Chapter Nine: Scrolls of the Forbidden Wing
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The Emperor's private library, also called the Forbidden Wing, was not a place anyone walked into—unless they had a death wish or a direct blood tie to the dragon throne.
Meiyun had neither.
But she did have Prince Wei Lian.
Dressed in low-ranking steward robes and guided by Wei Lian's old friend—Captain Hu, the head of the Shadow Sentinels—they slipped through the tunnels beneath the East Pavilion. Dust choked the air. The torch in Hu's hand flickered against the walls, illuminating carvings no one had looked at in years—carvings of the first Emperor curing plague with a sacred pulse map drawn from dragon bones.
The deeper they went, the colder it became.
"Are you sure about this?" Hu muttered.
"No," Meiyun replied. "But I'm certain we have no choice."
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The Forbidden Wing was eerily silent. Long hallways lined with scrolls sealed in jade boxes and bone-stitched silk tomes stood like soldiers on duty. No guards. No torches. Only silence.
"This place is a trap," Wei Lian whispered. "Either for us—or for secrets."
They found the Shuang Pulse Archive hidden behind a false wall. Meiyun ran her fingers over the dusty shelf. There—half-faded ink on an aged scroll, the title hidden behind soot:
"On the Separation and Reunion of Yin and Yang Pulses in Lineal Heirs."
She unrolled it. The diagrams were complex, but familiar. Her mother's handwriting flickered through the margins—corrections, notes, additions.
"This is it," Meiyun breathed.
"A counter-pulse?" Wei Lian asked.
She nodded. "It's a reversal technique. But it needs a mirror pulse to function. Two healers trained in the same school, with matching internal flow..."
Her voice trailed off.
"Like you and Ru," Wei Lian finished.
Meiyun's hand trembled.
The problem was, Consort Ru had gone rogue. Her energy was corrupted. There was only one person left trained in the same ancient art—Meiyun herself.
She would have to mirror her greatest enemy. And if she got it wrong, it wouldn't just kill her. It could rupture every vital point along the Emperor's body.
Suddenly, the air shifted.
A soft click echoed behind them.
They turned—but it was too late.
Steel bars dropped from the ceiling, slamming shut with a roar. The library's secret defense. A cage of iron laced with toxin dust.
From the shadows, a figure stepped forward—clad in royal crimson.
Consort Ru.
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"You have your mother's eyes," she said, voice silken and amused. "And just like her, you've let them see too much."
Meiyun held the scroll tighter.
"Poisoning the court?" she said. "Eliminating bloodlines? Is that all you are, Ru?"
The Consort smiled. "No, child. I am survival. This palace chews women like me into dust. I simply chose not to be chewed."
Wei Lian stepped in front of Meiyun. "Let us out."
"Why would I do that?" Ru tilted her head. "You're already exactly where I want you. The girl has the scroll. The prince is branded as traitor. And the only witness to my little serum is now inside a sealed death chamber. How poetic."
She turned.
"Enjoy suffocating."
But before she could take another step, Meiyun hurled the torch into a scroll rack behind her. Flame roared to life, devouring aged silk and oil-treated paper.
Ru spun, fury flashing in her eyes.
"You fool!"
Meiyun stepped forward, calm despite the heat licking the air. "I may die here—but I'll take your lies with me."
That's when Wei Lian struck.
He leapt, catching the Consort off guard, and twisted the fire-stone hidden in her belt—the emergency mechanism. The steel bars groaned, retracting with a screech.
"Run!" he shouted.
They tore through the smoke-filled halls, scrolls crashing behind them, flame chasing their heels. When they burst out into the tunnel again, Meiyun collapsed against the wall, coughing, shaking.
Wei Lian grabbed her face gently. "Are you hurt?"
"Only my pride," she said, forcing a smile.
In her hand, the scroll was scorched—but intact.
---
Hours later, back in Meiyun's quarters, they sat in silence. Wei Lian's sleeve was singed. Her hair was tangled with ash.
"Ru won't let this go," he said.
"She won't have time to retaliate," Meiyun replied. "I'm going to challenge her."
"To what?"
"To a healer's duel."
Wei Lian stared.
"She'll never accept that."
"She will," Meiyun whispered. "Because I'll call for it publicly. In front of the Emperor. She's proud—too proud to decline without looking guilty. And if she refuses… the court will suspect."
Wei Lian ran a hand through his hair. "This is madness."
"This is the Ming Court," Meiyun said, voice steely. "And I was born for this."