*CHAPTER 7 — THE TEA RITUAL*
The vision was still behind my eyes — MěiLíng, a tea cup, a shadow falling, a gasp — when there was a knock on my door.
_Tea. It's happening. Grandfather always said "Su doesn't lose at tea."_
_Grandfather's dead. So I guess I can't lose. For him._
I opened it to find Zhào YìChén and Zhào MíngYuǎn.
"Grandmother sent us," YìChén said, leaning on my doorframe like he pays rent here. "All the Han kids. Main hall. Now. She said 'family ritual' which is her way of saying 'don't embarrass Dad or I'll embarrass you'."
MíngYuǎn peeked over his shoulder. "Dad's down there practicing his 'welcoming face'. It looks like he's in pain. This is gonna be great."
_They're 22 and 19 and they roast their father for a living._
_Father would have had us beaten for breathing wrong._
_I think I like them. Is that allowed. I'm 16. I'm allowed to like dumb things._
I nodded. "I'll get my brothers."
We collected Chén, Lì, Míng. MěiLíng was already waiting, calm as a pond. _Poison pond._
"Jiejie," she said, all innocent. "Do you know what this is about?"
"No," I lied.
_I know exactly what it's about. Your foot. My ankle. Your plan._
_Try it. I dare you. Grandfather taught me to fall right. And to get back up faster._
We followed them downstairs.
---
The main hall had five tables. Tea sets. Hot water. The Grand Consort on her platform. Lord Zhào YùXuān beside her, looking like he was about to face execution. Mother stood near them, hands clenched.
_Mother's scared. Don't be scared. I'm here. I'm Su._
_The only Su heir left. No pressure._
We bowed.
The Grand Consort smiled. "Children. In the Zhao family, when a new mother comes into the house, we have a ritual. All new children make tea. With your own hands. Serve the elders. It is a sign of respect. Of saying, 'I am willing to be part of this family.'"
Chén frowned. "A test, Grand Consort?"
She chuckled. "No, child. There is no right or wrong. Only your way. Begin."
_Not a test. Sure. Everything with old people is a test._
_But fine. I can make tea. Grandfather made me learn when I was eight. "If you can't make tea, you can't command men." Weird lesson. Still useful._
We moved to the tables.
I breathed. _Steady hands. Steady heart. You're Su. You're the only heir. Act like it._
MěiLíng finished first. Of course. She picked up her cup, perfect, and walked toward the platform.
She had to pass me.
I saw it — her foot angling. Her body tilting. The cup, ready to fly.
_Here we go. She's gonna fall. She's gonna scream "JiāYì pushed me"._
_Not today, Satan. Not today._
But my own foot caught the rug.
_YOU. STUPID. RUG._
_I'M GOING TO FEED YOU TO THE BRAZIER._
I gasped, arms flailing—
And didn't hit the floor.
A hand clamped on my upper arm. Another on my back. I was yanked upright, slammed for one second against something hard and warm and smelling like steel and pine and _absolute panic_.
_Armor. It's armor. It's HIS armor._
_Why is it warm. Why is HE warm. Why does he smell good. Armor shouldn't smell good._
_Grandfather, I am failing you in real time._
I looked up.
Regent Prince Zhào Chányán.
24 years old. Black armor. Golden eyes. Face like someone told a glacier to be pretty and it got offended.
_He's close. He's SO close. I can see the scar on his jaw. It's… it's…_
_NO. Not thinking about the scar. Scars are not relevant to survival._
"How long," he said, his voice low, right by my ear, "do you plan to stay in this position?"
_His voice. It's like… like gravel. And winter. And something that makes my brain stop working._
_Okay this guy is not bad looking. He's definitely not._
_OH NO. BAD THOUGHT. I'm 16. He's 24. That's EIGHT YEARS. That's ILLEGAL. That's—_
_Grandfather is dead and I'm dishonoring him. With THOUGHTS._
My face went supernova. I yeeted myself back from him. "I-I'm sorry, Regent Prince. Thank you."
_Don't look at him. Don't look at the eyelashes. Don't look at the scar. Don't look at the—_
_I looked. I'm weak. I'm so weak. Su daughters don't look._
He let go. Stepped back. But his eyes cut to MěiLíng. Frozen. Cup intact. Pale.
Chányán's voice went to absolute zero. "Your balance is improper, Hán MěiLíng. Watch your feet."
MěiLíng flinched. _HA._ Her mask cracked. Fury, then nothing. She curtsied. "Yes, Regent Prince. Forgive me."
He turned away like she was furniture.
