*CHAPTER 5 : THE FIRST MEETING*
The carriage slowed.
Through the window, I could see the high grey walls of the Zhao estate getting closer, closer, until they filled the whole view. The iron gates were opening, groaning on their hinges, revealing the huge stone courtyard beyond.
_Wait._
_This is… this is actually huge._
_Pretty huge._
_Like, "the Han manor is a shed compared to this" huge._
_I wonder how it is from inside. Do they have beds. Or do soldiers just sleep standing up on the training ground._
Mother reached out and took my hand, then Míng's hand. Her grip was firm.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice low and serious. "Both of you. All of you." She glanced at the other carriage, where I knew Chén, Lì and MěiLíng could hear her through the open windows. "Be on your best behaviour. But more importantly — be yourself. Don't be afraid. Don't try to be someone you're not to impress them. The Zhao family… they can smell a lie from a mile away. Just be honest. Be respectful. That is enough."
_Be myself. Right. Myself who sees visions and thinks her sister is plotting and might have a brain illness._
_Goddd I gotta figure out what are these flashbacks. Is it an illness. Have I been possessed by something. Do I have superpowers._
_No way. If I had superpowers I'd be able to stop my hands from sweating._
Míng swallowed loudly. "Mother, I'm scared."
Mother cupped his face. "I know, my love. But you are a Su grandson. You have nothing to be afraid of. Do you understand?"
He nodded, not really understanding, but trusting her.
_He's twelve and trying. I'm sixteen and dissociating._
_Do I have a terminal illness called "losing my mind". Symptoms: visions, paranoia, sweating._
I looked out the window again. The gates were fully open now.
"We're here," Mother said quietly.
---
Inside the Zhao manor —
Inside the manor, in a room overlooking the courtyard, Lord Zhào WèiYán finally settled on the black robe with the silver tiger.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself, adjusting the collar in the mirror. "Simple. Dignified. Not trying too hard."
A servant burst into the room, bowing low, breathless. "My lord! A rider just came! They are at the gates! They will be here in moments!"
Lord Zhao's eyes widened. "What? Now? I thought we had another quarter hour!"
He turned and practically ran to his wardrobe, yanking out the black robe he'd tried on first, the one he actually liked, the one that made him look like a general and not a groom.
His three sons were already in the main hall, waiting.
Zhào YìChén, the second son, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. "So. We hear they have two sisters. One adopted, one real. And three brothers. Five children total."
Zhào MíngYuǎn, the youngest, grinned. "Five against three. Good odds. Let's see if they can match us. I bet the scholar brother faints at the sight of a sword."
YìChén laughed. "I bet the adopted sister cries within the first hour. They always do."
They both looked at their eldest brother, Zhào Chányán, who stood by the window, still in his black armor, his face unreadable as he watched the gates open in the distance.
"Chányán gege," MíngYuǎn said, "what do you think? Think they'll be soft? Like capital children?"
Chányán didn't turn. "I think you will both be on your best behaviour. Or family rules will be applied to you. Both of you. Is that understood?"
The amusement drained from their faces. Family rules in the Zhao household meant drills at dawn for a month. Or mucking out the stables. Or worse — extra lessons with Chányán himself.
"Understood, gege," YìChén said quickly.
"Understood," MíngYuǎn echoed.
Lord Zhao came striding into the hall, finally dressed, his face flushed. "They're here?"
"They're here," Chányán said, and there was something in his voice. Not excitement. Not dread. Just… focus. Like before a battle.
---
Back to JiāYì — carriages stopping
The carriages rolled to a stop in the courtyard.
For a moment, nobody moved. Then the doors opened.
_Okay. Breathe. You can do this. You've survived a divorce announcement. You can survive stone walls._
_I need to figure this out. What are these visions. Why do they keep showing me men in armor._
_Is it a prophecy. Is it a curse. Is it my brain broken from stress._
I stepped out first, helping Míng down. He clung to my hand, his eyes huge as he took in the size of the place. It was not decorated like the Han manor. There were no gardens of flowers, no ornamental ponds with goldfish. There were training dummies. Weapon racks. A large, open space of packed earth where men had clearly been sparring minutes before.
_No flowers. No silk. No places to hide._
_Just dirt and wood and… and weapons. Real ones._
_Why does that make me feel… steady. Like the ground won't shift here._
"Wow," Lì breathed from behind me, getting out of the second carriage. "It's… big."
_"Big". Understatement of the year, Lì. This place could eat the Han manor for breakfast._
Chén said nothing, but his eyes were moving everywhere, cataloging, assessing.
