Two whole days.
Not a whisper. Not a snide remark. Not a smug chuckle in the back of his mind. Just silence.
Shenyan should've been thrilled. He'd spent weeks begging that damn voice to shut up. But now that it had? It felt…wrong.
Shenyan was no stranger to solitude. From the day he was born, he'd been the sickly boy in the back room. The one too fragile to join sword training, too different to earn friendship, too mocked to smile freely. Even his cousins hadn't spared him.
But Xuanzi—loud, arrogant, annoyingly omniscient—had been the only constant presence in his life. And now he was gone.
So Shenyan threw himself into practice.
Before dawn, every morning, when no one could mock him, he crept into the hidden courtyard behind his quarters. He ran through the memorized cultivation forms—slow, tedious patterns that built nothing overnight. He still couldn't channel qi properly, but he knew the movements. Muscle memory could be carved even into a weak body.
And then, that morning, he saw something.
A figure in black, cloaked head to toe, moving with the weightless grace of someone trained—dangerously trained. The figure leapt over the outer palace wall like it was a simple doorstep.
Shenyan's heart skipped. His first instinct? Run. Call a guard. But he didn't.
Because who would believe him? He'd be interrogated on why he was there at that time.
He pressed his back against the wall and watched.
The figure moved like water—silent, flowing, sure. Shenyan waited a beat, then stepped out of the shadows and followed. Slowly. Carefully. Not close enough to be caught.
The path the figure took led away from the main palace roads, slipping through lesser-known alleys and servant passages. Shenyan's bare feet made no sound as he crept behind, shivering with a strange anticipation.
And then the figure stopped.
Shenyan ducked behind a stone lantern.
The cloaked stranger stood before the estate gates of General Lin Liang—one of the empire's most revered noblemen. A war hero. A man whose name was spoken with reverence and fear.
The gate was locked, but the figure didn't seem to care. With swift fingers, they scaled the side wall and disappeared inside.
Shenyan's brows furrowed.
What business could someone have at General Lin's estate before dawn?
Something in his chest buzzed.
Suspicion. Curiosity. Or maybe fear.
But louder than all three was that aching emptiness in his head.
Still no voice.
Still no sign of Xuanzi.
"…Where are you?" Shenyan whispered to no one.
The sky was beginning to pale. He didn't have long.
But he couldn't walk away now.
He had to know who that was.
Shenyan pressed close to the wall, his fingers gripping the rough stone. He could still see the figure vanish over the inner walls of General Lin's estate. His breath was shallow, barely a stir against the cold wind.
He had made up his mind. He would follow. Just quietly. Just to see.
But as he stepped forward, the voice finally returned.
"No."
A single word. Low. Firm.
Shenyan froze.
It had been two days—two long, quiet days. He should have been annoyed. He wanted to roll his eyes and say something sarcastic like, "Oh, look who finally woke up." But the sound of that voice, as familiar as it was frustrating, hit him like warmth after rain.
He didn't speak.
He just stood still.
And then, slowly, he turned around and walked back toward the palace.
He didn't understand why he listened. But he did.
---
By the time he returned to his quarters, dawn had broken.
He pushed the door shut behind him and leaned back against it. The room was quiet, warm with faint traces of incense from the night before. He stood in silence for a moment, eyes half-closed.
Then finally he said, "why were you silent?"
"Now you need me?"
Shenyan sighed. "Don't be dramatic."
"You missed me, right?"
"…Don't flatter yourself. I just don't like the quiet. It makes me feel like I'm the only one alive."
There was a pause. A softer kind.
"I needed time to think. About…things."
Shenyan's brows pulled. "You? Thinking?"
"Yes. Even gods reflect. Sometimes."
Shenyan dropped onto the floor and crossed his arms. "Fine. Then tell me. Who was that person? Why were they sneaking around General Lin's estate?"
"I don't know."
"…Huh?"
"I said I don't know. I can't sense everything. I'm in your head, not theirs."
Shenyan blinked. That…was oddly honest. And not in the usual mocking tone.
