The peach trees had begun to bloom.
Their soft petals drifted in the breeze like shy whispers, dancing through the imperial courtyard with a beauty too gentle for the blood-stained truths that hid beneath them.
Liang Chen sat beneath one such tree, his robes plain, his posture relaxed, but every nerve in his body was tense.
It had been three days since the Phoenix Banquet.
Three days since he had subtly maneuvered General Huo into backing the Emperor's latest reforms, three days since he'd watched Empress Dowager Xiyan look at him with quiet calculation… and three days since the Emperor—his twin brother—had begun acting strangely distant.
He hadn't summoned Liang Chen once.
That was unlike Li Tianming, who usually pulled him aside for at least one private chess game or secret discussion by sunset. Liang Chen knew his brother well. If he was keeping his distance, it wasn't mere negligence—it was caution.
Or fear.
"Third Prince," a soft voice called out.
Liang Chen turned to see Yue Mei approaching, her steps light, her dress embroidered with subtle golden cranes. She bowed slightly, eyes darting about to ensure no one watched.
"Your Highness, Lady Zhen has sent word."
Liang Chen's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Let me guess. She's uncovered something new about the Jade Tiger Society?"
Yue Mei nodded. "They've been infiltrating the Ministry of Rites. One of the scribes preparing the state documents for the next seasonal court is on their payroll."
He cursed inwardly. The Jade Tiger Society wasn't just a criminal syndicate anymore—they were threading their claws through the Imperial bureaucracy itself.
"Tell Lady Zhen to prepare the names," he said softly. "I'll have General Huo act discreetly."
"There's something else," Yue Mei said, voice dropping even lower. "The Empress Dowager has sent for the astrologer monk from Mt. Lanxu."
Liang Chen's fingers froze mid-motion, caught between plucking a petal and letting it fall.
Mt. Lanxu's monks weren't just stargazers—they were soul seers.
"They're looking for a hidden fate," he murmured. "Or someone who doesn't belong."
Yue Mei didn't respond. She didn't need to.
He stood, brushing off his robes. "Then it's time I reminded the stars who truly commands fate."
That night, Liang Chen didn't return to his chamber in the western wing. Instead, cloaked in commoner's clothes, he slipped into the servant corridors that wound through the inner palace like veins.
His destination was the Hall of Echoing Silence—where the Empress Dowager kept her private shrine and scrolls.
He'd stolen secrets from generals, played nobles like chess pieces, but tonight, he wasn't after information.
He was after proof.
Proof that someone—perhaps even his own brother—was trying to erase his very existence from the records.
Inside the Hall, lit only by moonlight spilling through carved windows, Liang Chen found an ancestral ledger. He opened it slowly, heart thudding.
Page after page listed the imperial bloodline.
Li Tianming.
Then—
He blinked.
There was no "Liang Chen."
No twin. No second son born under the same celestial sign.
His fingers trembled.
"Your Highness shouldn't be here."
The voice came from the shadows.
He turned slowly.
The monk from Mt. Lanxu stood at the doorway, his staff glowing faintly with blue inscriptions.
"Who am I?" Liang Chen asked, voice low.
The monk tilted his head. "That is not for me to answer. But the heavens are restless."
With a bow, the monk walked past him and laid a scroll on the altar.
Then he looked back.
"They say the stars once saw two dragons born of the same egg. But only one rose. The other… hid in the clouds, unseen, but not gone."
And then he left.
Liang Chen stood alone, the unspoken truth crackling in the air like lightning before a storm.
This wasn't just about the throne anymore.
Someone wanted to erase his soul from the tapestry of fate itself.