_Chén's in scholar mode. He's measuring the walls. He's counting the weapon racks. He's going to write a thesis on this later._
MěiLíng stepped out last, graceful, her expression one of polite admiration. "It's very… impressive," she said softly.
_Impressive. That's her "I'm humble and grateful" voice. The one Father always falls for._
_Stop. You don't know that. You're paranoid. You're—_
Then I looked up. Toward the steps of the main hall.
And saw him.
A man in black armor. Tall. Broad. Standing too still. The others were shifting, talking, breathing. He wasn't. He was like a statue that got bored of being stone and decided to be terrifying instead.
_Wait… who's that guy._
_Who's staring at me._
_He's not looking at Mother. Or the carriages. Or Lì being Lì._
_He's looking straight at me. Like he knew I'd be the one to step out first._
_He looks cold blooded._
_Ohh goodd his aura is so demeaning._
_Like… like the air got heavier just because he exists._
_Like I should be bowing myself. Right now. Without being told._
_That has to be him. The Regent Prince. Mother said he'd be here._
_It MUST be him. Who else feels like a war you're already losing._
My knees actually buckled. I locked them. _Do not fall. Do not fall. If you fall, you'll die of shame and that will be your illness._
MěiLíng's breath caught, just slightly. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she controlled her expression.
_She sees him too. Everyone sees him. He's not a vision. He's real. He's really real._
_And he's still staring. At me._
She immediately lowered her eyes. She knew her place. She was an adopted daughter of a divorced Prime Minister. He was the Regent Prince. She should not covet things beyond her reach. She knew that.
And yet… her gaze flickered to me. To the way that man's cold eyes were still on me.
_Why. Why is he still looking at me. I'm nothing. I'm the girl who sees things that aren't there._
_Unless… unless he can tell. Unless I have "mentally unstable" written on my forehead._
She curtsied perfectly, her eyes downcast, the picture of modesty.
_She's doing it. The perfect curtsy. The perfect face._
_Will it work here. In a place with dirt and swords. I don't know._
_Why do I care. Why do I CARE._
Mother stepped out of our carriage and straightened her robes. She looked calm. But I could see the tightness around her eyes.
On the steps of the main hall, the Zhao men waited.
Lord Zhào WèiYán was a man in his late forties, tall and broad, with greying hair and the bearing of a soldier who had become a lord. He was handsome in a hard way.
_That's Lord Zhao. Mother told me his name. He looks like Grandfather. But angrier. Or more tired. Both._
Beside him stood his three sons.
The one leaning on the pillar — he was handsome, but in a lazy way, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
_That must be the second young master. Mother said there was one. She didn't say his name. He looks like he'd steal your dessert and call it training._
The younger one next to him was leaner, grinning, eyes everywhere.
_And that's the third young master. He looks like he'd set off fireworks in the training ground and call it "tactical practice"._
_I'd like him if I wasn't currently busy having a crisis._
And the man in black armor… he was like a blade. Tall, golden in the sunlight, beautiful and cold. His eyes swept over us, one by one, missing nothing.
_Golden. His eyes are actually gold. Not brown. Not yellow. Gold._
_Like a cat. Like a coin. Like something inhuman._
_Hmmm he's not that bad looking._
_JIĀYÌ. Wait I should not think like this. He's the Regent Prince. He could have me executed for improper thoughts. Is that a law. It should be._
_Stop. Be Su. Be stone. Be invisible._
There was an awkward pause. It had been years since their mother died. I could see it in their faces — the way they stood a little too straight, the way they didn't quite know where to look. They could not just accept us as family in one instant. A new woman, new children, in their mother's house. It was awkward for everyone.
_It's awkward. Good. I'm not the only one who wants to sink into the ground._
_The stone ground. Which looks very hard. And uncomfortable. But still tempting._
Lord Zhao stepped forward first and bowed slightly to Mother, a gesture of respect between equals. "Sū RuìXī. Welcome to the Zhao estate."
Mother bowed back, just as slightly. "Lord Zhao. Thank you for having us."
He turned to us. "And these must be your children. Welcome."
One by one, we bowed. "Lord Zhao."
Then his sons came down the steps.
The lazy-smiling one greeted us with an easy smile. "Nǐ hǎo. I'm YìChén. Welcome."
_YìChén. So that's his name. The second young master._
_He sounds normal. He sounds like he sleeps past dawn. I'm jealous._
The grinning one spoke next. "I'm MíngYuǎn. Don't worry, we don't bite. Much."
A few nervous laughs. Míng hid behind Mother's skirts a little.
