The corridors of the Lotus Sect stretched out in gleaming silence, polished stone floors echoing faintly beneath soft footsteps. Meiyin followed Lin Yue wordlessly, her mind still caught in the solemn air of the elders' hall. The heavy doors had closed behind her like a final verdict, even though no answer had been demanded of her yet. Still, her heart felt as though it had been measured and found lacking.
When they reached her room, Lin Yue bowed politely before sliding the doors open.
"Please rest, Miss Meiyin. I'll return shortly with the evening meal. There are a few errands I must attend to," the girl said, voice gentle.
Meiyin nodded. "Thank you."
The doors whispered shut behind her.
She had been in this room for barely two days, but it already felt unfamiliar-too foreign, too polished, too carefully adorned. Soft pink screens embroidered with lotus blossoms separated the bedchamber from the bathing area, and soft carpets in pale pink and ivory muted her footsteps. Silk curtains framed tall windows that overlooked a quiet inner courtyard blooming with white orchids. Every piece of furniture was made from red sandalwood, carved with vines and clouds, and polished to a mirror sheen.
Even the robe she wore was too fine, too heavy with embroidery and scent.Silver thread winding around her sleeves like moonlight, the inner lining lined with delicate fur that made her feel even more like a guest in someone else's skin.
She lowered herself onto the chaise by the window, curling her knees up beneath her.
What would Master Qiao say, if he saw her like this?
What would Miaomiao have said?
Her throat tightened.
She had no home to return to. Yunping Village was no more than a memory now—lost, buried in the mountain fog. She had no mother, no father. No Master Qiao, no Hope.The thought struck like a blade: she had not just lost them. She had no one left in the world.
And yet,could she truly stay here?
In this glittering palace of silent contempt and suspicion, where the very robes she wore seemed to whisper you do not belong?
She pressed a hand to her chest, where the invisible weight of grief and decision had settled.
"I don't know if I can," she whispered aloud, voice trembling. "I don't know if I want to."
The silence of the room offered no answer.
A soft gust of wind stirred the curtains at the window, and with it came the sound of footsteps deliberate, not her attendant's. The door to her room slid open without a knock.
Meiyin sat up at once.
Three figures entered, as different from the soft-spoken attendant as dawn from dusk.
Leading them was a tall girl of about seventeen, her silk robes a vivid crimson embroidered with gold cranes. Her black hair was swept into a high coiled bun adorned with jade pins, and her lips were stained a rich wine-red. Her skin was porcelain-pale, her gaze sharp with entitlement.
Two maidservants followed, both in matching gray-blue uniforms, their arms folded and expressions bored.
The girl's eyes swept the room, lingering on the silk cushions, the lacquered dressing table, the soft bed draped in sheer silks.
"So this is the infamous girl from the mountains," she said at last, voice honeyed and poisonous.
Meiyin stood slowly, her back straight despite the tight knot forming in her stomach.
"I'm sorry," she said. "Who are you?"
The girl's mouth curled into a smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"Yan Li," she said. "Disciple of the Inner Court. Granddaughter of Elder Yu."
She said it like it should mean something like it should make Meiyin bow and scrape.
Meiyin didn't.
Yan Li's smile thinned.
"I thought I would come welcome you properly. After all, we've heard so much about the girl who fell from the sky and landed in the young master's arms." Her eyes glittered, and Meiyin felt the barb even before the words left the girl's mouth. "Though I didn't expect them to dress you up like a princess."
She walked forward slowly, trailing a hand across Meiyin's dressing table, then stopping before the mirror.
"Pretty," she said, examining herself. "But not suitable for a stray. Tell me, do you even know how to use half of what's in this room? Or are you still figuring out which end of the brush touches your hair?"
Meiyin's fists clenched at her sides.
She was used to village gossip, to pointed glances. But this… this was different. This was not mockery born from ignorance. This was a challenge. A test.
And she would not fail.
"I may not be from the sect," Meiyin said, her voice steady, "but I know when someone is trying to humiliate me."
Yan Li turned from the mirror, expression still faintly amused.
"Oh, I'm not trying," she said sweetly. "I'm succeeding."
