Chapter 2 – Ink and Shadows
The exam courtyard, which had roared with whispered tension only moments before, now fell into a disquieting hush. The last strokes of ink dried on paper as weary students slowly gathered their belongings, their faces pale from the hours of arduous writing. The air was thick with the scent of ink and dust, blending with the faint aroma of blooming peach blossoms carried on a soft breeze.
Mei Lian stretched her cramped fingers, wincing slightly. "My hand feels as if it might fall off. Who knew a simple essay could twist my fingers into knots?" Her voice held a mixture of frustration and dry humor as she rubbed her wrist.
Shen Rui smiled gently, leaning closer. "You always dive in headfirst, Lian. But you survived, and that's what counts."
Mei Lian narrowed her eyes playfully. "Only barely. I thought I'd be disqualified for my temper alone. That question about the Four Gentlemen was a trap!"
Yin Xue, ever composed, brushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Difficult questions are designed to test more than knowledge. They test character."
Mei Lian rolled her eyes but smiled despite herself. "Character, huh? You sound like a proctor."
Liang Wen, who had been quietly collecting his papers, straightened and joined the group. His dark eyes scanned the courtyard thoughtfully. "The questions were challenging but fair. Those who passed today will be ready for what lies ahead."
Mei Lian glanced at Wen. "What exactly lies ahead, I wonder?"
Wen's gaze hardened slightly but he said nothing. Instead, he moved toward the ancient peach tree at the courtyard's center, its branches still heavy with pale blossoms despite the late hour. As he reached the tree, something black caught his eye beneath its roots—a small scrap of silk, frayed at the edges. Carefully, he picked it up and held it between his fingers.
The fabric was jet black, embroidered with a single silver Chinese character: 忠 — Loyalty.
"Look at this," Wen said, turning the silk toward the others. "This isn't just a scrap of cloth. It's a mark."
Mei Lian frowned, stepping closer. "A mark of what?"
Before Wen could answer, a sudden movement caught his eye—a shadow flickering at the edge of the courtyard walls. Quick as a blink, it vanished over the rooftops, leaving only a chill in the air.
"What was that?" Mei Lian asked, her fiery temperament flaring as she scanned the shadows.
Wen shook his head. "I don't know. But it wasn't a trick of the light."
Suddenly, the sharp sound of a carriage horn shattered the stillness. The four turned as a lacquered black carriage pulled through the gate, its two horses snorting impatiently. The emblem on the door — a golden spear crossed with a bow — marked the carriage as belonging to the Minister of War.
The door swung open, and a tall man in polished black armor stepped down. His eyes locked onto Wen immediately.
"Liang Wen," the man said sternly. "You are to come with us."
Mei Lian's temper flared instantly. "And who are you to command us without explanation?"
The soldier's gaze flicked to her. "This is not a matter for outsiders."
Shen Rui stepped forward, his easy smile not quite reaching his eyes. "We came here together, and we'll leave together. That's how it is."
Yin Xue's serene voice joined him. "Our fates are tied."
The soldier hesitated, then nodded. "Very well. You will ride as one."
The group exchanged glances, understanding the gravity of the moment.
The carriage door opened, revealing a dark interior lined with silk cushions. Wen placed the scrap of silk carefully on the seat beside him, his mind racing.
As the carriage moved through the city gates, the landscape shifted from bustling markets to the quiet grandeur of the imperial district. The horses' hooves clattered over the cobblestones, echoing in Wen's ears as he stared out the window.
After passing through the grand gates, the carriage halted at a fortified compound guarded by soldiers in gleaming armor. The four were led inside a vast courtyard where servants bustled between buildings carrying scrolls and tea trays.
In the main hall, beneath flickering bronze lamps, waited a man in a deep blue robe — the Minister of War, Liang Zhen. Wen's breath caught as he recognized the older man's face, carved with lines of duty and weariness.
"You shouldn't have come," the Minister said flatly.
Wen met his gaze evenly. "I was not given a choice."
Liang Zhen's eyes flicked to the silk scrap Wen held. "Where did you find that?"
"By the peach tree."
The Minister's face darkened. "That is the mark of the Shadow Pavilion — assassins for hire who serve no master but coin. If their emblem appears here, it means someone intended you for death… or to send a message."
Mei Lian's fists clenched. "Assassins at an exam? Ridiculous."
"Dangerous," Liang Zhen replied gravely. "Examinations decide futures — and sometimes, a future must be cut short before it begins."
Just then, a servant burst in with urgent news. "My lord, the border forts have fallen silent."
The Minister's eyes narrowed. "The song has begun again."
Wen swallowed hard, the weight of unseen battles settling over them all.