzhi’s brows drew together faintly first, recognition settling across his features almost immediately afterward.

He looked up toward Physician Xu. “Bring powdered qinglan root and two measures of dried suhe leaves,” he instructed calmly. “Boil them together immediately. Add crushed silver orchid once the water darkens.”

Physician Xu moved at once.

The older men crossed quickly toward the medicine shelves lining the far wall, already gathering the necessary herbs without needing the instructions repeated. Only after he stepped away did Yuanzhi lower his attention back toward Y/N.

He quietly reached into his sleeve and pulled out his handkerchief before carefully wiping away the remaining blood along her forearm, his movements slower now than before. Once the mark had been cleaned properly, Yuanzhi let her sleeve fall gently back into place beneath the blankets. For a brief moment afterward, he simply looked at her.

Strands of dark hair still clung faintly against her forehead from the earlier dampness despite the efforts to dry it. Without thinking much about it, Yuanzhi lifted his hand and brushed them back carefully away from her cold skin. His fingers lingered only briefly before withdrawing again.

The quiet stillness within the infirmary lasted another moment before he finally spoke, his voice calm despite the tension that had settled heavily throughout the chamber.

“You may leave us.”

The maids bowed immediately at the dismissal, beginning to gather the Y/N’s used cloths.

“And send one of the guards stationed outside inside,” Yuanzhi added without looking away from Y/N.

“Yes, Young Master.”

Only a moment later, another figure entered.

One of the guards stepped inside before stopping several paces away from the bed. He bowed properly at once, hands clasped respectfully before him in formal greeting.

“Young Master Yuanzhi.”

“Go inform the Sword Wielder that Lady Han was poisoned,” Yuanzhi instructed, wasting no time.

The guard visibly stiffened at the words despite himself, surprise flashing briefly across his expression before discipline returned almost immediately.

Yuanzhi continued before the man could speak. “Tell them to bring back the young lady who was beside her at the time of the incident.”

“Yes, Young Master.”

The guard bowed deeply once more before turning quickly and disappearing from the infirmary to carry out the order.

Several quiet minutes passed afterward.

Yuanzhi remained seated beside Y/N while the warmth beneath his skin slowly worsened, the poison continuing its gradual spread through his body. He recognized the feeling immediately. The faint heat settling through his chest and limbs. The growing tightness beneath his ribs.

Years of repeated exposure had altered his tolerance long ago, allowing certain poisons to affect him slower than they would most people.

The physician approached once the medicine had finished brewing and lowered himself beside the bed, two steaming bowls balanced carefully in his hands. He set one upon the ground near his feet as the bitter scent of the medicinal concoction slowly spread through the room, curling into the air with the rising steam.

“Young Master,” Physician Xu said, gesturing toward Y/N. “Please support her head so I can give her the remedy.”

Without hesitation, Yuanzhi slipped one arm carefully behind Y/N’s shoulders before lifting her upright against him.

Most of her weight settled naturally against his chest as Yuanzhi adjusted his grip slightly, one hand moving to steady the back of her neck while Physician Xu lifted the spoon toward her lips.

Neither man spoke during the process.

Only once the bowl had finally emptied did Physician Xu lower it again.

Yuanzhi carefully eased Y/N back against the bedding afterward, lowering her slowly before pulling the blankets securely back around her shoulders.

Then, Physician Xu handed him the second bowl. Yuanzhi accepted it without hesitation and drank the bitter remedy quickly before setting the empty bowl back down beside the bed.

“Angel Wings.” The physician confirmed slowly. “Smart.”

Yuanzhi exhaled quietly at the name.

One of the ingredients stolen earlier from the Gong medical cabinets had been moonvine extract, harmless by itself in small quantities, but combined with crowleaf and crushed white aconite…

The result became something far more dangerous.

The Angel Wings poison had been designed to work steadily through the body over the course of roughly an hour, though in some cases it could take as long as two. It gradually weakened the pulse and slowed the breathing before eventually causing complete collapse followed by organ failure. The poison was favored by some assassins because it did not kill quickly enough to draw immediate suspicion, allowing them time to distance themselves from the victim, yet it progressed fast enough that the true cause of the victim’s sudden illness was rarely investigated thoroughly before death followed. Inexperienced caretakers often failed to recognize it, as the symptoms could easily be mistaken for severe pneumonia or complications of the heart instead.

Physician Xu reached for the damp cloth resting beside the basin and gently wiped the moisture from Y/N’s brow. Even unconscious, she frowned faintly at the touch. “The cold water likely accelerated the poison’s effects,” he said quietly.

Yuanzhi’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. Without speaking, he reached back toward Y/N and rested his fingers carefully against her wrist once more, the faint warmth gradually returning beneath her skin enough to ease some of the tension that had remained within him until now.

Physician Xu lowered his gaze briefly toward the unconscious girl resting beneath the blankets. “Thanks to your quick actions, the antidote was administered in time before the poison spread too far,” he said calmly. “You may leave her in my care for the remainder of the night, Master Yuanzhi. Until the poison is fully neutralized by her body, it will likely take some time before she wakes. I will personally continue monitoring her condition while you are away.”

Yuanzhi remained silent awhile longer, his fingers still resting lightly against Y/N’s wrist as though confirming the steadier rhythm for himself. Only after several more breaths passed did he finally release her hand.

“If her pulse weakens again or there is any change in her condition, send for me immediately,” Yuanzhi said evenly as he rose from the bedside.

Physician Xu inclined his head respectfully. “Of course, Young Master.”

Yuanzhi remained beside the bed for a moment longer, his gaze lingering on Y/N’s pale, unmoving figure before he finally forced himself to turn away. He left the infirmary without another word, the doors sliding shut softly behind him.

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The interrogation chamber sat apart from the main residence deeper within the lower grounds of the Gong territory, built from dark stone and iron far from the warmth and comfort of the family halls above. The structure itself resembled more of a secured holding prison than an ordinary room, its thick walls designed to contain dangerous prisoners and secrets alike.

Inside, the chamber remained dimly lit, the glow from several hanging lanterns barely enough to push back the darkness gathering along the corners of the room. Iron bars cast long shadows across the stone floor while the faint scent of metal, herbs, and old smoke lingered quietly through the cold air.

Yuanzhi stood near one of the side tables in complete silence.

His movements remained calm.

Almost disturbingly so.

One by one, he arranged the items spread across the wooden surface with meticulous precision, adjusting their positions without the slightest hint of hurry. Small bowls of crushed herbs. Folded cloths. A single polished knife resting neatly beside a dark handkerchief. Near the edge of the table sat a freshly prepared pot of tea, faint steam still rising from it beneath the lantern glow.

To anyone unfamiliar with him, the scene might have appeared almost orderly.

To those who knew Gong Yuanzhi well, the calmness was far more unsettling.

The lingering warmth from the poison still sat faintly beneath his skin despite the antidote, though not enough to dull the cold focus settled across his expression now.

A heavy metallic sound echoed through the chamber as the outer door finally opened.

Yuanzhi did not immediately look up.

Footsteps crossed the stone floor a moment later before Gong Ziyu entered first, the colder air from outside following briefly behind him before the iron door shut once more.

For a moment, Ziyu simply watched Yuanzhi silently from across the chamber.

Then he spoke.

“How is Lady Y/N faring?”

Only then did Yuanzhi finally pause.

A quiet breath left him before he lifted his gaze briefly toward Ziyu.

“She is still alive,” he answered evenly. “If that is what you were wondering.”

Ziyu gave him a look at the response, the faint disapproval obvious despite the exhaustion lingering across his own expression after the long night. Still, he chose not to comment on it.

Instead, his attention shifted toward the items spread carefully across the table.

“Do you know what poison was used?”

This time, Yuanzhi turned fully toward him.

“Angel Wings.”

Recognition crossed Ziyu’s expression almost immediately at the name. He shifted slightly where he stood, tension settling more visibly through his posture now as the full implication of the answer settled between them.

For a brief moment, silence returned to the chamber.

Then Ziyu finally spoke again.

“Miss Mei admitted she was beside Lady Y/N during the walk back to the estate,” he said carefully. “But she claims she knows nothing beyond the fact that Lady Y/N suddenly collapsed before falling. Shangjue will bring her here soon.”

Yuanzhi looked at him.

Not a word.

Just a long, unreadable stare that made the explanation itself sound ridiculous the longer the silence stretched between them.

Ziyu exhaled quietly through his nose afterward.

“We informed her that she would need to answer further questions back at the residence since all incidents involving the selected brides must be properly recorded and investigated within the Gong family.” His tone paused slightly afterward before adding, “We told her not to worry too much for now.”

For the first time since entering the chamber, the corner of Yuanzhi’s mouth lifted faintly.

The smile itself was small, but there was absolutely nothing warm about it.

Ziyu noticed immediately.

His brows pulled together slightly as he watched the colder amusement settle across Yuanzhi’s expression. “We still do not know for certain that Miss Mei is responsible,” he reminded carefully. “Suspicion alone is not proof.”

Yuanzhi’s gaze remained fixed upon him for a moment longer before drifting back toward the table beside him.

“No,” he agreed calmly. “But if she is hiding something… I can make her confess.”

The quiet certainty in his voice sent an uncomfortable silence through the chamber afterward.

Ziyu nodded slowly at the answer, though the reluctance lingering across his expression remained obvious.

For all his disagreements with Yuanzhi’s methods, he trusted his instincts. Few people within the Gong family understood deception, poison, and hidden intent better than Gong Yuanzhi did.

Even so, Ziyu still spoke carefully afterward.

“I trust your judgment,” he admitted. “And your skills.” His gaze shifted briefly toward the dim chamber surrounding them before returning to Yuanzhi once more. “But you should still consider the possibility that she may be innocent. If that is the case, her family will not remain silent if they learn she was brought here and subjected to interrogation.”

“Her identity became questionable the moment inconsistencies appeared in her answers earlier this evening,” Yuanzhi replied evenly at last. “And what happened tonight only proves that waiting for the portraits results to verify the girl’s identity is no longer an option.” As he spoke, his fingers adjusted one of the knife resting upon the table almost absentmindedly, the controlled movement somehow making the quietness in his voice feel even colder.

“We were fortunate tonight,” Yuanzhi continued. “Miss Y/N could have died.” Yuanzhi finally lifted his gaze fully toward Ziyu again, the calm certainty within his expression never once wavering. “We cannot afford to sit back and wait while Wufeng moves freely inside our territory,” he said calmly. “The families allied with the Gong residence were given the opportunity to refuse the invitation to the bridal selection from the beginning. They know exactly what kind of family we are, and if they still chose to send their daughters and granddaughters here despite the risks, then they already accepted the possibility of what could happen once they entered Gong territory.”

Ziyu remained quiet for a moment after hearing the explanation, the lanternlight catching faintly across the tension lingering within his expression. “I understand that,” he admitted at last.

But that still does not give us free rein to do whatever we please.” His voice remained calm, though firmer now. “These women entered the Gong residence as guests. While they remain here, we also carry responsibility toward them to ensure they are treated as such.”

Yuanzhi’s attention lowered briefly toward the table beside him before he answered. “That is assuming they truly are guests at all,” he said slowly.

Ziyu exhaled quietly through his nose afterward. “Until we have proof,” Ziyu continued, “they are still guests of the Gong family.” His gaze held steadily upon Yuanzhi now. “So find proof first. Once you do, no one will question your methods afterward if backlash comes from it.”

The corner of Yuanzhi’s mouth lifted faintly again at that.

“I will gladly take the blame,” he replied calmly. “My reputation within the martial world was never particularly admirable to begin with.”

Before Ziyu could answer back, a heavy metallic sound echoed through the chamber as the iron door opened once more.

Miss Mei stepped into the chamber first, her frightened gaze moving uneasily through the dim room while traces of distress still lingered across her expression. A step behind her came Shangjue, one hand rested lightly behind his back while the other remained free at his side, his attention never once straying fully from the young woman

The woman’s steps slowed almost immediately after crossing the threshold, unease flashing visibly across her face as her gaze settled upon the two men already waiting inside the chamber.

She bowed deeply at once.

“Master Yuanzhi. Sword Wielder,” she greeted softly, though the slight trembling within her voice betrayed her nerves almost immediately.

Yuanzhi’s expression remained calm as he watched her.

“I apologize for keeping you awake so late, Miss Mei,” he said evenly. “But what happened tonight is a serious matter and must be addressed properly.”

Mei lowered her gaze quickly. “I understand,” she replied quietly. “And I will do anything I can to help. But like I explained earlier… I truly do not know very much.”

Yuanzhi gave a small nod at that, his demeanor remaining surprisingly composed. “I am sure you understand these procedures are necessary.”

“Of course,” she answered softly.

Only then did Yuanzhi gesture toward the single chair positioned near the center of the chamber.

“Please. Sit.”

Miss Mei hesitated only briefly before obeying, lowering herself slowly into the chair. Up close, the exhaustion from the evening seemed more noticeable now beneath the lanternlight.

Then Shangjue finally spoke.

“I gathered statements from the guards and the other selected ladies who were present during the incident,” he said calmly. “It appears no one clearly witnessed what happened. Most only heard a scream before turning in time to see Lady Han fall into the river below.”

He paused briefly afterward. “Multiple witnesses confirmed that Miss Mei was walking beside her at the time.”

Mei straightened slightly within her chair at once, sadness flashing visibly across her expression. “I was beside her,” she admitted quickly. “But she suddenly collapsed. Everything happened so fast… there was nothing I could do.”

Yuanzhi folded his arms loosely across his chest, his expression sympathetic. “Of course. We understand you were simply unfortunate enough to be beside her when it happened.” His gaze lingered upon her quietly a moment longer before he continued. “But did you notice anything unusual before she fell?”

Miss Mei shook her head immediately, her eyes already beginning to glisten with unshed tears. “It was dark,” she said softly. “And everything happened so quickly. I am sorry… I wish I could be more helpful.”

She sniffed quietly before looking back toward them again, genuine worry seemingly settling across her features now. “Will Lady Y/N be alright?” she asked softly. “I have been so worried about her that my stomach has felt unsettled ever since.”

Yuanzhi did not answer her immediately. Instead, his gaze dropped briefly before shifting away from her altogether, as though avoiding the answer entirely.

Near the back of the chamber, Shangjue and Ziyu remained silent now, both clearly allowing Yuanzhi to guide the conversation without interference.

After a moment, Yuanzhi spoke again. “Did Lady Y/N speak much during the walk back toward the Ladies’ Estate?”

Mei nodded faintly, still visibly emotional.

“Yes… we spoke a little.”

“What about?”

Her gaze lowered toward her hands resting within her lap. “Mostly about the evening,” she answered quietly. “Everyone had been discussing it earlier…”

Yuanzhi nodded once. “And how did Lady Y/N appear during that time?”

Miss Mei sniffed softly again before answering. “She seemed alright at first.” A faint sadness crossed her expression. “She even mentioned wanting to visit the firefly festival in my hometown someday…” Her voice trailed off slightly afterward…Then something seemed to shift faintly across her face, almost like sudden realization.

“But…”

Yuanzhi’s eyes lifted immediately.

“Well… now that I think about it,” she admitted quietly, “during the walk back she kept mentioning how tired she was. I remember thinking she looked somewhat pale as well.”

Yuanzhi remained silent, allowing her to continue.

“She stumbled a few times along the path too,” Mei added softly. “At first I assumed it was only because of the darkness and uneven ground, but now…” Her gaze lowered briefly toward her hands. “Perhaps she had already been unwell before the fall.”

Yuanzhi’s gaze sharpened slightly with interest. “So she already felt unwell beforehand.”

Miss Mei nodded weakly. “She insisted she was fine,” she whispered. “I believed her until she fell.” Tears finally slipped down her face as she looked back toward him once more. “Is she alright?”

A quiet silence followed afterward.

Yuanzhi said nothing immediately, though his eyes remained resting upon her a moment longer than before while Mei sat within the chair appearing visibly distressed, her fingers tightening faintly together within her lap.

“Please tell me, Master Yuanzhi…” Mei’s voice faltered into something smaller, almost pleading now.

His lips pressed together faintly.

For the briefest instant, his gaze flickered toward his brother across the room. Nothing was spoken between them, yet something passed there all the same. A quiet understanding. A decision already made.

Only then did Yuanzhi speak.

“Perhaps your explanation helped us understand the situation better,” he said quietly. “The physicians initially struggled to determine what caused her condition, but if Lady Han had already been weakened beforehand like you described, then the freezing river likely worsened things significantly.” His expression remained unreadable as he spoke. “She died in the guards’ arms before reaching the residence.”

The reaction was immediate.

Mei’s reaction came instantly. Her hands flew upward to cover her face completely as tears spilled freely down her cheeks, soft broken sobs escaping her almost immediately. Yet beneath the crying, the tension that had remained tightly wound through her shoulders since entering the chamber seemed to loosen ever so slightly before disappearing again.

Near the back of the chamber, both Shangjue and Ziyu remained silent, though the subtle shift did not escape either of them. Shangjue’s expression stayed unreadable as always, while Ziyu’s gaze lingered more carefully upon the crying young woman now, something more thoughtful settling behind his eyes.

For several long moments, the only sound filling the chamber came from Mei’s quiet crying, the grief she displayed convincing enough that most people likely would have softened at the sight.

Yuanzhi simply watched her in silence before eventually exhaling quietly through his nose. “I am sorry, Miss Mei,” he said, his tone noticeably calmer now than earlier. “I understand this must be difficult to hear. Lady Han was your friend.”

The sobbing behind her hands seemed to lessen slightly at the words.

Yuanzhi’s gaze lingered upon her another moment before he finally reached into his sleeve and withdrew a folded handkerchief.

“Here,” he said quietly, offering it toward her.

Mei hesitated only briefly before accepting it with trembling hands, clearly too distressed to pay much attention to the cloth itself before pressing it quickly against her eyes.

Without another comment, Yuanzhi turned away from her afterward and walked back toward the side table near the wall where the untouched pot of tea still rested beneath the dim lanternlight. Thin wisps of steam no longer rose as strongly from it now, though the liquid inside remained warm as he calmly poured tea into one of the waiting cups.

Instead, he turned calmly back toward the nearby table and poured tea into one of the waiting cups while Mei continued wiping at her face quietly behind him.

Neither Shangjue nor Ziyu interrupted.

The chamber remained heavy with silence as Yuanzhi lifted the cup and crossed back toward her once more. “Drink something,” he said.

Mei slowly lowered the cloth from her face and looked up at him through reddened eyes before giving a weak shake of her head. “I…” Her voice caught slightly from crying. “I do not think I could stomach anything right now.”

Yuanzhi paused briefly at the response, then his gaze lowered toward the handkerchief still clenched within her hands.

“Oh,” he said lightly. “My mistake. I gave you a used one.”

Mei frowned faintly before finally looking down herself. Faint brownish-red stains streaked across parts of the handkerchief now where her tears had dampened it, the marks unmistakably resembling dried blood.

For a brief moment, she only stared at it in confusion.

“The physicians attempted to draw blood from Lady Han earlier,” Yuanzhi explained calmly. “I must have grabbed it by mistake.”

The effect was immediate.

The color drained rapidly from Mei’s face as the handkerchief slipped abruptly from her fingers onto the stone floor below. For the first time since entering the chamber, the composure she had maintained so carefully seemed to crack visibly.

Her breathing turned uneven almost immediately afterward as she quickly wiped at her eyes again using her sleeve instead, as though suddenly desperate to remove any remaining traces from her skin.

Across the chamber, the subtle shift did not go unnoticed. Ziyu’s brows furrowed slightly at the reaction, something about the sudden panic clearly striking him as excessive. Shangjue remained silent as always, though his gaze rested steadily upon Mei now with sharpened attention.

Meanwhile, Yuanzhi himself remained perfectly calm.

“There is no reason to panic,” he reassured gently. “It is only a little blood.”

Mei swallowed visibly. “…Blood from a dead person,” she whispered back quickly, though the slight instability in her voice betrayed her rising panic almost immediately afterward.

Yuanzhi tilted his head slightly. “You will be fine,” he said calmly.

For a brief moment, Mei seemed to force herself to steady her breathing again before slowly rising from the chair.

“I…” She lowered her gaze. “If there is nothing else, then perhaps I should return for the evening.” Her voice softened further. “I would like some time alone to grieve my friend.”

A quiet silence settled throughout the chamber after the request.

Yuanzhi looked at her for a moment before the corner of his mouth lifted faintly, the expression polite enough on the surface that most people may have mistaken it for reassurance. Yet something colder lingered quietly beneath it.

“I would prefer if you remained here a little longer,” he said evenly. “After all, if Lady Y/N truly carried some form of illness before her death, then it is entirely possible she may have passed it on to you as well.”

The words seemed to drain what little color remained from Mei’s face. For a brief moment, she stood completely still before forcing herself to steady her breathing again.

“I understand,” she said softly, though her voice still sounded strained. “But perhaps it would be better if I remained confined within my room at the Ladies’ Estate instead.” Her hands tightened faintly within her sleeves before she glanced uneasily around the stone chamber surrounding them. “The air inside this chamber is very humid,” she admitted quietly. “I am not accustomed to environments like this.”

A quiet silence followed afterward.

Then Shangjue spoke. “Oh, right,” he said calmly. “You mentioned earlier that you came from Yunhe.”

Mei nodded quickly in agreement, though the unease lingering across her face remained obvious now.

“Yes.”

Shangjue’s expression did not shift. “I remember telling you this evening that I visited there once,” he continued evenly. “It was very beautiful.”

Some of the tension in Mei’s posture seemed to loosen slightly at the familiar topic.

“Thank you,” she replied softly. “It is a very charming town.”

Only then did Ziyu suddenly look toward Shangjue with a slight furrow between his brows. “But you mentioned something incorrectly earlier, did you not?” he asked.

Shangjue’s gaze shifted toward him calmly.

