Chapter 4 – Before the Peach Blossoms
The note felt heavier than it should. Wen held it in his palm, his eyes scanning the short message again and again, as if some hidden meaning might appear between the strokes of ink.
Leave before dawn. Follow the peach blossoms.
Mei Lian peered over his shoulder. "That's it? No signature? No helpful map pointing the way?"
Shen Rui grinned faintly. "Maybe the blossoms are the map. We just have to know where to look."
Yin Xue's gaze lingered on the last line. "Peach blossoms… the season's just begun. There are only a few trees in bloom."
Wen tucked the note into his sleeve. "And the Minister's gardens have three such trees—one in the eastern court, one in the south corridor, and one at the outer wall near the servants' gate."
Mei Lian's brow furrowed. "Outer wall sounds promising."
Shen Rui stretched lazily against the courtyard pillar. "Promising, yes… but heavily guarded."
The conversation faded as the soft crunch of footsteps drew near. A soldier's shadow swept across the latticed doors. They froze until the sound passed, replaced by the distant clink of armor.
Mei Lian exhaled slowly. "We can't just stroll out the front. If we're leaving, it has to be quiet. Silent. Like shadows."
Wen gave her a faint smile. "Think you can manage that?"
She smirked. "I was slipping past curfews before you learned how to tie your hair ribbon."
Yin Xue spoke softly, her tone cautious. "We don't even know if the note is a trap. The Shadow Pavilion could be luring us into an ambush."
"They could," Wen agreed. "But if they wanted us dead, they had the chance earlier today. This… feels different. Urgent."
That night stretched longer than it should have. Every gust of wind against the paper windows sounded like footsteps; every creak of the wooden beams felt like a hand reaching out from the dark.
When the moon hung low, its pale light just brushing the tiled roofs, Wen rose from his bed. The others were already awake, their eyes reflecting the same decision.
They dressed in silence. No one wore anything bright; even Mei Lian had chosen a muted grey tunic. Wen wrapped the note in a scrap of cloth and tied it around his wrist beneath the sleeve.
They slipped into the courtyard, each step measured, breath controlled. The guards' patrols were predictable—two men every twenty paces, circling the outer walls like clockwork.
At the eastern court, the first peach blossom tree came into view. Its pale flowers swayed in the cool air, scattering a few petals to the ground. But the path from there curved back toward the main hall—too close to the Minister's chambers.
They kept moving.
The second tree stood at the southern corridor, its blossoms tinged faintly with pink. Yin Xue paused there, touching one of the petals. "Not this one," she whispered. "Too many lanterns. Too bright."
They turned west, heading toward the outer wall. The third peach tree rose before them, its trunk thick, its branches heavy with pale blooms that glowed under the moonlight.
And there, almost hidden in the shadows at its base, was a narrow gate—the kind servants used to bring in supplies from the river road.
Shen Rui crouched, running his fingers over the latch. "Locked from the outside. Someone doesn't want this opened without permission."
Mei Lian knelt beside him. "Or… they want to make sure only certain people can open it." She reached into her boot, pulling out a thin metal pick.
Within moments, the latch clicked softly.
Beyond the gate was a narrow path winding along the outer wall. On either side, the peach blossoms formed a pale arch overhead. Petals drifted down like snow, catching in their hair, clinging to their sleeves.
"This is too perfect," Shen Rui muttered. "It's like a poem about to end badly."
But they kept moving. The path curved toward a small wooden bridge over a stream, its water glinting in the moonlight. On the far side, a hooded figure waited, hands clasped in front.
Wen slowed, his hand hovering near the dagger hidden at his belt.
The figure spoke without lifting their head. "You're late."
"Who are you?" Wen asked.
"A friend," the figure replied. "And if you want to keep breathing, you'll follow me now."
Mei Lian took a step forward, chin raised. "Not until you tell us where you're leading us."
The figure's hood shifted slightly. "Do you know what the Pavilion does to those who linger after being marked?"
"Maybe we'd like to hear it in your words," Shen Rui said lightly, though his eyes stayed sharp.
The figure sighed, as if dealing with stubborn children. "They don't strike immediately. They wait. They watch. They let you think you've escaped—until you've forgotten to be afraid. That's when they end it."
Yin Xue's voice was barely above a whisper. "You're saying the mark is already on us."
"Yes," the figure said. "And if you return to the compound, you won't see the next sunrise."
The four exchanged glances. The bridge creaked under the shifting weight of their hesitation.
Wen finally nodded. "Lead the way."
They crossed the bridge, petals scattering under their feet. The hooded figure moved quickly, slipping through narrow paths between warehouses and along the edge of the river, where fishing boats swayed gently.
At last, they stopped before a shuttered tea house, its sign faded, its door half-hanging from the frame. The figure pushed it open and gestured inside.
"This is where we part," they said. "Inside, you'll find someone who can tell you why the Pavilion is watching you."
Mei Lian's eyes narrowed. "And why should we trust you?"
The figure paused, then reached into their sleeve and pulled out a small wooden token carved with a peach blossom. "Because I'm already dead to them. And soon, you will be too—unless you listen."
With that, they vanished into the shadows, leaving the scent of sandalwood behind.