Vivian

The journey south had been long—mercifully smooth, but heavy with tension.

After a week of bickering negotiations, travel games, and weathering storms that clawed at the sky, the group finally broke through the border wards of the territories surrounding the Independent City of Seran. The shift was immediate. The air changed—cooler, clearer, humming with structured mana instead of the erratic chaos energy of the frontier.

From Seran, they moved quickly, skirting the edges of two more independent sister cities of Seran whose names Vivian didn’t know, until they wandered through a high-plains desert, Mo Tan, which was so barren that no one claimed it and that marked the border between Seran independence and the Empire. (The Seran City-States were surrounded by Imperial lands with no direct access to the sea.)

What followed was more lands claimed by Seran but that no one really used and was mostly more chaos rot. For the next three days they rode through the broken terrain—black stone ridges that jutted from the earth like the bones of some buried titan, glassy plains where lightning scars shimmered underfoot, and valleys that breathed fog even under sunlight.

Then came the High Cut, the treacherous mountain pass that divided the patchy chaos lands from Imperial soil. It was a wound in the range, carved long ago by something more divine than human, its cliffs sheer and its air thin as truth. Crossing it felt like stepping through history’s last argument.

When they emerged on the far side, the world changed.

The jagged rock fell away into rolling green. The wind softened, scented with salt and rain. Lush terraces unfolded down the slopes—fields of grain, orchards heavy with fruit, and streams so clear they looked like strips of sky laid across the earth. Vines draped from cliffs, flowers spilled from cracks in the stone, and the dense jungle below pulsed with life.

After the chaos and ruin of the north, it was almost obscene how alive it felt.

Solcarin, the southern Imperial city, rose from that green sea like a jeweled citadel—walls of pale stone and gold-rimmed domes gleaming beneath the coastal sun. Airships circled lazily overhead, and bridges of light connected the upper tiers like threads of woven moonlight. Solcarin was a pleasure/resort town that was one of the places where the Empire indulged in excess.

It was breathtaking.

Too breathtaking.

Vivian, watching from the carriage window, caught herself staring. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

Sophie didn’t disagree, but her Insight thrummed uneasily. “It’s too beautiful.”

The others felt it too—the faint dissonance humming beneath the perfection. Something about the way the trees bowed in the wind, the way the mana in the air moved as if choreographed. The land wasn’t just fertile—it was awake.

They passed through Solcarin quickly, avoiding notice where they could. Marissa’s credentials smoothed the way through the city gates, and from there, the Zhou household’s southern estate lay only a day’s ride beyond—a sprawling manor nestled along the Solcarin coast, where jungle met ocean and cliffs dropped straight into the surf.

As the estate called SummerTower appeared against the horizon—elegant, fortified, quietly waiting—none of them spoke for a long time.

After all the chaos, all the ruin, the sudden beauty of the south felt like a lie told too well.

And somewhere deep in the back of her mind, Sophie’s Insight whispered what none of them wanted to say aloud.

Pretty things rarely stay that way for long.

Vivian didn’t trust it.

The mana in the soil pulsed steady and thick. The trees bore fruit too easily. The air hummed with resonance that didn’t match the maps. This land wasn’t stable—it was resisting decay.

Still, she couldn’t deny it had charm.

By the time they reached the Zhou family’s southern estate just after sunset—carved into a cliff that hung over an endless stretch of pale blue sea—the girls were in high spirits again. Sophie corrected Marissa’s grammar mid-sentence; the twins debated whether moon-peaches grew better in southern mist or sun-sheltered valleys. Anmei just lounged like she’d lived here her whole life.

Vivian tried not to look down at her message crystal.

Still no reply.

Ethan had been surprisingly diligent about updates since that initial message several days prior. Now they were messaging about all sorts of things. Logistics. Sync tests. Casual notes about rune failures and core tuning. Then:

Ethan: “Your father has been asking about you. I was a little surprised you haven’t kept in touch. He had to head up to the northern borderlands for some sort of conference and is going to be unavailable for several days, so send him a message when you have the chance so he knows you’re okay.”

That message surprised her. She got regular updates from her father through the Li Intelligence Wing; why would he ask Ethan to message her?

Strange.

She tried to turn the topic to more personal messages without getting too specific. She wanted to talk about their journey and the Framework and why he might need Divine Moonsteel, but she didn’t want to sound… uninformed. So she kept hinting.

But her husband was not getting the hint.

They had interacted more in the last several days than they had in their first month of marriage.

That seemed like a good thing.