_He knew. He KNEW she tried to frame me._
_And he shut her down. Without yelling. Without drama. Just… ice._
_That's terrifying. That's…_
_Stop. Don't think it's cool. It's not cool. It's…_
_Okay it's a little cool. Grandfather, I'll do 100 push-ups later. As penance._
The Grand Consort chuckled. "Chányán. You're back early. Good timing."
Chányán bowed. "Grandmother."
"Sit. Taste. And since you are here, let me introduce you all properly."
She pointed. "My eldest, Zhào Chányán, the Regent Prince. Twenty-four. Unmarried. Lethal. We're proud."
_Twenty-four. Not 30. Not ancient. Still older. Still off-limits. Still…_
_STOP._
"My second, Zhào YìChén. Twenty-two. Idiot."
"My youngest, Zhào MíngYuǎn. Nineteen. Bigger idiot. They will be your brothers now, if you choose to accept them."
We bowed. "Regent Prince. Second Prince. Third Prince."
---
*THE SERVING — EVERYBODY GETS THEIR OWN PLACE
*Hán MěiLíng* went first. Perfect. Sweet. She curtsied to the Grand Consort. "Grand Consort, please."
The Grand Consort sipped. "Good. Sweet. You have a gentle hand, child."
MěiLíng, inside: _One point. She likes me. I win._
*Hán Chén* was next. Scholar mode. He bowed to Lord Zhao. "Lord Zhao."
YùXuān took the cup, eyes sharp. "Thank you, Chén. Your hands are a scholar's. But your eyes miss nothing. Good."
Chén, inside: _He sees. He actually sees._
He moved to YìChén. "Second Prince."
YìChén took it, smirked. "Thanks. You look like you'd rather be dissecting this tea. In a book."
Chén, dry: "I would."
YìChén laughed. _I like him. He's prickly._
To MíngYuǎn: "Third Prince."
MíngYuǎn grinned. "Bookworm. You gonna teach me words later?"
Chén: "...No."
MíngYuǎn: "I'll take that as a yes."
To Chányán: "Regent Prince."
Chányán took the cup. Said nothing. Just nodded once.
Chén, inside: _He's terrifying. But he listens. That's worse._
*Hán Lì* bounced up. No grace. All energy. "Lord Zhao!"
YùXuān smiled. "Thank you, Lì. You have a swordsman's grip. Too tight. You'll snap the cup."
Lì loosened his hand, sheepish. _He knew! He KNEW!_
To YìChén: "Second Prince!"
YìChén: "Thanks. You look like trouble."
Lì, grinning: "I am trouble. Wanna see?"
YìChén: "After tea. Meet me in the yard. Bring that energy."
To MíngYuǎn: "Third Prince!"
MíngYuǎn: "You! Spar later? Please? I'm bored and gege won't let me fight real soldiers today."
Lì: "YES!"
_Brothers. I just got brothers. Real ones. Loud ones._
To Chányán: "Regent Prince!"
Chányán looked at his hands. "You hold a sword?"
Lì, startled: "Yes, Regent Prince."
Chányán: "Good. Don't hold a teacup like you're trying to kill it."
Lì, inside: _Was that… a joke. Did the scary prince make a joke. At me._
*Hán Míng* shuffled up, shaking. "L-Lord Zhao."
YùXuān took the cup with both hands, gentle. "Thank you, Míng. Good boy. Very brave."
Míng almost burst into tears. _He called me brave. He called me brave._
To YìChén: "Second Prince." Spilled a little.
YìChén caught the cup fast. "Whoa. Easy, little one. You're alright. Thanks."
Míng, inside: _He didn't get mad. He didn't get mad._
To MíngYuǎn: "Third Prince."
MíngYuǎn ruffled his hair. "Thanks, kid. You did good."
Míng smiled. Real. Small. _He touched my hair. Like Chén does._
To Chányán: "R-Regent Prince."
Chányán looked down. And his face… softened. Just a hair. "Thank you, Míng."
Míng bowed so low he almost fell. _He's scary but he's not mean to me. He's not._
*Hán MěiLíng* went again, for the men. Graceful. Weaponized.
To Lord Zhao: "Lord Zhao," curtsy, perfect.
YùXuān: "Thank you, MěiLíng. Very graceful."
MěiLíng, inside: _The father likes me. Good._
To YìChén: "Second Prince." Eyes down, lashes fluttering.
YìChén, blunt: "Thanks. You're very pretty. Does that work on everyone?"
MěiLíng blinked. _What._
YìChén: _I said what I said._
To MíngYuǎn: "Third Prince."
MíngYuǎn: "Thanks. You move like water. Slippery."
MěiLíng's smile tightened. _Are they… insulting me._
To Chányán: "Regent Prince," voice soft, vulnerable.
Chányán took the cup. "Thank you." Ice. Nothing else.
