The ancestral hall’s incense smoke curled around Zhao Gaolie’s rigid shoulders as he studied Lin Hao. The patriarch’s earlier fervor had cooled into something sharper—a merchant recalculating a risky investment.

  “So you’ll attempt Tianyan Academy’s entrance trials?” Zhao’s jade thumb ring clicked against the armrest. “Ambitious. Though unnecessary given your…other qualifications.”

  Lin Hao’s Wolf Spider skittered across the floor, trailing silk that glinted like poisoned silver. “Blind men need clearer paths,” he said mildly.

  A muscle twitched beneath Zhao’s eye. Before he could respond, the hall’s crimson doors swept open. Zhao Ling’er entered like winter moonlight—pale, beautiful, and utterly remote. Her azure robes whispered across flagstones as she bypassed Lin Hao without a glance.

  “Father.” Her voice held the crispness of unsheathed steel. “I’ve drafted the annulment papers.”

  Zhao Gaolie’s composure cracked. “Nonsense! The Zhao and Lin families—”

  “—will survive severed ties.” Ling’er placed a scroll stamped with the academy’s celestial seal on the altar. “Tianyan’s chancellor guarantees protection.”

  The Spider froze mid-stride. Lin Hao observed the tableau through the Fly’s kaleidoscopic eyes—Zhao’s whitened knuckles, Ling’er’s unyielding posture, the way shadows deepened around the ancestral tablets.

  “You’d abandon duty for pride?” Zhao roared, slamming his fist. “This marriage secures our lineage!”

  Ling’er’s laugh was frost cracking. “Secures? You bartered me like common jade!” Her gaze flickered to Lin Hao, lingering on his milky eyes. “I’ll not waste years nursing a cripple while rivals claim Tianyan’s glory.”

  The insult hung unacknowledged. Lin Hao traced the Spider’s vibrations—Ling’er’s pulse raced despite her icy tone. Fear, he realized. Not of me, but of confinement.

  Zhao surged to his feet. “You think the academy shields fools? Without Lin Hao’s—” He choked back the name Nether Pavilion. “—connections, you’re just another talent to exploit!”

  “Enough.” Lin Hao’s voice sliced the tension. Both Zhos turned, startled by his intervention. “Let her go.”

  The hall stilled. Somewhere beyond the latticed windows, crows jeered.

  Ling’er recovered first. “You…support this?”

  Lin Hao shrugged. “A stumbling block removed benefits us both.”

  Zhao Gaolie’s face purpled. “You ingrate! After I burned the first annulment decree—”

  “Father!” Ling’er’s composure shattered. “You interfered?!”

  The Spider chose that moment to ascend Lin Hao’s leg, its chitinous body catching firelight. Ling’er recoiled—not from fear, but recognition. Her sharp inhale echoed the Spider’s hiss.

  “The assassin’s pet…” she breathed. Eyes widening, she whirled on Zhao Gaolie. “You knew? You’re using him as a weapon?!”

  Chaos erupted.

  Zhao roared orders to guards. Ling’er snatched the annulment scroll. The Spider launched silk strands that pinned fluttering sleeves to walls. Through it all, Lin Hao stood motionless—a chess king observing checkmate.

  “Enough theatrics.” His quiet words stilled the room. The Fly alighted on Ling’er’s shoulder, wings humming a warning. “Leave for Tianyan. Claim your destiny.”

  Ling’er hesitated. For a heartbeat, Lin Hao glimpsed the girl beneath the ice—curious, ambitious, trapped. Then she stiffened. “And you?”

  “I’ll walk my path.” He gestured to the Spider’s web now glittering above the altar. “Blind men see clearest in the dark.”

  As Ling’er swept out, scroll clutched like a dagger, Zhao Gaolie collapsed into his throne. “Fool woman,” he rasped. “She’ll doom us all.”

  Lin Hao’s laughter startled them both—rich, genuine, and utterly without mirth. “No, Patriarch. You’ve mistaken pawns for players.”

  He departed as dawn gilded the courtyard, the Fly mapping two sets of footprints—Ling’er’s hurried strides east toward freedom, and his own winding south into shadows.

  Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

  Somewhere beyond the city walls, Tianyan Academy’s bells tolled. The game advanced.

  The Stumbling Block

  The morning sun filtered through the courtyard’s ancient magnolia as Zhao Gaolie stroked his beard, watching his daughter pace like a caged phoenix. Ling’er’s azure robes fluttered with each agitated step, the embroidered water dragons seeming to snap at invisible foes.

  “He’s a mage?” Her voice cracked on the word. “Since when do blind men weave fire runes?”

  Zhao chuckled, the sound as dry as autumn leaves. “Since our dear son-in-law decided humble pie wasn’t to his taste.” His jade-ringed finger tapped the windowsill where the Kung Fu Fly had perched moments earlier. “Your husband’s been busy cultivating more than marital bonds.”

  Ling’er froze. The memory of midnight fire qi rippling through her meditation chamber resurfaced—heat that had melted frost patterns on her window yet left drapes unscathed. Her fingers unconsciously traced the jade pendant at her throat, its cool surface failing to soothe.

