It came without warning.
Before dawn, while most of the palace still slumbered under a blanket of mist, a eunuch in black-and-gold robes entered the servant quarters, flanked by two Shadow Guards.
"Shen," he announced, voice flat. "You have been summoned."
Every servant froze. Some backed away.
Shen did not move. He simply looked up.
"…Summoned by whom?"
The eunuch raised a brow, surprised by the calm tone.
"By Her Majesty. The Empress herself."
The walk to the Phoenix Pavilion was long, winding through golden bridges, lotus ponds, and statues of the First Emperors. Shen walked behind the eunuch in silence, his mind alert.
"She hasn't seen me in seventeen years. What could she want now?"
He already knew the answer: the sparring match.Someone whispered in her ear. Maybe the prince. Maybe someone else.
But more importantly… Shen wanted to see her.
To look into the eyes of the woman who had once birthed him, then let him be erased.
The Phoenix Pavilion smelled of plum blossoms and secrets.
He was led inside — a chamber draped in white silk, warmed by golden braziers. At its center, seated on a raised dais, was the Empress of Xuanlong.
She was regal. Untouchable. Her robe was embroidered with cranes and mountains, her black hair threaded with phoenix pins.
But her eyes…
…her eyes wavered when she saw him.
She dismissed the eunuch with a flick of her hand.
Only Shen and the Empress remained.
"You," she said slowly, studying his face. "Your name is Shen?"
He bowed low. "Yes, Your Majesty."
A long silence.
"You were the servant who sparred with the Crown Prince," she said.
"Yes."
"…And you caught his spear."
"I did."
Another silence — but this one was colder.
Her gaze sharpened. "Who taught you to fight like that?"
Shen lifted his eyes slightly. "My master was… an exile."
"You speak well for a servant."
"I was raised well… in the shadows."
The line lingered.
She froze.
Then, without warning, she stood and stepped down the dais, walking slowly toward him. Closer. Close enough to see his eyes.
She stopped.
Stared.
There it was — the flicker.
Recognition.
Shock.
"…No," she whispered. "It can't be…"
He didn't speak.
"Your eyes…" she murmured. "Exactly like… no, this is madness."
Her hand trembled.
And then, as if catching herself, she turned sharply. "You may leave."
"…As Your Majesty commands."
He bowed and turned — but paused at the doorway.
Then, softly:
"It's strange, isn't it… how a forgotten shadow can still carry the blood of dragons."
He didn't wait for a reply.
That night, the Empress ordered her maids to bring her the Imperial Star Charts.
Alone in her chamber, she unrolled them under candlelight. The ancient celestial records from seventeen years ago. She traced the date of birth. The twin comet. The blood moon.
"The stars never lied," she whispered.
"They just told half the truth."
Back in the servant quarters, Shen sat cross-legged beneath the moonlight, circulating his qi through his limbs in absolute silence.
No scroll. No incense. No chants.
His cultivation was unnatural. A style forgotten even by the palace.
"Silent Meridian Flow.""Born from absence. Perfected through exile."
His veins shimmered faintly in the dark, pulsing not with normal qi……but with something older. Wilder. A sleeping dragon's breath.
He didn't know where it came from — not fully.Only that his blood responded to moonlight, and his core never aligned with normal spiritual veins.
"One day," he thought, "I'll find the truth."