Chapter 20: Secrets in the Breeze
The sea breeze rolled gently across the villa grounds, bending the bamboo trees in waves of grace. The morning light glinted off glass panels and marble columns, making everything look deceptively calm. But the air inside the house told a different story.
Everyone had heard something the night before.
A door closing.
A whisper down the corridor.
The creak of footsteps that never echoed.
Su Ruyin had woken in the middle of the night and stared at her ceiling for an hour, listening to the wind and wondering why it carried the scent of jasmine. She sat up, poured herself a glass of water, and thought of Li Chen's voice—calm, powerful, too often wrapped in silence.
Shen Lihua found a single black feather on her windowsill at dawn. She didn't believe in omens—but she didn't discard it either. She picked it up gently and placed it inside the drawer where she kept her most private letters. Later that day, she would forget it was even there, but its presence would linger.
Even Zhao Yuwei, who had fallen asleep fully clothed in the security room, dreamt of a voice calling her name from under water. She jolted awake with a gasp, hand on the pistol beneath her pillow, sweat soaking her collarbone. No alert. No breach. Just echoes of something buried.
Something had shifted again.
Not loudly.
But undeniably.
---
Li Chen emerged late that morning, dressed simply in navy linen. He crossed the courtyard barefoot, his eyes soft, his movements unhurried. If anyone expected him to explain what happened the night before, he gave them no such luxury.
Lin Qingyu did not appear at breakfast. Not out of shame or fear—but strategy.
Su Yanxi, however, arrived early.
She wore a peach-colored robe, embroidered with gold-threaded lotuses, and sat at the table like she'd always belonged there. She sipped her citrus tea in silence until Su Mei arrived.
Their eyes met.
"Did you sleep well?" Su Mei asked casually.
"Well enough to remember what I'm capable of," Su Yanxi replied.
"And did he remember too?"
Su Yanxi smiled but did not answer. Silence could be a more dangerous truth than words.
The conversation drifted. Topics changed—from the upcoming tea harvest to Xiaoyan's garden paintings—but the tension lingered like perfume. It was war in silk gloves.
---
Later that day, Su Mei found herself in the garden library with Xiaoyan, both pretending to read. A book lay open on Xiaoyan's lap, but her eyes hadn't moved in twenty minutes.
"Is she going to stay?" Xiaoyan asked, voice low.
"She will stay until she's finished what she came for," Su Mei replied.
"What is that, exactly?"
"To decide whether she belongs here."
"Don't we all have to decide that?"
"No," Su Mei said, closing her book. "Some of us were chosen. Some summoned. Some just arrived... but she, she challenges."
Xiaoyan shivered slightly and closed her book too. She turned to look at the glass reflecting the lotus pond outside.
"Do you think she'll ruin everything?"
Su Mei stood up and smoothed the wrinkles from her dress. "I think she'll test everything. And whether it breaks or bends... depends on the rest of us."
---
By mid-afternoon, the wind had shifted.
Su Ruyin played the piano softly in the music room, her fingers grazing familiar notes. The door opened behind her. She didn't stop playing.
"I wondered when you'd come," she said.
Su Yanxi walked in, arms folded.
"You remember this piece," Ruyin said.
"You used to play it during that winter in Hangzhou."
"You were quieter then."
"I was planning then."
"Are you planning now?"
Su Yanxi walked closer. "Always."
Ruyin stopped playing and turned to face her. "You've already stirred everything. What more do you want?"
"To see what breaks."
"And when it does?"
"I'll see who remains."
"You always loved tests."
"No. I just loved results."
---
In the observatory, Shen Lihua sat with Li Chen, their knees nearly touching, the wind playing with strands of her hair.
"You chose a difficult woman to recall," she said.
"She wasn't recalled. She chose to answer."
"That doesn't absolve your role in this."
"I didn't summon her to hurt you."
Shen Lihua laughed—quiet and bitter. "You summoned her to hurt yourself. And in doing so, you cut the rest of us too."
He didn't deny it.
"I'm not afraid of pain," he said.
"You should be," she whispered. "Because one day, we'll stop bandaging it for you."
They sat in silence, the wind whistling like a warning.
---
That night, the moon rose red over the sea. In the eastern garden, Su Mei, Xiaoyan, and Ruyin sat around the koi pond, sipping warm rice wine and eating sweet lotus cakes. It felt like a ceremony, though no one called it one.
"Did you ever think it would get this... layered?" Ruyin asked.
"I always knew it would get worse before it got better," Su Mei said.
"But is this better?" Xiaoyan asked, eyes on the moon.
"It's change," Su Mei said. "And change has no moral compass."
They toasted softly. Their glasses clinked like whispers.
---
In the inner sanctum, Zhao Yuwei re-checked security logs. All clear. She reviewed facial recognition pings. Normal. Still, she felt it—like something watched her not from outside, but within.
She lit a single candle and placed it near the door.
"Let it find me first," she whispered.
---
At midnight, Li Chen stood again in the central hall. Alone.
He was about to return to his quarters when he noticed the sliding door to the moon-viewing terrace was slightly ajar.
He walked through it.
There, beneath the lantern light, stood Lin Qingyu.
She didn't speak.
She walked up to him, took his hand, and placed something in his palm.
A photograph.
The one she had torn apart.
Now perfectly restored.
"How?" he asked.
"I never threw it away."
She stepped back.
"You don't need to prove anything. But I needed you to know that I remember."
Then she walked away.
And he stood there, staring at a picture of a moment he never expected to relive.
---
At the same time, Su Yanxi opened her window and stared at the moonlight. Her robe rustled in the wind. Her eyes were glassy.
She whispered one word into the wind:
"Not yet."
And closed the window.
End of Chapter 20.