The question hung in the silver-lit air of the garden, sharp and pointed as a needle.
What is it that you are looking for?
Yang Kai's mind, usually a chaotic storm of fear and alien desires, went utterly silent. He was caught. His camouflage had been pierced by the one person he least expected. His first instinct, a deeply ingrained habit from his previous life of navigating treacherous social landscapes, was to lie. To deflect. To play the part of the shamed, dutiful son.
But as he looked into his aunt's calm, intelligent eyes, he knew a simple lie wouldn't work. She wasn't his mother, driven by fiery emotion, or his father, blinded by frustration. She was an alchemist. She understood process, cause, and effect. She had observed the variables and was now demanding to see the formula.
He needed a new strategy. Not a lie, but a carefully curated half-truth. An answer that was honest enough to satisfy her curiosity but vague enough to protect his true intentions.
He took a slow breath, letting the silence stretch, giving his answer the weight of consideration.
"Leverage," he finally said, his voice a low, hoarse whisper.
Madam Lan's eyebrow arched, a minute, elegant motion. The surprise was subtle, but it was there. It was not the answer she had expected.
"Explain," she commanded softly.
"The Yang Clan… we are weak," he began, choosing his words with painstaking care. He looked down at his own bandaged hands, a perfect prop for the role he was about to play. "The Patriarch, my father… they think the problem is a lack of strength. They believe if Yang Wei can just break through, if we can just find one more Spirit Grade herb, we can push the Governor back."
He looked up, meeting her gaze again. "They are wrong. This isn't a fight. It's a siege. The Governor isn't trying to defeat us in a battle; he's trying to starve us out. He's cutting off our resources, taking our labor, bleeding us dry until we collapse on our own."
He saw a flicker of acknowledgment in her eyes. She, the one who managed their dwindling medicinal stores, understood this better than anyone.
"Our problem isn't a lack of strength," he continued, the words flowing more easily now. "It's a lack of value. We have nothing the Governor wants that he cannot simply take. We have no leverage to negotiate with. We have nothing to trade."
He took another breath, this was the critical part. "The Grinder… the Dregs… it is the one place where our clan's name means nothing. It's a place of whispers. Of information. I am looking for something—anything—that we can use. A weakness in the Governor's plans. A secret. A resource that no one else has noticed. Something that can become our leverage. Something we can trade for a little more time. For a little more breathing room."
It was the truth. It just wasn't the whole truth. He didn't mention that the leverage he sought was not for the clan, but for himself. He didn't mention the map of power he was building in his mind, with her, his mother, and his third aunt as key strategic locations.
Madam Lan was silent for a long time, her gaze distant as she processed his words. The rhythmic chirping of night insects filled the void. She finished bandaging his second hand, her movements slow and thoughtful.
"You would seek to find a hidden treasure in a mud pit," she finally said. It wasn't a dismissal. It was an observation.
"The rarest herbs often grow in the deepest, darkest places, First Aunt," he replied, borrowing her own world's imagery.
A faint, fleeting smile touched her lips again. It was a smile of genuine surprise, and perhaps, a touch of admiration. "You have your father's stubbornness. But you have your mother's sharp tongue, even if you keep it hidden."
She stood, her task complete. The audience was over.
"The Governor's plan is failing," he said quickly, before he lost the opportunity. "His mining operation in the Scarred Plains is yielding nothing. The Resonant Fields are too volatile. He's growing desperate."
This was his gamble. He was offering her a piece of the information he'd gathered, a show of good faith. A demonstration of the value he could bring.
She paused, her back to him. He could see her shoulders tense slightly. It was clear she hadn't known this. The clan was too insulated, too proud to listen to the gossip of common soldiers.
"Be careful, Nephew Kai," she said, her voice a soft warning without turning around. "A desperate man is a dangerous one. And the secrets you seek often have owners who do not wish to be found."
She walked into the small workshop adjoining her garden, leaving him alone in the silvery light of Selene's Veil. She walked into her workshop, the scent of dried herbs and cool stone a familiar comfort. But her mind was not on the neatly arranged jars or the half-finished elixir on her workbench. It was on the boy.
Leverage.
The word echoed in her mind. It was not the word of a fool. It was the word of a strategist.
She had dismissed him as a pathetic curiosity, a broken tool of the Second House. But the boy who had just walked out of her garden was not the same boy who had stumbled into it two nights ago. His eyes… they were not just the eyes of a frightened ghost. They held a new, strange depth. A cold, analytical light that did not belong to a boy who had slept for a decade.
And his information…
The Governor's mining operation in the Scarred Plains was failing. The Resonant Fields were volatile. He was growing desperate.
She walked to a locked cabinet and produced a small, rolled-up map of the province. She spread it out on her workbench. Her finger traced the jagged lines of the Titan's Tooth range, coming to rest on the desolate, windswept area marked as the Scarred Plains.
It was a place known for its chaotic energy, a remnant of the Great Fall. It was a place where common Star-Forged tools were known to fail. Why would the Governor pour so many resources into such a place? What was he looking for that was worth such a high risk?
