Midnight fell upon Shang Academy. Clouds veiled the moon, and the wind held its breath.
Zhen Zenin sat upright in bed, eyes closed, breathing steady. To any observer, he was asleep.
But in truth, he waited.
---
The window creaked open—silent to most, but not to Zenin.
A figure slipped in, cloaked in dark silk, feet gliding across the floor like a phantom. The assassin reached beneath his robe and retrieved a curved blade coated in a faint, green glow.
Zenin did not move.
The blade hovered over his heart.
And then—
Fwoosh.
The pillow exploded into dust as Zenin vanished in a swirl of white flame. The assassin stumbled back, confused.
"You're not the first," Zenin's voice whispered from the shadows.
With a burst of wind and Qi, he appeared behind the attacker, hand glowing with spiritual force.
The assassin reacted fast, blocking the strike—but not fast enough to avoid the black dust that burst from Zenin's hand.
"A soul mark," Zenin said calmly. "Run. I'll follow your trail."
Panic overtook the attacker. He launched a smoke bomb and leapt out the window.
Zenin didn't chase.
He sat down, eyes glowing faintly.
> "Every beast leaves a scent. This one leads to rot in my bloodline."
---
The next morning, Zenin visited the school infirmary—not as a patient, but to speak with a healer.
"Poison residues," the healer said, scanning the tea Zenin had saved. "High-grade, made to act slowly over days."
A cold chill settled around him.
> "They wish to see me fall during the test… disgrace me."
Zenin left quietly.
He passed several students. Some looked nervous. Others turned away.
But one watched him closely—Zhen Yun. Her fingers clenched around her robes.
---
That night, Zenin etched a note on a blank scroll and burned it in a blue flame.
> "Mother… soon, I'll let you know that I know."
---