MěiLíng, inside: _He looked at me. Even after he scolded me, he looked at me. He WANTS to._
*Hán JiāYì* — my turn.
_Don't mess up. Don't trip. Don't think about him. Grandfather is watching. From wherever dead grandfathers watch._
To Lord Zhao: "Lord Zhao."
He smiled, kind. "Thank you, JiāYì. Your mother raised you well."
_My throat hurt. He mentioned Mother. He's proud of her. Good._
To YìChén: "Second Prince."
He winked. "Thanks. You're the one Grandmother likes, huh? Lucky."
"I'm not lucky," I said before I could stop myself. "I'm Su."
He barked a laugh. "Gods. You've got teeth. I like teeth."
_I have teeth. I'm 16 and I just snarled at a prince. Grandfather would be… probably proud?_
To MíngYuǎn: "Third Prince."
He grinned. "Not bad. You don't look scared of us. Most people piss themselves when gege looks at them."
"Should I be scared?" I asked.
He laughed. "Ask me again after you meet him in a bad mood."
_I already met him. In a bad mood. I almost died. And liked it. Oh god._
Then Chányán.
He was last. He was watching me. 24 years old and carrying every war in his eyes.
_Killer vibes. Maximum killer vibes. He looks like he could end me with a blink._
_Why is my heart trying to exit my body. Why are my hands sweating._
_He's not bad looking. He's definitely not. He's stupidly, unfairly not bad looking._
_I'm 16. He's 24. This is a CRIME. This is TREASON._
I held out the cup. "Regent Prince."
He took it. Our fingers brushed. Calloused. Warm. Rough.
_HIS HANDS. WHY AM I THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDS AGAIN._
_They're sword hands. Killer hands. They caught me. They didn't let me fall._
_STOP. STOP. STOP._
He drank. Said nothing. Just looked at me over the rim. Searching. Like I'm a locked box and he has the key.
_He's staring. He's STILL staring. Say something. Blink. DIE._
_Be a rock. Be a Su rock. Rocks don't have feelings. ROCKS DON'T BLUSH._
_I'm blushing. I'm going to die of blushing._
"Your tea is balanced," he said finally, voice low. "Like you. Or like you want to appear."
_Is that… is he calling me fake. Is he—_
_No. He's 24. He talks in riddles. Like a creepy, hot, old man._
_WAIT. HOT. I SAID HOT. I'M GOING TO JAIL._
"Thank you, Regent Prince."
He held my gaze. "Come to my study. At 6:00 pm sharp today."
My brain died. "Regent Prince?"
"6:00 pm sharp," he repeated. Not asking. Ordering. His eyes were ice. "Do not be late."
Then he turned away.
_He just… summoned me. Alone. To his study. At 6:00._
_What does he want. Does he know about my power. Did he see me see MěiLíng._
_Is he going to interrogate me. Is he going to…_
_Oh god. What if he's going to scold me. For the rug. For existing. For thinking he's not bad looking._
_I'd rather he execute me. Quicker. Less shame._
I stood there, cup in hand, heart trying to evolve into a bird and fly away.
_He's 24. I'm 16. He's the Regent Prince. I'm…_
_…Really, really aware of his jaw. And his voice. And his hands. And his scar._
_Grandfather is dead and I'm dishonoring him with my EYES._
I looked at Mother. She heard. She knew. Her face was white. _My baby. What does he want with my baby?_
I lowered my eyes and stepped back.
All the way, I felt his eyes on my back. Like a blade. Like a promise. Like a problem.
And I knew, with a certainty that had nothing to do with my power, that the Regent Prince, Zhào Chányán, was going to be a problem.
A very big, very dangerous, very interesting, very _not-bad-looking_ problem.
_Interesting. I thought interesting again. I'm doomed. I'm so doomed._
_I'm 16. I'm the only Su heir left. Grandfather's gone. I can't have a crush. I can't._
_But I do. I think I do. Or something worse. Something… curious._
_Ugh. I hate him. I hate me. I hate being 16._
And at 6:00 pm sharp, I would have to face him alone.
_6:00. Three hours._
_Three hours to panic. Three hours to remember every single thing Grandfather taught me about not dying._
_Three hours to…_
_…not change my dress. I'm NOT changing my dress. That would be suspicious. That would be—_
_Is this dress okay. It's fine. It's practical. It's…_
_I AM NOT THINKING ABOUT DRESSES. I'm Su. Su thinks about war. And tea. And NOT CHÁNYÁN._
I made it three steps before it hit me.
The vision. The one from before. The hallway. Him, close to me, golden eyes narrowed. _"You're hiding something. What is it?"_
It wasn't a future.
It was _tonight_.
At 6:00 pm. In his study.
He already knew.
Something about me ..
---