Ziyu rested a hand briefly against his shoulder while continuing, “You said Yunhe’s climate was dry… but isn’t it the complete opposite? That region is known for its mountain fog and heavy moisture because of the surrounding waterways.”

Shangjue gave a small nod, almost thoughtful. “That was my mistake,” he admitted quietly. His eyes returned to Mei.

“Miss Mei,” he asked calmly, “why did you not correct me earlier?”

Mei blinked several times at the sudden question before lowering her gaze quickly toward the floor, her teeth catching lightly against her lower lip.

“I… I simply did not wish to appear rude by contradicting you, Master Shangjue.”

Yuanzhi crossed his arms loosely at the exchange, his expression settling into something almost thoughtful as his gaze lingered quietly upon Mei. “How considerate of you,” he said softly, though whether the words were genuine or mocking was difficult to tell beneath the calmness in his voice.

His eyes drifted briefly around the stone chamber afterward before returning to her once more.

“But now I am somewhat confused,” Yuanzhi continued evenly. “Moments ago, you claimed you were unaccustomed to humid environments because of Yunhe’s dry air. But turns out Yunhe is actually known for being a very moist region.” A faint pause followed before the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. “So if I understand correctly, then there should be no problem with you remaining here a few more hours until we clear you of any possible illness.”

Mei swallowed hard. Her gaze flickered briefly between the three men standing before her. “I…” Her voice faltered slightly before she forced herself to continue. “Perhaps I misspoke earlier.”

“Mm.” Yuanzhi gave a small nod as though the explanation made perfect sense. “That happens often when people are nervous.”

For a moment, Mei seemed to relax slightly at the response.

Yuanzhi watched her quietly before moving closer at an unhurried pace, stopping directly in front of where she stood beside the chair. Then, slowly, he leaned down slightly until his face sat nearly level with hers, forcing her to properly meet his gaze at close distance.

“You must have also been terribly nervous earlier this evening,” he said softly, “when you mentioned that the firefly festival in Yunhe takes place during spring instead of autumn.”

The relief that had just begun settling across Mei’s expression disappeared immediately.

She froze.

For one sharp instant, something flashed through her eyes.

Not fear.

Calculation.

Yuanzhi reacted almost immediately.

The movement came so suddenly it barely registered at first beneath the lanternlight as Mei’s hand slipped into her sleeve and a narrow blade flashed free toward his throat.

At the same moment, the chamber erupted into motion.

Ziyu surged forward while somewhere behind him the sharp metallic sound of a sword unsheathing cut violently through the silence.

But Yuanzhi moved first.

His hand caught Mei’s wrist before the blade could fully swing toward him, twisting sharply enough to force the knife off course as the two collided hard against the nearby table. Ceramic bowls crashed loudly onto the ground around them while Mei fought viciously beneath his grip, the calm frightened demeanor from earlier disappearing entirely.

Yuanzhi forced her arm downward while Ziyu grabbed hold of her other wrist to stop her from reaching for another hidden weapon. Even restrained, Mei struggled fiercely against them, her movements fast and precise in ways no ordinary noblewoman should have been capable of.

“Careful,” Shangjue warned sharply as he stepped beside them, sword already drawn. “She may still have more hidden blades.”

Mei twisted violently again, nearly wrenching herself free before Shangjue seized hold of her shoulder and slammed her hard enough against the stone pillar nearby to finally break her balance.

Together, the three men dragged her forcefully across the chamber toward the far side of the room where a pair of iron restraints hung suspended from heavy chains overhead. Mei fought them the entire way, her shoes scraping harshly against the stone floor while the chains above rattled loudly the moment the iron cuffs finally snapped shut around her wrists.

Only then did the struggle stop.

For several long seconds afterward, Mei remained where she was beneath the restraints, breathing heavily from exertion while loose strands of dark hair clung against her face and neck. The rise and fall of her chest had become uneven now beneath the strain of the fight, though the defiance lingering within her expression remained entirely untouched.

Slowly, she lifted her head.

The frightened grief from earlier had vanished completely.

No trembling tears remained. No soft voice. No frightened noblewoman cornered inside an interrogation chamber.

What stared back at them now felt entirely different.

Anger lingered sharply within her gaze, cold and cutting beneath the dim lanternlight. Yet beneath even that, something else flickered quietly across her face afterward.

Amusement.

A faint laugh escaped her suddenly, breathless from the struggle yet unmistakably genuine all the same. The sound echoed strangely throughout the stone chamber, sharp enough that even Ziyu’s expression hardened visibly at once.

Meanwhile, Yuanzhi simply stood before her in silence.

Mei exhaled quietly through her nose and tilted her head slightly upward. “I only had a week to prepare this role,” she said flatly. “I suppose this part is my fault.”

There was no sadness within her voice. No fear either. If anything, she sounded irritated more than anything else, as though being discovered had merely become an inconvenience rather than a genuine defeat.

Shangjue continued watching her steadily from where he stood nearby, the sword still unsheathed loosely at his side. “What happened to the real Miss Mei?” he asked calmly.

At that, Mei rolled her eyes faintly beneath the restraints, the movement almost bored despite the chains binding her overhead.

“Dead in a ditch somewhere by now,” she replied carelessly. “Perhaps some wild animal already ate her.”

Near the side of the room, Ziyu lowered his gaze briefly at the response, his jaw tightening faintly. The revelation itself no longer surprised him after what they had already uncovered tonight, but hearing another young woman’s death spoken about with such cold indifference still left an unpleasant heaviness settling through the air all the same.

Across from her, Yuanzhi regarded her with open disdain now, whatever trace of civility he had worn earlier long since abandoned.

“It must have been frustrating once the portrait verification was announced,” he said evenly after a moment. “You knew you had very little time left before your identity was exposed.”

The chains above Mei’s wrists swayed faintly as she shifted beneath them. Then suddenly, she spat toward Yuanzhi’s feet. Yuanzhi did not so much as glance downward.

The timid young woman from before had vanished completely as well. No trace of the shy noble lady remained anymore. What remained instead felt sharp and openly hostile, the irritation in her expression no longer hidden beneath false tears and lowered eyes.

“Your real face is much uglier than the one you arrived with,” Yuanzhi remarked coldly.

A sharp laugh escaped Mei through her nose afterward.

“You Gong men truly enjoy pretending you’re smarter than everyone else,” she said bitterly. “But tell me something…” Her eyes lifted coldly toward the three of them. “How exactly are you planning to explain to that girl’s family that the great Gong family allowed a Wufeng spy to murder their daughter under your protection?”

Then suddenly, her expression shifted into something softer. Mockingly so.

“How terrible for the beloved General Han,” she said in an almost sympathetic voice that sounded far too artificial to be genuine. “First his wife… and now his only daughter.” A faint smile slowly pulled at the corner of her mouth. “The public will be enraged.”

Shangjue’s gaze rested steadily upon her. “So that was your intention from the beginning?” he asked calmly. “To befriend Lady Han and poison her in order to turn public opinion against the Gong family.”

Mei let out another quiet laugh through her nose.

“It became obvious very quickly that I would never actually be chosen as a bride,” she replied carelessly. “So I needed to find another use for my position here. And what better way is there to weaken the Gong family than attacking the very thing that keeps the outside world fearful of you?” Her eyes moved slowly between the three men afterward. “Your authority. Your control. Your reputation for protecting what belongs to you.”

A cruel satisfaction settled across her expression now. “ The mighty Gong family cannot even keep a young woman alive under their own protection.” She tilted her head slightly. “People would remember that.”

“But why Lady Han specifically?” Ziyu finally asked. “Her background is respectable, yes, but there are other women here with even greater political influence.” His gaze remained fixed steadily upon her. “Daughters connected directly to high-ranking government officials. Provincial governors. Powerful court families.” A faint crease formed between his brows. “If your intention was truly to create the greatest possible backlash against the Gong family, then why not target one of them instead?”

Mei remained quiet for a moment after Ziyu’s question, her gaze lingering upon him thoughtfully while the chamber fell silent once more. Then slowly, her eyes shifted toward Yuanzhi instead. “If I had gone after Miss Liuyun instead,” she asked softly, “would you have cared nearly this much?” Her head tilted slightly afterward, studying him openly now. “Probably not.”

The amusement within her expression deepened faintly. “Everyone inside that hall tonight could tell you could barely tolerate the girl’s presence.” A quiet breath of laughter escaped her afterward. “But Lady Y/N…” Her gaze lingered on him another moment, something more thoughtful settling briefly across her face now. “I admit, Young Master Yuanzhi… your attentiveness toward her this evening surprised me.”

Yuanzhi crossed his arms loosely at the remark, his gaze remaining steady on her as though he could already see exactly what she was attempting to do.

“Trying to provoke me now will not improve your situation,” he said calmly.

For a moment, Mei simply stared back at him beneath the restraints, the earlier mockery within her expression slowly giving way to something more restrained.

“It hardly matters anymore,” she replied carelessly. “I can already feel the poison spreading.” Her head tilted slightly afterward. “I will admit, though… the handkerchief was clever.”

For the first time since the confrontation began, the corner of Yuanzhi’s mouth curved faintly upward. “Do not celebrate too soon,” he replied softly.

Something unreadable flickered briefly across Mei’s expression at the response.

Without another word, Yuanzhi turned away from her afterward and walked calmly back toward the nearby table. Several objects still remained scattered across the floor from the earlier struggle, though the teapot itself had survived untouched near the edge.

He poured another cup slowly.

Only then did Mei seem to understand what he intended.

“I will not drink that,” she said coldly.

Yuanzhi paid no attention to the protest. Cup still in hand, he approached her once more before giving a small motion of his head toward Shangjue and Ziyu.

The two moved immediately.

Mei reacted violently the moment Ziyu seized hold of her jaw while Shangjue forced her head back hard enough to stop her from turning away. The chains above rattled sharply as she struggled against the restraints, her composure finally cracking beneath genuine resistance now.

“No—”

The protest broke apart the instant Yuanzhi forced the medicine into her mouth.

She gagged harshly afterward, coughing and choking as she tried desperately to spit the liquid back out, but most of it still went down despite the struggle. Only once the cup had emptied did Shangjue and Ziyu finally release her again.

Mei remained where she was afterward, breathing harder now while loose strands of dark hair clung against her face and neck. Hatred burned openly within her eyes as she glared at Yuanzhi through the lingering coughs left from the medicine.

Yuanzhi calmly set the empty cup aside before lifting his gaze back toward her once more.

“You will not die that easily,” he said softly. The words seemed to settle heavily within the chamber.

For a moment longer, Yuanzhi simply continued watching her struggle to steady her breathing before finally turning toward the others.

“You may leave,” he said evenly to his companions. “I will continue from here on my own.”

A brief silence followed the order.

Ziyu frowned faintly at first, hesitation flickering across his expression as his gaze shifted once between Yuanzhi and the restrained Wufeng spy before them. Yet in the end, he said nothing. He simply gave a small nod before finally turning toward the chamber doors.

Beside him, Shangjue had not moved.

His attention remained fixed upon Yuanzhi for a moment longer, as though weighing the decision carefully before leaving him alone inside the chamber.

“Ge…” Yuanzhi said quietly, finally looking toward him directly.

The meaning behind the word was clear enough.

Shangjue held his younger brother’s gaze for several seconds before eventually giving a faint nod of understanding. Only then did he finally turn and follow after Ziyu while the heavy iron doors groaned loudly as they opened and then slammed shut once more behind them, leaving only silence afterward.

For several long moments, Yuanzhi remained standing exactly where he was with his back still turned toward the girl.

Then slowly, he turned to face her again.

The corner of his mouth pulled gradually into a faint, wicked smile as his gaze settled upon the restrained Wufeng spy before him, something far darker now visible within his expression than earlier that evening.

“You know,” he said after a while. “I haven’t been this excited in a long time.”

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The evening air had grown colder by the time the young ladies were gathered outside the hall.

Lanternlight spilled across the stone paths in long streaks of gold, flickering softly against the darkening courtyard as servants moved quietly through the residence. Somewhere in the distance, wind stirred faintly through the trees, carrying with it the sharp scent of pine and the approaching chill of night.

The seven girls stood beside Madame Ling in near silence.

White robes brushed softly against the stone beneath shifting feet, the earlier composure shown during the evaluations replaced now by something more restrained, more uncertain. Even those who had received gold tokens no longer appeared entirely at ease beneath the weight of what awaited them inside.

Beside her, Mei adjusted her sleeves for what had to be the third time in only a few moments.

Y/N glanced toward her briefly. “You’re nervous.”

Mei let out a quiet breath, somewhere between embarrassment and resignation. “Is it that obvious?”

“A little.”

That earned the faintest smile from her.

Before anything more could be said, the heavy doors at the front of the hall began to open.

At once, the quiet conversations faded.

The girls straightened almost instinctively as the doors opened fully before them.

Warm light spilled outward from the hall, cutting through the cool evening air. Y/N stepped inside with the others, her pace measured, the soft rustle of layered silk blending with the quieter sounds already waiting within.

The hall was vast.

Lanterns hung from carved wooden beams high above, their steady glow casting long shadows across the polished floor. The lingering warmth from the braziers did little to erase the faint chill that still clung to the air after sunset. Along each side of the room, low tables had been arranged in careful lines, every place already prepared before their arrival.

At the far end sat the elders upon a slightly raised platform.

Elder Qin occupied the center, composed and watchful beneath the lanternlight, while Elder Ren and Elder Meng sat at either side of him. Not far from them, the three men of the Gong family had already taken their places.

Ziyu sat with the calm ease expected of the Sword Wielder, though there was still something attentive in the way he observed the room around him. Beside him, Shangjue appeared far more reserved, his posture straight, his expression unreadable beneath the dim gold light.

And then there was Yuanzhi.

Y/N’s gaze reached him only briefly before lowering again, but it was enough.

Dressed in dark robes threaded with silver, he seemed almost out of place among the warmer tones of the hall, his presence quieter than the others and yet somehow more difficult to ignore. One hand rested loosely beside his teacup, his attention appearing casual at first glance, though there was nothing careless about the way his eyes moved across the room.

It gave the unsettling impression that very little escaped his notice.

Madame Ling stepped aside once the girls had fully entered. “You may take your seats.”

The quiet instruction was enough to set them in motion again.

The girls moved carefully toward the arranged tables, some choosing places quickly while others hesitated, clearly aware that every movement was being observed. Y/N followed more slowly, her gaze moving briefly over the room before settling near the middle beside Mei.

Across from them, Miss Liuyun lowered herself gracefully onto her cushion, composed as ever, though her attention flicked briefly toward the raised platform before returning to the table before her.

For a moment, no one spoke.

Only the faint crackle of the braziers and the soft sound of porcelain shifting against wood disturbed the silence.

The girls remained seated with careful posture, hands resting neatly within their laps or beside untouched cups of tea, every movement restrained beneath the weight of so many eyes upon them.

It was Elder Qin who finally broke the quiet.

“We welcome you this evening,” he said, his voice calm but carrying easily through the hall. “Tonight is an opportunity for the Gong family and the remaining candidates to become better acquainted.”

The words were polite, expected even, yet they did little to ease the tension lingering in the room.

Servants moved forward then, placing the final dishes upon the tables with practiced efficiency before retreating once more into the background. Steam curled faintly upward from the food, carrying with it the scent of herbs and warm broth.

Only after everything had settled into place did Yuanzhi speak.

“I trust the journey into the valley caused no great inconvenience,” he said evenly.

Several girls looked toward him at once, their attention immediate despite themselves.

From where she sat, Y/N could see the faint reflection of lanternlight against the dark surface of his teacup as he lifted it slightly between his fingers.

“It is not a long journey,” he continued, the faintest hint of amusement touching his voice, “though I understand even a short one may become tiring under the right conditions.”

A few uncertain smiles appeared around the room, more out of politeness than ease.

Then his gaze shifted slowly across the tables.

“Please,” he said. “Enjoy the tea. I prepared tonight’s blend myself.”

The effect was immediate.

Several girls stiffened almost at once. One hesitated with her hand halfway toward her cup before lowering it again, while another exchanged a quick glance with the girl seated beside her. Even Mei went noticeably still beside Y/N.

Across the hall, Shangjue lowered his gaze briefly toward his cup, though the subtle shift near his mouth suggested poorly concealed amusement. Ziyu looked no better.

Y/N had to lower her own gaze to hide the faint smile threatening to appear.

Of course he would say something like that.

The men started eating, the soft clatter of chopsticks against porcelain signaling that the meal was officially underway. That quiet rhythm gave the girls the cue they had been waiting for to begin as well, though hesitation still lingered visibly around the room.

Y/N lifted her teacup and took a careful sip.

For a heartbeat, the other girls remained frozen, watching her in quiet disbelief as though expecting something to happen. When Y/N calmly took another bite of food, the tension around the room finally began to thaw. A few mimicked her movements almost exactly, while others tested the dishes first, taking tiny bites before daring to touch their tea.

Beside her, Mei finally took a sip herself before leaning slightly closer. “Did he truly need to mention that he made it himself?” she whispered quietly.

Y/N lowered her gaze briefly toward her tea. “He would not poison us,” she murmured back. “It would bring unnecessary trouble to the Gong family.”

Mei still looked only partly reassured.

Conversation gradually began to move more naturally through the hall after that, though the carefulness beneath it never fully disappeared. The elders guided most of it at first, asking polite questions that allowed the remaining candidates to speak of their families, their upbringing, and the regions they had traveled from. The atmosphere softened little by little beneath the warm lanternlight, carried along by the quiet clink of porcelain and the low murmur of voices across the room.

One of the girls seated nearer the far end straightened slightly when Elder Meng addressed her, a composed smile appearing upon her face as she answered. “My father oversees one of the largest refined tea powder trades in the eastern province,” she explained. “We also assist in supplying medicinal herbs where we are able.”

That seemed to catch the attention of more than one person.

Y/N noticed the faint shift in Shangjue’s posture, subtle enough that most would have overlooked it entirely, while Yuanzhi’s gaze settled more directly upon the young woman for the first time that evening.

“You study herbs as well?” Yuanzhi asked.

The girl, He Fang , inclined her head politely. “Somewhat, yes. My father believed it useful that I understand the quality of what we trade.”

Yuanzhi rested one hand lightly beside his cup. “Then you likely recognize most medicinal blends by scent alone.”

A flicker of unease crossed the girl’s face, gone almost as quickly as it appeared. “Most common ones,” she admitted carefully.

The exchange drew the room quieter without anyone meaning for it to. Several of the other girls had begun listening more closely now, their earlier ease fading slightly beneath the realization that even ordinary conversation here seemed capable of becoming something else entirely.

“And which herbs are most difficult to preserve during transport?” Yuanzhi continued evenly.

The young woman answered this time without hesitation, speaking of moisture, temperature, and the fragility of certain dried leaves during long journeys. Her explanation was confident, practiced enough to sound genuine rather than rehearsed.

Yuanzhi gave a small nod, neither approving nor dismissive.

From where she sat, Y/N found herself listening more carefully as well. The conversation itself was interesting, though what caught her attention more was the subtle shift it created throughout the hall. The other girls appeared more restrained now, more aware that they were being observed far more closely than before.

The discussion drifted elsewhere not long after, guided smoothly onward by Ziyu before the atmosphere could grow too tense again.

“And you, Miss Mei?” he asked lightly after another moment. “You are from Yunhe, if I remember correctly.”

Mei straightened slightly at being addressed so directly, though her expression brightened with visible relief at the familiar topic. “Yes, Sword Wielder.”

“I have heard Yunhe’s lantern festival is especially beautiful,” Ziyu remarked conversationally.

A shy smile appeared on Mei’s face then, gentler than the careful composure she had maintained throughout most of the evening. “The Firefly Festival,” she said. “The lanterns are hung all throughout the streets near the river every spring. My sister and I used to go every year when we were younger.”

Y/N smiled faintly beside her. Mei seemed far more relaxed speaking of home than she had at any point earlier that evening.

Across the hall, however, Shangjue’s hand paused briefly against his cup.

It was slight enough that Y/N might have imagined it had she not already been looking in that direction.

The conversation continued on without interruption. Ziyu merely nodded, allowing the subject to pass naturally into another, though Shangjue’s gaze lingered thoughtfully upon Mei for a moment longer before lowering once again. A servant stepped quietly through the hall to refill dishes that had begun to empty, while outside, wind stirred faintly against the paper windows, the sound softened beneath the warmth of lanternlight and low conversation.

Ziyu still listened with open ease, occasionally offering lighter remarks whenever the conversation threatened to grow too formal, while Shangjue remained quieter beside him, his attention appearing distant at times despite the calm composure he maintained.

Yuanzhi remained loosely leaned against his seat, though the attentiveness he carried earlier had not faded.

Elder Meng’s attention eventually settled toward Y/N.

“And what of you, Miss Y/N?” he asked gently. “What occupies your time when you are away from your studies?”

For a brief moment, Y/N hesitated.

The attention resting upon her felt different now that it had turned directly toward her, more noticeable than before despite the calmness in Elder Meng’s voice. Across the hall, she became suddenly aware once again of the Gong heirs seated beyond the lantern glow, listening just as carefully as the elders themselves.

“I enjoy reading,” she answered at last.

Elder Meng nodded in interest. “What sort of books?”

Y/N lowered her gaze briefly toward the table before answering. “Stories, mostly. Adventures.” A quieter expression touched her face then, softened slightly by memory. “My mother left many behind.”

The answer seemed to settle gently across the hall. Across from her, Ziyu’s expression softened with quiet interest, some of his earlier playfulness fading beneath something more thoughtful now.

Something gentler entered Elder Meng’s expression at that. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I heard of Lady Han’s passing some years ago.” He inclined his head slightly. “You have my condolences, Miss.”

For the briefest moment, something unreadable passed through Yuanzhi’s eyes before his expression settled once more into its usual composure.

Y/N bowed her head respectfully.

“General Han has devoted many years to serving the realm,” Elder Meng continued, a note of approval entering his voice. “You must be very proud of your father.”

