Morning light had barely touched the courtyard when Heaven decided to hold interviews.
They called it The Questioning.
Which sounded polite — until you realized the room they used had no windows and too many chairs.
When I arrived, the air inside felt heavy, thick with spiritual pressure. A single mirror stood behind the table, faintly humming.
Inspector Rui sat on one side, back straight as a blade.
Envoy Yue sat beside him, hands folded neatly.
Shen Qianhe stood near the far wall, silent.
They didn't need three people to ask questions.
They just wanted the room to look like truth had nowhere to hide.
"Assistant Lin," Yue said softly. "Please sit."
I sat.
"Do you understand why you're here?" she asked.
"Because I alphabetize too efficiently?" I offered.
Rui's pen twitched, probably from pain. Yue's eyes didn't move, but I swear I saw a flicker of amusement behind the calm.
"We are reviewing recent reports," she said. "Your handwriting is—impressive."
"Thank you. I practice while panicking."
She tilted her head. "Do you panic often?"
"Only when people ask."
Rui cleared his throat. "Envoy Yue, perhaps we should begin."
They started with easy questions.
Routine. Formal.
"When did you last see the Sect Master outside official hours?"
"How many times have you entered the vault since the incident?"
"Have you observed unusual activity among disciples?"
Each one was a needle.
Each answer, a careful thread.
I kept my voice even, my hands still on the table. The trick to lying is not to move too little — it's to breathe like the truth still belongs to you.
When I said I hadn't seen anything strange, Shen Qianhe's gaze flicked to me — a small glance, unreadable.
I didn't look back.
Then Yue asked quietly, "You handle communication with Heaven. Do you ever disagree with their orders?"
The air in the room changed.
Rui looked up. Shen Qianhe's expression didn't shift, but the air around him grew colder.
I smiled. "Only in private."
"And what do you do with that disagreement?"
"Convert it into improved handwriting."
Her lips curved just slightly. "You answer like someone who's practiced this before."
"Practice makes survival," I said.
Rui leaned forward. "You were seen near the meditation chamber three nights ago."
"Correct."
"Why?"
"To relight the candle."
"Why was it out?"
"Candles tend to do that," I said. "Flames are fickle."
He frowned. "There was residual energy at the scene."
I blinked innocently. "I burn very devotedly?"
Even Shen Qianhe's mouth twitched at that.
Yue watched me for a long, silent moment. "You're clever, Assistant Lin."
"Efficiency," I said weakly.
Finally, Yue set her pen down. "That will be all for now."
I stood, bowing. "Thank you for your patience."
As I turned to leave, Shen Qianhe's voice stopped me.
"Assistant Lin."
I froze. "Yes, Sect Master?"
"Return after dusk," he said quietly. "We'll review the ledgers together."
I nodded. "Of course."
When I glanced at Yue, she was still watching me — eyes calm, mouth neutral, but something sharp glittered beneath that stillness.
Like she already knew what I was hiding.
And was simply enjoying the wait.
Outside, the mist was lifting.
Disciples whispered along the walkways — half rumor, half fear.
Heaven's flags hung unmoving, as if listening.
I took the long path back to the inner hall, feeling the weight of their gazes on my back.
That evening, when I entered the Sect Master's office, he didn't look up from the papers.
"You handled yourself well," he said simply.
"Thank you."
"But not well enough to go unnoticed."
I hesitated. "She suspects me?"
"She suspects everyone," he said. "But you, especially, make people curious."
"Because I alphabetize too much?"
"Because you don't break under pressure."
I tried to laugh. "I'm very bendable."
He finally looked up. His eyes were calm, but not cold. "You shouldn't have been in the meditation chamber that night."
The candle flame beside us flickered.
I met his gaze. "I know."
"Then why?"
"Because," I said softly, "sometimes quiet places need company."
He studied me for a long moment. Then he said, "Be careful who you keep company with, Assistant Lin."
Later, alone in my room, I opened the window to let the air in.
Clouds were rising again, silver and heavy.
Below the mountain, I could see faint lights moving — Heaven's patrols spreading further down the valleys.
They were closing the circle.
And somewhere in the stillness, the relic stirred again — faint, like a heartbeat remembering how to beat.