> "Fear is a root that grows well in silence. Let me plant it in their hearts."
---
The imperial martial courtyard was quieter than usual that morning. Mist curled low over polished tiles and stone lion statues, cloaking the grounds like a veil before a storm. Training had been postponed for the Grand Hall Summons — an event so rare it bled whispers across the capital.
Xie Lan stood before the open window of his quarters, dressed in fresh robes of dark indigo and muted gold. He wore the Shadow Cloak beneath, invisible to the eye but humming against his skin with faint qi threads.
He tightened the cuffs with deliberate precision, watching servants scatter through the gardens below. Already, the air was thick with speculation. Why had the Seventh Prince, the forgotten concubine's child, been summoned to the Hall of Ivory Fans? Why now?
> [System Notification: Faction Reputation in Imperial Academy – +5 (Current: Disregarded ➝ Noticed)]
A faint smirk curved his lips. Let them wonder.
Behind him, Yue stood with her hands folded neatly. Her plain robes masked the sharp awareness in her gaze. "Your posture has changed, Your Highness. The way you carry your breath... it's heavier."
"You see too much, Yue." He didn't look at her.
"I see enough to know that you won't allow them to bury you twice."
He turned finally. "Then walk with me. It's time the court remembered the prince they threw away."
---
[Imperial Palace – Hall of Ivory Fans]
The hall lived up to its name. Giant ivory fans lined the walls — relics of past empresses — their etched feathers bearing prayers of peace and power. It was where princes were judged, and reputations were flayed under ceremonial calm.
High ministers were already seated when Xie Lan entered. Gold-threaded cushions formed a half-moon around the throne dais, and seated at its center was the Emperor himself — Xie Rui, eyes like still water, impassive and unreadable.
To the Emperor's right stood Crown Prince Xie Yan, resplendent in royal crimson.
To the left, Grand Seer Ling Hai — veiled, ancient, and smelling faintly of burning jasmine.
Whispers stopped as Xie Lan stepped into view.
He bowed. "Seventh Prince Xie Lan greets the Dragon Throne."
His voice was steady, his head unbowed an inch too long.
The silence that followed was a blade.
"Rise," the Emperor said.
Xie Lan did — slow, deliberate.
"I am told," said the Grand Seer, "that the Seventh Prince exhibited unusual spiritual strength during morning rites. Enough to awaken dormant formations in the Shrine of Echoing Flames."
The ministers murmured. Even the Emperor blinked.
Crown Prince Xie Yan's gaze narrowed.
"Tell us, Lan," said the Emperor. "Have you begun cultivation?"
Xie Lan met his gaze. "Yes, Your Majesty. In secret. I hoped to avoid... false attention."
The words were a trap in silk.
"False attention?" Xie Yan said smoothly. "Is that what you call the reactions of your peers or their injuries?"
The insult was veiled, but sharp. Whispers grew teeth.
Xie Lan bowed his head slightly. "I have only sought to strengthen myself, Your Highness. Is that not the duty of every imperial son?"
The Emperor looked toward Ling Hai.
The Grand Seer stood. "I propose a trial. A public demonstration of cultivation at the Garden of Warring Grace. There, the empire may judge whether the Seventh Prince's talents are illusion... or threat."
---
[System Prompt Triggered]
> Main Quest Activated: Survive the Public Trial of Warring Grace
Condition: Display overwhelming strength or political grace — survive both court and combat.
Reward: +50 Villain Points | Access to Hidden Court Archives (Tier 1)
---
Back in the Academy compound, Yue prepared a tea blend for Xie Lan, her hands quick but tense.
"They're testing your bloodline," she said. "Not just your skill."
"They'll see both."
Yue bit her lip. "Then we must make sure you don't just survive. You must haunt them."
Xie Lan glanced at her. "Haunt?"
She handed him a scroll — dark silk-bound, sealed with forbidden wax.
"Something my grandmother once gave me. A technique never taught in open courts — banned in the western sects. They say it mimics the cultivator's inner fury as a second spirit."
He unrolled the scroll. His heart thudded.
[Forbidden Technique Acquired: Mirror Phantom – Level 1]
> Grants projection clone fueled by rage and intent. Consumes spiritual essence.
---
[Two Days Later – Garden of Warring Grace]
Nobles lined the stone terraces. High ministers stood under embroidered canopies. At the center, on circular engraved jade platforms, stood Xie Lan and his challenger: Li Rong, son of the Prime Minister, clad in red tiger-hide armor and swirling wind sigils.
The crowd was abuzz. Crown Prince Xie Yan stood beside his father, arms crossed, unreadable.
Li Rong cracked his knuckles. "If you kneel now, bastard prince, I'll spare your teeth."
Xie Lan smiled.
The signal bell rang.
Li Rong attacked first — a blast of wind qi spiraling forward like a hurricane.
Xie Lan stepped to the side, too fluid, too fast. Then he flicked his fingers.
[Shadow Lotus – Level 1: Activated]
Black petals exploded around him in a sudden bloom, slicing through the wind like invisible blades.
Li Rong stumbled, caught off guard.
Xie Lan raised two fingers to his brow.
[Mirror Phantom – Level 1: Activated]
A second Xie Lan emerged a smoke-like copy with burning eyes and lunged forward.
Gasps rippled through the crowd.
Li Rong barely raised a defense before the phantom struck him with a crashing palm to the gut. He flew backward — crashing through a viewing lantern, collapsing in a heap.
The crowd was stunned.
The Emperor did not move.
The Grand Seer bowed slightly. "The Seventh Prince... passes."
> [Quest Complete: Survive the Trial of Warring Grace]
[Villain Points +50 | Hidden Court Archives – Tier 1 Unlocked]
New Title Unlocked: Crimson Shadow
---
[Later That Night – Imperial Academy, West Garden Pavilion]
Rain whispered against paper screens. Xie Lan sat beneath a canopy of red maple leaves, the Shadow Cloak folded beside him, his mind a quiet furnace.
Yue returned from the shadows with fresh ink and a folded message.
"It's begun," she said. "Your name is on the lips of every noble daughter and every frightened son. Even the eunuchs gossip."
Xie Lan opened the scroll. A wax seal marked it — three crossed dragon talons.
"Who?"
"Someone from the Hidden Court," Yue said. "They call themselves Whisper Fang. They saw your performance today. And they want to meet."
Xie Lan's eyes gleamed.
"Then let them come. The roots are taking hold."