Y/N straightened slightly at the mention of him. “I am, Elder.”

“You have a sibling as well, if I remember correctly?” he continued.

“I do.”

“And how did you manage at home while your father remained occupied with military affairs so often?”

The question was not cruel, yet it still caught Y/N slightly off guard. Around the hall, the quiet conversations nearby had softened enough again that she could feel the weight of listening attention settling more carefully upon her.

Y/N folded her hands neatly within her lap before answering.

“I looked after my younger brother and kept our home in order so my father could focus on his responsibilities,” she said honestly. “It was important to me that he did not worry about us while he worked.”

The answer seemed to quiet the space around her for a brief moment.

Not dramatically. Not enough to draw obvious attention. Yet something about the simplicity of it lingered more naturally than many of the polished responses given earlier that evening.

Across the hall, Yuanzhi’s fingers paused lightly against his cup at the mention of her younger brother, his expression turning thoughtful for the briefest moment.

Elder Meng gave a slow nod, clear approval softening his features. Even Elder Ren appeared faintly thoughtful now, while Elder Qin regarded her with the same unreadable steadiness as before.

Y/N lowered her gaze again afterward, relieved the attention had finally begun to move elsewhere. It was only then, as another girl nearby began speaking, that her attention drifted once more across the hall despite herself.

Yuanzhi remained leaned back in his seat, one hand resting loosely beside his teacup as he listened. Lanternlight caught faintly against the dark silver threading of his robes, sharpening rather than softening the already intimidating composure he carried so effortlessly.

Without meaning to, Y/N realized she had been looking a moment too long. The awareness came only when she felt another gaze settle on her.

Her eyes shifted slightly and met Shangjue’s across the hall.

Heat rose immediately to her face.

There was nothing openly amused in his expression, yet something in his steady gaze made it painfully clear he had noticed exactly where her attention had drifted.

Y/N lowered her eyes at once, suddenly far more interested in the untouched food in her bowl. Beside her, Mei leaned slightly closer, her voice lowered carefully beneath the surrounding conversation. “Are you alright?”

Y/N reached for her teacup a little too quickly. “Yes,” she answered at once, though the warmth lingering across her face betrayed her more than she would have liked.

Mei looked at her with slight concern, though after a moment she seemed satisfied enough with the answer and returned her attention to the discussion unfolding across the hall.

Conversation had shifted again by then, this time toward travel between regions and the conditions beyond the valley. Ziyu guided most of it smoothly, his manner relaxed enough that several of the girls had begun answering him more comfortably now than before.

Y/N listened quietly while reaching for another small bite of food, though her attention remained less steady than earlier. The atmosphere in the hall had softened compared to when they first arrived, yet beneath it lingered the unmistakable awareness that every answer continued to be weighed carefully.

The discussion moved naturally onward from there, eventually settling upon affairs beyond the capital. Miss Liuyun answered most questions with effortless composure, far more comfortable beneath attention than many of the others.

“There is much instability beyond the capital recently,” she said smoothly. “Families with strong alliances will become increasingly important moving forward.”

Elder Qin regarded her thoughtfully. “Your father’s position must give him considerable insight into such matters.”

“It does,” she replied with a graceful incline of her head. “The court has become increasingly divided in recent years. In times like these, strong connections are often what preserve influence.”

Y/N noticed Yuanzhi’s attention settle upon Miss Liuyun then, his expression unreadable beneath the lanternlight before he finally spoke.

“And what kind of influence do you believe the Gong family lacks?”

For the first time that evening, Miss Liuyun paused.

Only briefly.

“None,” she answered smoothly soon after. “Only that even powerful families benefit from strengthening their position where opportunities allow.”

Yuanzhi’s fingers tapped lightly once against the table beside his cup.

“The Gong family has maintained its authority for generations without relying upon court favor.” he said evenly.

Nothing about his tone openly changed, yet the atmosphere in the hall shifted all the same.

Miss Liuyun maintained her composure well. “Of course,” she replied politely. “I only meant that influence is rarely a disadvantage.”

Yuanzhi leaned back slightly then, his expression unreadable once more.

“That depends,” he said calmly, “on whether that influence begins mistaking itself for necessity.”

Miss Liuyun’s composure held, though for the first time that evening, a faint tightness appeared near her expression. It was subtle, but no less noticeable for it. Perhaps she simply had not expected to be answered so directly.

Yuanzhi held her gaze a moment longer before lifting his teacup calmly to his lips. The lanternlight caught briefly against his dark eyes, the earlier irritation not entirely faded from them even beneath his composure.

Before the silence could settle too heavily across the hall, Ziyu finally intervened.

“I believe the lady merely takes pride in her father’s work and influence,” he said smoothly. “I hardly think she intended anything more by it.”

Miss Liuyun inclined her head at once, still composed despite the faint color that had risen beneath her carefully controlled expression. “Of course,” she replied. “That was all I meant.”

Yuanzhi gave only a quiet hum in response before setting his cup back down.

Y/N’s attention lingered briefly upon Miss Liuyun still. Even now, the young woman’s posture remained perfectly straight, her composure impressive despite what had just occurred.

“Miss Y/N.”

The sound of her name startled her enough that she nearly looked around before realizing the voice had come from Yuanzhi himself.

Her attention lifted immediately toward the raised platform.

Yuanzhi’s gaze rested upon her steadily now, calmer than moments before, though no easier to read.

“You were the first to taste the tea earlier,” he said. “How did you find it?”

For a brief moment, Y/N forgot entirely that several others in the room had also turned to look at her again. Her fingers tightened slightly around her chopsticks before she answered carefully.

“It was good,” she said honestly, then hesitated faintly. “A little bitter at first… but warmer afterward.”

The faintest shift touched Yuanzhi’s expression then, subtle enough that she almost thought she imagined it.

“And what tea do you usually prefer?” he asked.

The question caught her slightly off guard, though not unpleasantly so.

“Sweeter blends, usually,” Y/N admitted after a moment. “Though I do not dislike bitter teas entirely. I think it depends on the mood I am in.”

For the first time that evening, something near amusement flickered more visibly in Yuanzhi’s eyes.

“I will keep that in mind,” he replied evenly.

The response caught Y/N slightly off guard. After a brief hesitation, she lowered her head politely once more, a little more quickly than before, as though trying to hide the flicker of surprise that had crossed her expression.

Across the hall, Shangjue’s gaze shifted briefly between the two of them, the faintest trace of recognition passing through his expression before it disappeared again beneath composure.

Before the quiet could linger too long, however, he spoke instead.

“You are from Hanju, are you not, Miss Y/N?”

Y/N looked toward him at once. “Yes.”

Shangjue inclined his head slightly. “And how has your first night within the valley been so far?”

The question felt easier somehow after the earlier tension. “It has been pleasant,” she answered softly. “Though unfamiliar.” A small smile touched Y/N’s face then as her attention shifted briefly toward Mei beside her. “Miss Mei has helped make it less overwhelming.”

The mention of her name drew Mei’s attention immediately back toward the conversation.

Shangjue’s gaze settled upon her calmly. “Is that so?”

Mei straightened slightly beneath the sudden attention. “Miss Y/N was kind enough to speak with me first,” she explained politely. “I think I was becoming homesick after the first night.”

“I visited Yunhe several years ago,” Shangjue said after a moment, his tone casual enough not to draw suspicion. “I remember the climate there being much drier than here. The adjustment to the valley must be difficult.”

Mei nodded almost immediately. “A little,” she admitted with a faint smile. “The air here is far more humid than what I am used to.”

Shangjue gave a small nod in acknowledgment before allowing the conversation to move naturally onward once again.

Outside, the night had deepened fully now, the wind brushing softly against the paper screens while servants moved silently through the hall to clear the remaining dishes.

It was Ziyu who finally spoke after some time, his tone calm but carrying easily enough across the room.

“It grows late,” he said. “We appreciate your company this evening. I trust the attendants will see you safely back to your quarters.”

The girls lowered their heads politely at once.

Yuanzhi set his cup down beside him before his gaze moved briefly across the remaining seven candidates. “I hope tonight has made the valley feel a little less unfamiliar,” he said evenly. The faintest trace of something unreadable touched his expression then. “Rest well. I will be seeing you again tomorrow.”

The words were simple enough, yet something about the way he said them left a quiet weight behind them all the same.

Madame Ling stepped forward then, her posture as composed as ever. “Young ladies,” she said, gesturing lightly for them to rise.

Fabric shifted softly throughout the hall as the girls stood from their places. Y/N rose alongside Mei, smoothing her robes instinctively before lowering herself into a respectful bow together with the others.

“Thank you for receiving us this evening.”

The farewell echoed softly through the room before the girls straightened once more. One by one, they turned to follow Madame Ling toward the doors beneath the watchful glow of lanternlight.

Y/N stayed close beside Mei as they walked, though just before stepping beyond the threshold, she found herself daring one last glance back toward the men seated behind them.

Her eyes met Yuanzhi’s almost immediately.

For the briefest moment, he tilted his head slightly, one brow lifting just enough to give the gesture a faintly curious edge.

Heat rushed far too quickly to Y/N’s face.

She lowered her eyes at once and continued forward before anyone could possibly notice, her heartbeat suddenly far louder than the soft rustle of fabric around her as she followed the others into the cool night air.

The heavy doors slid shut behind the departing girls, muffling the sound of retreating footsteps until the hall fell quiet once more. The warmth of the lanternlight remained, though without the soft movement of pale robes and careful voices. The atmosphere felt calmer on the surface, though something sharper lingered beneath it.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

Then Shangjue’s gaze lifted slightly toward the closed doors.

“I believe I know who it is.”

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Most of the dishes had already been cleared away by the servants, leaving behind only the faint scent of tea. The room felt larger now without the movement and conversation from earlier, the empty cushions lining the polished floor beneath the steady glow of the hanging lights. Outside, the wind could occasionally be heard brushing faintly against the paper screens, softer now that the activity of the evening had finally settled.

The hall remained still for a brief moment until Ziyu broke it “You figured it out that quickly?”

Across from him, Shangjue remained composed, one hand resting loosely near his untouched cup. “It is only suspicion,” he said calmly. “Nothing certain yet.”

Yuanzhi leaned slightly back in his seat, though his attention remained fixed on his brother. “Who?”

Before Shangjue could answer, however, Ziyu spoke again, thoughtful now rather than surprised.

“Could it be Miss He Fang?”

Yuanzhi’s gaze shifted toward him immediately.

“The girl interested in herbs,” Ziyu continued. “Her father oversees one of the largest refined tea powder trades in the eastern province. If someone understood how to replace stolen ingredients without immediately drawing attention, it could be her.”

A quiet scoff left Yuanzhi at that.

“Her knowledge was surface level at best,” he replied flatly. “Everything she mentioned tonight could be learned through basic tutoring.”

Ziyu frowned slightly. "A skilled spy would not present themselves openly suspicious either. If anything, appearing knowledgeable but harmless would be smarter."

Yuanzhi's gaze sharpened

immediately at that. "No," he replied.

"A competent Wufeng spy with enough skill to enter the inner residence and tamper with our cabinets would know better than to draw attention toward medicinal knowledge at all.

Mentioning herbs after what occurred this morning would be careless." The irritation beneath his voice surfaced far more easily now that the girls were gone.

Elder Meng sighed softly from further down the table. “Enough. The two of you are already arguing in circles.”

Silence lingered briefly across the hall afterward.

Yuanzhi crossed his arms loosely while Ziyu exhaled through his nose, leaning back slightly in his seat as the earlier tension slowly eased beneath the elders’ interruption.

Through it all, Shangjue had remained silent.

Only after the room settled again did Ziyu glance back toward him. “My apologies,” he said. “You were speaking.”

Shangjue’s expression did not change.

“The girl I am suspicious of,” he said at last, “is Miss Mei.”

Yuanzhi’s brows drew together almost immediately. “Miss Mei?”

Even Ziyu looked faintly surprised at that. “The girl from Yunhe?”

Shangjue gave a small nod. “She made two mistakes tonight. The first was minor. Easy to overlook if no one was paying attention.”

Elder Qin studied him carefully. “Explain.”

For the first time since the discussion began, Shangjue leaned back slightly in his seat.

“Several years ago, while returning from a military campaign, I passed through Yunhe,” he said calmly. “There was a festival taking place at the time.” His gaze shifted briefly toward Yuanzhi. “Do you remember the lantern I brought back for you?”

Yuanzhi frowned faintly in thought before nodding once. “The carved one with the painted cranes?”

Shangjue inclined his head. “I bought it there.”

The room remained quiet as he continued.

“I remember the season clearly,” he said. “The mountain roads were covered in red leaves by then. The festival takes place during autumn.”

Understanding flickered briefly across Ziyu’s face.

“But Miss Mei said spring,” he murmured.

“She did,” Shangjue confirmed.

Ziyu exhaled quietly, still uncertain. “That alone is not enough to call her a spy. She could simply have been nervous.”

“That was my conclusion as well initially,” Shangjue replied evenly. “Which is why I only became suspicious after the second mistake.”

Yuanzhi uncrossed one arm slightly against the table. “And what was the second?”

“When I spoke to her later,” Shangjue said calmly, “I deliberately described Yunhe’s climate incorrectly and referred to it as dry. Someone genuinely raised there would have corrected the mistake immediately. The region is known for its mountain fog and heavy moisture.” His gaze lowered slightly. “Miss Mei did not.”

Yuanzhi’s hand tightened once against the edge of the table beside him. “Then we should arrest her tonight.” The sharpness in his voice cut cleanly through the silence. The reaction was immediate enough that even Ziyu glanced toward him, while the elders exchanged brief looks further down the table. Shangjue, however, remained composed.

“On suspicion alone?” he asked evenly.

Yuanzhi let out a quiet scoff, though the tension in his posture did not ease. “She lied about her identity. That alone is enough reason to detain her.”

“No,” Shangjue replied calmly. “It is enough reason to watch her.”

The answer only seemed to irritate Yuanzhi further. His jaw tightened slightly as he leaned back, one arm crossing over the other. “And if we wait too long?” he asked coldly. “If she truly is Wufeng, then every moment we waste gives her another opportunity.”

Elder Meng finally shifted in his seat at that, his expression darkening slightly. “You would imprison and interrogate a noble young lady without proof?”

“If she is Wufeng,” Yuanzhi answered without hesitation, “then proof will matter very little once someone ends up dead.”

The tension lingered heavily after that.

Ziyu exhaled slowly through his nose before speaking, calmer than Yuanzhi but no less concerned. “We also cannot ignore the possibility that the other girls may be in danger if Shangjue is correct.” His gaze lowered briefly in thought before continuing. “Miss Y/N seemed particularly trusting of her tonight. If the others become comfortable around her as well…”

He left the sentence unfinished, but the implication lingered clearly enough all the same.

Across the table, Yuanzhi’s fingers stilled briefly against the wood before curling once more.

Elder Ren spoke then, his older voice measured but firm enough to pull the discussion back into order. “The portraits were dispatched this afternoon exactly for situations such as this. Once they arrive in the villages, confirmation of each girl’s identity will return within several days.”

Yuanzhi’s expression darkened further. “Several days is enough time for a Wufeng spy to kill half this residence.”

“And that,” Shangjue replied calmly, “is why she will not move unwatched from this moment onward.” His tone remaining steady and controlled despite the growing tension around him. “Additional guards will be stationed near the women’s quarters discreetly. Her movements will be monitored carefully, but no one is to confront her directly.” His gaze lowered slightly. “If Miss Mei truly is Wufeng, the moment she realizes we are suspicious of her, she becomes far more dangerous.”

That finally seemed to settle the matter.

The elders exchanged quiet looks before nodding slowly in agreement, the decision made without needing further debate. At last, Elder Meng rose carefully to his feet, the others following not long after as attendants moved forward to assist them.

“Then we proceed cautiously,” he said. “Until the portraits return, this matter does not leave this room.”

One by one, the elders began departing the hall, their footsteps fading gradually into the corridor beyond.

Ziyu remained seated a moment longer, his expression still thoughtful despite the discussion ending. “I will personally assign additional trusted guards near Miss Mei’s quarters,” he said at last. “Carefully enough that it does not appear unusual.“

Shangjue gave a small nod in approval.

Ziyu rose to his feet then, smoothing his sleeve absently as the exhaustion from the evening finally began settling more visibly across his expression. “I should return as well,” he added. “Yun Weishan has likely been handling the baby alone long enough already.”

The mention of his wife softened the atmosphere only slightly, brief but enough to break through some of the heaviness lingering over the hall.

“I will see you both tomorrow.” Neither brother stopped him as he turned and disappeared into the corridor, his footsteps gradually fading into the quiet.

Only Shangjue and Yuanzhi remained seated now beneath the dim evening light, the earlier tension still lingering quietly between them.

Neither seemed in any hurry to speak immediately after.

Then Shangjue reached for the teapot beside him and leaned slightly across the space between their tables, pouring fresh tea into Yuanzhi’s cup without asking.

Yuanzhi glanced up briefly before giving a small nod of acknowledgment. “Thank you.” He lifted the cup afterward and took a quiet sip.

The simple familiarity of the exchange drew the faintest smile from Shangjue despite the heaviness of the evening. There were few people within the residence Yuanzhi allowed to care for him so casually anymore. Fewer still whom he accepted it from without complaint.

For all his sharpness and pride, he was still his younger brother.

Shangjue settled back slightly afterward, his gaze resting calmly on him. “I did not have the chance to ask earlier,” he said. “How did the token distribution go?”

Yuanzhi lowered his cup. “It went fine.”

“How many gold?”

“Four.”

“And jade?”

“Three.”

The conversation paused briefly after that, quieter now than before. The anger Yuanzhi had shown during the earlier discussion had faded somewhat, though traces of irritation still lingered faintly beneath the surface.

After a moment, Shangjue spoke again “There was something else I wanted to ask you about.”

Yuanzhi looked up slightly at that, faint confusion crossing his expression. “What?”

Shangjue lifted his own cup before finally speaking again. “Overall,” he asked calmly, “what did you think of the evening?”

“It was… useful.” Yuanzhi said casually.

A faint smile touched Shangjue’s expression at the answer. “Useful?” he repeated lightly.

Yuanzhi gave the smallest shrug. “We learned more tonight than we would have from reports alone.”

“That much is true.”

Outside, the wind continued brushing softly through the corridor beyond the paper screens, carrying a faint chill that had grown stronger as the night deepened.

After another quiet sip of tea, Shangjue spoke once more. “What about the girl interested in herbs,” he said. “Miss He Fang.”

Yuanzhi’s expression barely shifted. “She is knowledgeable enough, I suppose.”

“But not enough to impress you.”

That finally earned the faintest reaction from him. Yuanzhi exhaled softly through his nose, not quite amused. “She was trying too hard,” he admitted. “Most of what she spoke about sounded memorized.”

Shangjue nodded once in acknowledgment before continuing.

“And Miss Liuyun?”

This time the reaction was immediate.

Yuanzhi’s brows pulled together slightly, clear irritation surfacing again at the mention of her name. He reached for his teacup almost as though to avoid answering immediately, though the look on his face already said enough.

“Absolutely not.”

A quiet laugh escaped Shangjue before he could stop it.

Yuanzhi shot him a flat look. “She carries herself as though the Gong family should be grateful for an alliance with hers.”

“Considering her father,” Shangjue replied mildly, “that is not entirely surprising.”

“That does not make it any less irritating,” Yuanzhi muttered. The annoyance in his voice only deepened Shangjue’s amusement slightly, though he hid it well behind another sip of tea.

For a brief moment, the atmosphere between them eased somewhat, the earlier tension from the discussion about Wufeng softening beneath the familiarity of their conversation.

Then Shangjue finally asked, almost casually, “And the general’s daughter?”

The question seemed simple enough, but Yuanzhi’s movements slowed almost imperceptibly at the mention of her.His fingers paused briefly against the side of his cup before continuing again.

“Miss Y/N?” he asked, though he had clearly heard him the first time.

Shangjue only nodded once.

Unlike his earlier answers, this one did not come immediately.

Yuanzhi lifted his cup again, taking another sip of tea that seemed more intended to buy himself time than anything else. When he finally answered, his tone remained carefully neutral.

“She seemed decent.”

The response drew immediate amusement from Shangjue. “Decent?” he repeated lightly.

Yuanzhi’s eyes narrowed slightly over the rim of his cup. “What else would you like me to say?”

Shangjue said nothing, though the faint smile lingering at the corner of his mouth only seemed to irritate Yuanzhi further.

After a moment, Yuanzhi finally lowered the cup again with a quiet breath. “She appeared well raised,” he said, sounding slightly more thoughtful now despite himself. “Calm. Respectful.” His gaze drifted briefly toward the table between them. “There was nothing particularly alarming about her.”

Shangjue hummed softly. “That is a surprisingly generous evaluation coming from you.”

Yuanzhi frowned faintly. “I am capable of complimenting people when deserved.”

“I know.” Shangjue tilted his head slightly. “It is simply rare.”

A faint trace of amusement still lingered in his expression as he added, “Especially from someone who spent most of the evening criticizing nearly every candidate.”

Yuanzhi shot him a flat look at that.

Shangjue, however, seemed entirely unbothered. “I also recall you telling Miss Y/N you would remember her tea preference,” Shangjue said calmly.

Yuanzhi’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I was only making conversation.”

“Mm.” Shangjue lifted his cup leisurely. “So the next time you prepare tea, should we expect something sweeter?”

“I work with poison and medicinal draughts,” Yuanzhi replied dryly. “Not romantic gestures.”

That earned a quiet laugh from Shangjue. “I see,” he said mildly. “So…you would say you are interested in Miss Y/N, then.”

Yuanzhi let out a quiet scoff, his eyes closing briefly as though already aware there was little point trying to argue his way out of the conversation now. In the end, he seemed to decide it was easier to answer truthfully than continue being questioned about it.

