Lin Feng's arm throbbed where the guard's blade had grazed him. The cut was a sharp reminder of Prince Zhao's trap in the eastern archive. He crouched in his courtyard, hidden by the shadow of a gnarled plum tree, its blossoms wilting under the morning sun. The Tianyu Palace buzzed with activity, servants whispering about the Third Prince's latest move. Zhao had seen the Jade Pendant's glow, and felt the black jade gate's tremor—enough to drag Lin Feng before the court. The bells tolled, summoning all to the Hall of Celestial Harmony. A trial loomed, and Lin Feng, the scorned Fifth Prince, was its target.
He clutched his sketches, the AI-powered waterwheel design smudged but intact. The idea could save the western provinces from drought, but to the court, he was just a cripple meddling in forbidden halls. The Jade Pendant hung heavy against his chest, its warmth pulsing like a distant drum. You reacted last night, he thought, tracing its cracked runes. What are you hiding? No answers came, but the heat steadied him. He had to face the court, not as a victim, but as a prince with a plan.
The Hall of Celestial Harmony was a sea of silk robes and cold stares. Golden pillars carved with dragons loomed over the gathered nobles, their murmurs sharp as knives. Emperor Tianlong sat on the Jade Throne, his face a mask of stern authority, his Qi aura pressing the air like a storm. Lin Feng knelt, his head bowed, as Zhao stepped forward, his golden robes glinting. "Father," Zhao said, his voice smooth as venom, "the Fifth Prince has trespassed into the eastern archives, tampering with sacred scrolls. I caught him myself, wielding some unnatural powers. He defies our laws."
Gasps rippled through the court. Lin Feng's jaw tightened. Zhao was twisting the truth, painting him as a thief or worse—a sorcerer. He glanced at the crowd, spotting Li Xiyue among the nobles, her jade hairpin catching the light, her eyes unreadable. Su Mei stood near the back, her white robe stark against the opulence, her gaze icy but fixed on him. Elder Mo lingered on a pillar, his scarred face grim. Allies or watchers? He couldn't tell, but he wouldn't let Zhao's lies bury him.
"Speak, Fifth Prince," the Emperor's voice boomed, heavy with judgment. "What defense do you offer?"
Lin Feng rose, his tattered robe a stark contrast to Zhao's splendor. "I sought knowledge, not power," he said, his voice steady. "The western provinces starve, their rivers dry. I found scrolls by Qi springs, plans to bring water back. If that's a crime, then I'm guilty of wanting to serve." He held up his sketches, the waterwheel's lines bold despite the smudges. "This could save lives. Judge me for that, not Zhao's tale."
The court erupted in whispers. Zhao's smirk faltered, but he recovered fast. "Lies! He's a cripple with no IQ, yet the archive's gate shook under his touch. What dark art does he hide?"
Lin Feng's heart raced. The pendant's glow had betrayed him, but he couldn't explain it—not yet. "No dark arts," he said, meeting the Emperor's gaze. "Just a prince trying to prove his worth. Or does Third Brother fear a cripple's ideas more than his own?"
A few nobles chuckled, and Zhao's face was reddened. The Emperor raised a hand, silencing the hall. "Bold words, Lin Feng, but trespassing is no small matter. Prove your intent, or face banishment. The West's drought is a royal concern. Present a solution at the next assembly, three days hence, or leave the capital."
The decree hit like a blade. Three days to turn sketches into reality, with no qi and a court ready to pounce. Lin Feng bowed, hiding his clenched fists. "As you command, Father." The words burned, but they were his only shield.
As the court dispersed, Li Xiyue approached, her silks whispering. "That was reckless, Fifth Prince," she said. Her voice was low, a merchant's smile on her lips. "But bold". My family trades in the west. I can get you materials—wood, jade, maybe Qi crystals—for your… waterwheel. In return, I want a stake in its success."
Lin Feng studied her, wary. Her jasmine scent reminded him of the archive's stranger, but her offer was a lifeline. "Why help a disgraced prince?" he asked.
Her smile sharpens. "Because a spark can start a fire, and I bet on winners. Don't disappoint me." She turned, leaving him with more questions than answers.
Outside, Su Mei waited, her sword glinting in the sunlight. "You're stirring a hornet's nest," she said. Her voice was cold but not unkind. "Zhao's allies are moving. Watch your back, Fifth Prince." She vanished into the crowd before he could reply. Her words sent a chill down his spine.
Lin Feng returned to his courtyard, the pendant pulsing hot now, as if sensing the stakes. He spread his sketches, his mind racing. The waterwheel needed a Qi array to channel spiritual energy, but he had no cultivation to test it. The archive held answers, but returning them risked more traps. Elder Mo's warning about his mother echoed—"Be careful it doesn't consume you." Did the pendant hold the key, or was it luring him to ruin?
A shadow moved toward the courtyard's edge. Lin Feng tensed, expecting Zhao's goons, but it was Elder Mo, his faded armor creaking. "You're in deep, boy," the old general said, tossing him a small scroll. "Your mother left you this. Said it was for when you faced a wall. Read it, but don't trust it blindly."
Lin Feng unrolled the scroll, its edges worn. A single line in his mother's hand read: "The Star Key wakes with will." His eyes flickered to the pendant, its warmth flaring. Is this what you mean, Mother?
As night fell, the palace lanterns glowed, but danger loomed ever closer. Zhao's allies whispered, and the archive's black jade gate waited. Lin Feng gripped the pendant, the resolve hardening. Three days to defy a court, a prince, and fate itself. He'd make them see.