“Master Zhang!”

Lingqi burst into the headmaster’s study, his breath ragged, his robes clinging to his sweat-soaked frame.

“Lingqi?” Master Zhang’s voice was a soft rumble, his eyes lifting from the ancient scroll splayed across his desk. “What is it?”

“There... there was a strange woman in the library,” Lingqi blurted out, his words tumbling over themselves as though even he doubted their veracity.

“A strange woman?” Master Zhang’s eyes widened, his body tensing as he rose from his seat.

“Yes. She wore green robes, but I couldn’t see her face, even with a fire lamp,” Lingqi stammered, the memory vivid in his mind.

Master Zhang’s expression darkened, a storm of worry clouding his features. Lingqi had never seen his master like this—so deeply troubled, so profoundly unsettled.

“Was she elderly?” The question came with the weight of a feared confirmation.

“Yes, very old,” Lingqi confirmed, his voice small.

“I see.”

Silence enveloped the room, thick and suffocating. Master Zhang’s face grew pale, his mind a tempest of thought. He had not sensed any new presence within the academy’s sacred grounds. Even now, as he expanded his senses, there was no trace, no hint of residual Prana. If Lingqi spoke the truth—and Master Zhang had no reason to doubt him—then this woman was a specter beyond his detection.

“I don’t know how she got in, or what she wanted,” Lingqi continued, his voice breaking the silence like a crack of thunder. “But she knew who I was. She said her name wasn’t important, but that I would seek her out.”

“Seek her out?” The headmaster’s voice was edged with growing concern.

“She said she would teach me the truth.”

“What truth?” Master Zhang’s brows knitted together, a deep furrow of worry.

“The lies of the Jade Sovereignty,” Lingqi’s voice quivered, a mix of fear and uncertainty palpable.

“This is bad. Very bad,” Master Zhang murmured, his words more to himself than to Lingqi. The headmaster’s mind raced, each thought darker than the last. If she was involved, the situation was more dire than he had feared.

“Who is she, Master?”

“She is not to be trusted,” Master Zhang declared, his tone resolute. “Did she harm you? Did she attempt to hurt you?”

“N-No,” Lingqi stammered, anxiety threading through his words. “But she said I should not listen to you and open myself to my own Prana instead.”

“Is that all she said?”

“Yes, she disappeared shortly after,” Lingqi stated, his voice barely above a whisper. “It was as if she was a ghost.”

‘Then my worst fear is realized,’ Master Zhang thought, his expression growing more grave by the moment. “Do not inform the other students of this. I do not wish to cause unnecessary alarm. I will return shortly,” he instructed, moving past Lingqi with a deliberate urgency.

“But Master, if she’s a threat, shouldn’t I tell everyone?” Lingqi’s confusion was evident.

Master Zhang turned back, a sage’s smile softening his features. “Do not worry, Lingqi. She is not a threat. At least, not in the way you think. No harm shall come to any of you. This, I promise.”

Lingqi felt a sense of calm wash over him, his master’s words like a balm to his frayed nerves. He had done his part; now he had to trust Master Zhang.

“Thank you, Master Zhang.”

----

“Are you sure it was her?” Elder Zhu’s voice was as calm and placid as a still pond.

Master Zhang met with Elder Zhu in a bustling teahouse at the heart of Huadu. The lively crowd provided the perfect cover, her influence unable to penetrate here.

“Yes,” Master Zhang confirmed, his voice heavy with certainty. “It was her.”

“It has been decades,” Elder Zhu mused, his gaze distant. “She was old and gray even then.”

“She appears unchanged,” Master Zhang noted, nostalgia lacing his words.

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“No. It seems she has not changed at all, nor has her disdain for the Jade Sovereignty.”

“Her words were clear enough,” Master Zhang sighed. “Lingqi is exceptionally talented. Her appearance after all this time, and to him specifically, is no coincidence.”

“Perhaps, or perhaps not. Only time will tell,” Elder Zhu replied, his tone contemplative.

“She infiltrated the academy undetected. Her ability to evade is as formidable as ever,” Master Zhang admitted, a trace of frustration in his voice.

“Then the situation is indeed dire,” Elder Zhu agreed, his eyes tracking a patron before returning to his colleague. “Perhaps it is time for your pupils to leave the nest, to spread their wings.”

“That would be ideal. Li Bie is ready—mature and wise beyond his years. Yi Ming is dutiful and earnest. Gao Ling, though brash, has shown growth as both a mentor and a pupil. Yuyan is bright, and Chen Xiu has become disciplined,” Master Zhang replied, pride evident in his voice.

“And what of the child?” Elder Zhu asked, referring to Lingqi.

“He is the most talented, but also the most vulnerable. He needs a wise mentor, one not tied down, to help him experience the world,” Master Zhang said, looking expectantly at his old friend.

“You wish for me to mentor him?”

“Yes,” Master Zhang nodded. “The academy is compromised. I will heed your advice and set my senior students free.”

A waitress arrived with a small serving tray, placing two porcelain mugs before the venerable men with a hospitable smile before departing.

“Very well. I shall take him on,” Elder Zhu agreed. “When will you inform them?”