“She is…” He stopped briefly, visibly annoyed at having to put the thought into words at all. “Probably among the better choices at the moment.”

Something gentler flickered briefly across Shangjue’s expression then, subtle enough that most people would have missed it entirely.

Then realization came.

“And yet,” he said calmly, “you gave her jade instead of gold.”

Yuanzhi noticed the shift in tone at once. His gaze lifted toward his brother, sharper now.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

Shangjue remained perfectly calm. “Only that your evaluations and your token distribution do not seem entirely aligned.” He took another slow sip of tea before adding, almost casually, “Miss Liuyun irritated you within minutes, yet she received gold. Miss Y/N apparently impressed you enough to earn compliments I have almost never heard from you before, and she received jade.”

Yuanzhi stared at him for a moment without answering.

Then Shangjue added quietly, “Were you considering changing the color of her token?”

For the first time since the conversation began, Yuanzhi looked genuinely caught off guard.

His gaze dropped briefly toward the tea beside him before he finally exhaled through his nose, some of the earlier defensiveness fading from his posture.

“There is something I did not tell you earlier,” he admitted at last.

Shangjue remained silent, waiting.

Yuanzhi rested one arm against the table beside him, his expression more serious now. “When I learned the medical cabinets had been tampered with,” he said slowly, “it happened while I was finalizing the token distribution.”

A faint crease appeared between Shangjue’s brows as he listened.

“I started thinking,” Yuanzhi continued, quieter now, “that if Wufeng truly infiltrated the bride selection, then the girls with gold tokens would naturally become the primary targets.”

Understanding settled across Shangjue’s expression almost immediately.

“So you switched them.”

Yuanzhi gave a small nod.

“The girls I originally intended to give gold received jade instead,” he admitted. “And the ones with jade…” His jaw tightened faintly. “I changed them to gold.”

A faint smile finally appeared across Shangjue’s face, softer than the restrained amusement he had shown throughout the rest of their conversation.

“Well,” he said quietly, “that was unexpectedly clever.”

Yuanzhi looked up slightly at that, caught off guard enough that the irritation he had been carrying for most of the evening eased for a brief second. Praise was not something Shangjue offered carelessly, especially not regarding matters tied to security or leadership within the residence.

Shangjue leaned forward slightly then, reaching across the space between their tables to rest a firm hand briefly against Yuanzhi’s shoulder. The gesture itself was simple, familiar in a way few things within the Gong residence still were.

“You remained calm and adjusted quickly,” he said. “Most people would have continued with the original plan without thinking beyond it.” A trace of approval entered his voice then, warmer than before. “That is exactly how a Gong should think.”

The words settled more heavily than Yuanzhi expected them to.For all his stubbornness and sharp temper, there were very few opinions within the residence that mattered to him as much as Shangjue’s.

Yuanzhi cleared his throat quietly afterward, trying to appear far less affected by the praise than he actually was.

“I only thought it was safer,” he muttered, quieter now than before.

“And you were right.”

Shangjue withdrew his hand then, though the warmth from the gesture lingered faintly all the same. Shangjue watched him for a brief moment before a faint smile touched his expression again, smaller this time but warmer than before. Then he finally pushed himself to his feet, the conversation seeming to settle naturally alongside the late hour.

The hall had grown much quieter around them now. Somewhere deeper within the residence, servants were beginning to extinguish lights for the night, and the colder mountain air drifting through the open corridors carried the faint scent of cedar and rain.

Shangjue adjusted the cuff of his sleeve absentmindedly before speaking again.

“I should head back.”

Yuanzhi glanced up slightly from his cup.

“My wife will start complaining if I leave her alone with our girl much longer,” Shangjue said, the amusement in his voice subtle but unmistakable. “Apparently, husband duties do not disappear simply because Wufeng decides to become troublesome.”

That finally earned a quiet laugh from Yuanzhi, brief but genuine.

“Well,” he said, setting his cup down, “she is carrying your second child. I think she has earned the right to complain.”

The faint amusement in Shangjue’s expression deepened slightly at that.

Yuanzhi continued, sounding almost defensive on his sister-in-law’s behalf now. “And your son is still young. It is not exactly easy managing both. You should be more concerned about surviving her anger than Wufeng..

“Mm.” Shangjue gave a small nod as though accepting the criticism. “You sound strangely understanding tonight.”

“I’m only defending Sister-in-law.”

The amusement in Shangjue’s eyes deepened slightly before his expression settled again into something calmer.

“You should try to be a little more sympathetic toward me,” he said mildly. “Before long, you will likely find yourself in the exact same position.”

Yuanzhi narrowed his eyes almost immediately.

Yet the reaction lacked the sharp resistance it once might have carried. Instead, it felt closer to reluctant acceptance, as though part of him already understood exactly where the conversation had been heading long before his brother said it aloud.

“Goodnight, Yuanzhi.”

The doors slid shut softly behind Shangjue not long afterward, leaving Yuanzhi alone in the quiet hall with only the cooling tea beside him and his brother’s words lingering faintly in the back of his mind.

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The walk back toward the women’s quarters felt far different from the journey to the hall earlier that evening.

Night had settled fully over the valley now, deep and cold beneath the mountains surrounding the Gong residence. Only narrow lanterns placed along the winding stone path offered light, their dim golden glow stretching weakly across the ground before being swallowed again by darkness. Above them, the moon hung pale between drifting clouds, silver light catching faintly against the trees swaying overhead.

The girls remained gathered closely together as they walked.

Soft conversation rose and fell quietly throughout the group, blending with the steady sound of footsteps against stone and the occasional rustle of silk brushing through the night air. Somewhere deeper in the forest, an owl called once before falling silent again.

At the front, Madame Ling walked beside two attendants carrying lanterns while several guards followed further behind the group, their quieter voices occasionally carrying through the dark as they spoke amongst themselves. They remained close enough to watch over the girls properly, though not so near that every conversation could be overheard.

Y/N stayed near the back beside Mei.

The path had narrowed slightly there, curving along the darker edge of the hillside where the lanternlight no longer reached as clearly. Trees crowded closer together, their shadows shifting faintly across the ground whenever the wind stirred through the branches above.

Then suddenly, Y/N felt something sharp brush briefly against her arm.

A quick prickling sting.

She startled slightly, turning her head at once toward the dark bushes lining the path beside them, expecting perhaps a thorned branch or rough leaves she had brushed against while walking too close to the edge.

But there was nothing there.

Only darkness.

Before she could think much more of it, Mei leaned slightly closer beside her, one hand lightly catching around Y/N’s arm as another girl ahead stumbled briefly over uneven stone.

“Are you alright?” Mei asked softly. “Even now, I still feel like I am sitting in that hall with them.” She let out a small nervous laugh beneath her breath. “They were all so frightening.”

Y/N let out a quiet breath through her nose, forcing herself to relax again. “I am only relieved I was not scolded the way Miss Liuyun was.”

That earned a small laugh from Mei.

“I thought the Poison Master was going to keep questioning her forever,” she admitted quietly. “The entire room became so tense afterward.” Y/N smiled softly at that.

The sound was soft beneath the surrounding noise of footsteps and rustling fabric, but genuine enough that Y/N found herself smiling faintly as well.

“I was nervous the entire evening,” Mei admitted after another moment, her grip remaining lightly looped around Y/N’s arm as they continued down the darkened trail. “I thought my voice would shake every time one of them looked at me.”

Y/N turned slightly toward her, though the movement made an odd wave of warmth rise suddenly through her chest.

“You did very well,” she said honestly, offering Mei a small reassuring smile despite the strange heaviness beginning to settle behind her eyes. “You did not seem nervous at all.”

Mei’s expression brightened slightly beneath the moonlight.

“I would still love to see the Firefly Festival someday,” Y/N continued quietly. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It is,” Mei replied at once, her voice gentler now. “Especially near the river. The entire water glows with lantern reflections.”

Y/N smiled faintly. For a few moments, only the sound of footsteps and rustling trees filled the quiet between them.

Then Mei glanced toward her curiously beneath the dim moonlight. “Can I ask you something?”

Y/N looked at her. “Of course.”

For a moment, Mei seemed almost hesitant, as though deciding whether or not she should say what was on her mind. Around them, the rest of the girls continued slowly down the narrow trail while lanternlight flickered weakly across the uneven path beneath their feet.

A small smile appeared on Mei’s face. “It is not every day a man tells a woman he will remember her preferences in tea,” she said lightly.

The comment caught Y/N so off guard that she nearly missed another step.

Beside her, Mei’s smile widened just slightly, touched now with quiet amusement despite the exhaustion lingering from the evening. “It sounded almost romantic,” she added softly. “Especially coming from someone like Young Master Yuanzhi.”

Heat rose unexpectedly to Y/N’s face.

“You are misunderstanding,” she answered quickly, lowering her gaze toward the darkened path ahead of them. “He was only being polite.”

Mei let out the faintest hum beside her, unconvinced. “Mm. Perhaps,” she replied. “But he did not speak to the other contestants that way.”

Y/N lowered her gaze toward the darkened path ahead of them, suddenly far too aware once again of the steady calm in Yuanzhi’s voice earlier that evening.

I will keep that in mind.

The memory alone made her heartbeat stumble strangely against her ribs.

Only now, the warmth spreading through her chest no longer felt entirely natural. It had become heavier somehow, feverish beneath her skin despite the cold night air brushing across her face. A dull pressure had begun forming behind her eyes as well, faint enough still to ignore, though uncomfortable all the same.

She swallowed hard before answering quietly, “Maybe he simply felt it would have been uncomfortable to criticize me too much afterward.” Her fingers tightened slightly within her sleeves. “Not after I had already spoken about my mother earlier that evening.”

Mei was quiet for a moment after that, the lanternlight ahead flickering softly across her features as the group continued down the winding trail.

“Perhaps,” she said softly. “But the Gong family is not exactly known for gentleness. Especially Young Master Yuanzhi.”

The ground shifted beneath Y/N’s feet enough that she stumbled once against the uneven path before quickly catching herself again.

Mei caught her arm immediately.

“Careful,” she said at once, the teasing softness from earlier disappearing beneath clear concern now. Her grip tightened more securely around Y/N as they slowed slightly behind the others.

Y/N forced out a quiet laugh, trying to brush the moment aside despite the unsteady pounding in her chest. “It is too dark on this trail,” she murmured. “I can barely see the girls ahead of us.”

“That is because it is,” Mei whined, glancing around her. “I still cannot believe they make us walk through the woods like this in the middle of the night.”

Y/N followed her gaze briefly toward the dark forest surrounding them. The woods seemed almost endless, layers of blackened trees disappearing deep into the mountainside while moonlight filtered faintly through the branches overhead.

“It feels dangerous,” Mei added softly as another cold gust stirred through the trees above them.

An owl called somewhere deeper within the forest. The sound echoed faintly through the darkness, eerie enough that several girls further ahead glanced nervously toward the trees before continuing on.

Y/N opened her mouth to answer, though by now the warmth spreading through her body had become impossible to ignore. Her skin felt strangely feverish despite the cold mountain air brushing against her face. Beneath the layers of her robes, heat coiled heavily through her chest while each breath seemed to come slightly shorter than before.

“It is only a short walk,” she managed quietly. “We will be alright.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded strained.

Mei’s expression shifted immediately. She leaned closer, concern softening her features beneath the dim moonlight. “Y/N,” she asked carefully, “are you feeling unwell?”

Ahead of them, the faint sound of rushing water had begun growing louder, signaling they were nearing the bridge leading back toward the women’s residence. Lanternlight reflected weakly against the dark river below while the colder air drifting up from the water brushed against Y/N’s heated skin.

Yet with every step, she felt herself growing worse.

Her breathing had become uneven without her realizing it, each inhale seeming heavier than the last. Heat burned beneath her skin while a dull ringing had started faintly in her ears, soft enough at first to ignore, though it gradually began muffling the sound of nearby footsteps and conversation around her. Sweat gathered lightly against the back of her neck despite the cold night air.

Beside her, Mei’s hold tightened again as Y/N stumbled a second time.

“You really do not look alright,” she whispered, her voice quieter now, touched with unmistakable worry.

Y/N swallowed hard, finally beginning to admit to herself that something was truly wrong.

The heat burning through her body no longer felt like simple exhaustion. Her pulse was racing far too quickly now, each heartbeat pounding unevenly against her ribs while the ringing in her ears had grown loud enough to blur the sounds around her into something distant and distorted.

She turned slightly toward Mei, ready at last to answer honestly.

But before the words could leave her mouth, her legs suddenly gave out beneath her entirely.

The world lurched violently sideways.

Somewhere nearby, startled voices broke through the darkness.

Then someone screamed.

Y/N barely had time to catch a glimpse of the steep slope beside the narrow trail before her body slipped down the wet hillside, stones and loose earth breaking beneath her as she fell.

Then came the river.

The freezing water swallowed her whole.

For one brief, disoriented moment, the cold felt almost relieving against the unbearable heat consuming her body.

Above her, blurred lanternlight fractured across the surface of the rushing water while distant voices shouted somewhere along the bridge overhead.

The last thing Y/N saw before darkness overtook her completely was the movement of dark figures rushing toward the riverbank.

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By the time Y/N was led into the common room, everything had already been arranged with quiet precision.

Cushions were set in two even lines along either side of the room, each paired with a low table, all facing inward toward the open space at the center. A physician sat before each place, already waiting. The air carried a faint herbal scent, subtle but persistent, settling into the space without drawing attention to itself.

They were instructed to kneel.

Y/N lowered herself onto her assigned cushion, smoothing her robe instinctively before settling into stillness. Mei took position beside her, her movements just as poised. Across from her, the physician remained composed, offering no acknowledgment beyond what was necessary. The white veil covering the lower half of her face sat lightly against her skin, unfamiliar, but purposeful. It was not for modesty, but to prevent recognition, to ensure the physicians were not influenced by who stood before them.

Before the evaluation began, she had felt it, a quiet tension beneath her ribs that made her more aware of herself than usual, of the way she sat, the way she breathed. Around her, others carried it too, though some concealed it better. But as she waited, the thought came just as clearly. There was nothing to control. No adjustment she could make would change what they would find, and whatever her body revealed would be the truth of it. If it was not enough, then it was not enough. So she let it go.

By the time the physician reached for her wrist, she was calm.

His fingers rested against the inside of her wrist, pressing lightly at precise points as he read her pulse. The touch was steady, practiced, his focus entirely on what lay beneath the surface. He checked her skin briefly after, then leaned in just enough to listen to her breathing, his assessment quiet and efficient. Y/N remained still, her breathing natural, unforced, resisting the instinct to alter it in any way. There was no use in trying to be anything else than herself.

The physician moved on without comment, and one by one, the others did the same, the room remaining quiet throughout, filled only with soft movement and careful observation. When it was over, there was no announcement, only a brief pause before maids stepped forward, placing cups of tea before each of them.

Y/N lowered her gaze to the cup, understanding immediately what was expected of them now. At the front of the room, Madame Ling stood with her hands folded neatly before her, her posture rigid as her gaze moved slowly across the line, observing each of them.

Y/N reached for her veil and untied it, leaving her face bare. She took the cup, her fingers steady as they curled around the porcelain, lifting it without haste or hesitation. She brought it to her lips, taking a measured sip before setting it back down just as smoothly. Afterward, she adjusted the veil back into place and let her hands settle in her lap.

Only then did she begin to notice the others more clearly.

Some moved with quiet ease, their gestures unforced, as though the attention on them made little difference. Others were less natural. A girl to her right moved with too much care, every motion deliberate, as if recalling something she had been taught. Another hesitated before drinking, her movements just a fraction too controlled, while further down, one girl fumbled slightly, attempting to drink with her veil still in place before quickly correcting herself.

It was subtle, but it showed.

Madame Ling did not speak until the last cup had been cleared. When she did, her voice carried evenly, neither raised nor softened.

“The physicians will now present their findings to the young master,” she said. “Your classifications will be determined accordingly. You will all remain here until we return.”

At her signal, the physicians rose in unison, gathering their things before leaving the room. Madame Ling followed after them, the maids close behind, leaving only the guards stationed along the walls.

A breath released. A slight movement. The stillness they all had maintained loosened just enough for whispers to emerge, low and careful.

Y/N remained where she was, her hands resting lightly in her lap, listening.

“…My physician stayed longer,” someone murmured nervously.

“Maybe it means he found something wrong…” another girl murmured nearby, her tone quiet, not unkind, but not reassuring either.

Mei leaned slightly closer to Y/N, her veil shifting faintly with the movement. “I think I was too tense at the beginning,” she whispered, her fingers briefly twisting in her sleeve before stilling.

Y/N turned her head just enough to look at her. “It didn’t seem like it to me,” she said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile.

Mei let out a breath, though the tension in her shoulders did not fully ease. “I mean… I don’t actually want to pass this test,” she admitted in a lower voice. “But I’m worried my father will scold me if I do poorly.”

Y/N reached over and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. “I understand,” she said gently. “But from what I saw, you did well. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” She brushed a loose strand of hair away from Mei’s face. “Your manners were impeccable. I could only wish to be as graceful as you.”

Mei let out a small scoff, a hint of amusement in it. “That’s not true. You were much more natural.”

Y/N only shook her head, a quiet laugh escaping her. “Then I suppose we’ll have to disagree.” Before Mei could argue further, she continued, her tone calmer now. “Whatever the result is, I’ll accept it. I think I stayed true to myself, and if that isn’t enough here, then so be it. Like you, my father might not be pleased… but this isn’t really our choice to make. We can only trust the process.”

Mei pressed her lips together, considering that, before giving a small nod. “I guess you’re right. There’s nothing we can do now but wait… and hope for the best.”

Time passed slowly, stretching just enough to make the waiting difficult to ignore. The whispers rose and faded around the room as the waiting stretched on. Some girls fell quiet, retreating into themselves, while others spoke more, as if trying to make the silence easier to bear.

No one knew how much time had passed. When the doors finally opened, the whispers fell silent at once.

The physicians returned, each carrying a small lacquered box, their expressions unchanged. Y/N’s gaze lowered briefly to the one placed before her.

At the front, Madame Ling resumed her place.“The results have been reviewed by Master Yuanzhi,” she said. “You will now receive your classification. Gold, jade or wood.”

The physicians stepped forward in unison, each stopping before the girl they had examined. The lacquered boxes were placed carefully upon the low tables, their polished surfaces catching the light in brief, quiet glints.

Y/N’s gaze remained on the box before her, its lid closed, offering nothing yet. She was aware of Mei beside her, of the stillness that had returned to the room, tighter now, more contained than before.

Then, almost at once, the lids were lifted.

A soft, nearly synchronized sound passed through the room as wood met lacquer.

Y/N’s eyes dropped to what lay inside.

Jade.

The pale green was unmistakable beneath the light. Not the highest, but not dismissed. The meaning settled quietly, without resistance, without relief strong enough to show. At least her father would be satisfied she had passed this round. Her brother would be spared for now.

Beside her, Mei went still.

Her gaze lowered to her own box, and for a moment, something flickered across her expression before she could hide it. “Jade…” she murmured under her breath, but there was no joy in it, no quiet satisfaction at having remained.

Mei composed herself quickly, smoothing the faint crease from her expression as if it had never been there. When she glanced toward Y/N, it was controlled again, her voice low. “You as well?”

Y/N gave a small nod. “Yes.” Mei nodded once in return, but her gaze did not linger on her token for too long.

Before anything more could be said, the stillness in the room fractured.

“How is this possible?”

The voice cut through the silence, sharp and unrestrained.

Miss Jin had already risen to her feet, the wooden token clenched in her hand, her box left open before her. The composure she had so carefully maintained earlier had broken entirely, her disbelief clear.

“This isn’t right,” she continued, her voice rising despite the presence of the guards. “I have always been in good health. My family—” She stopped just long enough to draw a breath, her expression tightening further. “And yet some of these girls—” her gaze swept briefly across the room, dismissive, cutting, “—receive higher classifications than me?”

What she left unsaid was understood all the same. It showed in her voice, in the way she looked at the others, as though she believed herself above them

Further down the line, a girl bowed her head, her shoulders trembling despite her effort to remain composed, tears slipping free and falling silently into her lap, the wooden token resting in her hand. Beside her, another sat rigid, her lips pressed into a thin line, her own wooden token left untouched in the open box before her, her disappointment held tightly beneath the surface.

Near the far end, Miss Liuyun remained seated, her posture unchanged as she looked down at the token in her box. Gold. A faint, satisfied curve touched her lips before she lowered the lid with measured calm, the hint of smugness not entirely concealed.

Elsewhere, a few others with gold and jade tokens allowed themselves small smiles, subtle but clear, pride and satisfaction slipping through despite their attempts at composure. Y/N also noticed a few who had received wood tokens who, instead of looking displeased, seemed quietly relieved, their tension easing in a way that did not go unnoticed.

Madame Ling stepped forward, her presence alone enough to bring the room back into order. “The candidates who have received wood will prepare to depart,” she said, her tone steady, leaving no room for argument. “You will gather your belongings and be escorted out.”

The movement that followed was quiet, but not without feeling. A few girls rose without a word, their disappointment contained in lowered gazes and careful steps. One paused just long enough to brush at her eyes before standing. Y/N caught sight of two girls exchanging brief glances, the corners of their lips lifting before they quickly composed themselves as they made their way out.

Miss Jin did not move with them.

“There has been a mistake,” she said sharply, her voice carrying across the room. Her gaze moved between the token and the others, as though expecting someone to correct it, to fix it. When no one did, her expression tightened further. “This cannot be correct.”

Madame Ling regarded her without reaction. “The young master’s decision has already been made,” she replied evenly.

Miss Jin’s expression hardened. “You expect me to accept this? Do you know who my father is?”

Madame Ling did not respond immediately, her gaze steady and unyielding. “As I said, Master Yuanzhi’s decision has already been made.” After a brief pause, she added, “If you wish to question it, you may do so directly. I am certain he would appreciate you questioning his judgment.”

