Matriarch Feng's office had a window that almost no one noticed. It was a small opening in the corner, half hidden by a shelf of account books. However, it was not really a window.
Feng stood before it, watching.
The surface glowed with a faint luster, like still water under moonlight. It showed the Silent Bamboo Pavilion, specifically Xiao Yue's private dining room. It was an ancient artifact, one of the few the late lady had left her before she died. To protect her when I am gone, she had said. Feng had rarely used it in recent years. Watching Xiao Yue wither in solitude only generated frustration, and frustration without action was useless.
But today there was a reason to look.
On the glowing surface, Kenji was serving breakfast. He placed the teacup exactly where it belonged, the rice in the center, and the side dishes in order. Xiao Yue entered the dining room and Feng leaned slightly forward.
The girl's posture was different; less rigid. Her expression remained controlled, but there was something new in her eyes. Feng recognized it because she had seen it years ago, when Xiao Yue was younger and her mother still lived: hope.
"Good morning, Kenji," Xiao Yue said. Her voice had that almost warm tone that Feng had not heard in a long time.
"Good morning, Young Lady."
Feng watched as Xiao Yue ate slowly. Before, her meals had been mechanical affairs, fuel consumed by obligation. Now she was present.
Two soft taps sounded at the door.
"Come in," Feng said without taking her eyes off the glowing surface.
Captain Guan entered. He was a man in his sixties with scars that told the story of decades of service to the clan. His gray beard was trimmed with military precision. He did not wear his full armor, but rather the captain's tunic with the Silver Cloud Clan emblem embroidered on the shoulder.
Instead of making the standard bow, Guan closed the door behind him and fell onto one knee. It was a gesture of absolute martial respect; the kind of bow a soldier made only before his supreme commander in times of war. Guan did not kneel even before the Council Elders. To them, he offered appropriate but measured bows: respect for the position, not the person.
This was different.
"Matriarch," his voice resonated deep, like stones rolling in a riverbed.
Guan had served under the late lady. He had seen the clan's greatness before grief and politics rotted it. And he had been waiting, all these years, for someone from the old guard to finally move.
"Captain Guan," Feng said. Her tone changed completely to that of a commander giving orders. "Rise. We have work to do."
Guan stood up. His face was impassive, trained by decades of discipline, but Feng saw the spark in his eyes: anticipation. It was the barely contained emotion of a soldier who has been rusting in peace and finally smells battle. Feng walked to her desk and spread out a map of the clan complex.
"I want changes in the patrols," she said without preamble. "The Silent Bamboo Pavilion needs a new surveillance scheme."
Guan approached the desk with precise steps and studied the map with a strategist's eyes.
"A security increase?"
"Not exactly." Feng traced a line with her finger around the pavilion area. "I want that area to become boring. So monumentally boring that even a dedicated spy would fall asleep before seeing anything interesting."
Guan blinked once. He was a man difficult to surprise, but that had achieved it.
"Boring?"
"Use your most trusted men, the ones who know how to keep their mouths shut. I want them to patrol the area in rotations that don't seem important. Nothing flashy or attention grabbing. Just constant and discreet presence."
"That will create a perimeter," Guan observed, his military mind already working on the details. "Anyone paying attention will notice the pattern."
"Anyone paying attention already knows that Young Lady Xiao Yue lives there," Feng replied. "What they won't know is why her morning training suddenly needs extra privacy."
Guan studied the map in silence. Feng could see him connecting the dots.
"Young Master Zian's spies," he said finally. It was not a question.
"They are persistent," Feng confirmed, "but also predictable."
"What is happening in that pavilion that requires this level of discretion, Matriarch?"
It was the right question, asked with respect but without hesitation. Guan did not fear asking when he needed information to fulfill his mission.
"Come," she indicated, pointing to the window artifact.
Guan obeyed immediately. His expression remained neutral as he watched the scene. Xiao Yue was talking to Kenji, gesturing slightly with one hand. The boy responded with a relaxed but attentive posture.
"The new assistant," Guan said. "The one you mentioned."
"The same. He is a servant who sees things the Clan Master does not, things that even the Elders fail to perceive," Feng corrected with a hint of severity. "Three days ago, he identified a problem in the Young Lady's transition technique that had been blocking her progress for a year. A problem that no clan instructor had noticed."
