The safe house was quiet, tucked deep inside one of the old merchant districts where the palace's gaze never reached.
Here, the stone buildings leaned close together, and the alleyways twisted like veins through a sleeping city.
Xiao Lin sat curled up on a faded couch, a warm cup of something sweet and herbal cradled in his hands.
He stared into the swirling steam, mind racing with everything he had overheard in the gardens.
Across the room, Yan Shuo paced restlessly, checking every window and door twice before settling at the far wall, arms crossed.
It was nearly dawn by the time Sheng Long returned.
The Marshal entered silently, his black cloak pulling the shadows with him.
The moment Xiao Lin saw him, the anxious knot in his chest loosened a little.
Sheng Long didn't speak at first. He moved with deliberate care, checking their small perimeter before finally stepping inside fully and locking the door behind him.
His black eyes settled on Xiao Lin.
"You did well," Sheng Long said quietly, voice gruff from exhaustion and tension.
Xiao Lin shook his head, ears drooping slightly.
"I almost got caught... if I hadn't —"
"If you hadn't," Sheng Long interrupted, "we wouldn't know the depth of the rot."
He sat down heavily in a chair, one large hand dragging down his face in rare, visible frustration.
Yan Shuo leaned forward. "Marshal... what did you find?"
Sheng Long's jaw tightened.
"The corruption is worse than I thought. It's not just a few nobles flirting with treason. It's coordinated. There are signs of Zerg tech hidden in the palace. Possibly even implanted agents."
Yan Shuo swore under his breath.
Xiao Lin's hands tightened around his cup.
How could their beautiful empire be rotting from the inside out?
"But we can't move yet," Sheng Long continued. "Not without proof. Not without allies."
He looked at Xiao Lin then — not just as a stray they had picked up, but with the weight of real calculation.
"You are a target now," Sheng Long said bluntly.
"They won't forgive what you overheard."
Xiao Lin swallowed hard.
"Then I should help," he said before he could second-guess himself.
"I — I don't want to hide while you fight alone."
Sheng Long's expression flickered — a rare crack in his otherwise impenetrable mask.
For a moment, he looked like he might refuse.
The dragon in him wanted to hoard Xiao Lin away somewhere safe — protected, untouched.
But...
He saw the fierce light in Xiao Lin's ruby-red eyes.
Not just fear, but determination.
"You will train," Sheng Long said finally.
"Harder than before."
Xiao Lin nodded instantly.
"But," Sheng Long added sharply, "you will not rush into danger without orders. You will learn to protect yourself first. Understand?"
"Yes, Marshal," Xiao Lin said, standing a little straighter.
Yan Shuo chuckled from his spot against the wall.
"You're starting to sound like one of the academy kids," he teased Xiao Lin lightly.
Xiao Lin flushed, but he smiled too, feeling — maybe for the first time in his life — like he was part of something bigger than fear.
A knock sounded at the door — three short taps, a pause, then two more.
One of their contacts, disguised as a traveling merchant, slipped inside carrying a stack of old scrolls and battered tablets.
"News from the court," the merchant whispered.
"And rumors — very strange ones."
Sheng Long raised an eyebrow. "Strange?"
The merchant grinned grimly.
"Whispers that the Marshal is not dead. That the Black Dragon might still walk among us."
Yan Shuo stiffened.
Xiao Lin's heart thudded.
Sheng Long only smiled — cold and thin as the edge of a blade.
"Good," he said, voice low and dangerous.
"Let them wonder."
He stood, towering over the small room.
"Let the royal family tremble in their golden halls," he said.
"Because soon, their sins will be dragged into the light."
Xiao Lin stared at him — at the fierce, broken, beautiful man who carried the weight of an empire on his shoulders — and felt something inside his own heart stir.
Respect.
Admiration.
And maybe, in some hidden corner, the earliest fragile threads of something even deeper.
But for now — for tonight — there was only purpose.
The dragon had woken.
And the empire would never be the same.