The words were delivered calmly, without emphasis.

For a moment, Miss Jin said nothing. The anger remained, but something else slipped in beneath it, hesitation, sharp and immediate. Whatever she had intended to say next did not come.

She turned abruptly and made for the doors, her steps no longer measured as she left, the tension following her out of the room.

Y/N remained where she was, the jade token still resting in her hand. The space felt different now, less crowded, the gaps between cushions more apparent, the absence of those who had left not easily ignored.

Only seven remained.

Madame Ling did not acknowledge what had just occurred. She continued as though nothing had interrupted her, her tone as steady as before as she moved on.

“The next step will begin now,” she said. “You will have your portraits taken. They will be sent to your hometowns to confirm your identity. If there are any discrepancies, they will be investigated.”

A quiet murmur of acknowledgment passed through the room as the girls lowered their heads in understanding.

The artists arrived not long after. Attendants guided each of them into place, bringing in stools, brushes, and paper, the arrangement set quickly and without interruption. One artist stood before each of them, their attention already fixed, observing in a way that felt different from the physicians.

With the veil now removed, there was nothing to obscure Y/N’s features, nothing to soften what would be recorded. The artist in front of her took a moment before beginning, studying her quietly before lifting his brush.

The room stayed quiet as the brushes moved, the soft sound of bristles against paper marking the passing time. What might have felt brief stretched longer, until nearly an hour had gone by before the artists finally stepped back, their work complete.

Maids moved in again, collecting the materials with the same quiet efficiency as before. Once everything had been cleared, Madame Ling spoke once more, her voice steady as ever.

“You will have the remainder of the morning to yourselves. You are to remain within the grounds of the residence.” She paused only briefly before continuing. “This evening, you will dine with the elders and the Gong family. I expect you all to be on your best behaviours.”

A murmur rippled softly through the room as she turned and left, the doors closing behind her with a muted thud. The quiet satisfaction that had lingered from the selection dulled almost at once, smiles tightening or disappearing entirely, while a few girls who had already seemed reluctant now looked openly uneasy at the thought of facing the Gong family and the elders.

Y/N lowered her gaze slightly, letting the noise around her blur into the background. The weight of what awaited them lingered just enough to pull her thoughts elsewhere, back to the early morning, to the moment they had first stood before the three men.

Gong Ziyu, the Sword Wielder, had stepped forward as the head of the family after his father and brother were killed by a Wufeng spy. There had been doubts about him, whether he was truly suited for the role. He had once been known for his carelessness, for spending his time where he pleased rather than taking on responsibility. There were still whispers that the choice had not been welcomed by all, that it had caused tension within the family itself.

Some believed Gong Shangjue should have been chosen instead. He carried a very different reputation. A warrior with a record that spoke for itself, known not only for his skill, but for his precision and discipline. There was a weight to him that did not need to be explained, something steady and controlled that made his presence difficult to ignore.

Standing there, the difference between them had been clear.

Ziyu had been easier to look at, his demeanor more open, almost approachable in a way that did not match what Y/N had expected. Shangjue, on the other hand, had been quieter, but far more imposing. He had spoken little, yet commanded attention without effort, his voice low but enough to carry across the courtyard.

And yet, there had been no visible tension between the two men.

No coldness, no distance that would suggest disagreement. If there had been conflict before, it was not something they allowed to show now. Whether the rumors had been exaggerated or simply buried for the sake of the family, she could not tell.

What had truly unsettled her, however, was the groom himself.

Gong Yuanzhi had made it clear, from the moment he stepped before them, that he was not someone to be taken lightly. There had been no effort to soften his words, no attempt to reassure. If anything, he had done the opposite, stripping away any illusion of comfort.

Y/N had noticed it in the way his gaze lingered just long enough, in the controlled edge of his voice, as though the unease among them did not concern him.

And perhaps it even amused him.

From what little she had seen, he had not been pleased with the idea of a bride selection either. That, at least, she could understand. Being placed in a position where choice did not fully belong to you was not unfamiliar. There were obligations that could not be avoided, responsibilities that required acceptance regardless of personal desire.

He had not tried to hide his displeasure.

It had shown in the way he addressed them, in the lack of patience in his tone, in the way he spoke as though their presence was something to be endured rather than welcomed. There had been something distant in it, something bordering on disdain, enough to make it clear that he did not care to make this easier for anyone.

He had seemed entirely unapproachable.

Still, Y/N found herself looking at him.

Not openly, and never for long, only in brief moments when she was certain his attention was elsewhere, just enough to observe without being noticed. There was something difficult to ignore in the way he carried himself and the way he spoke, an unapologetic, almost careless edge that set him apart, though there was also a hint of mischief in his eyes, a fleeting gleam that surfaced when he smiled.

She understood why some of the girls had been unsettled by him. She had felt it too. Even after he left, her heartbeat had taken time to slow, the tension lingering longer than she expected.

At the time, she could not tell if it had been fear alone. It had not remained that way. Something quieter took its place, closer to curiosity than anything else.

Her thoughts lingered on him, circling back despite herself, until a single moment surfaced more clearly than the rest.

She had lifted her gaze again, just briefly, meaning to look no longer than before, only to find that he was already watching her. The moment had caught her off guard, enough that she did not look away immediately. For a second, longer than it should have been, she had simply held his gaze, too surprised to react.

He had been the one to look away first.

After that, she had kept her head lowered until the three men left, not daring to look up again. Now, the thought of seeing him again left her feeling strangely unsteady.

Dining with the Gong heirs, alongside the elders, was considered an honor, one that few would ever be granted. But it did not feel like one. Not entirely. It came with expectation, with scrutiny, with a weight that was difficult to ignore.

Her father’s voice surfaced in her mind, steady and familiar, repeating the lessons he had drilled into her since she was young.

Watch your manners, girl.

Think before you speak!

Is that how a lady should sit?

Bring those shoulders back, Y/N!

Beside her, Mei reached for her hand, her touch light but grounding. “Are you alright?” she asked, her brows drawn slightly together.

Y/N turned her head toward her and gave a small nod. “Yes, sorry. I just didn’t expect to get this far,” she admitted quietly. “That’s all.”

Mei’s expression softened in understanding. “Me neither,” she said, letting out a small breath and gave Y/N’s hand a gentle squeeze, her tone shifting as she added, “Hopefully tonight’s dinner goes well.”

Y/N nodded again, her gaze lowering slightly. “I hope so too.”

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The last of the daylight had faded beyond the mountains, leaving the sky dim and colorless. Lanterns had been lit along the walls, their glow steady, casting long shadows that shifted faintly with every movement in the room.

On the low table before them, the tray remained where it had been set earlier.

At first glance, nothing appeared unusual.

The jars were filled to their expected levels, their surfaces smooth, as though untouched.

Shangjue’s gaze rested on them, sharp and unmoving. “They were tampered with,” he said.

A brief pause followed before he continued, more precisely, “It was discovered this morning during routine measurement. The recorded weights did not match. The levels remained the same, but part of the contents had been taken and replaced.”

Yuanzhi remained still as the elders were informed of the discovery. The system of cataloguing ingredients had not always been so precise. It had been put in place at his insistence, every measure recorded and weighed, every use accounted for, nothing left unverified by the following day. It had been a matter of discipline as much as control, a necessary precaution in a place where even the smallest inconsistency could carry consequences.

Yuanzhi glanced briefly at the jars. “They are only common medicinal ingredients. Not kept under lock. Harmless on their own, but not necessarily so when combined with something else,” he explained.

Elder Qin hummed softly, his gaze still resting on the tray. “From what I have been told, no guard stationed near the ladies’ residence reported any movement during the night.” His brow furrowed slightly. “And the storeroom lies well within the inner residence. How was no one seen?”

The question lingered, not expecting an easy answer.

Shangjue did not hesitate. “Our guards are not easily bypassed, but Wufeng spies are trained from childhood. It is not unheard of for them to evade detection. What is concerning is that it was done within the inner residence.”

Elder Ren exhaled slowly, his voice steady despite its age. “They must have sent one of their best. Once Yuanzhi marries, opportunities to enter the Gong residence will become far more limited.”

Yuanzhi remained composed, his expression unchanged as the implication was spoken aloud. The selection had brought outsiders into the valley, and this was only further confirmation of the risk it carried. It placed the clan in a position that could not be entirely controlled, and now that risk had begun to take shape. His frustration did not show, held firmly beneath the surface, but it did not fade.

Ziyu’s expression remained composed as he spoke, his tone carrying quiet authority. “Security will be reinforced. Patrols doubled. The elders will remain within their designated quarters from now on, and no private audience will be permitted unless arranged through us.”

Elder Meng, the eldest among them, inclined his head slightly. “For the three of us, vigilance will be our first line of defense. In the meantime, the investigation must continue.” His gaze shifted between them. “I assume tonight’s dinner is not without purpose.”

Shangjue gave a small nod before turning toward Yuanzhi. “After learning of the incident earlier today, we agreed the most effective way to identify a potential spy would be through observation. Questioning them directly would yield little.”

“I suggested poison,” Yuanzhi added, his tone only half serious as he crossed his arms. “But that was met with firm opposition.”

Ziyu’s gaze sharpened slightly at that, though he did not interrupt. Yuanzhi paid him no mind.

Shangjue continued, a faint, knowing smile touching his expression. “The most effective interrogation is one the subject does not recognize. We will offer them tea, treat them as honored guests, and engage them as expected. The questions will seem ordinary, but their answers may betray them.”

The elders exchanged brief glances before nodding in agreement.

“Then there will be no mention of what occurred today,” Elder Qin said, his voice measured. “Let the spy believe they remain unnoticed.”

The matter might have ended there, but Elder Meng’s attention shifted instead toward Yuanzhi, his expression gentler than the others, though no less attentive. “And the evaluations?” he asked. “How did today’s selection proceed?”

Yuanzhi’s gaze lifted. “Those unfit to remain within the valley have been dismissed,” he replied evenly. “The rest were assessed accordingly.”

Elder Ren gave a slow nod. “And how many remain?”

“Seven.”

A brief silence followed before Elder Qin spoke again, his gaze sharpening slightly. “Do you suspect any of them?”

Yuanzhi answered evenly. “Not yet.”

The tension eased slightly when Elder Meng spoke next, the faintest trace of amusement softening his tone. “And setting suspicion aside for a moment… has anyone managed to catch your attention?”

Yuanzhi’s brows drew together faintly at the question, a quiet breath leaving him as though he already regretted where the conversation was heading. Across from him, Shangjue lowered his gaze slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to betray amusement, while Ziyu let out a short laugh beside him.

“You need not pry so much,” Yuanzhi said at last, his tone dry, though there was the faintest trace of embarrassment beneath it now. “The two of them have already tried. They got nowhere.”

That only seemed to amuse Ziyu further.

The reaction did not go unnoticed. A subtle shift passed between the elders, the tension that had lingered over the room easing, if only slightly, at Yuanzhi’s response.

Elder Meng lifted a hand lightly, inclining his head in quiet concession. “Very well,” he said, the hint of understanding clear in his tone. “We shall not press the matter further.”

Elder Qin nodded once in agreement. “In that case, we should settle into place. Madame Ling should be arriving with the young ladies shortly.”

Without further delay, the tray of jars was removed as the others took their seats. It was not long before the sound of approaching footsteps and the faint rustle of fabric reached the hall, followed soon after by the grand doors opening.

Madame Ling entered first before stepping aside to allow the young ladies through. One by one, they crossed the threshold beneath the lanternlight, dressed in flowing shades of white that caught softly beneath the warm glow, their movements graceful and measured as they entered the hall.

Yuanzhi’s gaze moved over them quietly, unreadable.

Somewhere among them sat a potential threat to the Gong clan and by the end of the night, he intended to learn far more about each of them…

One mistake would be enough.

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˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

They were led forward in silence, deeper into the grounds, the guards keeping a steady pace that allowed no hesitation. The lanterns continued along the way, casting a soft, wavering light over stone and water alike. Somewhere to their left, the faint sound of flowing water grew clearer, until it revealed itself in passing, a small waterfall tucked between darkened rocks, its surface catching the light in fleeting reflections.

They crossed a narrow bridge not long after, the wood creaking softly beneath the weight of so many careful steps. No one stopped. No one spoke. The line moved as it had since the beginning, guided without question.

Time stretched strangely in the quiet. It could not have been long, perhaps ten, fifteen minutes at most, but the distance felt greater, as if each step carried them further from anything familiar

By the time they reached the residence, the structure rose gradually into view, large enough to house them all without crowding, its architecture refined but closed off in a way that made its purpose clear.

Y/N’s gaze lingered only briefly before lowering again.

It did not feel like the main residence.

There were too many of them for that. It would not make sense to bring so many unknowns into the heart of the Gong household, not when even she understood the risks of it. This place, set apart yet still within their grounds, was likely meant for that very reason. They were separated and contained. Watched.

The guards slowed, then stopped, and the line followed, the quiet shifting into something more expectant as they were guided into place. Hands moved with practiced ease, arranging them side by side once more, red sleeves brushing lightly as each girl settled where she was meant to stand.

For a brief moment, no one spoke.

Then a woman stepped forward.

She was older, her presence composed and unyielding. There was nothing soft in her features, the lines of her face set in a way that spoke of habit rather than expression. Her hair was drawn back tightly, not a strand out of place, the style severe enough to sharpen the impression she already gave. Even her posture seemed deliberate, straight-backed, controlled, as if every movement had long since been refined into discipline.

“I am Madam Lin,” she said, her voice clear, steady enough to reach each of them without effort. “During your stay, you will answer to me.”

Her gaze moved slowly across the line, measured and unreadable.

“Remove your veils.”

The command was simple, leaving no room for delay.

Y/N raised her hands and lifted the fabric, letting it fall back. The world sharpened instantly, the blur giving way to clearer shapes and defined faces. Around her, the others did the same, a quiet shift passing through the line as each veil was lowered.

There were more of them than she had first thought. A dozen, perhaps more. Ten, fifteen at least. A girl to her left kept her chin slightly lifted, her posture too composed to be entirely at ease. Another stood rigid, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of her sleeves, as if holding herself together. Not far from her, another seemed almost eager, her expression bright, as if this was exactly where she wanted to be.

Y/N’s attention moved only briefly before she stilled again, careful not to linger too long on anyone.

Madam Lin, meanwhile, continued her quiet assessment, her gaze moving from one girl to the next, slower now, more deliberate, taking in each face with careful precision, as though nothing about them would escape notice.

Once satisfied, she spoke.

“You will remain within the boundaries of this residence at all times,” she said, her tone even, carrying without effort. “You are not to wander. You are not to approach the inner grounds. You will not leave your assigned quarters after nightfall unless instructed.”

Her hands rested neatly before her, posture unchanged.

“You will follow the schedule provided to you. You will not interfere with one another, and you will not create unnecessary disturbances.” A slight pause, just enough to shift the weight of her words. “Your belongings will be inspected,” she continued, her voice just as composed. “And you will be searched. Nothing is to be brought into this residence without approval.”

Her gaze passed over them once more, sharper now, ensuring the meaning was understood.

“Any failure to comply will be addressed accordingly.”

The message was clear without needing further explanation.

They were not guests here.

They were being kept under watch.

From somewhere along the line, a voice spoke up, light but unable to hide its curiosity. The girl had small but unique mole on her nose. She seemed almost eager, her posture still composed, though her eyes now held a flicker of anticipation.

“Will we be meeting Young Master Gong tonight?”

Madam Lin’s gaze shifted toward her, and though her expression did not change, there was something in it now, a quiet disapproval, sharp enough to be felt without being spoken.

“No. You will be introduced tomorrow,” she replied, her tone cool, measured. “Formally.”

The girl’s expression faltered as the realization settled in. The question had been inappropriate. She lowered her gaze at once and bowed her head slightly, retreating into stillness.

Madam Lin did not comment further. She simply folded her hands neatly before her and continued, as if the interruption had already been dismissed.

“You will be escorted one by one,” she said. “Each of you will be taken to a private room where a search will be conducted. Afterward, you will be shown to your assigned quarters. Your belongings will be returned to you once they have been inspected.”

One by one, their names were called, each girl stepping forward in turn before being led away.

When it was her turn, Y/N followed without hesitation, though a quiet tension settled in her chest as she was guided into a smaller, enclosed room. For a moment, she had braced herself for something far more invasive, the thought of being made to completely undress tightening her grip on her composure.

But she was allowed to keep her inner robe.

The search was thorough nonetheless. Female servants moved with practiced efficiency, checking every layer, every fold of fabric, their hands precise and unhurried. A few guards remained positioned at the side, silent and watchful, ensuring nothing was overlooked.

Y/N kept still, her gaze lowered, her breathing steady as she endured it.

Once they were satisfied, she was allowed to dress properly again.

A servant stepped forward soon after and gestured for her to follow. Y/N obeyed, falling into step without question as she was led out of the room and into the corridor once more, guided through the quiet halls until they reached her assigned quarters.

Her belongings were returned not long after.

Along with them came several sets of garments, all in white, neatly folded and placed without explanation. The fabric was simple, unadorned, and light to the touch. Y/N paused for a moment, her fingers brushing over the cloth.

White showed everything. A stain, a crease, the smallest trace of carelessness would not go unnoticed. She wondered if that had been intentional… A quiet reminder, woven into something as simple as clothing.

Be careful.

She changed into one of the nightgowns without more delay.

The events of the day felt strangely distant, as if they had happened to someone else entirely. Even now, standing within the quiet of her assigned quarters, she could not fully believe she was here.

She would not stay long. That, at least, she was certain of.

Earlier, while they had been lined up and waiting for their names to be called, she had taken the chance to observe what she could, careful and discreet, never lingering long enough to be noticed.

Some faces had been entirely unfamiliar. Others felt faintly known, the kind she might have seen in passing during one of her father’s gatherings, where names were spoken more often than remembered.

And then there were those she recognized without doubt.

Miss Liuyun stood not far from the front, her posture composed in a way that spoke of certainty rather than effort. Her father served as a Grand Councillor to the court, a man whose voice carried weight even within the palace walls. His influence reached far beyond the battlefield, into decisions that shaped the kingdom itself.

Another girl, Miss Jin, had been harder to miss for different reasons. Her family’s wealth was spoken of as something almost immeasurable, built over generations, their name tied to trade routes that stretched far beyond what most could even name.

She knew her own father held power. His name was respected, his achievements undeniable. He had been praised for his strategies during the war, for the way he had helped secure victory when it mattered most.

He did not hold influence in the same way those families did, not in courts or councils where decisions were shaped long before a blade was ever drawn.

The Gong family would not overlook that.

They would choose what benefited them most. Influence. Wealth. Stability. Alliances that strengthened their position in ways that went far beyond a single marriage.

It was, in the end, a simple calculation.

Y/N held onto that thought as she lay down, drawing the covers over herself. She tried to let it settle into something reassuring, something she could rely on. If the choice was made for reasons beyond her, then it would not fall on her shoulders. Not truly.

As long as she did what was expected of her, followed every instruction, gave no cause for fault, there would be nothing her father could hold against her when she returned home.

However much he expected of her, however firmly he had sent her here, he was not a foolish man. He knew the odds were not in her favor. At best, it had been an opportunity worth taking, nothing more.

And if she was not chosen, it would not end in disgrace. The Gong family would see to that. The daughters of their allies would not be dismissed without care, not when alliances depended on it. Suitable matches would be found, respectable households arranged, paths redirected without public embarrassment—

Then the realization hit her all at once.

Oh.

Of course…

Perhaps that had been her father’s intention all along. Even if she was not chosen here, if she carried herself well enough, if she gave no reason for fault, she could still be placed elsewhere. Another alliance. Something that would serve his interests just the same.

Her lips pressed together slightly, a quiet frustration turning inward. It had been foolish, that brief comfort, the idea that she could simply return home and everything would remain the same.

Even if she returned, it would only be temporary. Now that she had been brought here, now that her value had been made visible, she would not be left to remain where she was. Her father would not allow it. Marriage was no longer a distant possibility, but an expectation.

The thought settled heavily.

If that was the case, she could only hope it would not take her too far. Somewhere close enough that she might still see her brother, still find a way to look after him when she could…

Her vision blurred before she could stop it, her eyes stinging as tears gathered and slipped quietly down her cheeks, warm against her skin. She lay still, staring upward, letting them fall without brushing them away, as if even that small movement might break something fragile inside her.

Sleep came slowly, not all at once, but in quiet waves that softened the edges of her thoughts. The weight in her chest lingered, but it dulled just enough for her body to give in.

And in that quiet, she dreamed of her mother.

Of arms that felt steady and familiar, holding her close the way they once had, of a warmth she had not known how much she missed until it returned like this, distant yet clear. A voice followed, soft and gentle, carrying something she could not quite hold onto, yet understood all the same.

Have faith.

The words stayed with her, light and fleeting, as sleep finally claimed her fully.

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Y/N woke before the sun had fully risen.

A faint dizziness lingered as she eyes opened. It came with the quiet, disorienting awareness of waking in a place that was not her own, her body slower to follow than her mind.

The day ahead pressed in before it had even begun.

A quiet dread settled in her chest, familiar and unwelcome. Y/N exhaled slowly, trying to calm her nerves. She would behave as expected. She had to, because anything less would not only reflect on her, but carry consequences that would not stop with a single punishment. Her father would hear of it, and his disappointment was never contained. It always reached further, landing where it hurt more.

Her little brother.

That alone was enough to keep her steady, enough to remind herself what mattered and what could not be risked.

Still, Y/N would not pretend to be someone else. That, too, would be a mistake. The Gong family were not easily deceived. They were known for their precision, their awareness, their ability to notice what others overlooked. If she tried to present something that was not true, it would not hold for long.

Y/N wasn’t skilled in that kind of deception.

She could lie, when she had to. She had learned how to soften the truth, to deflect, to speak just enough to keep questions from digging deeper. At home, it had been necessary. Easier to say everything was fine than to explain what could not be changed.