“Big sister,” Emily said as she slid onto the stone bench beside her. “You should really smile more. Your ice-cold maiden look is devastating, but I don’t think any man could withstand a blow from your smile.”

Vivian raised a brow. “I wasn’t smiling.”

“You were,” Elise confirmed from across the path. “It’s the crystal, isn’t it?”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Sure,” Elise said, with a sly grin. “Well. We do. You seem to be checking messages rather often. Could it be that our brother is actually responding?”

Vivian tried to glare but had a hard time hiding the stupid grin on her face.

“See, Sister Vi! Look how much you’re smiling! You totally love Brother Ethan!”

Vivian narrowed her eyes, but the grin on her face kept manifesting. “Are you suggesting that I am pining after a man? Me? The Crane of House Li?”

Emily grinned. “Of course not, Sister Li. Would I say something like that? Everyone knows how beautiful and aloof Vivian Li is.”

Elise leaned forward. “You should kiss Brother so hard that it takes his breath away.”

Before Vivian could formulate a response, Sophie spoke—smooth and imperious as ever.

“My reports indicate that Ethan is heavily engaged with his recruits and the new medicine he is producing,” she said. “Any good wife would know that it would be counterproductive to interrupt his workflow for something as minor as casual messages.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed faintly. Medicine. Yes, the medicine—Gavin told her about it after some rather poignant requests from her; there had been some mention of it in the reports but it was almost an afterthought following the Framework discussion. Turns out the medicine he created was almost as revolutionary as the Framework itself. She wasn’t sure why she was surprised. Ethan had saved her mother five years ago. She hadn’t even been in the country when it happened. Never met him before their wedding night. It seemed stupid now that she hadn’t thought about—or cared about—one more thing her husband excelled at.

This new elixir—she, again, really didn’t know much about it. But she didn’t want Sophie to know that. So she narrowed her eyes and lifted her chin. “My husband wants to communicate with me, and he appreciates it when I send him pictures. Princess, I think you’re underestimating my husband. He can change the world and communicate properly with his wife; it’s what happens when you’re a genius.”

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Sophie’s expression didn’t flicker. “I am sure he’s dying to chat about the wife that would rather be in seclusion than by his side.”

The two women glared at each other.

Anmei, who had been half-asleep with her legs stretched across a sun-heated ledge, yawned. “You’re all so uptight.”

Vivian didn’t respond.

Anmei rolled onto her elbows and grinned. “If you want his attention, Vivi, just send him a naked message.”

Vivian froze. The twins covered their faces and giggled, cheeks going red. Marissa looked like she was about to hit her head against a wall, as if to wonder why she hadn’t thought of that. Sophie blinked, her face caught between horror and possibility. She seemed to consider what Anmei said. Elizabeth just sighed.

“You all act like you’ve never sent a naked message before. Well, trust me. It’s effective,” Anmei said breezily. “If you want to motivate a man—I mean really motivate him—I cannot think of a better way. Give him something to look forward to. Especially since you’re far away. If you’re looking for a reaction, Vivi, do that. You have a decent body, after all.”

“Anmei,” Vivian said, tone icy, “is that all you ever think about?”

“I like fighting too.” Anmei shrugged innocently. “I’m just saying—if you won’t, I could. I bet the genius scholar could use a bit of volume and fire in his life. And no need to thank me. I’m thoughtful like that. Trust me.”

Anmei pointed to her luscious figure. “I would motivate the crap out of him.”

She gave Vivian a wide grin.

Vivian’s voice dropped a half-octave. “Send my husband pictures of your body and I’ll gut you in your sleep.”

Anmei smiled sweetly. “Oh, that’s cute, Lady Li.”

Emily and Elise covered their mouths, clearly scandalized. Marissa rolled her eyes. Sophie looked like she was holding back a smirk.

“She’s not kidding,” Sophie said with a raised eyebrow.

“I know she’s not,” Anmei said, sitting back, her grin turning completely predatory. “That’s what makes it fun.”

Vivian took a long, calming breath. Anmei was just trying to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t serious about trying to seduce Ethan.

At least she didn’t think she was serious.

Thankfully, that was when the transport came to a stop and a Zhou family steward appeared—gray-robed and flustered, clearly caught between protocol and panic.

“Apologies,” he said, bowing stiffly. “This is private property—this is the Zhou family’s southern cliff estate. We weren’t informed of any noble delegation today.”

Elise stepped from the carriage, waving, Emily just behind. “Relax, Dennis. It’s just me, Emily, and some friends. Nothing official.”

