Li Xiu's night in the herbal archives was haunted by unease. Lantern light flickered across parchment and dried herbs as she pored over her antidote journals, retracing her own words. Something was missing. The pages on snakebites and nightshade cures were ragged and torn, as if snatched from her very hands. Her heart tightened – this theft was no accident. It meant someone was reading her secrets, someone inside the palace.
Clutching the remnants of her notes, Li Xiu crept from the archives and ventured into the servants' wing below. Rumors had whispered of strange movements in the lower palace: hushed voices after curfew, unmarked crates arriving under cover of darkness. She followed the gossip like a hunter tracking prey. In the dim corridors outside the kitchens she overheard a pair of maids trading fearful glances. "…heard shouting by the storeroom," one muttered. "Footsteps outside the forbidden gardens," the other added, wiping her hands on a soiled apron. Li Xiu pressed closer, careful to remain unseen as she pieced their words together.
Moonlight shifted on the polished tile as the maids parted and hurried away. Li Xiu slipped into the storeroom they had mentioned, heart pounding. Shelves of dried herbs and bottled tinctures loomed in the dusty darkness. Her fingers brushed against a crate marked only with incense residue – exactly what the rumors had claimed. Taking a breath, she yanked open the lid. Inside lay nothing but common linens and preserved tea leaves. A cold disappointment washed over her. The trail was false. Whoever fed her the rumor had led her here on purpose.
Still, Li Xiu's eyes caught something glinting in the low lantern light. On the floor beneath the shelf she found a small jade token, the color of bruised green-blue night. It was carved with a curling serpent encircling a lotus blossom – the same symbol she had found etched on the torn page of her stolen notes. Her pulse quickened. This was no random trinket; it was a calling card. Whoever had taken her antidote notes left this mark as a sign. It pointed her toward one man: Huajie, the foreign alchemist known for cunning riddles and dangerous knowledge. Only someone like Huajie would dare leave a clue so bold.
Li Xiu tucked the token into her sleeve. The night deepened outside, lanterns in the windows blinking like watchful eyes. Across the palace, torches in the garden court began to flicker out. She knew where she must go. After fulfilling her duties with quiet haste, Li Xiu made her excuses and slipped out of the palace toward the old botanical greenhouse. It lay half-forgotten at the end of the kitchen gardens – a glass-walled maze crammed with exotic plants, sealed for years since its botanist had vanished. Many said it was haunted by overgrown vines and poisonous blooms. Tonight it would be her refuge.
By midnight, Li Xiu stood before the greenhouse's wrought-iron door. Moonlight pooled in the glass panels, casting distorted shadows of the climbing vines within. The heavy padlock that guarded the door was carved with strange runes. Li Xiu set her satchel down and examined the lock. A voice hissed softly from the darkness behind the door. "So you have come. The Queen's poisoner at my door."
Li Xiu's hand flew to her dagger as the padlock clicked of its own accord. "Show yourself," she called, voice steady despite her racing heart.
From inside the greenhouse came the scuff of leather and a slender shadow slipping away from the moonlit panes. A low laugh echoed around her. "Calm, Li Xiu. If you had no quarrel with death, you would not stand before this door."
Taking a careful step back, Li Xiu recognized the voice as Huajie's – cultured, sly, and just tinged with amusement. She drew a slow breath. "Why did you summon me here?" she demanded. "What games do you play?"
The glass door swung open silently. Inside, the greenhouse was suffused with a damp, earthy scent. Lush ferns and vines pressed against every pane of glass; moonflowers and crimson lilies glowed beneath the moonlight. At the center stood Huajie himself. His dark hair was loose around pale shoulders; his robes were simple but immaculate. His sharp green eyes caught the lantern glow as he regarded her. In one hand he held a carved ivory box, in the other a small jade lantern.
"Games?" Huajie purred. He advanced a step and set the lantern on a stone table. The light danced across rows of gleaming potion vials and drawers of dried petals. "Tell me, Li Xiu: which is deadlier, the locked box or the open flame?"