The boy had seen a piece of a puzzle she had not even known existed.
She thought of his words. A weakness in the Governor's plans. A secret. A resource that no one else has noticed.
He was not just looking for a way to survive. He was looking for a weapon.
A faint, chilling smile touched her lips. She had thought she was tending to a flawed, useless nephew out of a sense of duty.
She was beginning to realize she may have just acquired a new, very interesting, and very sharp tool for her own collection.
She carefully re-rolled the map and locked it away. She would have to make some discreet inquiries of her own. The merchant contacts she maintained at the Jade Wind Trading Post would be a good place to start.
She looked at her own hands, at the faint, lingering scent of the salve she had used on the boy.
What is it that you believe you are?
She had asked him the question as a simple, dismissive probe.
Now, she found that she was very, very curious to learn the answer.
Yang Kai, returned to his cold room, his mind buzzing. He had survived. More than that, he had succeeded. He had planted a seed of curiosity in his aunt's mind. He was no longer just the useless, crippled nephew. He was now the foolish, but potentially useful, nephew. It was a small distinction, but in his world, it was a seismic shift.
The next evening, he returned to the garden. This was the last day she had promised to treat his hands. After this, his lifeline to her, his excuse for these private meetings, would be gone. He had to make it count.
He found her waiting for him, not with a bowl of salve, but with a small, steaming cup of tea.
"Your hands are mending," she said as he approached. "The skin is still new, but the infection is gone. The rest is up to time and an avoidance of shovels." She gestured to the stool. "Sit. Drink this."
He took the cup. The tea was a pale golden color and smelled of sweet flowers and something else, something clean and invigorating. He took a sip. A gentle, penetrating warmth spread through his chest, chasing away the deep, bone-deep weariness from the day's labor. It was far more potent than the Vitality Pill his mother had given him.
"Spirit-Dew Tea," she explained, seeing the question in his eyes. "Brewed from the petals of a Glimmerwing Moth's cocoon. It clears the mind and soothes the soul's exhaustion. My son finds it helpful after his training."
She was giving him something intended for Yang Wei. A small, but significant gesture.
"Thank you, First Aunt," he said, his voice filled with a genuine gratitude that surprised even himself.
"Do not thank me," she said, her expression serene. "Consider it an investment. You brought me valuable information yesterday. Perhaps you have more today."
This was it. The transaction. He had paid a price—information—and was now receiving a reward. He had established a line of credit.
He gathered his thoughts, pulling from the whispers he'd heard in the Grinder that day. "The Rat's Nest is running goods for the clanless through the Whispering Shadow Forest at night. They are moving west, towards the Scarred Plains. They are avoiding the Governor's Toll Gate."
Her brow furrowed slightly. "Smugglers and thugs. What of it?"
"They aren't just smuggling beast parts, First Aunt," he said, leaning forward slightly, lowering his voice. "I heard one of Xiong's men talking. They're smuggling food and blasting powder to the Governor's mining camp."
Madam Lan froze, the cup in her hand stopping halfway to her lips. "What did you say?"
"The Governor's venture is so over-budget and his official supply lines so slow that he's secretly buying supplies from the black market to keep his operation running," Yang Kai explained, his heart pounding. This was his ace. "He's using the very people he's displacing to prop up his own failing project. If the other clans, or a magistrate from the capital, were to learn that Governor Qian Shan was colluding with a criminal smuggling ring…"
He let the sentence hang in the air. The implications were enormous. It was a scandal that could undermine the Governor's authority, perhaps even lead to his removal.
It was leverage.
Madam Lan set her cup down, her movements slow and deliberate. The serene mask was gone. In its place was the sharp, calculating face of a clan matriarch who had just been handed a dagger in the dark.
She looked at him, truly looked at him, and he saw a dawning, dangerous respect in her eyes.
"This… is very valuable information, Nephew Kai," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He had done it. He had proven his worth.
He finished his tea, the warmth spreading through his limbs. He felt a surge of triumph, a feeling so foreign it was almost painful.
As he stood to leave, he intentionally swayed, as if his legs were still weak from the day's labor. He reached out, his hand landing on her shoulder to steady himself.
"Forgive me, First Aunt," he said, his voice apologetic. "Still weak."
The touch was brief, but he made it count. His fingers pressed lightly into the firm muscle of her shoulder, a spark of warmth passing between them. He felt the fine silk of her robe, smelled the clean, herbal scent of her skin.
She stiffened for a barest fraction of a second, her body going rigid at the unexpected, familiar touch. It was a flicker of vulnerability, a crack in her serene facade, and his mind cataloged it instantly.
He pulled his hand back quickly. "My apologies."
"Be careful on your way back," she said, her voice a little tight, her composure restored but not quite as perfect as before. She did not meet his eyes.
He walked away from the garden, a cold smile touching his lips for the first time in this new world.
He had lost his excuse to see her. But he had gained something far more valuable.
He had her attention.
[Cycle of the Azure Emperor, Year 3472, 7th Moon, 10th Day]