But that was different.

Becoming someone else entirely, shaping her words and manner into something unfamiliar, something constructed… that she could not do. It would show, sooner or later, in a pause, in a glance, in something she failed to anticipate.

If the Gong family found her suspicious, that alone would be enough to put her at risk. In a place like this, suspicion did not linger without consequence. It would not take much for it to turn into something else entirely, into doubt about why she had come or what else she might be hiding…

The thought of that settled uneasily in her chest.

Wufeng.

They were trained assassins, known for having no mercy. Taken from childhood and shaped into weapons, not people. Every movement, every word, every expression was taught, refined, controlled. They were masters of deception.

They were also known as enemies of the Gong family.

Five years ago, during a previous bride selection, they had already proven it. They had entered the estate as candidates, blending in without suspicion, hidden among women who had come for the same purpose as you.

Y/N’s stomach tightened.

They had been discovered in the end, but not before blood had been spilled. A girl had died, and the former Sword Wielder along with her. The details were never spoken of openly, but they did not need to be. What remained was enough.

Y/N let out a quiet breath and lowered her gaze, allowing the weight of it to settle before pushing it aside. She only needed to remember one thing.

To be careful.

A soft knock came at the door, cutting through the silence.

She looked up as it opened before she could answer.

Two maids stepped inside, their movements measured and controlled, as if each step had been practiced. One carried a shallow bowl filled with fresh water, faint steam rising from its surface. The other held a small tray, a single porcelain cup resting at its center.

They moved without speaking.

The first maid set the bowl down near the washstand. The second placed the cup on the low table beside Y/N’s bed before turning toward the wardrobe, already reaching for the garments prepared the night before.

“Miss, it’s time to drink.”

Y/N’s gaze shifted to the cup.

The liquid inside was pale and cloudy, unfamiliar in a way that made her hesitate. She looked up at the maid, her voice quieter than usual.

“What is it?”

“It is a remedy,” she replied. “All women not born in the valley must take it. Their bodies are not accustomed to the poisoned fog that surrounds the estate.”

Oh…

The maid continued, as if offering reassurance. “It was created by Master Yuanzhi himself.”

For a brief moment, that did little to ease her worries. The Poison Master had made this… and shevwas supposed to drink it? Then…The thought followed, simple and practical. If the fog carried poison, then the one who understood it best would also know how to counter it. Medicine and poison were not so different in the hands of someone skilled enough. Besides, it would he unwise for him to poison multiple women at once… Women practically offered to him by his allies.

Y/N gave the maid a small nod and reached for the cup. She brought it to her lips and took a careful sip. The taste spread across her tongue, slightly bitter, but not as harsh as she had expected. There was something else beneath it, something smoother that softened the edge.

She drank the rest without pause.

The maid took the empty cup from her hand without comment, setting it aside. “All candidates are to present themselves naturally,” she said, her tone even and practiced. “No cosmetics, no perfume, no adornments. You are to appear as you are, without alteration.”

As she spoke, the other maid finished arranging the dress on the bed, smoothing the fabric with careful hands. The white stood out against the darker bedding, plain and unembellished.

“I understand,” Y/N said quietly, biting her lips.

Her gaze lingered for a moment more on the garments laid out, before lifting her gaze back to the two women watching her.. There was a brief pause, as if she were choosing her words with care, not wanting to say too much, yet not wanting to remain silent either.

“I’m not familiar with how things are done here yet, so I appreciate you telling me.” Y/N fingers folded lightly together in her lap, the movement small, almost instinctive. “I’ll do my best not to cause trouble,” she added, a faint, almost uncertain smile touching her lips. “And… thank you for preparing everything.”

For a moment, neither maid moved.

They exchanged a quick glance, something unspoken passing between them, subtle but clear enough to notice. It was brief, but it lingered just long enough to feel different from the careful restraint they had carried themselves with until now.

The second maid, the one who had laid out the gown, was the first to recover. “There is no need to worry too much, Miss. ” she said, her voice gentler now. “You looked well educated and you look beautiful as you are. You do not need anything to make your beauty stand out.”

Y/N hesitated, the compliment catching her off guard more than she expected. “You’re only saying that to be polite,” She said politely.

The maid blinked, then shook her head almost immediately, a hint of earnestness slipping through her otherwise careful composure.

“No, not at all,” she replied. “It’s true.” She glanced briefly toward the other woman before continuing. “The maids have been speaking about it since yesterday… about how pretty you are.”

The first maid nodded in agreement, though her expression held a hint of something lighter, almost amused. She leaned in just slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing something she should not.

“I happened to glimpse a few of the other candidates earlier,” she said. “Without their cosmetics… some of them are quite ordinary.”

The second maid gave her a light nudge with her elbow, more reflex than reprimand. “You shouldn’t say that,” she murmured, though there was no real sharpness in her tone. “Someone might hear.”

The first maid pressed her lips together, a faint hint of amusement slipping through before she straightened again, returning to her composed posture.

A soft sound escaped Y/N before she could stop it, a quiet chuckle that felt almost out of place in the stillness of the room.

It was brief, but enough to ease her tension a bit.

For all the stories she had heard, for all the caution she had carried with her into this place, the exchange left a faint, unexpected impression. It did not change anything, but it softened it, just slightly. Not everything here felt as cold as she had imagined, at least not in this moment. The people who served within the residence… at least these two, seemed decent enough.

Perhaps she had been too quick to think of them all the same.

The second maid cleared her throat lightly, as if recalling herself to her duties. Her posture straightened, the softness in her expression fading back into something more composed.

“You will have one hour to prepare,” she said. “Once you are ready, you are to make your way to the courtyard.”

The first maid gave a small nod in agreement, her earlier ease slipping neatly back behind formality.

“We will return shortly to escort you,” she added.

They inclined their heads once more, then turned to leave, their steps as measured on the way out as they had been when they entered.

The door closed quietly behind them.

And just like that, the room fell still again.

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Y/N slowed slightly as she stepped into the open space, her gaze adjusting to the shift in light. The air hung heavier here, damp with a faint humidity that lingered against her skin, carrying with it the scent of earth and something faintly herbal beneath it.

The girls had already begun to gather in small clusters, their white garments blending together at a distance, making it difficult to distinguish one from another at first glance.

There was chatter. Low, constant, controlled, but present.

Y/N’s gaze shifted toward one group in particular, drawn not by volume, but by clarity. The voice carried easily across the courtyard, steady and composed, each word spoken with intention.

Miss Liuyun stood among a small circle, her posture straight, her chin slightly lifted. There was nothing careless in the way she spoke. Her tone was not loud, yet it carried, clear enough that those nearby could not help but hear.

“It is an honour to have been invited here,” she said, though the way she spoke made it sound less like gratitude and more like expectation. “The Gong family does not extend such invitations lightly. Not every family is afforded such recognition.”

A faint pause followed, deliberate.

Beside her, Miss Jin inclined her head slightly, her expression composed, her agreement quiet but assured. There was a natural ease in the way she stood at Liuyun’s side, as though their places there had long been understood.

“It is not surprising that we were invited,” she added, her tone just as measured. “My father mentioned that the Gong family would extend a few additional invitations… as a matter of formality. Travel can be unpredictable, after all.”

She let the words settle before continuing, her expression unchanged.

“Some invitations are extended simply to ensure everything proceeds smoothly.”

A few of the girls nearby went quiet, not all at once, but enough for it to be noticed.

One lowered her gaze, her attention shifting to the ground as if the conversation no longer concerned her. Another kept her posture straight, though the slight tightening of her jaw gave her away. A pair standing together exchanged a quick glance before one of them looked away first.

Not everyone looked away.

One girl gave a small, almost imperceptible roll of her eyes before smoothing her expression again. Another lifted her chin slightly, meeting the moment without speaking, though the stiffness in her posture remained.

Everyone had understood what had been implied. Each of them had been invited here, each from families of standing and reputation. Perhaps not equal to Miss Liuyun or Miss Jin, but not without weight either. Still, the way they spoke made it clear they did not see the others as equals, and they had not bothered to hide it.

Y/N did not linger on it.

Her gaze moved past them without interest, choosing instead to step away from the cluster and the quiet tension that surrounded it. There was no need to involve herself in something like that.

As she shifted, Miss Ling glanced in her direction. Her gaze paused for a brief moment, as if recognizing her, before moving on just as easily.

Y/N continued walking, paying it little mind. Instead, her gaze settled on a girl standing slightly apart from the others.

She stood near the edge of the courtyard, her attention turned toward the garden beyond, as if the conversation behind her did not concern her at all. There was a quietness to her, not withdrawn, but observant, as though she preferred to take in her surroundings rather than be part of them.

Y/N approached her.

Her steps were light, but not silent.

The girl jolted slightly when Y/N drew near, her shoulders tensing before she turned toward her.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N said at once. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

The girl blinked, then offered a small, soft smile, the tension easing from her posture almost immediately.

“Don’t be,” she replied gently. “I was just… lost in thought.”

Her voice was quiet, but steady, carrying none of the sharpness heard elsewhere.

Her voice was quiet but steady, though there was something beneath it that did not quite match the calm she tried to show. It was subtle, but present, a faint heaviness that lingered in the way she spoke.

Y/N paused, studying her more closely before speaking again.

“Are you alright?”

The girl did not answer immediately. She drew in a slow breath, her gaze lowering for a moment as if she needed it. When she nodded, it came slowly, and Y/N noticed the slight movement of her throat as she swallowed before lifting her head again.

“It’s nothing,” she said at first, though the words did not quite hold. Her fingers tightened lightly at her side, the gesture small but telling. “I’ve just never been away from home before,” she admitted, her voice softer now. “I miss my mother… and my sister. It hasn’t even been a full day yet...”

The girl gave a small, apologetic smile, as if the confession was something she should not have said out loud. “I’m sorry… it’s embarrassing.”

Y/N shook her head gently. “It’s not embarrassing at all. I understand.” Her expression softened just a little as she continued, her tone gentle and reassuring. “I have a younger brother myself,” she added. “And I’ve missed him since the moment I stepped outside my home.”

The girl looked at her for a moment, then gave a small, gentle nod, a hint of gratitude in her expression as if she understood what Y/N was trying to do. Her shoulders eased just slightly. If Y/N knew her better, she would have offered her a hug.

“My name is Mei,” the girl said softly, after a brief pause.

Y/N inclined her head slightly in return. “Nice to meet you, Mei. I’m Y/N.” She glanced toward the others, then gestured lightly with her head. “Let’s join them, shall we?”

Mei followed her without hesitation.

As they stepped closer, the conversation carried more clearly, the tone quieter than before, but edged with curiosity.

“…I heard he can identify a poison just by its scent,” one girl said, her voice low but intent.

Another nodded slightly. “That is expected of someone like him.”

A third leaned in just a little, her expression caught between intrigue and unease.

“My sister said he once poisoned someone just by touching their sleeve.”

A small pause followed that statement.

“That—That cannot be true…” one of them said, though she sounded less certain than she intended.

Another girl spoke then, her voice dropping further. “They say that even though he is the youngest, he is the one they send for interrogations. That he uses methods others cannot stomach… methods that make people speak before he is even finished.”

The group grew quieter after that, the curiosity still there, but now edged with something heavier.

After a moment, one of the girls gave a small shrug, lifting her hand to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She seemed to gather her thoughts before speaking, as if she were reminding herself of something important.

“Despite his… character, we should still be grateful,” she said. “My father told me that if I were fortunate enough to be chosen, it would be a great honor to join the Gong family.”

A few of the other girls nodded, their expressions shifting, as if reminding themselves why they were here. One of them murmured her agreement, and another followed, echoing the same sentiment in a quieter voice.

A girl stepped forward slightly, her presence drawing attention without effort. There was a small mole just beside her nose, the kind of feature that made her face easier to remember once noticed. Y/N remembered her as the girl who was out of line last night with Madam Lin. The encounter, though embarrassing, did nothing to soften the confidence this girl radiated. When she spoke, her voice carried easily, light but assured.

“My father owns the largest refined tea powder trade in the entire eastern province. He also provides the Gong family with herbs they do not possess here for their medicine and poison.” she said, as though the fact alone was enough to set her apart. “Isn’t that funny? The poison master and I already share a common interest.”

A few of the girls nodded, some more eagerly than others, while a couple simply watched her with quiet disinterest.

The conversation shifted again after that, no longer centered on unease but on position, on what each of them could offer. One girl spoke of her older brother serving as an officer in the city garrison, her tone steady with pride, while another mentioned in a lower voice that her aunt was a fourth-rank consort in a noble household, the detail shared as if it carried weight enough on its own.

Y/N listened without interruption, her expression calm as her gaze moved from one speaker to another. She did not compare herself out loud, nor did she join in, but the thought still passed quietly through her mind. Beside her, Mei shifted slightly and sighed deeply, like she was bored of the conversation as well.

One of the girls turned her attention toward Y/N, her curiosity clear as she studied her more closely. Unlike the others, Y/N had not spoken at all since joining them.

“Oh… what is your name?” she asked.

Y/N lifted her gaze to meet hers, then lowered her eyes slightly in greeting.

“Y/N,” she replied, her voice calm and even. She introduced Mei as well, but the girl didn’t seem to care much. She only looked at her for a moment more, then gave a small, polite smile.

“You’re very pretty,” she said finally, not as flattery, but as a simple observation. “What family are you from?”

“My father is General Han,” Y/N replied simply.

The reaction came quietly, but it was there. The girl’s expression shifted, her eyes widening just slightly as recognition settled in, followed by a more measured look.

Y/N continued, her tone unchanged. “I was fortunate to be selected as a candidate.”

The girl gave a small nod, the earlier ease in her expression settling into something more measured.

Before she could add anything else, another voice joined them.

Miss Liuyun, the Grand Councillor’s daughter, stepped into the circle, as though she had simply chosen that moment to join. She had likely been within earshot all along. Her presence was composed, her attention settling directly on Y/N.

“Ah… yes. General Han’s daughter,” she said, recognition flickering across her expression. “Oh, yes, you are right. You were very lucky to be selected,” she continued, her tone courteous, though there was something sharper beneath it. “I am sure you will do your best, but… I’m you understand it will not be easy.”

Her gaze lingered on Y/N, steady and assessing.

“There are many families here, each with influence and connections far beyond what most can imagine. The Gong family has stood in power for generations. In matters like these, it is not only position that matters, but the lineage behind it. Some families have held their place for generations… others have only risen recently.”

She paused, just briefly, as if considering her own words. “I’m not sure if that is something the Gong family would take into account,” she added, a faint smile forming. “But… just a thought.” The smile she gave did not reach her eyes.

Y/N only hoped the smile she gave in return was just as fake. “Thank you for your advice, Miss Liuyun.” she said. “I will keep it in mind.”

For a brief moment, Miss Liuyun held her gaze, then let out a soft, satisfied breath before turning away, as if the exchange had gone exactly as she intended. She returned to Miss Jin, who stood nearby with her sleeve raised to her lips, her shoulders lifting slightly as if she were hiding a quiet laugh.

Beside Y/N, Mei had remained completely still throughout the entire exchange.

Only once Miss Liuyun stepped away completely did she move, her hand coming to Y/N’s arm as she leaned into her. Up close, the unease on her face was clear, her expression tight, her voice low.

“I hate it here already,” Mei murmured, her voice low. “Her especially.” She drew in a small breath, shaking her head faintly. “I don’t think I can last a week here… I’ll be eaten alive.”

Y/N placed her hand over Mei’s, steady and reassuring, her touch light but firm enough to ground her.

“There are many snakes here,” she said quietly. “Just don’t give them a reason to strike, and you’ll be fine.”

The murmur of conversation began to fade at the sound of approaching footsteps, subtle but enough to draw attention. One by one, the girls turned, just in time to see Madam Lin entering the courtyard. The shift was immediate. Conversations stopped, and without needing to be told, the girls began to move into place.

Y/N stepped forward with the others, taking her place beside Mei. She could still feel the slight tension lingering in the girl at her side, though Mei straightened along with everyone else, her posture careful, her earlier unease tucked away as best as she could manage. Around them, the line settled quickly, each girl adjusting just enough to appear composed.

Madam Lin came to a stop before them, her gaze moving across the line, steady and observant. She did not rush, and she did not need to raise her voice for it to carry.

“All of you,” she said, her tone even. “Listen carefully.”

The courtyard fell into complete stillness, the kind that held without effort.

“In a few minutes, members of the Gong family will arrive,” she continued. “You will conduct yourselves properly. Speak only if you are addressed and answer each question truthfully.”

Her gaze lingered for a brief moment longer, as if ensuring the words had been understood by each of them.

“Do not forget where you are.”

No one moved, and no one spoke. The line remained as it was, quiet and composed, as they waited.

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The courtyard was already in order when they entered.

The candidates stood in a straight line, dressed in white, their figures blending together at a distance. Even without looking too closely, it was easy to see the effort in it. The way their shoulders were held, the stillness they tried to maintain, the careful control over their expressions. They were tense.

Yuanzhi noticed it immediately.

It was almost amusing.

They had not even been spoken to yet, and already some looked as though they would rather turn and leave. The Gong men’s presence alone was enough to unsettle them. As it should.

Yuanzhi continued ahead with the Ziyu and Shangjue, unhurried, his gaze moving across the line of women without lingering too long on any one face. There was no curiosity in it, no interest beyond what was necessary. He was not here to admire them.

He was here to observe… And any one of them could be a problem.

If someone from Wufeng had been sent into the valley, they would not stand out. They would know how to hold themselves, how to control their expression, how to appear exactly as they were expected to.

That was what made it difficult.

There were girls who were nervous and trying to hide it, holding themselves still, keeping their gaze steady a second too long. Others were less afraid, more certain of why they were here, their composure coming more naturally. Some even looked eager, though they made an effort to soften it.

And then there would be those who knew how to imitate all of it.

Fear. Restraint. Modesty.

All of it could be learned.

Yuanzhi knew that and it irritated him.

He continued forward alongside Gong Ziyu and Shangjue, the three of them advancing together with unhurried steps. There was something in the way they moved, controlled, deliberate, that made the space feel smaller as they drew closer.

Yuanzhi’s expression did not change. He made no effort to soften it, letting it as it was, closed off and unwelcoming.

As they drew nearer, he slowed, falling into step just behind and slightly to the side of Shangjue. His brother’s attention was already on the women, his gaze moving from one to the next, assessing, searching for anything out of place. His brother’s presence was unsettling from the outside, but to Yuanzhi, it remained steady and familiar.

At the front, Gong Ziyu came to a stop, his stance steady as he faced the line. In that moment, he carried himself as the Sword Wielder, the visible authority of the Gong family. Beside him, his brother stood with quiet stillness.

Yuanzhi slowed a step behind them, folding his arms loosely across his chest as he settled into place. He said nothing, letting the silence stretch just long enough to weigh on the space between them.

Across from them, the women shifted almost imperceptibly. Some lifted their eyes, unable to hide their curiosity, their surprise. Others kept their gaze lowered, careful, composed, as if afraid to be caught looking too long. They had heard of them, that much was clear.

A few allowed themselves brief, stolen glances.

At him.

Yuanzhi noticed.

A smile curved slowly across his lips.

There was no warmth in it, nothing that softened his features. It lingered just a moment too long, the kind of smile that suggested more than it revealed, and none of it reassuring.

Those who had been looking dropped their gaze almost immediately.

“You may relax,” Ziyu said, his tone calm as it carried across the courtyard. “There is no need to be overly tense.” He allowed a brief pause, giving the words time to settle before continuing.

“We are grateful that you have accepted the invitation to come here. It’s not a small matter to leave your homes and stand before us like this.” His expression softened slightly as he spoke, though his posture remained strong and composed, his presence steady at the front of the line.

Yuanzhi listened, though his attention did not settle on the words. It was something he had always acknowledged about Ziyu. The way he spoke, measured, deliberate, able to ease a room without losing authority. There was strength in it, in knowing when to be firm and when to soften, in carrying both without effort.

Yuanzhi understood its value.He respected it. At times, he even envied it… But he had never had the patience for it himself. The careful phrasing, the effort to make others feel at ease, to offer reassurance where none was needed. It felt unnecessary to him. If they were uneasy, that was their own burden to carry.

“As some of you may already know, I am the Sword Wielder,” Ziyu said, his tone even and warm, carrying clearly across the courtyard. A few of the girls relaxed at the tone. “Five years ago, I stood where you stand now. It was through a selection like this that I chose my wife, so I understand that this is not an easy position to be in. What lies ahead will shape your future, and I am aware of the weight that carries.”

Ziyu spoke without raising his voice, yet it reached them all the same. His gaze moved along the line of women, not skipping past anyone, as though each of them were meant to be seen. For a brief moment, his eyes shifted toward Yuanzhi, making sure he was listening too. It subtle enough to pass unnoticed by most, but deliberate in its intent. The words were not only meant for the women, but for Yuanzhi too.

I understand this is difficult for you.

Yuanzhi dismissed it easily.

His attention had already moved on, drawn elsewhere entirely. He studied the formation in front of him with careful intent, committing details to memory rather than impressions. The shape of a jaw, the placement of a hand, the way fabric sat against the wrist or the neck, searching for what might not belong. A faint mark where skin should have been untouched, a scar half-hidden beneath a sleeve…He moved through the women one by one, not lingering, but not rushing either, committing details to memory with practiced ease. Not beauty, not charm, but distinction. The shape of a face, the spacing of feature, small differences that made one stand apart from the next.

His gaze continued, steady and methodical, until it reached the far end of the line, where it slowed slightly. One of the women stood there, nothing immediately out of place, nothing that could be named or identified as wrong.

And yet—

Still, his eyes returned to the girl for a brief second before he moved on.

Ziyu continued without pause.