Li Xiu's gaze darted to the ivory box. It was impossibly heavy even for its size, and it rattled oddly when the faintest breeze from the lantern stirred the air. Clearly she was meant to open it, but doing so felt like inviting fate. Carefully she kept her stance cautious. "What poison have you prepared in there?" she asked.
Huajie's eyes twinkled. "A test for the Queen's own poisoner." He gestured at the lantern flame. "I will speak a riddle. If you solve it, step inside and open the box. If you cannot, place your trust in the fire."
Li Xiu tightened her grip on her dagger, suspicion curling in her chest. "You twist words and truth," she said. "Why should I trust anything you say?"
He bowed his head slightly, the shadow of his dark hair brushing the table. "Because answers are truth only if they save lives," Huajie answered softly. "Listen, Li Xiu: 'I bloom in darkness yet welcome the sun. I cure what kills, I comfort the undone. What flower am I?'"
Li Xiu studied the plants around them. In the corner, a single silver-blue blossom unfurled its petals into the lantern's glow. It was a night orchid – known among poisoners for its curative fragrance. She knew instantly. "The moon orchid," she answered.
Huajie's lips curved into a thin smile. "Correct." He picked up the lantern and held it by the table's edge, moving the flame to cast light directly into the box. The lock clicked again and sprang open. With careful fingers Li Xiu lifted the lid. Inside, instead of a powder or vial, lay a single withered marigold.
Her breath caught. Was that the test – a dried flower? "Why – what does this mean?" she demanded.
Huajie stepped into the lantern's glow, his green eyes unwavering. "Marigold," he said softly, "in common parlance even yesterday's bloom can heal a wound. I wanted to see if the Queen's poisoner would answer the riddle of meaning. You did well."
Li Xiu frowned but held her tongue. The box remained empty but for the flower, harmless enough, yet a puzzle itself. "You wasted my time," she said after a moment.
"To find you," Huajie replied calmly. "The Serpent's Circle has been meddling in the palace. Now I know someone close to Queen Zhenzhu is working with them."
Li Xiu's dagger hand flicked up, and her heart lurched. "Who?" she whispered, voice catching. "Tell me!"
Huajie's face turned grave. "A traitor walks freely by the Golden Tower, wearing court colors," he said. "Perhaps a confidante, perhaps someone sworn to protect her. But venom can hide in velvet as easily as in vials."
"But who?!" Li Xiu ground out, desperately searching his expression.
The corners of Huajie's mouth tilted as if in amusement, though his eyes were stern. "Figure it out, Li Xiu. Or the next test might not be so kind." He handed her the withered marigold. "Take this, and know: some poison heals only in the right hands."
Li Xiu stared at the dried petals trembling in her palm. The symbol of the palace – one of the Queen's favorite flowers – but deadened. Her mind raced. Someone dear to Zhenzhu, a nurse or sister maid with secrets… her own breath hitched at the implications.
A sudden crash startled them both. Outside the greenhouse, a beam splintered under a heavy blow. Li Xiu spun around, heart hammering. Through the cracked glass she saw torchlight reflecting on black armor and the glint of steel.
"Intruders!" a harsh voice barked from beyond the glass. Footsteps pounded on the wooden walkways outside. The lights from the Queen's palace suddenly grew brighter, flickering under the starlit sky.
Huajie's eyes narrowed. He slid behind Li Xiu, moving a large fernscreen to block part of the shattered window. "Serpent's Circle," he muttered. "They've followed you here."
Li Xiu pressed her back against the stone table. One hand still gripped the marigold; the other went to her dagger. She glanced at Huajie. In the dim glow of his lantern, his face was calm but ready. The traitors had found them – whatever came next would decide them both.
Together, surrounded by the scent of crushed petals and swirling shadows, Li Xiu and Huajie braced for what waited outside the sanctuary of vines.