Chapter 5 – The Whisperer in the Tea House
The faded sign creaked softly in the night breeze as the four stepped inside the dim tea house. The scent of aged wood mixed with lingering traces of jasmine and sandalwood, the air thick with stories whispered long ago and secrets long buried.
Shadows clung to every corner, casting flickering shapes from a lone oil lamp burning near the counter. Dust motes floated lazily in the golden pool of light, and the silence was heavy — waiting, watching.
Mei Lian's eyes adjusted first. "Looks like nobody's brewed tea here in years."
Yin Xue knelt beside a shattered cup, touching the cracked porcelain. "And yet, someone has been here recently."
From the far corner, a faint cough echoed. The four tensed, hands instinctively reaching for weapons.
An old man shuffled forward, his robes threadbare but his eyes sharp and gleaming. "You seek answers," he said simply, voice rasping like dry leaves.
Wen nodded. "Yes. Who is behind the Shadow Pavilion's new surge? Why are we marked?"
The old man motioned to a worn stool and sat heavily. "Long ago, a secret war began—one that the empire's histories have forgotten. The Pavilion was born from that war, a shadow army whose masters seek power beyond the throne."
Mei Lian leaned in. "And us?"
"You are the heirs to a forgotten bloodline," the old man said. "Bound to a legacy that can tip the scales."
Shen Rui scoffed lightly. "Sounds like a story for children."
The old man smiled thinly. "Perhaps. But stories are how truth hides."
He reached beneath the counter, pulling out a faded scroll. "Within these lines lies a prophecy — a warning. The time of awakening is near, and with it, the final battle."
Yin Xue studied the scroll, tracing delicate characters with her fingers. "If this is true, we're in far deeper than an exam or a mark."
The old man nodded. "You have little time."