"And the reason you told me to leave?"
There was a slight breath before the reply.
"Danger. That place has strong dark energy… too strong. I don't know what the Lin family is hiding but the negative energy would kill you."
Shenyan didn't speak after that. He just moved to the window, letting the early morning sunlight touch his cheek. Something in his chest was tight again. Like a bowstring that had never truly relaxed.
"…Alright," he finally said. "Fine."
---
The rest of the day passed slowly.
He didn't leave his room. He painted on old parchment—ink sketches of mountains, koi fish, rivers. His brushwork was sloppy, but honest. Between strokes, he asked questions.
"Why do I still fail at the fourth posture?"
"Because you keep raising your elbow. Stop that."
"Why is my qi not circulating?"
"Because you have no patience. And a terrible temper."
"…Did you just insult me or answer me?"
"Both."
He grumbled under his breath, but his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but something close.
Yes, the voice was annoying. Arrogant. Always speaking in riddles and pride.
But after two days of silence, Shenyan realized—
It was the closest thing he had to a friend.
___
Night in the palace was usually quiet—too quiet. But that night, something was different.
It was already past the hour of Hai, nearing the second watch. Around eight in the night. The sky outside his window was dark, the stars veiled by clouds, and the moon hung pale behind thin mist. Shenyan had just finished brushing a few final strokes on a bamboo scroll when he heard it—voices. Footsteps. Movement.
Not the usual kind.
His brush paused mid-air.
Noise in the palace courtyard? At this hour?
Curiosity, as always, got the better of him.
He slipped on his shoes quickly, wrapping a robe over his inner garments, and slid the door open. Cold air brushed his cheeks, but he barely noticed. Quiet as a shadow, he crept through the hallway, following the source of the disturbance.
The moment he stepped outside, he saw them.
Torchlight flickered in the dark. Soldiers, about five or six, marched through the stone courtyard in formation. And walking ahead of them—was none other than General Lin.
His face was hard as steel. Anger flickered behind his eyes like flame behind paper.
Shenyan ducked behind one of the carved pillars, heart thumping against his ribs.
General Lin? At this hour? What is he doing here?
It wasn't common for the general to visit the inner palace, let alone with soldiers in tow. Something had happened. And clearly, it wasn't small.
Behind him, Xuanzi's voice stirred again, quiet and thoughtful.
"Now that… is not a man who walks without a reason."
Shenyan whispered under his breath, "Is it related to the person I saw before dawn?"
"Could be. But even if it is, you'd best keep your nose out of it."
"Why?"
"Because trouble walks with soldiers. And you're not ready to fight trouble."
But Shenyan didn't listen.
The voice had warned him. Told him to stay away. But something in his gut screamed louder. So, he followed the noise, slipping past the sleepy guards and running toward the courtyard, where angry voices echoed beneath the moonlight.
There, under the pale sky, stood General Lin, his eyes wild and red with fury. Soldiers surrounded him, silent, tense.
"What is he doing here…?" Shenyan whispered to himself.
Then—without warning—General Lin turned.
"You," he barked, pointing straight at the prince. "Why are you here?"
Shenyan didn't answer. He simply stepped forward.
"You shouldn't be out here, sickly boy," the General snarled, storming toward him. "Go back to your room—
He shoved him.
Or rather… tried to.
But Shenyan didn't move.
The moment General Lin's hand met his chest, a strange pressure pushed back. Not from Shenyan's muscles—but from something deeper. A quiet force, humming beneath his skin. His body remained rooted, unmoved.
Even General Lin blinked, stunned.
"You…" he muttered. "What are you?"
Shenyan looked down at himself.
He didn't feel stronger. But something was different.
He could hear it now—a soft buzz in his veins, a warmth in his bones, like invisible threads winding through his limbs.
"Congratulations. You finally successfully gained more suspicions and unlocked a special power,"
Xuanzi's voice whispered at last, smooth and amused.
Shenyan blinked. Wait—what?
"You disobeyed me. But lucky for you… it worked."