“Soon,” Master Zhang said, sipping his tea. “I must first complete their training.”

Elder Zhu sipped his tea, nodding along with the headmaster’s words.

“Any news from the Opal Palace?” Master Zhang asked, leaning in.

Elder Zhu sat his mug down, his voice a whisper. “The diplomats sent an envoy to the Khalkans. They returned with demands.”

“Demands?” Master Zhang was taken aback. “The Khalkans have never been so bold.”

“Indeed,” Elder Zhu agreed. “They demanded land.”

Master Zhang stroked his beard, concern etched on his face. The Jade Sovereignty had always sought peace with the Khalkan tribes. Never before had they requested Sovereign lands.

“How did the diplomats respond?”

“They refused, offering more gold, grain, and silks instead,” Elder Zhu stated.

“And the Khalkans’ response?”

“Unfavorable,” Elder Zhu confirmed. “The Sovereignty seeks peace, but the Khalkans may want more.”

“They may wish to expand their borders,” Master Zhang deduced.

“Yes. But conflict is the root of despair. The Sovereignty will uphold peace and harmony,” Elder Zhu asserted, his tone lifted with hope.

“These are troubling times,” Master Zhang muttered. “Do you think her appearance is linked to the tensions with the Khalkans?”

“She acts with purpose. For her to reveal herself now is no coincidence,” Elder Zhu said. “It is troubling.”

“Lingqi…” Master Zhang muttered.

Elder Zhu raised an eyebrow.

“His parents were killed by the Khalkans,” Master Zhang explained. “She may seek to use him.”

“To what end?”

The headmaster stroked his beard. “The Khalkans, her, Lingqi... all pieces of a larger puzzle,” Master Zhang pondered. “A puzzle that remains out of my grasp.”

“The heart of the matter eludes us both,” Elder Zhu nodded. “I will supplement Lingqi’s training while you prepare the others. Perhaps I shall take him to the Opal Palace. It could prove to be beneficial.”

“Yes, it would,” Master Zhang agreed.

“Then it is settled,” Elder Zhu smiled, signaling a server.

“Please, allow me,” Master Zhang insisted, reaching for his pocket.

“Nonsense. You honor me with the privilege of teaching once more,” Elder Zhu replied graciously.

“Thank you. Jade’s blessing upon you,” Master Zhang said, standing up to give his friend a courteous bow.

“Jade’s blessing,” Elder Zhu returned, bowing his head.

The pair departed, each heading their separate ways, the weight of the future heavy on their shoulders.

—---

Lingqi sat in his dorm room, enshrined in the tranquil embrace of meditation, practicing his Ohm.

"Breathe," Lingqi intoned.

His focus was unyielding, fixed upon the beating of his heart, the surge of his blood. He felt heat blossom in his face, a forge igniting within his chest. It was a warmth that was both seductive and serene, yet Lingqi maintained his disciplined rhythm.

The heat swelled, an inferno of tranquility, intensifying with every measured breath. A soothing blaze, like a hot spring's embrace, suffused his body with a radiant, pleasant tingle. He attuned himself to the fire churning in the depths of his core, each breath a bellows stoking the flames, causing them to surge and dance.

His awareness unfurled, expanding beyond the confines of his room. His mind stretched out, an ethereal tendril exploring the vast expanse of the academy.

He roamed the grounds like an unseen specter, perceiving through stone and grass as though they were but flimsy dressing screen doors.

He beheld Gao behind the serving counter, preparing dinner in the mess hall. Li Bie stood before him, engaged in conversation, their words did not reach him.

He witnessed Chen and Yi Ming locked in the spirited dance of Cuju in the courtyard. Somehow, an intrinsic knowing told him Yi Ming was ahead in score, the numbers etched in the air of his mind.

His thoughts strayed to Yuyan, and Lingqi found himself observing her from afar. She was alone, enraptured by a scroll in her room, a red thread dangling from its side.

Realization struck like a thunderclap—this was the scroll he had sought in the library. It had never been there. It had been with her all along.

"She tricked me," the thought pierced his mind like a dagger.

A searing pain cleaved through his skull, and his vision fractured into a constellation of black dots. Panic gripped him as his composure shattered. His Prana, once a river of controlled power, now surged unchecked, his perceptions shrinking, withering.

Lingqi's eyes snapped open, and the blackness receded. He gazed at his hands, flexing them, feeling the alien sensation of his own fingers. For a moment, it was as though his Prana had possessed him, seizing control. But a smile tugged at his lips. The old woman's words echoed true.

He would need to practice more.

Rising from the floor, his nerves hummed with residual heat. He had glimpsed Yuyan with the scroll, and the sting of her deception burned within him.

There had to be a reason. Was it a jest? A cruel game for her amusement?

Suppressing his anger, Lingqi resolved not to let it consume him.

Leaving his room, he ventured towards the dining hall. Hunger was a distant echo compared to the tumult of his thoughts. The encounter with the mysterious old woman had dulled his appetite, but it gnawed at him with renewed vigor. He would retrieve a meal for both himself and Yuyan, and confront her.

He hoped for honesty, a fragile hope that perhaps he was merely overreacting. But he had to know the truth.