The hall was alive with a vibrant hum of conversation and energy. It was a special gathering. The Prime Minister was giving a speech. He was an old man, respected by everyone. His face had many lines, like an old map, but his eyes were still clear. Prince Wen Zhi stood near the edge of the crowd, watching Jian walk to the front. Jian wore fine robes, embroidered with gold. He looked like a leader, carrying himself with calm dignity.
Wen Zhi felt that familiar feeling start. The silver shimmer. It was like a faint mist at the edges of his sight, growing thicker. It showed him small pieces of what was about to happen. Little moments. Things he could see before they happened.
Jian began to speak. His voice was deep and clear, filling the large hall. He spoke about unity. He said the Nine Realms needed to stand together. He talked about old promises, ancient pacts that held the realms together.
"These promises are important," he said. "They are like the strong roots of a great tree. They keep everything strong."
Wen Zhi listened. He heard Jian's words, but his silver vision showed other things. Quick flashes. A brief moment of darkness. A loud noise. A feeling of panic. It was like a sudden storm in his mind. The flashes were too fast, too confusing. They made him feel uneasy. A deep worry started to grow in his chest. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
He looked at Jian. The old minister spoke with passion. He believed in his words. But Wen Zhi's silver vision showed him Jian's future: a brief moment. Jian collapsing. A look of shock on his face. Wen Zhi frowned. He knew it wasn't far away. The unease grew stronger.
Meanwhile, Princess Cao Zhen stood a little further back in the hall. She watched Jian speak. Her amber sight was active, as always. She saw the echoes of the past in the hall. Faint shapes of people from long ago. Sounds of past conversations. Emotions hanging in the air.
She saw the echo of Jian himself. It was from earlier that day, in a secluded garden. Zhen remembered sensing it as she walked through the palace. Jian was there. He was not speaking calmly. He was talking to someone. His voice was not strong. It was low and urgent. Zhen could feel his fear. It was a strong echo. It made her pay close attention.
In the garden echo, Jian's shoulders were slumped. He looked worried. He was talking to another person. Zhen couldn't see their face clearly in the echo. It was just a shadowy shape. But she sensed their presence.
Jian seemed desperate. "They are planning something," the echo of Jian seemed to say. "Something terrible."
He spoke about the ancient pacts. He said they were being forgotten. Or worse, being changed. He sounded afraid for the future. Zhen focused, trying to hear more of the echo. But it was faint. The hurried footsteps and noise of the present hall kept interfering. Still, the feeling of Jian's fear was undeniable. It was a cold, sharp echo in the warm, crowded room.
Back in the main hall, Jian continued his speech. He spoke of how the ancient pacts were like a shield. They protected the Nine Realms from war. He said that now, the shield was weakening. He urged everyone to remember the old ways. To honor the agreements made long ago.
Wen Zhi watched him. The silver flashes came again, quicker now. A sense of falling. A sharp sound. A feeling of confusion. He saw Jian's face in his vision, pale and shocked. It was going to happen soon. He felt it in his bones. But he didn't know what caused it. The flashes were too chaotic.
He glanced at Zhen. She was looking intently at Jian. Her amber vision was strong. He wondered what she was seeing. Her gift was about the past. He was about the future. They were different. But maybe they could help each other.
Jian was reaching the end of his speech. He raised his voice slightly.
"We must not forget," he said. "The echoes of the past must guide us. They are our strength."
As Jian spoke these words, Zhen felt a powerful surge of an echo. It was Jian himself, earlier that day, in the garden. His voice, filled with fear, was clearer now. "They are planning something," the echo repeated, more clearly this time.
"They want to erase history. To forget everything. This pact… It's the key. You must remember it."
Zhen's eyes widened slightly. Erase history? Forget everything? That sounded terrible. It was a strange thing to say. What did it mean? She focused, trying to catch more words from Jian's echo. But the present noise of the hall grew louder. The silver shimmer around Wen Zhi seemed to intensify.
Wen Zhi felt a sharp, sudden jolt. His silver vision showed him a brief, terrifying image. Not of Jian speaking, but of something falling. Something heavy. And a loud crash. It was very close. It was going to happen right now.
He looked towards Jian. The old minister was at the very end of his speech. He seemed to be taking a final bow. Wen Zhi's silver sight showed him something above Jian. A large, heavy object. An ornate chandelier. It was about to fall. Right onto Jian.
Wen Zhi's mind raced. Five minutes. He saw it happening now. He couldn't stop it. It was too sudden. But maybe… maybe he could change something. He looked around quickly. His eyes scanned the crowd, the positions of people.
He saw Zhen. She was standing not too far from Jian. She was looking at Jian, her expression thoughtful. Her amber vision was likely picking up Jian's past words. She was in the path of the falling chandelier in Wen Zhi's silver vision.