The two maids laughed quietly behind her.
Yan Li took a step closer, her perfume heavy and cloying.
"You don't belong here. You don't know how things work. And believe me, the longer you stay, the harder it's going to get."
Meiyin met her gaze head-on. "That's not your decision to make."
"It will be," Yan Li said. "Soon enough. Once the sect sees you for what you are."
"And what is that?" Meiyin asked quietly.
"A shadow chasing the light."
Meiyin took a slow breath.
"I may be a shadow," she said. "But even shadows are born of light. And I'll find mine, whether you like it or not."
The maids stopped laughing.
Yan Li's smile faltered for a moment.
"You're bold for a girl with no cultivation," she said flatly.
"I don't need to cultivate to see the kind of person you are," Meiyin replied.
Yan Li's eyes flashed. For a moment, her calm cracked.
Then she turned on her heel.
"Come," she said to her maids.
But at the doorway, she looked back over her shoulder.
"Let's see how long you last, mountain girl."
The doors shut behind her with more force than necessary.
Meiyin didn't move.
Even after the door shut and silence returned, she stood in the center of the room, heart pounding. Her silver eyes burned with the shame of being spoken down to, but also with a quiet, stubborn fire. Her hands trembled, not with fear, but restraint.
She had seen girls like that before. In the towns near Yunping, where nobles passed through with their embroidered banners and peacock glares. But this was different. This girl had power. She belonged here. Meiyin didn't. Not yet.
She inhaled shakily, then turned away from the door.
The room was quiet again. Lin Yue still hadn't returned. Outside, the sun was lower now, casting long streaks of amber light through the lattice screens. The gold embroidery on the curtains shimmered as if the light had awakened something within them. It should have been beautiful. It was beautiful. But Meiyin didn't feel it.
She walked slowly back to the vanity. Her reflection stared back at her—tired, pale, and too sharp around the edges. She brushed a hand through her tangled curls. The silk robes she wore felt like someone else's skin.
"I will not break," she said aloud. Her voice was soft but resolute. "I didn't die on that mountain. I didn't fall when I saw the bodies. I didn't run when I faced the elders. I won't start now."
She crossed to the window and pushed it open, letting the cool wind rush in. Her silver eyes lifted to the sky beyond the rooftops. Clouds moved like silk across the heavens.
Let them whisper.
Let them mock her name.
Let them think her weak.
She would prove them all wrong.
She would survive.
And one day, she would rise.
She moved to the bed, the soft mattress dipping under her weight. A moment passed before she reached under the pillow and drew out the old ribbon she had hidden earlier. It was worn, its edges frayed. Joy had given it to her once to tie her hair while playing in the village fields. It was all she had left of that life.
She held it tightly in her fist.
"I'll show them."
Footsteps sounded in the corridor. A soft knock followed.
The door opened and her attendant reappeared, slightly out of breath, carrying a new tray with sliced pears and warm tea.
"I'm sorry for the delay," Lin Yue said, bowing. "There was an unexpected inspection in the west wing. I hurried back as soon as I could."
Meiyin managed a small nod, her face calm once more. "Thank you."
Lin Yue hesitated. "Did something happen while I was gone?"
There was genuine concern in her eyes.
Meiyin shook her head. "Just a visitor. I handled it."
She seemed to sense more than Meiyin was saying, but didn't press. Instead, she placed the tray carefully on the table and moved to adjust the folds of Meiyin's robes with gentle fingers.
"Tomorrow," she said softly, "you'll have to meet with the elder again. I thought… perhaps some warm milk before bed? It helps with nerves."
Meiyin blinked, surprised by the tenderness. "That would be nice."
Lin Yue bowed again and left quietly, promising to return shortly.
When the door closed behind her, Meiyin turned back to the window. The cherry blossoms were starting to fall in earnest now, swirling like snow in the dusk.
She sat there, watching.
Her fingers found the ribbon again. Her thoughts turned not to the nobles, or even Jihan, but to the quiet graves beneath the earth in Yunping. To the healer's smile. To Miaomiao's laughter.
"I will prove I belong," she whispered.
