Li Chenwei awoke with a start, his chest heaving, heart racing as if he'd been running. Pale morning light filtered through his window, casting long shadows across his room, but it did nothing to dispel the unease gnawing at him. He tried to piece together fragments of the nightmare that had wrenched him awake, but they slipped through his grasp like sand. All he was left with was a terrible sense of dread—a feeling that something was already spiraling out of control.
He sat up, his skin damp with sweat, his fingers clenched tightly in his bedding. It was irrational, he told himself, but the thought rose in his mind, persistent and feverish: What if something happened while I slept?
The idea clawed at him, making his pulse quicken all over again. What if Wen has already set something in motion, and I've been lying here, doing nothing?
Without another thought, he threw on his robes, his hands shaking as he fastened his belt. He left his room quickly, his footsteps sharp in the stillness of the early morning. The air was crisp and biting, but Chenwei barely felt it as he moved through the quiet corridors and open courtyards of the sect.
He knew Wen's routine well by now. Mornings were often spent in the secluded gardens or practicing calligraphy in the quietest corners of the library. There was a methodical precision to Wen's days, a rhythm Chenwei had studied down to the smallest detail. Wen's routines were predictable, almost maddeningly so. And yet, every time Chenwei thought he had Wen's actions pinned down, there was a new twist, something just out of sight.
This morning, Wen was nowhere to be found.
Chenwei's heart beat faster as he checked the gardens, the library, the inner courtyard—all empty. Every place he looked was silent, the faint morning mist lingering like a veil over the empty spaces. He should be here, Chenwei thought, his mind knotting tighter with each step. Why isn't he here?
The sect compound felt oddly muted, quieter than usual, as if everyone else was waiting, too—waiting for something to happen. There should be whispers, he thought. There should be talk about the upcoming mission. He knew it was supposed to happen soon; in his memories, it had taken place under the same crisp autumn skies. But today, not even the faintest murmur passed through the courtyards. No hushed gossip, no cautious glances among the disciples. Nothing.
It didn't make sense. A mission like this, one that was supposed to be dangerous, should have sparked at least a few rumors. The silence unsettled him, feeding a rising sense of panic. What if I'm too late? The thought stabbed at him, relentless. His vigilance, his endless watching, felt like a taut thread ready to snap.
What if I just killed him? The thought came, sharp and sudden, a blade glinting in his mind. One decisive strike, and it would all be over. He could end this nightmare before it began.
Chenwei froze, horrified by his own impulse. No. The word felt weak, but he clung to it. Killing Wen like this… it was unthinkable. But then, as if in answer, his mind filled with the vision of the sect in ruins, the courtyards filled with bodies, the poisonous mists of the Glass Hell swirling around him.
But what if I fail? That was the question that stopped him, the fear that made his hands tremble. What if he tried to kill Wen and misjudged? There would be no second chances. And what about the sect oath—was it still binding in this altered timeline, or not? The uncertainty left him paralyzed.
As he stood there, lost in his tangled thoughts, a cheerful voice broke through the silence, bright and warm in the morning air.
"Junior Brother Li! Up so early? Out here chasing shadows again?"
Chenwei looked up, startled. Fourth Young Master Zhou Lianyi strolled toward him, his robes bright in the morning light, a playful smile on his lips. Lianyi's easy grace, his natural warmth, seemed to lift the weight of Chenwei's dark thoughts, even if only for a moment.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Lianyi teased, stopping a few paces away. "Or are you chasing one? Don't tell me you're still following Yuhan around like a shadow."
Chenwei straightened, trying to collect himself. "Where is Senior Brother Wen?" he asked, his voice sharper than he intended. He couldn't hide the urgency in his tone, and Lianyi's eyebrows lifted in mild surprise.
"You won't find him this morning," Lianyi replied, amusement glinting in his eyes. "Yuhan is with my father, having a private lesson. They're isolated and won't be seen until this evening—so you can stop lurking for once."
Chenwei bit down on the impulse to demand more details, struggling to rein in his frustration. Wen was with the sect master, isolated, unreachable. There was nothing he could do. Nothing I can do but wait, he thought bitterly.
Lianyi continued, his tone light and teasing. "You know, this stalking has gotten… well, let's say it's raised a few eyebrows. What exactly are your intentions here, Junior Brother Li? Are you planning to spend your life hiding in the bushes?"
Chenwei's face flushed, and he stammered, caught off guard. He couldn't deny it, couldn't explain himself, couldn't confirm the ridiculous rumors that he had some "interest" in Wen. His mouth tasted like poison, like the mists of the Glass Hell, and he found himself stumbling over his words.
"What about you, Fourth Young Master?" he managed, deflecting. "How close are you to Senior Brother Wen?"
