Night pressed softly over the side courtyard, where cracked tiles and a leaning pear tree told the story of neglect better than words ever could. Su Mei sat by the window, needle pausing above a torn sleeve. The candle's flame guttered, and with it her composure.
"Xun'er…" she whispered. The name trembled into the dark. "Why haven't you come home?"
Across the small table, Lin Yan lifted her head. At eight years old, her hands were deft with mending, but her eyes were too old for her years. "Mother," she said gently, "gege promised me. He said he'll become strong and take us away. He'll keep his promise."
Su Mei tried to smile and failed. Something gnawed at her—a weight behind the breastbone, like a hand pressing down. "My heart feels wrong, Yan'er. As if… as if a door has closed somewhere far away." She rose so quickly the chair scraped. "I'm going to find him."
"Mother—" Lin Yan stood too, clutching her sleeve. "It's late. The main courtyard—"
But Su Mei had already pulled the gate open. Cold night air cut across her cheeks as she stepped into the corridor. Lanterns flickered along the path to the inner compound, their light bright for some, dim for others. For her, they were dim.
She had taken only three hurried steps before a silken voice slid from the shadows.
"Sneaking out like a thief? How fitting."
Zhao Lian emerged with two servant women at her back, each holding a lantern. Her hairpins glittered; her robe's hem never touched the dust. She regarded Su Mei with languid disdain, as though observing a stain on porcelain.
Su Mei bowed, small and formal. "Second Madam, I won't cause trouble. I'm only going to look for my son."
Zhao Lian arched a brow. "Your son?" A thin smile curved her painted lips. "You mean the boy who can't even awaken his meridians? The elders discussed disowning him last month. If he has any shame, he won't come back."
"Don't speak of him like that," Su Mei said, throat tight. "Xun'er is kind. He works harder than—"
The slap cracked through the corridor. Su Mei staggered, catching herself on the wall. Warmth slid from the corner of her mouth.
"Mother!" Lin Yan flew from the doorway and flung her arms around Su Mei's waist, glaring up at Zhao Lian with tear-bright fury. "Don't touch my mother!"
Zhao Lian's lashes lowered, amused. "The stray pup bares its teeth."
Footsteps approached—Lin Chen and Lin Yue, resplendent in fresh training robes. Lin Chen snorted when he saw the scene. "Still playing at dignity, Aunt Su? Your branch should learn its place." He flicked dust from his sleeve. "If Lin Xun ran to a sect trial, they'll toss him out after he shames our name."
Lin Yue's smile was pretty and poisonous. "If he's smart, he won't even try the crystal. Imagine it—no light at all." She shivered theatrically. "I'd simply die."
Su Mei took a breath and moved to step past them.
Zhao Lian shifted, blocking the path with a rustle of silk. "Where do you think you're going? Do you expect the gate guards to let a nobody wander the city at night? You'll embarrass the clan." She gestured lazily.
One of the servant women thrust a shoulder into Su Mei's chest. Pain flared; Su Mei stumbled and fell hard to her knees. Lin Yan went down with her, small arms straining.
"That's enough!" Lin Yan's voice rang high and clear. She faced the three like a little hawk. "My brother will come back. He promised me. When he does, he'll protect us—and you'll be sorry."
For a heartbeat, the corridor stilled. The candlelight caught in the steel of her eyes, so like Lin Xun's when he set his jaw against the world.
Zhao Lian's smile thinned. "Such vulgar confidence." She flicked her sleeve. "Take them back."
The servant women reached down. Lin Yan batted their hands away and helped her mother up herself. Su Mei, breath shaking, wiped the blood from her lip with her sleeve.
"Second Madam," Su Mei said softly, meeting Zhao Lian's eyes. "Whatever you think of me, don't curse my children. Heaven hears."
Zhao Lian's laugh was soft and scornful. "If Heaven listened to you, you wouldn't live in a shack."
Lin Chen turned on his heel. "Come, sister. We have morning drills. Don't breathe this air too long—you'll catch mediocrity."
The siblings swept past. The lanterns followed them, light receding down the corridor until only the pear tree's shadow lay across the gate.
Su Mei leaned against the wall, fighting the ache in her chest. Lin Yan cupped her cheek with both hands, thumbs smudged with thread lint. "Mother, it's okay. Gege is brave. He said even if he must crawl, he'll climb the mountain."
Su Mei laughed once, broken, and drew her daughter close. "He's too good," she whispered into Lin Yan's hair. "Too good for this house."
They stood that way a long time. The wind moved through the leaves with a sound like distant rain.
At last, Lin Yan tugged her mother gently toward their door. "Let's go inside. We'll leave the gate open a crack. When gege returns, he'll see the candle and know we waited."
They relit the dying flame and set it by the window. Su Mei sat, hands clasped, eyes fixed on the courtyard. Lin Yan brewed barley tea with careful hands and pressed the warm cup into her mother's palms.
"Drink, Mother," she said. "I'll watch the gate."
Su Mei smiled, small and tired. "We'll watch together."
The hours thinned. Somewhere in the city, a watchman's clapper marked the night. Su Mei's head dipped, snapped up; dipped again. Each time, Lin Yan straightened her shoulders, refusing to sleep.
Neither of them knew that at the far mountain gate of the Azure Cloud Sect, a boy's body had gone cold on the stones. Neither knew that a thread of gold had fallen out of the sky and sunk into that still chest—that the soul of Tian Yao had found Lin Xun.
They only knew the gate was open, and the candle burned.
Su Mei closed her eyes and let a breath out like a prayer. "Xun'er, come home."
As if in answer, a wind moved through the pear leaves and sent a single petal drifting across the threshold to land at Lin Yan's feet. She picked it up, pressed it to her heart, and smiled.
"See?" she whispered. "He heard."