Lin Feng's courtyard was a haven of quiet, but his mind was a storm. The cut on his shoulder stung, a memento of the archive ambush, and the Jade Pendant burned against his chest, its runes flickering like a restless spirit. Two days remained until the court's judgment, where he'd present his Qi-powered waterwheel or face banishment. Elder Mo's scroll about the "Star Key" and Su Mei's rescue had lit a fire in him, but Li Xiyue's crate of materials—wood, jade, and a single qi crystal—sat ominously in the corner. Her jasmine-scented offer felt like a deal with a fox, and Prince Zhao's sect thugs were circling closer.
He unrolled his sketches, the waterwheel's design now sharper: gears driven by a Qi crystal's senergy, channeling spiritual springs to irrigate the west's barren fields. His engineer's brain buzzed, piecing together the array like a circuit board. But the qi crystal was the key, and he had no cultivation to test it. The pendant pulsed, its glow flaring as he touched the crystal. You know something, he thought, but its secrets stayed locked. The Star Key scroll hinted that the pendant could unlock the archive's gate, but time was slipping away.
A sharp crack broke his focus. The crate's lid splintered, revealing jagged cuts in the wood—sabotage. Lin Feng's stomach dropped. The Qi crystal was cracked, its faint glow stuttering. "Zhao," he growled, recognizing the Third Prince's handiwork. Without a working crystal, his waterwheel was just a sketch, and banishment loomed. He needed another, but the palace's crystal stores were guarded, and Li Xiyue's next delivery wasn't until tomorrow.
Footsteps crunched outside. Lin Feng tensed, grabbing a broken plank as a makeshift weapon. The courtyard gate creaked, and Elder Mo stepped in, his faded armor glinting under the moon! "Trouble finds you like flies to honey, boy," the old general said, eyeing the wrecked crate. "Zhao's sect dogs did this. They're not done with you."
Lin Feng lowered the plank, her heart racing. "Why help me, Elder? You owe me nothing."
Mo's scarred face softened, a rare glint in his eyes. "Your mother saved my life once, when I was a fool on the battlefield. She said you'd carry her fire. Don't let it fizzle out." He tossed Lin Feng a small pouch. Inside was a Qi crystal, small but intact, its glow steady. "From her stash. USE IT WISELY."
Lin Feng's throat tightens. "Thank you," he said, clutching the crystal. "But why is Zhao so scared of me?"
Mo snorted. "You're a threat he can't predict." That pendant… it's no trinket. Your mother calls it a relic of the First Emperor's artificers. Keep it close, and don't trust that merchant girl too quickly."
Lin Feng nodded, Mo's words sinking in. He set to work, carving the new crystal into his waterwheel model—a wooden mock-up from scraps. The crystal's energy hummed, but without Qi, he couldn't link it to the array The pendant flared, its runes tracing lines in his mind, like a blueprint unfolding. Is this helping you? He wondered, but it faded before he could grasp it.
A shout shattered the night. "Fifth Prince!" Three figures burst into the courtyard-sector thugs, their black robes marked with a crimson claw, mid-Qi Condensation auras crackling. The leader, a wiry man with a scar across his nose, sneered. "Zhao said you're done stealing secrets. Hand over that pendant, or we'll take it."
Lin Feng gripped and steamed the crystal, back toward his model. "Come try," he said, his voice steady despite his lack of Qi. The thugs charged, swords flashing. He dodged, tossing the plank in the leader's face. It hit, buying a second. He grabbed the waterwheel model, swinging it like a club, but the second thug's blade sliced his arm, blood spraying him.
A gust of cold air swept through. Su Mei appeared, her white robe a blur, her sword slicing the leader's blade in half. "Fools," she snapped, her aura freezing the air. She knocked out the second thug with a palm strike, the third fleeing into the night. Lin Feng panted, clutching his bleeding arm. Su Mei's eyes flickered at him, sharp but not cold. "You're reckless," she said. "Why fight when you can't?"
"I don't run," Lin Feng said, meeting her gaze. "Not from Zhao, not from them."
Her lips twitched, almost like a smile. "Stubborn. It might kill you, or save you." She glanced at the water-wheel model, its crystal glowing faintly. "Your toys... they're strange. Like you." She turned to leave, then added, "Zhao's master, Sect Master Yun, is watching. Be ready."
Lin Feng's chest tightened. A sect master? Zhao's back was deeper than he thought. He patched his arm, blood soaking the cloth, and reset the crystal in the model. The pendant pulsed, its glow syncing with the crystal's. A faint hum rose, and the model's gears twitched, spinning for a heartbeat before stopping. Lin Feng's eyes widened. It worked. The pendant guided him even without Qi.
Dawn broke, the palace was stirring. Li Xiyue's voice cut through the haze, her silks swishing as she entered in a new crate. "You look like death, prince," she said, eyeing his wounds. "My materials got ruined? That's bad business." Her smile was sharp, but she pushed the crate forward. "Try again. I'm betting on you, but don't make me regret it."
Lin Feng studied her, the jasmine scent sparking suspicion. "Why the rush to help Lady Li?"
"Profit," she said, eyes glinting. "And maybe I like a prince who fights." She left, her words lingering like a challenge.
The court's deadline loomed one day away. Zhao's thugs, Sect Master Yun, the pendant's hum—danger was closing in, but Lin Feng's resolve burned brighter. He gripped the Star Key scroll and the crystal. The waterwheel had been his only shot. I'll show them all.