“I am here to wish you well,” he continued, “and to remind you of the rules, which Madam Lin has likely already explained. You are not to leave the boundaries of the Gong residence. If you notice anything unusual, you are to inform a guard immediately. There will always be someone stationed nearby.” His tone remained calm, but there was a firmness beneath it now.

Beside him, Gong Shangjue shifted slightly. When he spoke, his voice remained low, steady, and left no room for interpretation. “Follow the rules, and you will not encounter any trouble.”

Whatever ease and comfort Ziyu’s words had offered them earlier seemed to fade, replaced by something colder, something sharper that settled across the line without needing to be named. Several of the girls lowered their heads at once, their movements restrained but unmistakably tense. Others followed a moment later, as if the weight of his words had taken a second to reach them.

Even outside the Gong residence, his brother’s name was known. Gong Shangjue was a man raised in discipline, trained for war, someone who had built his standing through skill rather than title alone. There was nothing uncertain in the way he carried himself, nothing softened for the sake of comfort.

Yuanzhi decided it was the best moment for him to step in.

Some girls dared to lift their gaze as he moved, drawn despite themselves. He did not hurry, nor did he pause, his presence shifting to the front with quiet certainty, as if it had always belonged there. There was nothing welcoming in the way he carried himself, nothing meant to ease what had already been said.

“I will not waste time on pleasantries,” he said, his tone even, as if that alone served as his introduction. “I am Gong Yuanzhi. If you have heard rumors about me, most of them are true. I am skilled in poison and in designing weapons, and I have little patience for lies.”

Someone near the middle lowered her head a fraction more than before. Another stilled completely, as if unsure whether even breathing too loudly would be noticed. Somewhere toward the far end of the line, there was the faintest shift, subtle enough to go unnoticed by most. Yuanzhi’s attention paused there for just a fraction longer before continuing.

“If you are innocent, you will be treated well,” he continued. “But spies from Wufeng have already attempted to infiltrate a bride selection once. It will likely happen again.”

The reaction broke through whatever composure remained. A few of the women drew in sharper breaths, not quite able to hide it, shoulders lifting before settling again. Near the front, a girl with dark curls adjusted her stance, the movement quick, almost restless, before she forced herself still. Further down the line, one pressed her lips together, teeth catching briefly, while another cast a brief glance to the side, seeking reassurance that was not there.

The mention of Wufeng stirring something deeper than simple unease.

It was fear.

Yuanzhi did not acknowledge it.

“Today, you will undergo multiple evaluations, including medical examinations and assessments of your character. Your portraits will be drawn and sent back to your hometowns. If those who know you recognize you, there will be no issue. If not, then there’s a chance you have taken another’s identity, and you will be questioned.” He narrowed his eyes, placing his hands behind his back. “I will be overseeing this selection personally. The elders will not interfere in this process. What you show here will be judged by me alone.”

For a brief moment, nothing moved, the stillness in the courtyard holding as it was. Without intention, Yuanzhi’s attention returned once more to the same place as before, drawn again to the girl at the far end of the line. Y/N had kept her gaze lowered until then, composed like the rest, but as if sensing something, she looked up.

Their eyes met.

She did not look away.

It lasted only a moment, no longer than it should have, yet it was enough. Yuanzhi stilled almost imperceptibly, the pause so slight it would have gone unnoticed, though it was there all the same. He blinked once, as if resetting the moment, and continued speaking without interruption, his tone unchanged, as though nothing had happened.

“Following your evaluations, each of you will be assigned a token. There are three ranks. Gold, jade, and wood.” He went on. “The ranking will reflect your condition and your performance during the assessments. Health, composure, conduct. All of it will be considered.” He spoke evenly, but his gaze swept across the line and caught the hesitation in a few of their expressions, the brief flicker of confusion that had not yet been concealed. His patience wore thin at the sight, enough to prompt him to continue without waiting.

“A gold token places you among the highest evaluated. Jade follows. Those given wood have failed to meet the standard required to remain here.” He let the words settle just long enough to ensure they understood.

“A gold token does not guarantee selection,” he added, his tone unchanged, “but a wood token will send you straight back home.”

A ripple passed through the line, uneven, difficult to contain. Relief showed itself first in small ways, a loosened breath, a slight drop of the shoulders, as if the possibility of leaving had suddenly become something to cling to. Not everyone shared it. Further along, stillness settled more rigidly, tension tightening rather than easing, the thought of being sent away clearly unwelcome.

“Weakness has no place here,” Yuanzhi continued. “Winters are harsh on this mountain, and the poisonous fog that surrounds the valley does not spare those who cannot endure it. You are expected to bear heirs. If your body cannot withstand these conditions, you will not remain.”

His lips curved then, not faintly this time, but fully, a slow, deliberate smile that did not reach his eyes. There was something off in it, something that unsettled more than it reassured, and it was enough to make one of the girls near the front draw back slightly before catching herself

“You may take it as an act of kindness,” he said, his tone even, the word sitting oddly in his voice. “If you are given a wood token and sent away, it will be for your own safety.”

He let out a quiet chuckle then, low and brief, the sound enough to send a chill through the line.

“Unless, of course, you would rather die here,” he added just as calmly, as if the words carried no more weight than anything else he had said. “We can make arrangements.”

The smile remained

Behind him, Gong Ziyu shifted slightly, a faint crease forming between his brows as he cast a brief look in Yuanzhi’s direction. He said nothing, but the disapproval was clear. Such language, spoken so plainly before daughters of respected households, did not sit well with him.

Beside him, Gong Shangjue did not intervene either. If anything, there was the faintest hint of amusement in his expression, gone almost as quickly as it appeared.

Yuanzhi did not acknowledge either of them.

He let the silence sit, just long enough for his words to settle where they needed to, before turning away as if the matter required nothing further from him.

He had taken only a few steps when he paused.

Then, without fully turning back, he glanced over his shoulder.

“Do try to enjoy your stay,” he added, lightly, the words shaped like courtesy but carrying none of it.

A grin pulled at his lips this time, sharper, something almost feline in it, like a cat toying with something it had already caught.

“While it lasts.”

He did not wait for a reaction. He simply left, as if he had not just threatened them.

Gong Ziyu exhaled softly, shaking his head once in mild disbelief before stepping forward again. His expression eased as he addressed the girls, offering a brief, proper farewell. Beside him, Gong Shangjue simply inclined his head in acknowledgment toward the women and Madam Lin, his composure unchanged, before turning to leave too.

For a moment after they left, the courtyard stayed unnaturally quiet, as if no one quite knew what to do with the silence.

Then it broke.

A girl near the front let out a small, unsteady breath that turned into a quiet sob before she could stop it. Another turned slightly away, pressing her lips together, her composure slipping despite the effort to hold it

Miss Liuyun and Miss Jin adjusted their posture almost at once, straightening their backs and smoothing their sleeves with measured care. The effort was too deliberate, too quick to go unnoticed. Their composure returned in form, but not in feeling, the tension lingering in the set of their shoulders and the slight tightness in their expressions, clear enough that anyone looking could see they had been affected just the same by the Poison Master.

Mei, who stood beside Y/N, leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I can’t believe my father sent me here to marry a madman.”

Y/N let out a quiet, unsteady breath, her gaze still fixed ahead.

“Me too,” she murmured, heart beating fast.

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

As they made their way back toward the Gong residence, the path stretched ahead, muted by the early morning fog that drifted low across the ground, blurring the edges of the bridge beneath their feet. The air hung cool and damp, settling against the skin with a quiet chill.

As if weighing his words, searching for the right way to approach it, Gong Ziyu let out a low whistle as they crossed, the sound cutting lightly through the silence.

“You know, Yuanzhi,” he said, glancing over, “There was no need to frighten them like that.”

Yuanzhi shot him a flat, unimpressed look. “If they are frightened by a simple conversation, then they should not be here in the first place.”

Behind them, Shangjue smothered a laugh, lifting a hand to pat Yuanzhi’s shoulder as they walked.

“You could try acting like a normal person in front of them,” he told his brother lightly.

“But I am being normal,” Yuanzhi replied, without hesitation.

Ziyu raised a brow at that, clearly unconvinced.“You left them with a smile that looked like a threat. I think two of them nearly fainted.”

“I was warning them,” Yuanzhi answered simply. “That is all.” His tone remained even, untouched by Ziyu’s remark, as if there were nothing worth correcting. “Look, if they frighten that easily, then it is better they learn it now. This is not a place that will accommodate them.” He glanced ahead, his expression unchanged. “I did not exaggerate anything. The conditions here are what they are, and if they cannot endure them, then they should not remain under the illusion that they can.”

Ziyu seemed ready to argue further, but Shangjue stepped in before it could continue. His movement was subtle, just enough to place himself between them without making it a confrontation, his presence quiet but firm.

“There is no need,” Shangjue said, his tone even as his gaze turned briefly toward Ziyu. “They needed to hear the reality of what life here will be like, and the dangers that come with it.” A pause followed, slight but deliberate, before his eyes shifted to Yuanzhi.

“But perhaps… keep the more unsettling expressions for another time.”

Yuanzhi said nothing to that, though the faintest hint of color touched the tips of his ears. He gave a single nod, brief and restrained, before continuing forward as if nothing further needed to be said.

Shangjue let a few steps pass before breaking the silence, his tone shifting, lighter now. “So,” he said, casting a brief glance at Yuanzhi, “has anyone caught your attention?”

Yuanzhi did not hesitate. “No signs yet,” he said, his tone even, almost dismissive. “But it’s there. I can feel it. Wufeng would not pass up an opportunity like this.” His gaze remained fixed ahead, distant in a way that suggested his attention had already moved past the conversation, sorting through details, patterns, possibilities. “One of them is a spy.”

Shangjue let out a quiet breath, the sound edged with something close to exasperation, though it did not fully reach his expression, and cast a brief glance toward Yuanzhi before giving a small shake of his head. “That is not what I meant, Yuanzhi.” he said, more plainly this time, his gaze settling on him for a moment before he added, with a faint shift in tone, “Are any of the girls to your liking?”

Yuanzhi scoffed at once, the sound quiet but sharp. For a brief second, the image of the girl at the far end of the line slipped into his mind, the one who had held his gaze just a fraction longer than the others, before he pushed the thought aside as quickly as it came. He answered without hesitation.“Ge, with Wufeng spies potentially among them, I have more important things to concern myself with than looks,” he said, his tone edged, more defensive than he likely intended.

Shangjue’s expression hardened slightly, the trace of ease leaving his features as his patience began to wear thin. The Sword Wielder, for once, chose not to add anything.

“When Ziyu and I went through our selections we had our own concerns with Wufeng. That did not stop us from looking for a suitable match. You should take this more seriously.”

Yuanzhi’s jaw tightened slightly.

Did they think he wasn’t?

Yuanzhi’s expression tightened, the shift immediate, his irritation no longer subtle. “I know what is expected of me,” he said, the words controlled, though the edge beneath them was unmistakable. “And I will fulfill it…But Wufeng is not something I can set aside either.”

Ahead of them, the Sword Wielder slowed, then came to a stop, turning back toward them. The sudden halt drew the others to a pause as well to not crash into him.

“I know this was sudden for you, and that you were not expecting to be pushed into marriage so soon,” Ziyu said, his tone measured. “And we understand what you’re saying. We’re not telling you to ignore the possibility of a Wufeng spy. If there is one, we will deal with it.” His gaze held steady on Yuanzhi.“But when we asked what you thought of the girls, your first instinct was to look for a threat… You didn’t even look at them for what they are here for, for the reason they were brought here in the first place.”

Yuanzhi did not answer. His gaze dropped slightly, not quite meeting Ziyu’s, his expression tighter than before, as if the words had settled somewhere he would rather not examine.

Ziyu noticed, folding his arms loosely across his chest before continuing anyway, his tone steady but no longer as pointed. “They were brought here for you,” he said. “For you to find a suitable wife. Someone who will match you, who will remain here, at your side.”

He paused only briefly before going on, more grounded now than before. “She will spend her life here with you. She will be the mother of your children.” The weight of it was not forced, but it was there all the same. “I know this feels like a lot,” he added, quieter now, “but we want you to make the best choice you can.”

Yuanzhi blinked once, then again, a little too quickly, before swallowing, his jaw tightening as the truth of it settled in. Over the past two weeks, his focus had been elsewhere, fixed on the arrival of Wufeng spies, on preparation, on anticipating threats, patterns, possibilities. Not what it meant to take a wife. Not what it meant to share his life with someone, to have that presence remain, constant and unchanging. The thought had been there, acknowledged in passing, but never truly faced.

Shangjue stepped closer, the edge from earlier no longer as pronounced, and rested a hand briefly on Yuanzhi’s shoulder, the gesture steady and familiar, more grounding than firm. “You don’t have to trust them,” he said. “Not yet. But you should at least give it a chance. Look at them for what they are, not just what they might be.”

Yuanzhi exhaled quietly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. He gave a small nod, the movement restrained but sincere. “I understand,” he said, his voice steadier now. “I’ll… try to look at it differently.” He paused briefly. “But don’t expect me to act sweet with them.”

The Sword Wielder let out a quiet laugh, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly.

“That’s a start.”

Beside them, Gong Shangjue gave a small approving nod, his tone calm but firm. “Remember, you’re not alone in this,” he said. “If Wufeng has truly sent someone, we will find them together.”

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

It is a dangerous thing, to be drawn to something you should fear.

She would learn that soon enough.

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

The morning had begun like any other.

Soft light filtered through the paper windows, stretching across the floor in thin lines. The household stirred slowly, servants moving through familiar routines, the quiet clink of porcelain and hushed footsteps blending into something almost comforting.

Y/N sat in her room by the window, her fingers tracing idle patterns along the edge of the page, her gaze lingering more on the light than the words before her. Her thoughts drifted, as they often did, to the stories she read.

She had always envied the people within them.Not for their strength, or the worlds they lived in, filled with magic and impossible things, but for something far simpler.

They had somewhere to go.

A purpose that felt like their own, even when it wasn’t. Even when it was forced upon them, they still moved forward, chasing something that felt real, meaningful and alive. Along the way, they found people. Friends.

That, more than anything, was what she envied most.

She turned the page slowly, though she had already read the same line twice without truly seeing it. The main character stood at the edge of another journey, surrounded by people who trusted him, who laughed with him, who chose to stay.

She tried to imagine what that felt like.

To know someone, not through obligation or careful politeness, but through honesty. To ask how their day had been and expect a real answer. To share something small, something meaningless, and have it matter simply because it was shared.

To recommend a favorite book…

Her fingers stilled against the page.

This one… The very one resting in her hands. It was her favourite.

A faint smile touched her lips before fading just as quickly, replaced by something quieter, more cautious.

Her father wouldn’t approve.

He did not believe in reading for enjoyment, only for purpose. Education, discipline, power…Those were the only things worth time and attention. Stories like this were distractions, useless at best, dangerous at worst.

And yet, she kept it.

Hidden. Protected.

Her small rebellion.

A soft knock broke the silence.

Y/N stilled, her reaction immediate as she closed the book and slipped it out of sight beneath the folded fabric at her side, just as the door slid open.

“Jiejie?”

Her little brother, Haoyu, stepped in without waiting, already smiling, his presence filling the room in a way that softened something in her chest almost instantly.

She looked up at him, and for a moment, everything else faded.

“Were you reading again?” he asked, eyes already drifting around the room as if he might catch her in the act, though there was no real accusation behind it, only curiosity.

“Maybe,” she replied, her tone calm, a hint of amusement slipping through.

He grinned, unfazed. “You’re going to get in trouble one day.”

“I’m always in trouble.” she said lightly.

That earned a short laugh from him, light and unguarded, and she found herself noticing the small gap where his tooth had fallen out, a detail that only made him look more endearing. He was only six, growing far too quickly already. If only their mother could have seen him now…

Their mother had died only hours after bringing him into the world. After Y/N was born, her father had been determined to have a male heir, and her mother had endured loss after loss, each one quietly erased. When she finally carried Haoyu to term, she had been careful, so careful, until the very end… until her body gave out, unable to survive what had been demanded of it.

Her father carried on without her, his goal achieved. He had mourned, briefly and without disruption, before returning to what had always mattered most. His work never paused for long.

With a successor secured, his focus only sharpened. While Y/N remained in the household, helping the servants care for her infant brother, her father’s attention turned fully back to the battlefield.

He had always been capable, but it was when his strategy during the war of the three kingdoms succeeded, trapping enemy troops along the river and cutting off their escape, that everything changed. The victory shifted the course of the war, and with it, his position rose. From then on, his name carried weight, his authority expanding, his ambitions growing far beyond what they had once been.

To anyone outside, he was a man worthy of admiration. A general whose decisions had saved countless lives, whose strategies had shaped the outcome of war itself. People spoke of him as a man of honor and compassion, someone who cared deeply for his people, who carried his responsibilities with quiet devotion. They said he had a good heart, that his intentions were always just. His loyalty was unquestioned, his achievements spoken of with respect, sometimes even reverence.

He was not undeserving of it…

They admired him not only for his victories, but for the life he seemed to lead beyond them. A widower who had endured loss and still stood unshaken. A father who managed his household with discipline and grace, raising children who were well-behaved, composed, a reflection of his strength. To many, he was proof that one could endure anything and still rise above it.

He had done much for the people, and Y/N respected that. Without him, they would not be where they were now. But the man praised beyond these walls was not the one she knew at home.

At home, there were no victories. No praise. No room for error. He was strict, as one might expect from a man of his standing, but there was nothing measured about it. Discipline was not unfamiliar to her. She understood what was expected, how one should behave as the daughter of a man like him.

Composure, precision, restraint… these were things she had learned early, things that had long since become second nature. Not out of pride, but necessity. Because with him, there was no warning. No way to predict when displeasure would turn into something sharper. A word said wrong, a step taken out of line… and the consequences followed. She was not unfamiliar with violence…

So she did everything as she should.

She spoke carefully. She carried herself properly. She remembered every poem, every lesson, every detail placed before her… And still, there was always something…always a correction, always a remark, something that could be improved, refined, done better.

The same for her brother.

Her gaze flickered toward him again, quieter now. Haoyu still smiled easily, still spoke without thinking too much, carrying a lightness that had not yet been taken from him, the kind that belonged only to someone his age… and yet she could already see it beginning to settle in… How he went still when voices lifted, in the subtle tension that crossed his shoulders when a hand moved too suddenly…

His eyes would lift toward their father at times, lingering just a moment too long, searching without fully understanding, waiting for approval that would never be given, and she knew, with a certainty that sat heavy in her chest, that he would keep waiting…

Because she had once done the same.

She feared that one day, he would begin to feel it too, that quiet, persistent sense that no matter how carefully he tried, no matter how perfectly he followed every expectation, it would never be enough. That he would start to measure himself against a standard he could never reach, the way she had learned to.

She pushed the thought aside before it could settle too deeply, softening her expression as she looked at her brother again.

“So,” she asked gently, a small smile touching her lips, “what did you come in for? Do you need me for something?”

He hesitated for the briefest moment, and the lightness in his expression shifted, not disappearing, but quieting.

“Father sent me to get you,” Haoyu said, more careful now. “He’s in his office.”

She went still. The smile on her lips remained, but it no longer reached her eyes.

“I see,” she said softly, steady enough.

Then, gentler, as if nothing had changed, “Why don’t you go practice your writing in your room? I’ll come find you later.”

He nodded, slow and obedient.

As she rose, she reached out and patted his head lightly, her touch brief but careful, something warm in the gesture. “Come on.”

They stepped out of the room together.

At the threshold, their paths split without needing to be spoken. He turned toward his room, though not without glancing back at her once. She did not.

Her steps carried her forward, steady and composed, her gaze fixed ahead as she made her way toward their father’s office.By the time she reached the door, nothing remained on her face but composure.

She stopped just short of it. “Father?” she called softly.

Silence followed.

A second passed.

Then another.

“…Enter.” The voice came from within, measured and firm.

She slid the door open and stepped inside, lowering her gaze as she crossed the threshold.

The room was arranged with deliberate order. It was lined with shelves filled with texts on war, governance, and trade, their spines worn from use rather than display. Along one wall, his medals were set with quiet precision, each one marking a victory that had shaped his name into what it was now.

Her father sat behind his desk, writing on a piece of parchment.

He was a middle-aged man, his beard neatly kept, though there were signs of fatigue in the slight heaviness around his eyes, the kind that came from long nights and longer responsibilities. It did little to soften him. If anything, it made him seem more unyielding, a presence that filled the room without needing to raise his voice.

She stopped at the proper distance and bowed her head.

“You sent for me.”

The faint scratch of his brush continued for a moment longer, as if her words had not reached him. Then, without haste, he set it down.

His gaze lifted to her.

He said nothing at first, only looked, the silence itself carrying enough weight to demand stillness. Then he reached for something on the desk and lifted it.

A letter.

Black.

The seal had already been broken.

He turned it slightly, just enough for her to see. “Do you know what this is?”

Of course she did. The emblem pressed into the wax was unmistakable.

The Gong clan.

A name that carried its own kind of authority, respected not only for their martial strength, but for what lay beyond it. Their knowledge extended into weapons and armor, into poisons and medicine, into things most did not speak of openly, but relied on nonetheless.

Her father had dealt with them for years.

They supplied him with weapons and armor, provided medicines and remedies for his troops, and crafted poisons suited for war and strategy alike. In return, he provided men, protection, and access to routes and resources only someone in his position could secure.

An exchange built on mutual advantage.

“Yes, Father. The Gong family.” A brief pause settled between them before she lifted her eyes, just enough to look at him properly. “Will you be leaving soon?” she asked carefully.

A letter from the Gong clan rarely arrived without reason. It usually meant movement. Preparations. Another campaign, perhaps. Another conflict taking shape. If they had written, it was likely to coordinate, to align their efforts as they had done many times before.

Another time he would be gone. The thought should not have brought relief…. And yet, it did.

“No,” he said, the word firm and unhurried. “There is no war beginning, if that is what you are thinking.” His fingers unfolded the letter, smoothing it out with quiet precision. Something shifted in his expression then, subtle, almost imperceptible. Not quite a smile, but close enough to unsettle.