Lianyi laughed, clearly amused by the question. "Ah, so that's what this is about." He gave Chenwei a sly smile. "Afraid I'm a rival for his attention, are you?"
Chenwei felt his cheeks burn with frustration, but Lianyi continued, oblivious to his discomfort. "No need to worry about me, Junior Brother Li. I have someone I'm fond of already. My fiancée." His smile softened, and for a moment, the usual playful edge in his expression vanished, replaced by something gentler, more sincere.
"She's… well, I think I'm the luckiest man in the sect," he said, his voice quiet, almost reverent. "She's sharp as a blade and stubborn as stone, and I think about her every day. It was an arranged match, but… I couldn't have asked for better."
Chenwei watched him, trying to ignore the strange ache in his own chest, the hint of envy he felt at Lianyi's easy warmth, his openness. Lianyi spoke with such confidence, such faith in his own happiness.
"So you see, Junior Brother Li," Lianyi continued, giving Chenwei a knowing smile, "my heart is otherwise occupied. You'll have to find someone else to rival for Yuhan's attention."
Chenwei's fingers tightened around the hilt of his sword. Another fool taken in by Wen's charms, he thought bitterly. Lianyi had no idea of the darkness lurking within his sworn brother. And yet, he couldn't deny the sincerity in Lianyi's voice, the genuine affection he seemed to hold for both Yuhan and his fiancée.
What will you think of him once he's betrayed you? Chenwei thought, a pang of anger twisting in his gut. He wanted to shake Lianyi, to warn him, but he knew it would be useless.
"I… only wish to understand him," Chenwei said, his voice low, trying to sound steady. "To know his intentions."
Lianyi looked at him for a long moment, his expression thoughtful, almost pitying. "Then talk to him," he said simply. "Watching from the shadows isn't going to get you anywhere." His eyes softened, and a slight smile touched his lips. "I think this… fixation of yours is starting to get to you, Junior Brother Li. You look a bit… unsteady. Perhaps it's time to let this go."
Chenwei clenched his jaw, fighting down the frustration bubbling inside him. "I am perfectly steady."
"If you say so," Lianyi replied, unconvinced. After a moment's pause, he added with a chuckle, "You know, there's an old story about a nobleman who fell in love with a forest spirit. She was beautiful beyond compare, like something out of a dream. Every morning, he would go to the woods just to watch her dance under the sunlight. But he never spoke to her, never dared approach. He convinced himself it was enough to simply… observe from afar."
Chenwei felt a prickle of discomfort, but he remained silent, waiting for the tale to unfold.
"One morning," Lianyi went on, "the nobleman saw a stranger in the forest. A young man, wandering under the trees, who stumbled upon the spirit by chance. And instead of disappearing, she welcomed him. She didn't shy away. She smiled, and he approached her without fear. The two of them danced together beneath the leaves, as if they'd known each other all their lives."
Chenwei felt a cold shiver down his spine as Lianyi continued.
"The nobleman was filled with jealousy and despair. After all those mornings spent watching her, yearning for her… he couldn't bear to see her with someone else. He'd convinced himself that she was his, even though he'd never spoken a word to her. In a fit of madness, he stepped forward and struck her down, thinking she'd betrayed him."
Chenwei's lips parted, and he felt a chill as Lianyi's voice dropped.
"But as she lay there, dying, she looked up at him and asked, 'Why?'" Lianyi's voice was soft, each word weighed with quiet intensity. "And in that moment, the nobleman realized… there had been no relationship at all. He had never even approached her, never crossed that distance. She had waited, patient and open, but he'd mistaken her kindness to a stranger as betrayal. And with her blood on his hands, he knew that he'd created this tragedy by his own fear."
Lianyi sighed, his expression distant. "The nobleman, overcome with regret, took his own life the next morning. But not before he understood that it was his own jealousy, his own possessiveness, that had destroyed everything."
Silence fell between them. Chenwei's pulse pounded as Lianyi's story settled into his mind, every word feeling like a small blade lodged in his chest.
Lianyi gave him a final, knowing smile. "So, Junior Brother Li, don't go falling in love with shadows. And don't let your imagination run away with you, either." He clapped Chenwei on the shoulder, and then turned, strolling away with an easy laugh.
Chenwei watched him go, rooted to the spot, haunted by the story Lianyi had told. The image of the nobleman, of his twisted obsession and his ruinous jealousy, lodged itself in Chenwei's mind like a dark seed. He could almost hear that question—"Why?"—echoing in his thoughts.
What if… what if I'm wrong about Wen? The question gnawed at him, unbidden, and he shook his head, trying to dispel it. No, he told himself fiercely. Wen is a monster. I know what he will become.
But Lianyi's story lingered, settling into his heart like an unwelcome thorn, a warning he could not ignore.
And in the depths of his mind, a voice whispered that he was the nobleman in the story—blind to the truth, until it was far too late.