He didn't hesitate. His movements were swift, precise, driven by the future he saw. He didn't shout. He didn't cause a scene. He moved with quiet urgency. He walked quickly towards Zhen. His intention was not to push her, but to subtly guide her.
"Princess," he said, his voice low but firm, as he reached her side.
"A moment, if you please." He gently placed a hand on her arm, not to hold her, but to steer her. He guided her a few steps to the side, away from the spot directly below the chandelier. His movements were so smooth, so natural, that it looked like a polite gesture.
Zhen, surprised by his sudden approach, felt his hand on her arm. She was pulled slightly to the side. Her amber sight was still focused on the echoes of Jian's fearful words. She was momentarily distracted.
Just as Wen Zhi moved her, there was a creak from above. A loud groan of metal. Then, with a terrifying roar, the huge, ornate chandelier detached from the ceiling. It plunged downwards. It fell with incredible speed, smashing onto the floor exactly where Zhen had been standing a second before. Crystal pieces and heavy metal were scattered everywhere.
A gasp went through the crowd. People screamed. Guards rushed forward. Chaos erupted.
Wen Zhi held Zhen's arm for a moment, ensuring she was safe. He looked at the wreckage. His silver vision had shown him this. He had seen the falling chandelier. He had seen Zhen in its path. And he had acted.
Zhen was shaken. She stared at the destroyed chandelier. Her amber sight, momentarily interrupted, now focused on the scene. She saw the echo of the chandelier falling. But she also saw something else. A faint echo around the chandelier's support. A shape of someone tampering with it. Not an accident. It was done on purpose.
She looked at Wen Zhi. His face was calm, serious. He had saved her. His movements had been incredibly fast. He had known it was coming. She remembered his quick words, his firm touch. He had seen it in the future.
Wen Zhi looked at Jian. The old minister was safe. He was being shielded by guards. He looked shocked, but unharmed. He was looking at the chandelier, then at the crowd. His silver vision of Jian collapsing hadn't happened. The falling chandelier had hit the floor instead.
Jian looked around, his eyes scanning the panicked faces. He looked confused. He had expected something else. Wen Zhi felt a pang of unease. Had he changed the future too much? Had he only delayed the inevitable?
Zhen, still processing the event, felt a strong echo from the chandelier's resting place. It wasn't just the echo of the crash. It was something older. A faint, cold presence. And mixed with it, the lingering echo of Jian's earlier words in the garden."They are planning something… They want to erase history."
She looked at Wen Zhi. He met her gaze. In his eyes, she saw a flicker of understanding. He had seen the future. He had acted. She had sensed the past, the fear, the warning. They were on opposite sides of time, but they were both seeing things others could not. Wen Zhi spoke, his voice quiet but steady, cutting through the lingering panic.
"High Minister Jian is unharmed. The danger has passed."
He looked around the hall, his silver foresight already showing him the immediate reactions of the crowd and the guards. Jian, regaining his composure, stepped forward. He looked at the chandelier, then at the people. He seemed shaken, but also determined. He raised his hand, calling for calm.
"This," Jian said, his voice resonating with newfound gravity, "is a sign. A warning. It seems the forces that wish to sow discord have acted." He looked directly at Wen Zhi and Zhen, his gaze sharp and knowing for a moment.
"We are in times of great peril. The ancient pacts, the very history that binds us, are under threat."
Wen Zhi felt a cold dread. Jian was right. This wasn't just a random accident. It was part of the larger plan. His silver vision had shown him the falling chandelier, but not why it fell. Zhen's amber vision had shown Jian's fear, his words about erasing history.
They were the only ones who truly understood. He, who saw the future. She, who saw the past. They were standing at the edge of something vast and terrible. The chaos in the hall was just the beginning. The real danger was hidden, like a shadow waiting in the wings.
Zhen felt the echoes in the hall shift. The initial shock was fading, replaced by whispers and questions. She saw faint echoes of fear in the eyes of the guards, confusion in the faces of the nobles. But she also sensed something else. A hidden calm in some. A sense of… satisfaction? In a few of the shadows, she observed.
Wen Zhi's silver foresight showed him the immediate future. The inquiry would focus on finding the cause of the chandelier's fall, looking for structural flaws or careless workers. They would miss the deliberate act. They would miss the true meaning.
He looked at Zhen again. Their eyes met. A silent understanding passed between them. They couldn't rely on the official investigation. They had to work together. He saw the future. She saw the past. They were the only ones who could truly see what was happening. The unease that had started as a small tremor in Wen Zhi's chest was now a cold certainty. The gilded cage of Jinyang held a dangerous secret, and their journey to uncover it had just begun. The weight of what they had seen, the future and the past, settled upon them, a heavy cloak of responsibility. The calm, dignified speech had ended in chaos, and the true complexity of their mission was starting to reveal itself.