Guan turned to look at her with total attention.
"Is the Young Lady progressing?"
"Yesterday she perfectly executed a technique that had been failing her for months. Her mood has improved; she is eating and sleeping better. For the first time in years, she has something that looks like hope."
Feng returned to her desk and sat down. It was a deliberate gesture: when she gave important orders, she sat.
"The boy is an anomaly, Captain. He has no formal training, but he understands systems. He doesn't know the rules of the cultivation hierarchy, so he isn't limited by them. He sees problems as just that, not as untouchable sacred traditions."
"A servant causing this level of change..." Guan murmured. "That will generate rumors."
"That is why I need the area to be boring. I want anyone watching to conclude there is nothing interesting; just a young lady training with renewed vigor because she finally decided to apply herself. Nothing more."
Guan nodded. He was no longer just a subordinate receiving orders, but an officer processing a strategy.
"And what will happen when Young Master Zian notices his sister is improving?"
"It depends on how much she has improved by then," Feng said, "and whether by that time she has enough strength of her own so he cannot interfere."
Silence. Guan crossed his arms, a gesture he would never have made before the Elders.
"Matriarch," he said finally, "with all due respect... is this just about protecting the lady, or is it the beginning of something bigger?"
Feng had been waiting for it. It was the question that confirmed Guan understood the magnitude of the situation.
"The clan is sick, Captain," she said, lowering her voice. "The Clan Master is absent, consumed by his grief. The Council only looks inward to maintain its power. And Young Master Zian... he has his father's arrogance without his mother's wisdom."
"I cannot argue with that," Guan admitted with barely contained bitterness.
"Everyone bets on Zian because he is the firstborn and tradition dictates it. But tradition does not win battles; competence does."
Feng pulled two cultivation reports from her desk and placed them side by side.
"Zian advanced two full levels in Foundation Establishment. Impressive, so they say. The Young Lady, on the other hand, has been stuck at the sixth level during the same period. If she suddenly begins to progress at a rate comparable to her brother's, the narrative changes. She is no longer the forgotten daughter; she becomes a potential competitor."
Feng stood up and walked to the real window, the one overlooking the garden.
"It is not my place to start a civil war between my lady's children. My duty is to provide the tools to whoever proves worthy of them and to protect the playing field so true strength can flourish. Everything will be decided by Xiao Yue's will. If she is strong, I will support her. If she is weak, I will protect her from the fall. But I will not hand her victory without effort: she must earn it."
Captain Guan felt an emotion he had not experienced in years. It was the call of the war drum. He understood perfectly: Matriarch Feng, the last authority figure of the old guard, had finally moved to save the clan's last hope.
"Understood, Matriarch," Guan said with a martial voice. "The Silent Bamboo Pavilion will be as impenetrable as an emperor's tomb. No one will know anything."
"The changes must be gradual," Feng added. "Let it look like a routine adjustment. And if you hear rumors about her or her assistant, I want to know."
"I will do it personally, with absolute discretion."
Guan made a deep bow, a real acknowledgment of his true commander.
"It has been an honor to serve under the late lady's command, and it is an honor to continue defending her ideals now."
"Then serve them well, Captain. The clan needs real strength, not just the appearance of it."
Guan withdrew. His steps were no longer those of a tired veteran, but those of an officer marching to campaign. Feng, alone again, returned to the window artifact. Xiao Yue was reading and taking notes with a clear purpose.
Feng opened a drawer and pulled out a white jade hairpin that had belonged to the late lady.
I promised to be her shield until she could be her own sword, she whispered. Perhaps this boy is the answer.
Feng took the account book and looked for Xiao Yue's allowance. With precise calligraphy, she wrote in the margin: Allowance increased to standard family level, effective immediately. Justification: correction of administrative error.
She was eliminating an unfair disadvantage. She closed the book. The first move was made: resources redistributed, privacy established, and tools provided.
All within administrative legality. If anyone objected, there would be documents. If not, she would continue moving pieces. True strength was only forged in genuine competition.
Feng looked at the afternoon sun on the garden rocks. She had waited years in silence, but now there was a new variable: a servant who saw the invisible and a young lady who had hope once more.
It was enough to start. The rest would depend on them.