One day later…
The palace was abuzz with whispers and speculation. In every hall, beneath every archway, servants and guards murmured in hushed tones about the mysterious water dragon that had appeared in the garden. The story had spread quickly: a creature made of liquid and mist, coiling and writhing before dissipating into the evening air. The tale had grown with each telling—some claimed it was an omen of doom, others said it was a sign from the heavens.
Within the inner chambers, Crown Imperial Prince Liang Fengxian (梁风贤) stood by the open window of his study, a scroll clenched tightly in his hand. The morning light streamed through the ornate latticework, casting intricate patterns on the polished floor. His face was composed, but his eyes were stormy. He had gone out the previous day, so he has some delayed work to catch up on.
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. "Enter," he called.
A young servant stepped inside, bowing low. "Your Highness," the servant began, keeping his eyes lowered, "General Wei Jian (卫剑) requests an audience."
Fengxian nodded. "Send him in."
Moments later, General Wei Jian entered, his footsteps firm, his expression serious. Dressed in a dark blue tunic with silver embroidery at the cuffs and collar, his long black hair was neatly tied back with a simple silver clasp. His gaze was steady as he saluted the prince.
"General Wei," Fengxian greeted, gesturing for him to sit. "What brings you here so early?"
Wei Jian sat but remained straight-backed, his face somber. "Your Highness, there is a matter of great concern. Last evening, a water dragon appeared in the garden. It… it attacked Lady Qin Yue."
Fengxian's grip tightened on the scroll. "Attacked?" His voice was sharp. "Is she hurt?"
"No, Your Highness," Wei Jian quickly reassured him. "Thanks to some quick thinking, she was unharmed. But…" he hesitated, his brows furrowing, "it is troubling. The dragon seemed to appear out of nowhere. Some say it was conjured by dark forces."
Fengxian's expression darkened. "A conjured water dragon… Here, within the palace walls? Who would dare?"
Wei Jian shook his head. "That is what I have come to discuss. The palace guards have seen nothing, and there is no sign of an intruder. Some believe it could be the work of the Order of the Jade Lotus (玉莲会), but we have no proof."
Fengxian paced to the window, staring out over the sprawling palace gardens. The image of Qin Yue—his wife, poised and elegant, her dark hair flowing like a midnight river—flashed before his mind. He felt a surge of protective anger. "I want a full investigation," he ordered. "Check every guard post, every entrance. We must not let this threat go unanswered."
Wei Jian nodded, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes. "Your Highness, there is… more. Some of the servants claim that the dragon seemed to respond to a presence… or perhaps a force already within the garden."
Fengxian turned sharply. "A force? You mean… someone from within the palace?"
Wei Jian hesitated. "It is only a rumor, Your Highness. But we cannot dismiss any possibility."
Fengxian's mind raced, his thoughts tangled. "Who was in the garden at the time?"
"Lady Qin Yue," Wei Jian replied, "and… her brother, Qin Yuan."
Fengxian felt a strange tension pull at his chest. "Qin Yuan?" he echoed, his tone thoughtful. "But he is a scholar, not a sorcerer."
"Indeed," Wei Jian agreed. "But it is said that sometimes, the most unassuming can hold the greatest mysteries."
Fengxian frowned, his mind spinning with possibilities. "Keep an eye on things," he instructed. "And make sure Lady Qin Yue is well protected. I will speak with her myself."
Meanwhile, in his own chambers, Qin Yuan (秦元) lay restless in bed. The room was quiet, yet his mind was filled with shadows and whispers. For nights now, he had been plagued by strange dreams—visions of places he had never been, voices calling out to him in languages he did not know.
In his dreams, he stood in a vast, starry void, surrounded by ethereal mist. Shapes moved in the darkness—sometimes a dragon, other times a fox with many tails, its eyes glowing with a strange, knowing light. The creatures spoke to him, their voices melodic and haunting, but the words were always just out of reach, like a whisper carried away by the wind.
Tonight, the dreams were more vivid. He saw a great forest, shrouded in mist, with a temple at its heart. He felt himself drawn toward it, his feet moving of their own accord. A soft, soothing voice echoed around him, calling his name. "Qin Yuan… Qin Yuan…"
He reached out, trying to touch the temple's gate, but as his fingers brushed the cool stone, a sudden rush of water surged up around him. He gasped, feeling the cold grip of the water on his skin, pulling him deeper into its depths.
He awoke with a start, his heart pounding in his chest, his breaths coming in quick, shallow gasps. His fingers were curled as if still reaching for the gate. He looked down and saw faint traces of moisture on his hands, as if they had just been submerged in water.
"What… what is happening to me?" he whispered into the dark, his voice trembling.
He felt an inexplicable pull, a deep, gnawing sense that something was calling to him, something he could not yet understand. He needed answers—but where would he find them?
Qin Yuan sat up, feeling the cool night air on his skin. He glanced around the room, half-expecting to see something lurking in the shadows. But there was nothing. Just the silence, and the faint sound of the wind outside.
He sighed, trying to calm his racing heart, but the unease lingered. He knew he needed to speak to his sister, but a deeper instinct told him that she might not have the answers he sought.
As he lay back down, closing his eyes, he felt the gentle touch of sleep return. Yet, the shadows of his dreams seemed to linger in the corners of the room, waiting, watching… as if they had a secret to tell.
"I feel alone."