  “Even so,” she forced through clenched teeth, “a backwater mage barely qualifies as—”

  “—the man who incinerated three Ma family assassins last night?” Zhao interrupted. He produced a scorched silk handkerchief bearing the charred wolf sigil of Qingyang’s Ma Clan. “Their corpses now fertilize our peonies. Efficient, don’t you think?”

  The courtyard fell silent save for distant hammering—servants repairing gates battered in last night’s skirmish. Ling’er’s composure wavered as she studied the evidence. “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  “You were busy drafting annulment papers,” Zhao said mildly. “Besides, our Lin Hao prefers subtlety.” His eyes gleamed with perverse pride. “Burned the bodies himself. No witnesses, no evidence—just ash and denial.”

  A cold breeze swept through the corridor, carrying the metallic tang of recent bloodshed. Ling’er shivered, though whether from chill or revelation remained unclear.

  “The academy’s trials begin in ten days,” she said at last, voice steadied by resolve. “If he fails…”

  “He won’t.”

  “If he fails,” she pressed, “you’ll dissolve this farce.”

  Zhao’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Naturally.”

  ———

  The training yard’s gravel crunched beneath Lin Hao’s bare feet as he hoisted stone weights. Morning light glistened on sweat-slick muscles that had filled out through weeks of relentless training. The Wolf Spider observed from a sun-warmed rock, legs idly tapping out the rhythm of his lifts.

  Thud.

  A hundred-pound stone met earth.

  Thud.

  Another joined it.

  “Improper form wastes effort.”

  Lin Hao straightened to find Steward Zhao Rong leaning against a persimmon tree, wizened face crinkled in appraisal. The old man’s qi felt like still water—deceptively calm, impossibly deep.

  “Advice requires payment,” Lin Hao replied, toweling sweat from his neck. The Fly buzzed warning circles around Zhao Rong’s head.

  “Consider it an investment.” The steward stepped forward, joints creaking like ancient timber. “Observe.”

  His gnarled hands gripped the stones. With a motion smoother than calligraphy ink, Zhao Rong began a sequence of lifts that blurred weight and grace. Qi rippled through his sinewy arms, each movement etching faint luminescent patterns in the air.

  “Muscle alone is brute force,” he intoned. “Qi channels are rivers. Guide them.”

  Lin Hao’s milky eyes narrowed. Through the Spider’s infrared vision, he saw the steward’s meridians flare—a glowing roadmap of energy flow. The patterns mirrored the cultivation manuals he’d memorized but never fully grasped.

  “Again,” Zhao Rong commanded, relinquishing the stones.

  Lin Hao’s hands found the worn grips. He closed his eyes, reaching for the reservoir of dragon blood simmering beneath his scales. Heat surged through his palms, searing the stone handles black.

  “Control,” the steward warned.

  The yard erupted in crimson light as Lin Hao’s qi ignited. Stone weights floated inches above trembling hands, molten rock dripping like candle wax. Zhao Rong’s composure finally cracked—a flicker of primal fear in those watery eyes.

  “Enough!”

  The stones crashed down, embedding themselves in scorched earth. Lin Hao staggered, veins pulsing with unstable energy. The Spider skittered to his side, venom sacs swollen in alarm.

  Zhao Rong studied the smoldering craters. “You’ll need better control before the trials.”

  “Or worse enemies,” Lin Hao countered, wiping soot from his face.

  The steward’s laughter echoed strangely from such a frail frame. “The academy’s examiners are enemies. They’ll dissect your secrets like curious surgeons.” His cane tapped the warped stones. “Hide this. Hide everything.”

  As Zhao Rong shuffled away, Lin Hao noticed the steward’s shadow stretched impossibly long—a writhing thing with too many limbs. The Spider hissed. The Fly dove after it, only to be rebuffed by an unseen force.

  ———

  That evening, the moon hung low and heavy as Lin Hao stood at the ancestral hall’s threshold. The Fly’s compound eyes showed him Ling’er kneeling before spirit tablets, her midnight hair unbound like a mourning veil.

  “Why persist?” Her voice carried clearly in the still air. “We both know this marriage is—”

  “—a ladder.” Lin Hao entered, Wolf Spider trailing silk that glowed faintly in the dark. “You climb. I climb. What matters is the view from the top.”

  Ling’er rose, water qi coalescing around her fingertips. “You presume much.”

  “I presume nothing.” He gestured to the Fly now perched on her shoulder. “But vermin hear secrets in high places.”

  Her eyes widened. The Fly took wing, projecting fragmented memories onto the hall’s dusty air—Ling’er practicing forbidden ice runes, bribing academy officials, burning letters stamped with a prince’s seal.

  “Enough!” Her qi flared, shattering the illusions. “What do you want?”

  Lin Hao’s smile held no warmth. “A duel at dawn. If I lose, the annulment stands.”

  “And if you win?”

  “We attend the trials as strangers.” The Spider’s silk wove through his fingers like puppet strings. “No bonds. No lies. Just competition.”

  Ling’er’s laughter rang hollow. “You’d gamble pride against privilege?”

  “Pride is privilege.” He turned to leave, moonlight glinting off scaled knuckles. “Dawn awaits, wife.”

  The hall’s braziers flared as he departed, casting long shadows that danced like battling titans. Somewhere beyond the manor walls, Tianyan Academy’s trial gongs began their ominous countdown.