The courtyard was unusually silent, blanketed in a light fog that curled like ghostly fingers around the base of the pavilions. The early morning sun failed to pierce the mist, and the sky remained an opaque grey — neither day nor night, like the blurred line between truth and deception.
Qing Yue knelt by the pond, her sleeves brushing the dew-covered stones. The silver lotus she had conjured the night before floated at the water's surface, glimmering faintly with suppressed energy.
It was not a spell she should have used.
This flower belonged to the old world, to the era of the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan — a sacred technique known only by the heads of her lineage. And yet… in that moment of panic, when she had sensed a shadow spirit in the northern hall, it had come to her instinctively.
No one should have seen it.
And yet… someone had.
Footsteps. Deliberate. Calm.
"Interesting technique," a deep voice spoke from behind.
Qing Yue's fingers froze on the edge of the lotus, her expression flickering for a brief second before she stood and turned, already composing a calm smile.
"My Lord."
It was him.
God of War.
Liwei.
Tall and composed, with silver strands of hair cascading over his shoulder like flowing starlight. His eyes weren't cold this time — they were piercing, locked on the lotus, then back on her face.
"That flower," he said, voice low. "Where did you learn it?"
She tilted her head slightly. "It was just a protective charm I picked up in the mortal realm. Perhaps it resembles something else."
Liwei didn't answer. He walked past her, approaching the pond, the hem of his robe grazing the earth. With one hand, he summoned the lotus into the air.
The flower hovered, spinning slowly, releasing soft pulses of ancient energy.
"You lied," he said plainly.
Qing Yue narrowed her eyes. "Excuse me?"
"This is not a mortal charm. This is divine energy masked in illusion — and it comes from the Nine-Tailed Fox Clan." He looked directly at her. "A clan that was wiped out a thousand years ago."
For a second, she couldn't breathe.
He knows.
Or… no. He suspects. But he doesn't know it's me.
"My Lord," she said softly, stepping closer, "perhaps you see what you want to see. I have served you faithfully since the day I arrived."
"And yet," he interrupted, "you appeared the same night the moon turned scarlet." His gaze lingered on her longer than before. "I lost someone that night… someone who used to wield silver lotuses like this one."
Qing Yue lowered her eyes.
So it was true.
He still remembered her. Even now.
And yet, he didn't recognize her.
How pathetic.
All those years, all that pain — and he couldn't even see what stood in front of him. Perhaps it was better this way. Let his ignorance fuel her revenge.
But before she could speak again, he said something that shattered her rhythm:
"Tell me," he said quietly, "are you here to protect me… or destroy me?"
The air shifted.
Qing Yue froze.
What kind of question was that?
Was it a trap?
She looked up, a thousand answers swirling in her chest. But the one that came out was not one she expected.
"…I don't know."
Silence.
He didn't move. Didn't speak.
Just watched her.
And for the first time, something in his eyes changed — not suspicion, not anger.
But sorrow.
"…You remind me of her," he whispered. "Even your voice."
Then he turned and walked away.
Leaving her standing alone beside the pond, with the silver lotus fading into mist behind him.