At the Western Domain
Phoenix Empire
Fengxi City, Golden Roost Region
Princess Xue returned home with a shadow of gloom hanging over her. She hurried straight to her mother's room, where a servant had told her she'd be.
She reached the door and knocked gently.
"Mom. I want to speak with you," she said softly.
After a few breaths, "Come in," a majestic voice answered from the other side.
She took a breath, opened the door gently, and stepped inside.
Her mother sat in a chair,her beauty mature and striking enough to topple nations, her expression carved into stillness as she read from a book Xue couldn't quite make out.
"How was your stay at the Long Clan? I hope you were well received," she said, not once lifting her eyes from the page.
"They received me properly. Mom, I have something to ask you." Xue kept her hands folded in front of her, the way she'd been taught, though her fingers pressed a little too hard into each other.
"What's so urgent you couldn't wait to send word first?" Her mother's tone stayed level, unbothered.
"Mom. Someone told me that someone wants to harm me — and that person is within our own inner circle." The words came out slower than she meant them to, each one costing her something to say.
For the first time since Xue had entered, her mother's head lifted from the book — a beat of stillness, then something sharp flickered behind her eyes before smoothing back over.
"Mom. Is there something you're not telling me?" Xue's voice rose slightly, a tremor of heat under the words she was trying to keep controlled.
"There are things in this world that lie beyond even us, sometimes." Her mother's voice didn't change at all, which somehow made it worse.
"Then why not just tell me, Mother? Why did I have to hear it from an outsider?" The last word cracked slightly — not quite a shout, but close enough that it startled even her.
Her mother's eyebrow rose a fraction, the only sign she'd registered the tone at all. "Xue. Compose yourself."
"As for this assassination plot — I won't be intervening. My hands are tied at the moment. Your father is in seclusion, and I'm holding the fort in his place." She let out a breath through her nose, the closest thing to exhaustion she allowed herself to show.
"So you'd rather fold your arms and watch them kill me? I would have stayed completely in the dark if a seer hadn't told me my own fate." Xue's jaw was tight now, her eyes stinging in a way she refused to acknowledge.
"Who is this seer you're talking about?" A faint narrowing of her mother's eyes, curiosity sharpening into something closer to calculation. *Because the Long Clan wouldn't have simply let her meet with that elder.*
Xue's gaze dropped for half a second before she caught herself and lifted it again, chin set. "You don't need to know that, Mom."
"Xue. Don't push me. Don't tell me those people taught you to disrespect your elders." The temperature in the room seemed to drop with the words, though her mother hadn't raised her voice at all.
Xue said nothing, holding her mother's gaze though it cost her something to keep it steady.
After a long moment of silence passed which was uncomfortable for Xue, before something shifted in her mother's expression — understanding first, then a flicker of genuine alarm breaking through the composure.
"You met a woman of the mortal race, with Zaitian. And the two of you broke one of her nails, because of some request of his." Her mother's fingers had gone still on the book's spine.
"It wasn't our fault. We didn't know she was that unique." Heat crept up Xue's neck, the kind of embarrassment she'd hoped her mother wouldn't catch, though of course she had.
"Xue. Go to your room. I need my rest." The words landed flat, final, a door quietly closing.
"Okay, Mom." She left, shoulders a fraction lower than when she'd arrived.
Once alone, her mother set the book down slowly and spoke to the empty room. "So the fate in question really was about Zaitian's own ill omen. A mortal's finger doesn't just break from a simple divination about my daughter." She turned the thought over like a stone in her palm.
"Why did she hide the real reason from them, I wonder." A faint, humorless smile. "Not my concern anymore. Xue's old enough to handle herself."
"Assist Xue in uncovering the plot, and dealing with everyone involved. But she isn't to know she's being helped." The command left her mouth quiet, absolute, the kind of quiet that had never once needed repeating.
A shadow slipped from the room without a sound. "Xue. Consider this your test."
Southern Domain
Jianjie Region
Jianyu City
Celestial Palace, Celestial Sword Empire — the Throne Room
The Emperor of the Celestial Sword Empire sat with a presence that pressed down on the hall like weather — not loud, just heavy enough that every attendant's shoulders stayed a fraction lower than natural.
"Father. You requested my audience." Jian Wushuang knelt, voice scraped clean of anything but obedience.
"How's your comprehension of the Invincible Sword Art progressing? Have you grasped the second stage yet?"
"Father. I can feel it — but I don't have a complete grasp on it yet." His hands, folded against his knee, tightened just slightly.
"Jian Wushuang. You know there are those who can't wait for you to turn twenty, just so they can move against you the moment you go explore the world." The Emperor's voice didn't rise, but something in it sharpened.
Jian Wushuang stayed silent, the muscle in his jaw working once before he stilled it.
"I believe you've heard of Zaitian, of the Long Clan. According to our spy there, his bloodline is... unusual." The words came out unhurried, deliberate .
Something flickered across Jian Wushuang's face — gone almost before it registered. "I've heard of him. I don't believe he poses any real threat to our plans." His voice stayed level, though his eyes didn't quite meet his father's.
"You can never be certain. I'm not willing to leave anything to chance. Kill him before he becomes one." Flat, absolute, no room left in it for argument.
"Your wish is my command, Father." He kept his eyes down.
"You may go." A single dismissive flick of the hand.
Jian Wushuang rose, bowed, and left without a backward glance.
"You can come out now," the Emperor said, into the empty hall.
A man in grey robes stepped forward from nowhere in particular, no aura around him at all, spine bent with age, a walking stick tapping once against the floor.
"How's it progressing?" the Emperor asked, unreadable.
"Jian Wuming. We — the Zuilong Shi — have arranged a meeting with the Heavenly Demon Clan. Your part of the arrangement is this: anyone from the Long Clan carrying a mythical-to-primordial-grade bloodline is to be assassinated."
"Elder Ming. You know Long Tianheng, the Long Clan's Patriarch, has been a thorn in our plans for a long time now. This won't be simple." Something tightened around the Emperor's eyes — old scar tissue from a memory he clearly hadn't buried deep enough.
Elder Ming's expression hardened, the walking stick's tap growing sharper against the floor. "Jian Wuming. You agreed to handle the Long Clan yourself. So explain — why have you been defeated by Tianheng, time and again?"
"Elder Ming. Tell the Council to wait a little longer. I'll resolve this. I already have a plan in motion." The Emperor's shoulders dropped, just slightly, the weight of it showing through for the first time.
"You don't have time, Jian Wuming. The Council's patience is running out." The old man vanished without waiting for a response.
Jian Wuming rose from his throne and turned toward the Central Domain, hands curling into fists at his sides. "Tianheng. You're really forcing my hand here. Why won't you just die already."