Not for them. For herself.
Even if it broke her bones.
Even if it broke her heart.
Lin Yue could be seen exiting Meiyin's chambers,but as soon as she rounded the corner past the archway leading to the servants' wing, she halted beneath a shadowed lantern. A slim figure in grey servant's robes stepped from the alcove. It was a young woman with neat hair pinned into a looped braid, her bearing far too composed for a simple servant.
"Lin Suyin," Lin Yue whispered. "You're alone?"
"I always am when you send for me," the woman replied calmly.
Without a word, Lin Yue slipped a folded slip of parchment from her sleeve and pressed it into Suyin's palm. The paper was thin, the writing faint—Meiyin's name wasn't written, but its contents were unmistakable.
"She's being targeted already," Yunxi murmured. "Tell him. Tell him I fear it won't end with harsh words and spilled tea."
Suyin's expression didn't change, but her grip on the note tightened just slightly. She gave one short nod, then disappeared like smoke down the corridor.
—
Night fell like a curtain over the Lotus Sect, casting the marble paths and lantern-lit corridors in silver. The main residence where the young sect master lived sat on a raised pavilion at the rear of the complex, guarded but not grandiose.
Inside a private chamber walled in by dark lattice screens, Jihan sat alone at his low desk, brushing ink onto a scroll. His hair was tied into a high knot, a few loose strands falling over his brow. Candlelight played over the sharp lines of his face,too mature for his age, too cold for a boy just nineteen.
Suyin entered silently, as she always did.
He did not look up.
"I assume you came for a reason," he said flatly, still writing.
"I did," she replied. She held the note up.
The scratching of his brush stopped.
"She's already made an enemy," Suyin continued, placing the note on the table.
Jihan stared at it for a beat before setting his brush down. He opened the paper and read it silently.
—They cornered her. Elder Li's granddaughter led it. Called her trash. Threatened her future. She didn't cry. She didn't yield. She said she'd prove them wrong. But she is alone. And she's still not cultivating. I'm afraid this is only the beginning.—
The candles flickered slightly as if in response to the storm behind Jihan's eyes.
He folded the note once more and set it aside.
"She's not supposed to stand out ," he said quietly. "The elders—if they sense any trouble…"
"They'll act," Suyin finished.
Jihan leaned back, eyes shuttered. "Lin Yue is loyal?"
"With her life," she said. "But I cannot keep Meiyin safe within the inner court."
Jihan's jaw tightened. "I never meant for her to end up here like this."
He rose to his feet. "I'm going out."
"Jihan," Suyin warned.
"I won't speak to her," he said. "I just need to see for myself."
—
Meiyin couldn't sleep.
She lay on her side, the silken sheets were too smooth, the bed far too soft for someone raised on reed mats and mountain floors. Her dark hair spilled across the pillows like ink. The golden embroidery on the canopy overhead shimmered faintly in the moonlight filtering through the paper windows.
She turned her face into her pillow and exhaled shakily.
She didn't belong here.
But she didn't belong anywhere else either.
When the faintest creak touched her ears, Meiyin sat up sharply, heart racing.
But the door remained closed.
Still… someone was near.
She rose and padded softly across the room, slipping on her outer robe. The chill of the stone floor seeped through her feet as she crossed to the window and pushed it open.
The garden below glowed faintly in the moonlight. A gentle breeze stirred the plum blossoms.
And beneath one of the trees stood a figure.
He wasn't moving. His long outer robe fluttered slightly. His hair was unmistakable, even from behind—tied in the traditional half-knot , glinting black-blue under the moonlight.
Meiyin's breath caught.
It couldn't be.
She pressed her hand to the windowsill.
For a moment, he did nothing. Then, almost as if he sensed her gaze, Jihan turned his head ever so slightly. Their eyes met.
Even from a distance, the weight of that glance made her knees tremble.
He didn't say a word.
He didn't need to.
Then he turned and vanished into the shadows of the tree's, leaving only the soft rustle of fabric behind.
Meiyin stood there long after he disappeared, her heart thundering.
She didn't know why he had come.
But something in her chest tightened at the thought: He had come to see her.