_MíngYuǎn. Third young master. "Don't bite. Much."_
_Is that a joke. Is that a threat. With the Zhao family, it could be both._
Then the man in black armor stepped forward.
_Oh no. Oh no oh no._
_The air changed. It got cold. Or I got cold. One of those._
He greeted Chén first, with a nod. "Hán Chén." His voice was neutral.
Chén bowed. "Regent Prince."
_So it IS him. I was right. The demeaning aura gave him away._
_Why does my heart sound like a war drum. Is that a symptom. Add it to the list._
He greeted Lì. "Hán Lì."
Lì bowed lower than necessary. "Regent Prince."
_Lì, stop. You're going to pull a muscle. Have some Su pride._
He greeted Míng, and his expression softened, just a fraction. "Hán Míng."
Míng peeked out and bowed. "R-regent Prince."
_He's not a monster to children. Okay. Noted. Only to sixteen-year-old girls with possible brain illnesses._
He greeted MěiLíng. "Hán MěiLíng."
She curtsied perfectly, her eyes downcast, the picture of modesty. "Regent Prince. It is an honor."
He said nothing to that. Just nodded, his eyes already moving past her.
_Past her. Like she's not worth the effort._
_Why does that make me feel… bad. And relieved. And bad about feeling relieved._
_I'm a mess. I'm a whole mess._
Then he turned to me.
_Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck._
And his whole demeanor changed.
The slight, polite neutrality vanished. His golden eyes went cold. Hard. Suspicious. He looked at me like I was a puzzle he didn't like, or a riddle he intended to solve.
_Why. Why me. What did I do. I just EXISTED._
_Does he know. Can he tell I'm seeing the future. Can he smell crazy._
_Is that why he's staring. Because I'm a threat. To what. His sanity._
"Hán JiāYì," he said. His voice was colder than it had been with anyone else. Colder than winter water.
_Winter water. On my skin. In my lungs._
_Is this fear. Is this… something else. Why do I want to run to him and away from him._
_Do I have a terminal illness called "doomed". Yes. That's it._
I bowed, keeping my eyes down. "Regent Prince."
_Say it. Don't shake. Don't shake. Don't—_
He was silent for a beat too long. I could feel his eyes on the top of my head, on my hands, on the way I stood.
_He's measuring me. He's finding me lacking. He's going to tell Lord Zhao "send this one back, she's defective"._
_Good. Maybe they have doctors. For defective girls. For girls who see things._
"Welcome to Zhao Manor," he said finally. The words were polite. The tone was not. It was a warning. A question.
_Warning. Question. "I know you're hiding something."_
_But I don't even know what I'm hiding. From myself._
_I need to figure this out. What are these flashbacks. What's wrong with me._
I straightened up and met his eyes for just a second.
_Gold. Like metal. Like a blade. Like a judgment._
_And cold. So cold I forgot it was summer._
And in that second, a flicker hit me —
Him, standing close to me in a hallway, his face close to mine, his golden eyes narrowed, searching my face. His voice, low: "You're hiding something. What is it?"
_He's close. Too close. Even in the vision. He's in my space. In my head._
_He knows. He KNOWS._
_Am I possessed by something that's afraid of him. Is that why I keep seeing him._
_No way. No way. No way._
The vision vanished and I almost gasped. I gripped Míng's hand tighter to steady myself.
_Don't react. Don't react. Act normal. Act like you didn't just see the Regent Prince interrogating you in a hallway that doesn't exist yet._
Chányán's eyes narrowed, just slightly, as if he'd seen my reaction. As if he knew I'd seen something.
_He saw. He SAW._
_I'm going to be arrested. For future crimes. For crimes I don't even understand._
_I'm sixteen. This is too much responsibility._
He turned away.
"Come inside," Lord Zhao said, his voice hearty, trying to break the tension. "You must be tired from the journey. We have prepared rooms for you all."
As we followed them toward the hall, Míng whispered to me, "Jiejie, that big brother is scary."
_You're telling me._
_He's scary and he's in my visions and I might be dying._
_And he's not that bad looking. I'm going to be sick._
I didn't answer. I was too busy trying to stop shaking.
Because the Regent Prince, Zhào Chányán, had just looked at me like he already knew I was different.
And I had just seen that he would not stop until he found out what my secret was.
_Secret. What secret. I DON'T KNOW MY SECRET._
_But he's going to find it. And then what. Do I get locked up. Do I get studied._
_Do I have superpowers. Is he going to train me. Kill me. Interrogate me again._
_Goddd I gotta figure out what are these flashbacks. Tonight. Before he figures ME out first._
---