The leaves were falling early this year, their vibrant displays of pale golds, oranges, and fiery reds painting an exhibition of contrast against the remaining evergreen trees in their midst. Autumn was making a dramatic entrance to chase away the heat of summer.

Oh, to find the right number of syllables…

Steam wafted from a single teacup placed at the top of the low table, the earthenware teapot keeping the remaining tea warm next to it. But the pale tea was currently being neglected by the one who poured it, as the occupant of the desk had yet to finish his writing. With a dip of the brush, Xian would carefully write out each character, making sure his sleeve did not fall into the wet ink. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the silk with ink stains.

The door slid open with a near-silent whisper. Near, but not nearly silent enough to escape his notice.

"You will need to work much harder if you wish to sneak up on me." He replied calmly, not pausing in his writing.

Small feet moved across the wood floor, before stopping just on the other side of the table. 

Without glancing up from the line of calligraphy in progress, he nodded to the child, "Sit." 

The child knelt on the other side of the table, waiting patiently to be acknowledged.

Finding a satisfactory stopping point in his writing, Xian carefully set his brush on the stand, bringing his full attention to the child before him, "I believe you are aware that you’re not supposed to come into the office, correct?”

From the other side of the table, the child nodded.

“So I trust that there is a good reason for you to interrupt me,”  Xian continued, resting his hands in his lap as he waited for an answer.

The child shifted under his gaze, struggling to sit still on her heels. She was still learning most of her basic manners, so Xian elected to forgo correcting her.

Though when the only answer that Xian got for an answer was an incoherent mumble, Xian had to correct the behavior, "Speak clearly. You are answering me, not your knees."

At once, the child was looking up at him, her shoulders set in a rigid square. "Zanzan said you did scary work."

From the doorway, Xian could hear a sharp intake of breath.

"Zhou Zan, come here."

Reluctantly, another figure stepped into the office. The older boy took his place next to the girl without being told, though he couldn't resist hissing under his breath, "Maelin, you blabbermouth..."

"Name Calling is unbecoming," Xian replied out of reflex, leveling an even look towards Zhou Zan, "As is gossip."

Zhou Zan started to squirm under the scrutinizing gaze, but stopped. Zhou Zan, unlike Maelin, knew better than to move so restlessly. He was at the very least that far in his studies.

"Now," Xian grabbed his tea cup, holding his sleeve so it would not trail over his freshly written calligraphy, "Tell me what you have told Maelin. All of it."

"Yes sir..." The boy nodded slightly, "I...I just told Maelin that you are a spy..."

Xian raised an eyebrow, his gaze not wavering from the boy in front of him.

Under Xian's scrutiny, Zhou Zan wilted, "...and that you kill people."

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

Xian took a slow sip of his tea, not allowing his gaze to leave Zhou Zan or Maelin. As much as he would love to savor the sweet jasmine fragrance of the tea (especially considering just how expensive those particular tea leaves were), Xian knew his afternoon tea was secondary in this situation.

"Ten laps through the agility course, for attempting to scare your junior," Xian finally decided, "Another five for your reluctance to speak the truth."

Zhou Zan winced, but nodded, "Yes sir."

Maelin looked between Zhou Zan and Xian, her brows furrowed in concentration, "So Zanzan lie?"

Xian did not let his displeasure at the clumsily wording show, "Did Zanzan lie to me?" He corrected.

Maelin pouted (Xian ignored it-- he had to pick his battles at this point), "Did Zanzan lie to me?" She repeated.

"Very good," Xian nodded, taking another sip of tea, "In short, no, Zhou Zan did not lie to you."

The little girl's eyes widened at that. "Oh..."

"That is our trade here," Xian continued. He hadn't intended to explain this to Maelin quite yet, she was still too young, but Zhou Zan had forced his hand, "We work for the Crown, hunting down secrets and those who would use those secrets to bring harm to others."

Maelin looked between Xian and Zhou Zan, "But...you kill people?"

Xian wondered if perhaps he should have made Zhou Zan's punishment harsher for his indiscretion. No doubt he would have a stern talk to the other children. Loose lips were a death sentence in their trade. "Yes, if necessary." He watched Maelin carefully, "Does that scare you?"

The little girl stuck out her bottom lip in a stubborn pout, "Nu-huh!"

"No, it doesn't," Xian corrected blandly.

"No, it doesn't." Maelin repeated.

"Then you are a fool," Xian replied, setting down his teacup, "But you are a child, it is expected that you are somewhat foolish of the ways of this world."

"I'm not a fool!" Maelin's cheeks turned red in indignation. Xian suspected that if she had been standing, she would have stomped her foot.

"You are, but that is not something to be ashamed of at your age," Xian replied, "You are blessed to be allowed a foolish childhood. There are many who were not as lucky as you."

Maelin frowned at that, clearly confused. Xian resisted the urge to sigh, of course Maelin wouldn't understand until she was much, much older.

"Like Ibiki..." Zhou Zan murmured.

"Do not mumble...but you are correct." Xian allowed his mind to wander for a moment at the thought of the teen on the cusp of womanhood, "I was also not granted the luxury of being a foolish child."

Zhou Zan couldn't conceal the shock on his face, though Xian couldn't bring himself to chastise him for the gobsmacked expression. When was the last time he spoke of his childhood?

"I was just about your age when my training began." 

Xian wasn't sure how long he had been standing, only that his feet hurt. But he didn't dare move, afraid of what all the angry men would do to him if he fidgeted too much.

Be good, Xian. A-die had told him. Xian was a filial son, he would obey his A-die's command.

Even if Xian was willing to disobey, the tight hand clamped his shoulder would have kept Xian from moving anyway. Xian didn't know who the man was, he looked like one of the soldiers A-die would sometimes talk to or invite into their home, but Xian didn't recognize his face under the fierce mask and helmet.

The angry men were arguing, speaking faster than Xian could keep up with, even when he could catch bits and pieces of conversation, he couldn't entirely understand the words.

"Atonement" one said.

"Dishonor," said another.

Every so often, Xian would hear one of them say "the boy." They were talking about him. What they should do with him now.

The arguing ceased when a single voice called for silence. At once, every man in the room turned their attention to the ornate throne situated at one end of the room. The throne was raised several steps above the rest of them, and the occupant of the throne was obscured by the gauzy curtain hanging from the throne canopy, but the silhouette was still visible in the lamplight. 

Xian didn't like looking in the direction of the throne, because his eye would inevitably be drawn to the figure slumped at the base of the throne stairs, and the growing pool of red.

As the silence rang throughout the room, Xian tried in vain to avoid the pool of red and the slumped body.

Be good, Xian, A-die had said, but he had been crying. A-die never cried.

A-die wasn't moving, either. Xian didn't think he would again.

"Send the boy to the Jade Temple," Came the  voice from behind the curtain, "He can be of use in the Lotus Pond."