The moon hung low over the Jade Dragon Mountain, its silver light weaving through the palace's chrysanthemum gardens, where petals trembled in the autumn breeze. Lin Feng moved silently along the shadowed paths of the Tianyu Palace, his tattered robe blending with the night. The weight of the Royal Assembly's jeers still clung to him, each mocking laugh a stone upon his heart. Yet, beneath the pain, a spark of resolve flickered—a modern mind in an ancient world, determined to carve its own fate.
The eastern wing of the palace loomed ahead, its lacquered gates weathered by time, forgotten since his mother's death. The archive within, rumored to hold scrolls from the kingdom's founding, was his destination. If he could find knowledge there—on qi, on the land, on anything—he might turn the court's scorn to dust. But the path was not without peril; guards patrolled even this neglected corner, and a disgraced prince had no right to trespass.
Lin Feng pressed himself against a jade pillar, its cool surface grounding his racing thoughts. His engineer's mind churned, recalling principles of stealth and timing from a life left behind. A machine is only as strong as its weakest gear, he thought. I must be precise. He waited, counting the guards' steps—ten paces north, a pause, ten paces south. When the lantern's glow faded around a corner, he darted forward, slipping through the gate's rusted lock with a hairpin he'd kept from his mother's belongings.
The eastern archive was a cavern of shadows, its air thick with the scent of aged paper and sandalwood. Shelves of bamboo scrolls stretched into the darkness, their titles etched in faded gold. Lin Feng's breath caught; this was a treasure trove, unguarded only by neglect. He lit a small oil lamp, its flame casting a trembling glow, and began his search. Scrolls on cultivation techniques mocked his crippled meridians, their diagrams of qi flow a language he could not yet speak. Others detailed the Tianyu Kingdom's history—its spiritual veins, its droughts, its wars.
His fingers brushed the Jade Pendant at his chest, its warmth pulsing faintly, as if stirred by the archive's secrets. Mother, did you know what this holds? he wondered, tracing its cracked surface. The pendant had been her final gift, given with a trembling hand and a whispered promise: "It will guide you when all else fails." Tonight, it seemed to hum, though no voice or vision came. Lin Feng shook his head, dismissing the sensation. He had no time for mysteries; knowledge was his weapon now.
Hours passed as he pored over scrolls, his engineer's mind piecing together fragments. The western provinces, plagued by drought, suffered from rivers diverted by ancient wars. An irrigation system, simple yet precise, could restore their fields. He sketched ideas on a scrap of silk—channels, levers, perhaps a waterwheel powered by the kingdom's abundant qi springs. The concept was rudimentary, but it was a start, a spark of hope in a world that saw him as nothing.
A faint rustle broke his focus. Lin Feng extinguished the lamp, his heart pounding. Footsteps echoed, soft but deliberate, from the archive's depths. He crouched behind a shelf, peering through the gloom. A figure emerged, cloaked in white, her presence like a winter breeze. Su Mei, the Ice Phoenix of the Northern Sect, stood beneath a shaft of moonlight, her sword gleaming at her side. Her eyes, sharp as frost, scanned the room, pausing where Lin Feng hid.
"Why does a disgraced prince skulk in forbidden halls?" Her voice was cold, yet laced with curiosity, like a blade testing its edge.
Lin Feng's mind raced. Exposure here could mean punishment, perhaps banishment. Yet, her gaze held no malice, only a question. He stepped forward, meeting her eyes. "Knowledge is no crime, Lady Su. Even a cripple seeks to serve his kingdom."
Her brow arched, a flicker of surprise breaking her icy mask. "Serve? Or scheme?" She stepped closer, her aura pressing against him, though his sealed meridians felt only a chill. "The court laughs, but you carry a fire they do not see."
Lin Feng held her gaze, his voice steady. "Let them laugh. Fire grows in silence."
Su Mei studied him, then turned, her white robes vanishing into the shadows. "Tread carefully, Fifth Prince. The palace has eyes." Her words lingered, a warning and a puzzle.
As dawn's first light crept through the archive's windows, Lin Feng gathered his sketches and slipped out, the Jade Pendant warm against his chest. The court's scorn awaited, but so did his resolve. This fire will burn brighter than they know.