The boutique was small, tucked between a silk shop and a tea house.
From the street, it looked harmless.
Li Wei froze when he saw her.
His mother.
The Imperial Concubine—face veiled, posture graceful—slipped inside like a shadow.
Mother? Here?
He moved closer to the wooden lattice, Leena and Chen Yu trailing behind him.
Through the gaps, he saw a low table lit by a single flickering candle.
An old man with gnarled hands shuffled strange cards.
A hushed voice drifted out.
"…the prince… danger…"
Leena leaned closer, holding her breath.
"…blood… must choose…"
Then a pause.
And his mother's voice, sharp with fear:
"…Should I… kill?"
Li Wei's stomach turned to ice.
That was enough.
He turned abruptly, placing himself between Leena and the window.
"We shouldn't be here," he said, his tone clipped.
"It's disrespectful to spy on the Imperial Mother. Let's go back to the palace."
Leena blinked.
"…But it sounded like—"
"It's late," he cut her off, his voice low and firm.
"Now."
Reluctantly, she followed.
Chen Yu muttered under his breath, but even he didn't dare argue.
That night, the palace lanterns flickered against the dark sky.
But Li Wei's thoughts burned hotter than any flame.
He returned to the boutique alone, cloak blending into the streets.
Inside, the old fortune-teller sat waiting, as if he had known he would come.
"You've come," he rasped.
His eyes gleamed like wet stones.
Li Wei didn't sit.
"My mother was here. What did you tell her?"
The man hesitated, then laid a card face-up: a black crane flying over a blood-red moon.
"Your mother fears the sign of the crane…
The beauty in your palace… brings the shadow of death.
Only a river of blood can change the ending."
Li Wei's chest tightened.
He thought of Leena's laugh under the cherry blossoms.
Of her small, trembling hands giving him the jade pendant.
His voice was a whisper of steel.
"No one… touches her."
The old man only smiled faintly.
"Then, Your Highness, prepare to fight both fate… and family."