The capital felt colder when Shen returned.
Not because of the season…
But because too many eyes watched him now.
The soldiers bowed deeper.The court officials paused longer when passing him.Even the palace walls seemed to lean in, listening.
He stepped back into the Shadow Wing — the silent quarter beneath the throne hall — and placed the scroll containing Lei Cheng's final breath onto the forbidden shelf.
Only the Emperor could access that vault.
But Shen knew better.
"He already knows I have it."
In the high chamber of the Dragon Court, the Emperor sat alone.
Before him: a map of the empire.
One pin burned faintly in the northwest.
"Stone Hollow," he murmured.
Behind him, Minister Wei knelt.Loyal. Loyal. Always loyal.
"Is it true?" the Emperor asked. "Did he go alone?"
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And he returned… alive. Empowered."
Wei hesitated. "He carries the mark of wind now."
The Emperor's fingers twitched.
"Summon the Seers. Quietly. I want blood readings from every Shadow Fang of the past 20 years."
Meanwhile, Shen stood on the terrace of the Shadow Wing, watching hawks fly beyond the palace walls.
His left hand glowed faintly.
The Windlock seal — the first mark of inheritance — had branded itself onto his palm.Invisible to most.But pulsing with power.
"Only six more," he muttered."Then the empire will remember who I was."
Suddenly — a voice behind him.
Soft. Familiar.
"You didn't bury the body."
He turned.
The Empress.
She wore no crown today. No jewels. Just gray.
Mourning again.
"He deserved burial," Shen replied."He gave me truth."
"You'll learn the cost of truth here."
She walked closer.
"He's investigating you now."
"Who?"
"My husband."
She looked him in the eye.
"He's not a fool, Shen. He suspects. And if he confirms what I already know…"
A pause.
"…he will not spare you."
Shen didn't flinch.
He asked, "Then why warn me?"
The Empress stared at him for a long time.
Then, softly:
"Because once… I held two sons. And I only kept one."
That night, in the Hall of Echoes, the Emperor stood alone before a sealed vault.
He opened it.
Inside was a dusty cradle.
Untouched.
A single cloth wrapped around a forgotten relic — two jade anklets.
He picked them up, studied the engraving.
"Li Yun," he whispered.
A pause.
Then, colder:
"If you are truly alive… you are a threat."
And from the darkness behind him, another voice spoke:
"Then shall we remove him?"
The Emperor didn't turn.
He only said,
"Not yet."