The morning sun spilled gold over the lake, scattering light across the rippling water where the divine lotus floated in quiet splendor. The air still carried the echoes of last night's chimes, and the priests murmured blessings, their relief almost tangible.
From the misted surface, Akira emerged, robes heavy with water, yet his steps measured and steady. The court erupted into hushed cheers and reverent bows, for the long-awaited bloom had finally graced the divine lake.
But the Emperor raised a single hand, and at once the celebration stilled. Reluctantly, ministers, attendants, and guards lowered their heads and fell silent.
The air hung heavy, expectant, until even the ripples of the lake seemed to pause. His gaze lingered on Akira—damp robes clinging to his frame, the veil hiding his expression, before he gave a quiet signal.
"Did the ritual go well?" the emperor asked, his tone measured.
One of the elder monks stepped forward, his prayer beads clicking softly as he bowed. "Your Majesty… the bloom occurred even before the final chants were completed."
The emperor's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Is that so?"
"Yes," the monk replied, voice hushed with reverence. "I believe the Supreme has finally been appeased."
A long silence followed. Then the emperor exhaled slowly, his hands folding behind his back. "Good. Prepare the celebrations immediately. Let no hour be wasted."
The monk bowed deeply, and the order rippled outward. The ministers stirred, attendants hurried off, and the gathered crowd withdrew, their voices hushed in excitement.
The emperor turned his head once more, his eyes searching for his son. But Akira shifted ever so slightly, turning his veiled face away.
The emperor's gaze lingered a moment longer before he muttered under his breath, too soft for anyone else to hear.
"…Strange. Too soon." His eyes flicked to the lotus, still glowing faintly in the morning light.
"Something isn't as it should be." He said this and turned to leave.
As he stepped away, he caught sight of Zuzu running toward the lake, nearly stumbling over his own feet as he reached the lake's edge. His hands trembled as he held out the prince's mask with both hands, chest heaving. "Y–Your Highness…!"
Akira took it without a word, slipping the mask into place.
Zuzu bent forward, catching his breath, then blurted, "You must be tired…"
"I'm not tired," Akira replied flatly.
Zuzu blinked up at him. "Are you sure you aren't?"
Before Akira could answer, a calm voice cut in from behind.
"Are you sure?"
Both turned to see Daita approaching, hands tucked into his sleeves, steps unhurried. His gaze swept past them, landing on the luminous divine lotus swaying gently on the water.
Stopping before Akira, he tilted his head slightly. "You poured out all of your spiritual strength. And yet you insist you're not tired?"
Akira's lips curved faintly beneath the mask. "If I admitted exhaustion, he'd never let me hear the end of it."
Daita smirked, tilting his head toward Zuzu. "True. This mule bag would probably parade you through the streets as proof the crown prince is still human after all."
Zuzu gave a nervous laugh, unsure if he should agree.
But then Daita's tone shifted, a note of thoughtfulness threading through his words. He gestured toward the lake. "Still… don't you find it strange? Last time, it took five god-pleasing rituals. Before that, seven. But this year…" His eyes narrowed at the glowing bloom. "…not even one."
Silence lingered.
"What has changed the will of the Supreme this year? Isn't he usually too stubborn to be pleased?"
Akira exhaled slowly, lifting his head. The morning sky stretched above, pale gold bleeding into the fading stars.
"I wonder," he murmured, voice distant. "What's going on up there…"
"Heavens?" Daita followed his gaze.
————
"Heavens!!! Is this what the Inner Sector actually is…?!" Astra shouted, spinning in a circle.
Seiya, eyes wide as saucers, nodded furiously. "It's so—so shimmering!"
The wide marble avenues gleamed beneath a rain of golden petals drifting from silken banners strung across rooftops. Lanterns of jade and pearl floated above the crowds, their glow shimmering like fallen stars. Processions of dancers in embroidered silks swept past, trailing ribbons that shimmered with divine charms. Towering mansions rose on either side—pillars carved with dragons, phoenixes, and clouds, their roofs catching the sun in dazzling bursts.
"Hey, Seiya!" Astra gasped, pointing wildly. "Is that mansion roof… made of gold?!"
"HUH?! Where, where?!" Seiya hopped, craning his neck in every direction. "Wait—no, over there! That one's glowing too! Are all the roofs made of gold?!"
The nobles in embroidered robes walking past gave them sidelong glances, fans half-raised to hide smirks. Children whispered. A merchant muttered, "Are they drunk already…?" Another replied dryly, "At this hour? Must be."
