Beneath the crimson glow of dusk, Concubine Mu Shuirou stood with her veil fluttering in the wind, her sharp eyes narrowing as she stepped before the old, decaying house. This was where her trusted shadow—a man cloaked always in black—was supposed to have kept Lin Xuanji. Lian'er, her ever-loyal maidservant, walked beside her silently, both of them cautious, their steps careful on the cracked stone path.
But when Concubine Shuirou lifted her gaze toward the door, her breath caught in her throat.
There, swinging slightly in the wind, was the severed head of the black-cloaked man—his eyes lifeless, his face frozen in horror.
"A-AHHHHHHHH!" Shuirou let out a sharp, involuntary scream, stumbling backward.
Lian'er gasped and covered her mouth, her eyes wide. "Young Mistress… it'shim! The shadow we sent!"
"Who did this?!" Shuirou hissed, clutching the front of her embroidered robe with trembling hands. She rushed into the house, silk skirts swishing violently. But the moment she crossed the threshold, she realized it: the place was empty. No presence. Nomonsters. No signs of struggle—just dust, broken tiles, and the faint scent of blood fading into the walls.
Concubine Lin was gone.
"Not even a corpse?" Lian'er murmured, unease spreading across her face.
"Damn it all," Shuirou muttered, her teeth gritting. "Someone stronger than I expected… someone who dares defy me."
She turned swiftly on her heel, the embroidered phoenix on her sleeves catching the fading light. "Let's go back. Now."
"Yes, Young Mistress," said Lian'er, and they quickly departed, heading back toward Tianxun Sect under the cover of the thickening night.
On the ride back, Concubine Shuirou's expression grew darker with every step. She sat stiffly inside her carriage, gripping the fabric of her sleeve tightly, her thoughts racing.
If I cannot control the truth… then I will create it.
By the time she returned to the sect, a plan had already begun to take form in her mind.
———
At the edge of Tianxun Sect, morning mist drifted over the jade tiles and carved walkways like soft silk. In the Inner Courtyard, where only concubines and favored attendants gathered, a quiet storm began to brew. With every gentle sigh, every well-timed tear, Concubine Shuirou spun a lie like a spider weaving silk—delicate, glistening, and deadly.
Clad in pale lavender robes with her hair combed into a neat double bun adorned with a single jade pin, Shuirou walked slowly across the pavilion. Her steps were hesitant—calculated—as if she bore the weight of grief. When she arrived, her face was veiled, but her trembling voice was unmistakable.
"Sisters," she said softly, standing in the middle of the tea gathering. "I come not as a rival, but as a woman who has seen too much."
The other concubines turned from their tea to look at her. Concern and curiosity flickered in their eyes.
ConcubineMingyue, urrowed her brow. "Concubine Mu, you haven't been seen for three days. What's happened?"
Shuirou removed her veil with shaking fingers. Her eyes were red, rimmed with fatigue, yet she somehow looked more radiant than ever in her sorrow.
"I went to search for Concubine Lin… to see if the rumors of his kidnapping were true," she whispered.
Gasps rose around her.
"Alone?" asked ConcubineYanxue. "Without an escort?"
"I couldn't wait. I felt something in my heart... A terrible omen," Shuirou said, pausing to choke back tears. "And what I found… was not a victim."
ConcubineSheyao narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"
Shuirou sat, her hands folded in her lap like a porcelain doll, posture perfect. She let the silence drag just long enough before continuing.
"There was no struggle, nosign of captivity. Only the corpse of a loyal servant—his headnailed to the door," she said. "And inside, nothing. But the air was… thick. Black Qi hung like fog. It smelled like sulfur and ashes. No human could have lived there."
The concubines exchanged uneasy glances.
"And the worst part… I saw him. Lin Xuanji. Not bound, not wounded… but smiling. Speaking with shadows—beasts that should not exist in our world."
"Nonsense," muttered ConcubineBingruo. "You must be mistaken—he's gentle, timid. We've all seen him…"
"That's what I thought too," Shuirou said, eyes glistening. "But then I remembered: none of us know his origins. He simply appeared one day. He hides behind kindness and silence. But I saw what he truly is—something not human."
A quiet dread settled over the gathering.
ConcubineYanxue leaned forward. "Then… what do you mean to say?"
Shuirou lowered her eyes, letting her voice fall into a hush. "I believe he staged the kidnapping. I believe he's been hiding his true identity. And now… I fear he's made contact with the Demon Realm."
The words struck like lightning.
The silence that followed was heavy, and precisely what she intended.
"Of course," Shuirou added softly, "I didn't want to believe it. But… what if he's come here to infiltrate Tianxun Sect? To seduce the Emperor's trust and poison us from within?"
ConcubineMingyue paled. "The Emperor favors him. He even allowed Concubine Lin sit beside him…"
"Exactly," Shuirou said, her voice almost breaking. "We're all in danger. I didn't want to speak out, but I must protect you all. We must inform the Elder Council before it's too late."
"But if it's just your word—" ConcubineBingruo began, suspicious.
Shuirou smiled faintly, drawing a folded piece of black cloth from her sleeve. It was the servant's sash, torn and bloodied. "This belonged to my brother's man. Would I weep over nothing?"
ConcubineBingruo fell silent.
The conversation spread through the concubines' wing like oil on fire. Some feared for their safety. Others began to question Lin Xuanji's sudden rise. A few saw opportunity in aligning with Shuirou's version of events.
That night, Shuirou sent Lian'er to distribute anonymous notes to outer sect disciples and visiting scholars. Each note repeated the same carefully written lies: Concubine Lin may be a descendant of the demon clans. He is a danger to the Emperor and the sect.
The next day, whispers echoed in the training grounds.
"Did you hear? They say Lin Xuanji was never kidnapped…"
"I heard he killed a loyal guard and vanished with black fog around him."
"I saw him once in the garden… he smiled at me, but something about him felt cold."
And by evening, even the palace guards looked at each other warily.
In her private chambers, Shuirou watched the flickering shadows on her lantern-lit wall, sipping plum wine slowly, smug satisfaction hiding behind her veil of mourning.
"Let's see how long your name survives now, Lin Xuanji…" she whispered.