“It is… a more favorable matter.”

Y/N did not move, but the confusion was clear on her face, her brows drawing together ever so slightly as she searched for meaning in his words.

“If I had known…” he began, his voice low, almost thoughtful, a quiet, humorless chuckle slipping through, “that having a girl could prove useful one day...”

Y/N felt her heartbeat falter, then quicken, a cold unease creeping through her chest as her fingers curled slightly at her sides, the stillness she held growing harder to maintain.

“Congratulations, my daughter,” he said, the formality of it sitting wrong, almost mocking. “You have been selected to participate in the bride selection of the Gong family.”

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

Yuanzhi had always enjoyed the scent of incense, the slow, deliberate way it burned, the quiet promise that what lingered in the air could just as easily comfort as it could choke.

In the main hall, the smoke rose in thin, steady lines, undisturbed in the stillness. The space was quiet, ordered, every detail in place beneath the elders’ watch.

He stood beside his brother, Gong Shangjue, hands folded neatly at his back, his posture precise and controlled. On the other side, Gong Ziyu remained still, composed as ever.

The three of them stood in line, waiting.

He did not know why they had been summoned so early. He preferred to spend his mornings outside, gathering plants while the dew still clung to their leaves, when their properties were at their most potent… and, if mishandled, at their most unforgiving.

At last, Elder Qin cleared his throat.

The sound alone drew the room into sharper attention. Among the three elders, he was one of the most respected, not for power alone, but for the weight of his judgment. The elders of the Gong clan were not merely figures of authority, but keepers of its direction, men who had seen enough to guide and endured enough to be listened to. Their role was to advise Gong Ziyu, the Sword Wielder and leader of the entire Gong family, shaping decisions so they would benefit the clan as a whole.

“We thank you for your presence this morning,” Elder Qin began, his voice low and steady, carrying easily through the hall. “There are matters that must be addressed.”

He paused briefly, his gaze sweeping over them.

“First, it is only right to acknowledge what has already been achieved. It has been five years since the previous bride selection, and the Gong bloodline continues to grow. The recent birth of an heir is a fortunate development.”

Shangjue’s household had welcomed a child not long after the last selection, efficient, expected. His wife, Qian, had given birth to a daughter. His niece was almost five and already proving to be far more troublesome than she should be, quick to wander, quicker to notice, with a curiosity that rarely led to anything quiet.

And now Ziyu as well.

Just last week, he had a son, securing the Gong line and the next Sword Wielder of the family. The child had been born strong, his cries steady, a full head of jet-black hair already marking him unmistakably as Gong.

“However,” Elder Qin continued, “our clan still faces enemies, and our allies expect stability. The Gong bloodline must not only continue… it must be secured.” A brief pause followed. “The birth of an heir is a beginning, not a guarantee. One branch alone cannot sustain the weight of this clan, nor answer the expectations placed upon it.” His gaze shifted, measured. “The line must be strengthened, extended, and protected from all uncertainty. What has been achieved is commendable… but it is not yet sufficient.”

A brief silence followed, the weight of Elder Qin’s words settling across the hall.

Then his brother stepped forward, the movement controlled, deliberate. Shangjue bowed his head slightly, just enough to show respect. “I did not wish to draw attention away from the birth of a new heir,” he said, his voice calm and measured, “so we waited until it was certain but…Qian, is expecting again.”

A faint smile touched Yuanzhi’s lips, quieter but more genuine than one might expect from him. The news settled easily, without resistance.

He had not always thought well of Qian.

When she first arrived, he had watched her with quiet suspicion, certain there was more beneath the surface than she allowed others to see. A spy from Wufeng, most likely. He had been almost certain of it…

But she had proven him wrong.

Not through grand gestures or carefully chosen words, but in the small, steady ways that could not be faked. In the way she carried herself within the household, in the way she stood beside his brother without hesitation, in the quiet consistency of her actions over time.

Now, Qian was not only part of the Gong household, but an undeniable part of its strength.

Ziyu stepped forward without hesitation, his expression brightening openly, the happiness clear on his face. He placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, smiling without restraint. “ This is wonderful news, Shangjue.” he said, his voice warm and sincere.

The elders nodded in approval. Among them, Elder Ren, the eldest of the three Elders, inclined his head slightly, his voice slower with age yet no less firm.

“It is indeed a fortunate development,” he said. “We will offer prayers for your wife’s well-being throughout her pregnancy.” Shangjue bowed his head in gratitude.

Yuanzhi let the silence stretch only a moment longer before he spoke, his tone respectful, though edged with quiet impatience.

“If that is the case,” he said, inclining his head slightly toward the elders, “then the matter seems… well in hand. My brother’s household grows, and the heir has been secured.” His gaze lifted just enough. “Is there anything further, or may we be dismissed?”

Elder Qin did not answer immediately, his gaze settling directly on Yuanzhi.

“We did not raise this matter for Shangjue or Ziyu alone,” he said at last, his tone even. “It concerns you as well.”

For a brief moment, Yuanzhi remained still, offering no response, though his attention sharpened. His gaze shifted, almost instinctively, toward Shangjue, searching without seeming to. He did not need an explanation. The look on his brother’s face was enough, calm, unsurprised… and faintly amused, the slightest curve at the corner of his lips as if Yuanzhi’s momentary stillness had not gone unnoticed.

Understanding settled in quietly.

Yuanzhi’s eyes narrowed just slightly. “What do you mean?”

It was not the elders who answered.

His brother turned to him, his tone steady, almost casual. “I think they mean that you’ve come of age,” he said. “And that it’s time you begin your own household.”

The words landed harder than they should have. A flicker of irritation rose, sharp and immediate, catching him off guard. He had not expected this, had not prepared for it, and the thought of being pushed toward something so final, so binding, unsettled him more than he would ever allow to show.

Across from him, Ziyu shifted slightly, his gaze dropping for a brief moment, as if avoiding Yuanzhi’s eyes, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Yuanzhi inclined his head toward the Elders, his tone respectful but edged with restraint. “I am refining the most potent poison I have created to date,” he said, voice calm and precise. “And developing its remedy. It demands absolute focus. A marriage would only interfere with that.”

Elder Ren waved a hand, unconcerned. “Nonsense. A husband can work and be married.”

Yuanzhi raised a brow, his voice cool. “Or work better without someone disrupting his work.”

Ziyu coughed lightly to hide a laugh. His brother Shangjue did not bother hiding his amused smirk.

“Enough. This is not up for discussion,” Elder Qin said calmly. “You knew this day would come. This is your responsibility to this family.”

Before Yuanzhi could respond, Elder Ren spoke, his tone firm and leaving little room for objection. “The letters have already been sent to some of the Gong clan’s most trusted allies. Suitable candidates have been selected. They will arrive within two weeks.”

Yuanzhi’s jaw tightened, the tension finally showing, if only slightly. “It seems my future has already been decided, then.”

“Yuanzhi.” Elder Meng spoke for the first time since the beginning of the meeting, his voice gentler than the others, carrying a quiet warmth that softened his words without lessening their weight. “I understand this is sudden for you, but there have been increasing attacks from Wufeng this past year. Our allies look to us for stability. The Gong bloodline must be secured at all costs.”

“You are not a child anymore,” Elder Ren added, Yuanzhi felt the corners of his mouth twitch in faint annoyance. They always used that line when they were about to push him into something he had not agreed to. “ A man must take responsibility and fulfill his duty.”

Shangjue spoke then, his voice steady, cutting cleanly through the tension. “My brother is not refusing his duty. He simply wants more time.”

“That is precisely what we do not have,” Elder Ren said, his voice steady. “Time.”

His gaze settled directly on Yuanzhi as he continued.

“May I remind you that you have already been granted more years than most. Others would have been bound to duty the moment they came of age. You were allowed otherwise… for a time.” A brief pause. “But now it’s time.”

Yuanzhi said nothing. He bit down on his tongue, forcing back the response that rose too quickly to be spoken. The words pressed in, unwelcome, but not untrue. He had been given more time. Time to work, to refine, to move without restraint or expectation beyond his craft. They could have bound him to duty years ago…

“The clan is rebuilding,” Elder Ren continued. “Shangjue’s household grows and the Sword Wielder has secured an heir.” At the mention of his newborn, Ziyu’s expression softened, a quiet, unmistakable pride settling across his face. Elder Ren’s attention remained fixed on Yuanzhi. “But that does not address what is lacking in your line.”

A low hum of agreement followed.

Elder Qin spoke next, calm and decisive. “Your work, your knowledge of poison… it cannot be left without a successor.”

Yuanzhi did not answer immediately. The words settled into place whether he welcomed them or not, leaving little room for argument. He had already tested every possible objection in his mind, and none of them held against what was expected of him.

Slowly, he drew in a breath.

Then stepped forward.

His hands came together before him, the gesture precise, practiced, as he bowed his head just enough to show respect.

“I understand,” he said at last, his voice even.

Acknowledgment.

Acceptance.

Not willingness.

But duty, all the same

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

The carriage came to a slow stop.

Y/N felt it before she heard it, the shift in movement, the subtle pull as the horses stilled. Outside, there was no chatter, no welcome, no sound of arrival that one might expect from a place receiving guests.

Only silence.

Her fingers tightened slightly in her lap beneath the folds of red silk.

She had not seen the road that brought her here.

From the moment she stepped into the carriage, the veil had been lowered, thick enough to blur the world into nothing more than shapes and shadows. She had caught glimpses, fleeting and uncertain, the outline of trees, the rise of distant mountains, the passing of gates she could not name.

No one spoke to her and no one answered when she tried. Instructions had been given only once.

Do not remove the veil.

Do not ask questions.

Do not cause trouble.

Her father’s voice lingered far louder than any of them, sharp and inescapable.

You will behave as expected. For your brother’s sake…

Her breath caught, just for a moment. Even now, the words settled heavier than anything else.

Her little brother. Haoyu.

The last time she saw him, he had stood in the doorway of her room, too quiet for a child his age, watching as she prepared to leave. She had knelt in front of him, smoothing down his sleeves, memorizing the small details she feared she would forget.

A tear had slipped down his cheek.

She had wiped it away gently with her thumb.

“Listen to the nanny,” she had told him softly. “Eat your meals, even if you don’t feel like it.”

He had nodded.

Too quickly.

“Try not to anger Father,” she added, her voice quieter now, her hand lingering against his face. “Stay kind. Don’t let him take that from you.”

His eyes had filled again, but he stayed silent.

“I’ll come back,” she had whispered, even if she did not know if it was true. “I promise.” She had left before he could ask when.

The memory lingered longer than she wanted it to, clinging stubbornly where she could not quite reach it. Y/N shook her head slightly, as if she could push it away before it settled too deeply. It would do no good to hold onto it now, not when it only made her chest tighten and her thoughts stray where they shouldn’t.

She forced herself to focus elsewhere, grasping for something steadier, something distant from the weight of it all.

The stories she used to read came to mind, quiet evenings spent turning pages beneath dim light, following heroes who never hesitated, who stepped into uncertainty as if it were nothing. They always knew what to do. They always found a way through.

She wondered what they would do in her place.

The sharp sound of the carriage door sliding open pulled her back to the present.

Cool air slipped inside, brushing against her face, carrying with it a faint scent she could not quite place. Clean. Sharp. Almost bitter.

“Step down.”

Y/N released a quiet breath she had not realized she was holding and carefully lowered herself out of the carriage, her movements slow, measured beneath the weight of the veil.

She was not given time to look around.

A hand gestured forward.

“Move.”

She obeyed.

The world remained blurred through the red veil, but she caught glimpses of movement ahead, the faint glimmer of water, and the soft creak of wood shifting against it. A small boat waited at the edge.

From the corner of her eye, she could make out other girls dressed in red like her, each being guided in silence toward their own boats.

Y/N stepped in carefully, steadying herself as the boat shifted beneath her weight.

The journey across was quiet, the soft rhythm of water against wood the only thing breaking the stillness. Night had settled fully around them, the world dim and indistinct beneath her veil, save for the faint glow of lanterns placed along the path ahead. Their light flickered gently, guiding the way across the dark water.

She could not see far, only the outline of something ahead, growing clearer, larger, with each passing moment.

By the time the boat came to a stop, her fingers had curled slightly into the fabric of her dress, the tension settling into her without her noticing. When instructed, she stepped off carefully, her footing steady despite the unease that had begun to take hold.

And then she saw them.

The gates stood before her, tall and imposing, closed as if guarding something that did not wish to be entered.

For a moment, she simply stared.

Then the realization settled in.

Behind those doors stood the most dangerous martial arts family known across the land.

And she was terrified.

Hands guided them forward, quiet but firm, gathering the girls together, arranging them into a line before the gates. Red sleeves brushed against one another, soft fabric shifting as they were positioned side by side, indistinguishable beneath their veils.

Y/N drew in a slow breath.

Her father’s voice rose in her mind, sharp and controlled, as it always was. Usually unwelcome. Usually something she tried to push away.

But not now.

Now, it steadied her.

Do not let it show. No matter what you feel.

Control your breathing. Slow. Even.

Do not let your heart betray you.

Fear is a weakness when seen.

She straightened slightly, forcing her shoulders to relax, steadying the rhythm of her breath as best she could. The pounding in her chest did not disappear, but it softened, buried beneath the discipline he had forced into her since childhood.

The gates began to open slowly, deliberately, the heavy grind of metal echoing through the night as if the place itself resisted what entered it. Lantern light flickered along the path beyond, revealing only fragments of what lay ahead, never enough to feel certain.

At a silent signal from the guards, the line shifted. Hands gestured forward, firm but restrained, and the women began to move. Y/N stepped with them, her pace measured and as steady as she could.

No one spoke, but the silence was not calm. It carried something tighter, sharper. She could almost taste it, the nerves, the unease spreading quietly through the line. A slight hitch in someone’s breath. The faint tremble of fabric as sleeves brushed too quickly. Not all of them wanted to be here.

She wondered, for a moment, if they were afraid for the same reason she was, if they had heard the rumors about the man they had been brought here for.

Of course they had. How could they not?

Gong Yuanzhi. The Poison Master.

She knew of him through what reached her father, through the quiet exchanges of information that were never meant for her, yet never fully hidden either. The poisons he created were said to be especially ruthless, feared not only for their effect, but for the way they left no mercy behind. His knowledge went further than that, into medicine, into weaponry, into things most would not dare study so closely. There was something unsettling in that alone, a mind that did not stop where others would.

And then there were the rumors, darker ones, spoken with a certain hesitation. That he tested his creations on those unfortunate enough to fall into his hands. That he did not turn away from the pain they caused, but observed it closely, almost attentively, as if measuring it, learning from it. That there was a certain fascination in the way his poisons took hold, in how far they could go, how much they could do, what could be refined further. That he was… different, in ways even his own family did not fully restrain.

The thought sent a chill down Y/N’s spine.

She kept her gaze lowered, her steps even, her breathing carefully controlled as she and the other girls were led forward, past the gates and into a place she knew, with quiet certainty, would be anything but safe.

Above them, hidden from sight, two figures stood in the shadows overlooking the entrance, their presence masked by height and darkness as their attention remained fixed on the line of women below.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Yuanzhi’s attention lingered below, sharp and calculating as the line of veiled women in red passed through the gates. “It will be like last time,” he murmured quietly. “How many Wufeng spies do you think have made their way into this selection?”

Beside him, Shangjue stood unmoving, his focus steady, taking in the scene without haste, as if already measuring what could not yet be seen. He gave a slight shrug, not careless, but considered.

“I don’t know…one… maybe two.”

Yuanzhi exhaled softly, his voice lowering. “It’s a dangerous game. Inviting potential spies onto our grounds now of all times.” His gaze narrowed slightly, tension settling beneath the surface. “Ziyu’s heir was just born. Qian is expecting again. And we bring them here…”

Shangjue turned his head slightly, his gaze settling on Yuanzhi before he spoke, as if weighing his words rather than dismissing them outright. “There will always be a threat,” he said at last, his tone even, grounded in certainty rather than reassurance. “If not now, then later. If not here, then elsewhere. Waiting will not make it safer.”

He let the words settle for a moment before continuing, his voice quieter but no less firm.

“They will remain in the outer residence, separate from the main household. It keeps a distance where it matters.” Shangjue lifted a hand and rested it briefly on Yuanzhi’s shoulder. “I will ensure our family is protected,” he added. “And Ziyu’s child will be guarded just the same.”

Yuanzhi exhaled slowly, his shoulders tightening as he folded his arms across his chest. “I still don’t like it,” he said, the words quieter now. “How am I supposed to trust any of them, knowing one could be from Wufeng?”

His older brother watched him for a moment, taking in the restrained frustration he did not bother to hide. There was no mockery in his expression this time, only a measured understanding. “You’re not the first to face it,” he said evenly. “Ziyu and I both stood where you are now. We chose from the same uncertainty, and yet… it did not lead to ruin.”

Yuanzhi met his gaze and held it, silent but unyielding.

Shangjue continued, quieter now, but no less firm. “You don’t need to trust her completely,” he said. “And you don’t need to love her. What matters is that she can stand where she is placed, fulfill her role, and give the Gong family what it needs.”

A faint breeze stirred through the open space, brushing past them and lifting a few loose strands of Yuanzhi’s hair across his face. He did not move to push them away, the sensation barely registering against the weight of his thoughts.

He had spent the past two weeks trying to come to terms with it, turning the idea over in his mind until it should have felt familiar, manageable, no different from any other responsibility placed upon him. He had approached it the only way he knew how, by breaking it down, by preparing for every possible outcome, by convincing himself that it was simply another matter to be handled.

And yet, seeing it unfold before him now, it still felt unreal. Too abrupt. Too imposed.

The days following the council had not been spent resisting. He had returned to the elders, not to refuse, but to reshape what he could. It had taken time, patience, and a careful choice of words, but in the end, he had secured what mattered.

They would allow him full authority over the selection. He would design the tests himself and question the candidates as he saw fit, leaving nothing to chance or tradition alone.

Shangjue’s expression shifted then, just slightly, the tension easing at the edges as a hint of amusement surfaced. “It would also help,” he added, almost casually, “if you chose a pretty one. For the sake of the lineage.”

Yuanzhi clicked his tongue, the sound sharp against the quiet. “Ge,” he said, a trace of disbelief slipping through despite himself, “this is hardly the moment.”

The brief exchange did little to change the situation, but it softened it, if only by a fraction.

As the gates closed behind the last bride, the heavy sound echoing through the night, Yuanzhi’s gaze lingered a moment longer before lowering slightly, his thoughts already moving ahead.

If there were spies among them, he would find them.

And killed them.

˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖ ˖᯽ ݁˖

WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW ABOUT THE WORLD

The story takes place in a hidden world where powerful martial arts families live in secrecy. Among them, the Gong family is one of the most influential, known not only for their strength in combat, but also for their mastery of poison and medicine. Because of their power, they have many enemies. Some seek to destroy them from within, sending agents who hide their true identities and infiltrate the family. The most dangerous of these enemies is Wufeng, a secret assassin organization that trains spies and killers.

One important event in the Gong family is the bride selection. Women are chosen to marry into the family to help secure its future, but not everyone is who they seem to be, and trust is not easy to give.

In the original story, two spies from Wufeng manage to infiltrate the Gong family, but they are discovered and have to escape. In this version, they choose to stay because they fall in love with the men they were meant to deceive. No one knows their true identity. In my fanfiction, I build a love story around the third Gong heir, Gong Yuanzhi, who did not have a love interest in the original story.

CHARACTERS

GONG YUANZHI —

“I don’t need to be kind. I just need to be right.”

Now of age, Gong Yuanzhi is expected to take part in the bride selection, as it is his duty to marry and also continue the Gong family line. Known for his skill with poison and medicine, he is sharp-witted and difficult to read. He trusts very few and is rumored to be ruthless, with a reputation that makes others uneasy around him.

GONG SHANGJUE —

Yuanzhi’s older brother. He is known for his strength and strict nature. Yuanzhi looks up to him, trusts him completely, and wants his approval above all. There is an unspoken understanding between them. Yuanzhi can read Shangjue’s moods instantly, and Shangjue understands Yuanzhi’s intentions even when he acts impulsively. They do not show affection openly, but their actions prove it. They stand by each other, defend each other, and consistently choose each other when it matters most.

SHANGGUAN QIAN —

She is Shangjue’s wife. She was once sent to infiltrate the Gong family as a spy. In My Journey to You, Yuanzhi starts off very suspicious of Shangguan's intention. His suspicion slowly weakens as he observes her actions and realizes she truly cares for his brother. Gong Yuanzhi has grown close to his sister-in-law, unaware of her past intentions. She has decided to stay with her lover and betray Wufeng (secret assassin organization.) No one knows her true identity (unlike the cdrama)

GONG ZIYU —

Gong Yuanzhi’ cousin. Gong Ziyu is the new Sword Wielder, which is the leader of the entire Gong family. At first, Yuanzhi did not trust Ziyu because he seemed too emotional and not careful enough in a dangerous family environment full of threats from Wufeng. Over time, as they faced the same dangers, Yuanzhi saw that Ziyu was actually loyal and brave in his own way. They begin to understand and cooperate with each other.

YUN WEISHAN —

Ziyu’s wife. She is also a former spy from Wufeng who entered the family under a hidden identity, but fell in love and decided to stay. ( unlike the cdrama ) Gong Yuanzhi has a complicated relationship with her, but still views her has extended family because of his cousin.

HAN Y/N —

Invited among many girls to take part in the bride selection. Y/N keeps to herself and avoids unnecessary attention. While others try to stand out, she remains in the background, quietly observing everything around her. She does not expect to be chosen. Others are better suited for a life within the Gong family and leaving her younger brother behind with their father has never truly been an option. The Gong residence is not a place one simply walks away from. If she wants to leave, she will have to play her cards carefully.