"Waaah! Look, Astra! That man's hawking candied lotuses on sticks—candied lotuses! Not apples, not plums, LOTUSES!" Seiya bolted toward the stall before being yanked back by his collar by Shion.
Shion's face was dark, one hand pressed firmly over his forehead. "These idiots…" he muttered under his breath. "Can't they shut their mouths and walk like some nobles? Ever since we stepped foot in here, they've completely lost their minds. Running around, gawking at roofs, screaming about lotus candy...poking the guard's halberds like they were toys, asking random nobles if their clothes were heavenly silk, trying to climb the dragon fountain for a better view—" He groaned. "Astra nearly fell in, and Seiya actually tried to drink from it, saying holy water must taste different."
His eye twitched. "And don't even get me started on how they both bowed to a street performer, thinking he was a priest. The man was juggling cabbages! IDIOTS!"
He tightened his grip on Seiya's collar. "At this rate they'll be thrown in prison for disturbing the peace of celebration. And if anyone dares ask me if I know them…" He exhaled through his nose, looking skyward with saintly patience. "I might just say no."
Seirou trudged behind, face pale with quiet despair. "…I regret sharing the same face as him," he muttered, jerking a thumb at Seiya. "I can't even deny it."
"You owl prince—" Seiya started, but his words were cut short when Astra's shriek cut through the festival noise.
"HEAVENS!!! LOOK AT THAT!!!"
"Seiyaaa! Come over here!"
Shion's grip slipped as Seiya wriggled free like a fish, straightening his collar with exaggerated dignity. "I'll deal with you later."
And just like that, he marched off toward Astra, who was bouncing in front of a relic shop glittering with jade talismans and golden ornaments.
Shion pinched the bridge of his nose. "…Glad there's celebration noise covering them. If this were a normal day, they'd already be rotting in a cell for public disturbance." His eyes swept the crowd, sharp even in exasperation. "Where are the rest? Ryoma, Kaen, and that kid?"
"They went to meet someone," Seirou answered without looking up.
"Madam… Hua?" Shion said after a beat, voice low.
Seirou nodded once.
Shion's lips curved wryly as he flipped his flute into his hand. "Heard enough rumors about her. Didn't think I'd actually get to see the woman in person very soon. If they're planning to stay under her roof…" He sighed, dragging his words like a death sentence. "…we won't survive. Especially not with you three masters of mayhem."
Seirou bristled. "Why include me?"
Shion smirked and spun the flute lazily between his fingers before strolling ahead. "Guilt by resemblance."
"…Huh?"
Meanwhile,
The Hua mansion loomed before them, its gilded roof catching the light and casting shimmering patterns across the cobblestone courtyard. Xue's eyes were wide, jaw slack, utterly flabbergasted.
Ryoma glanced at Kaen, who was standing stiffly, hands folded in front of him, a rare nervousness flickering in his eyes. "Are you sure about this?" Ryoma asked quietly. "We could find somewhere else to stay… if you're unsure."
Kaen shook his head gently. "No. I don't think there's a better place than this. Lady Hua's residence is… fitting."
Ryoma gave a slow nod. At that moment, the great gates creaked open, and a servant stepped forward, bowing politely. "Lady Hua has granted you entry. Please, this way."
They both inclined their heads and followed, stepping into the expansive foyer. Polished marble floors reflected the intricate carvings along the walls, and the scent of incense lingered softly in the air.
A second servant approached, gesturing toward a seating area. "If you would kindly wait here, I will inform Lady Hua of your arrival."
Ryoma and Kaen exchanged a brief glance, then settled into the carved chairs, while Xue clutched Kaen's sleeve, still staring around in awe at the grandeur surrounding them.
Ryoma's gaze lingered on Kaen, noticing the subtle tension in his posture. "Kaen… are you sure about this?" he asked quietly.
Kaen drew a slow breath and nodded, though a shadow of hesitation flickered across his face. "I'm sure… it's just…" His voice dropped, barely above a whisper. "It's been so many years since I last saw her. I don't think she'll recognize me. The last time we sent her a letter… that was eight years ago."
Before Ryoma could respond, soft yet deliberate footsteps echoed from the hallway beyond the foyer.
The three of them turned as a graceful figure emerged, accompanied by three maids who flitted behind her like shadows. The woman was middle-aged, calm yet radiating a quiet elegance, every step measured and deliberate.
Her eyes landed on them, widening for a moment. Recognition dawned, and suddenly her pace quickened. She broke into a run, skirts flowing, and reached Kaen in an instant.
"Aiyue!" she murmured, voice trembling with emotion as she closed the distance, wrapping him in a tight, unrestrained embrace.