Dennis blinked. “Miss Elise? And Miss Emily? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you at school? You came on your own? The southern highway is dangerous—the Matron is going to be beside herself and your parents will be furious.”

“They also said I couldn’t train with live blades,” she said with a wink. “But I didn’t cut off my own leg and we arrived here just fine. It is good to see you, Dennis.”

Vivian exited the transport. “Dennis, was it? Hello. Vivian Li of House Li; we apologize for not informing the Matron about our arrival.”

The steward seemed to go weak. “Lady Li?! The Second Young Master’s wife? Oh—wow, hello, my lady—”

Sophie stepped forward, calm and radiant. “Yes, we apologize for our abrupt arrival. I will make sure everyone in this house is rewarded. And I am Princess Sophie Virelyn, of the House of Virelyn. The Imperial House thanks you for your understanding.”

Dennis’s face went pale. “Princess? Like—the Princess. What? Wait? Uh? Oh—Your Highness, I am sorry we weren’t prepared to greet you—”

Emily interrupted. “Relax, Dennis. We came without warning. Nothing to apologize for.”

Vivian inclined her head slightly. “We’re here unofficially. A quiet visit. I’m sure you understand the need for discretion.”

Dennis bowed again. “Perfectly, Lady Li. At once. Please—come in, all of you.”

The estate was breathtaking. Built into the cliff itself, the manor overlooked a white-sand beach far below. The crashing waves echoed up the stone walls like thunder locked in a cage. Moonlight painted silver across the dark water, illuminating a view that felt impossibly serene.

It felt… untouched.

But Vivian’s instincts wouldn’t rest.

They were shown to their rooms and, within an hour, gathered for dinner in the glass hall—high windows open to the surf, enchanted torches flickering with gentle blue flame.

“Elise, this place is stunning,” Vivian said over wine. “Do you visit often?”

Emily shook her head. “Not as much as we’d like. Father’s always working. Mother’s constantly politicking. Ethan’s been off doing research, and Caleb—well, training.”

“Her parents are obsessed with rebuilding, and that takes time,” Marissa said gently.

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Rebuilding from what?”

Emily hesitated. “It’s… complicated. A generation ago, our family was nearly wiped out. We were a Tier-3 house—deep in government, the academies, even the Tower.”

Marissa nodded. “Their grandfather lost everything. Scholars say it was political sabotage. Others say it was a failed cultivation experiment that caused the death of some important people.”

“No one really talks about it,” Emily said softly. “All I know is—our family fell. Hard. Father doesn’t like to mention it. We’ve been climbing back ever since.”

Vivian looked out across the sea, lips pursed.

And for a moment—just a moment—she thought she saw something move in the moonlight across the water.

The steward led them through the outer courtyard into the estate proper. Despite the hour, the household was unusually still. No distant clatter of kitchen staff. No servants watering the moss gardens. No incense trails curling from the shrine towers. It wasn’t abandoned, but it felt… muted.

Vivian walked at the front of the group, Sophie at her side, eyes scanning every archway and shadowed balcony. The twins trailed behind them, half-whispering about the faint smell of lavender and stone. Anmei yawned again, but even she was unusually quiet. Elizabeth just watched, and Marissa was nowhere to be found.

The interior of the main hall was breathtaking.

Woven spirit-glass filtered pale blue light through open skylights. The walls were carved directly from the cliff, etched with half-eroded scripture that shimmered when their footsteps echoed. Every tile bore a family sigil—Zhou, etched in layered silver and black.

A group of servants bowed as they entered. These were stewards of a southern estate—older cultivators dressed in formal silks, sashes of Zhou blue pinned with bronze crests. They looked practical and worn, but sharp-eyed—alert.

At their head stood a woman in twilight robes with silver cuffs stacked high on both arms. Her white hair was braided into a crown. Her posture was upright. Her energy? Absolute matron.

“Ladies,” she said, nodding at Sophie, then Marissa, and finally—lingering—at Vivian. “Lady Emily, Elise, I didn’t hear from your parents. Why didn’t you let me know you were coming? I would have stocked the kitchen with that spirit marrow you like so much.”

The twins grinned and ran up to hug the woman. “We missed you!”

She squeezed the girls. “You’ve grown into such beautiful young women! I am so glad to see you.”

She greeted Marissa with a hug. “You’re as beautiful as ever, Lady Lin.”

“Thank you, Auntie.”

Then she turned to the others, eyes narrowing slightly—not with suspicion, but with the practiced weight of someone who remembered everything.

Then she smiled.

“You must be Lady Vivian Li.”

Vivian gave a slight bow. “Oh—you know me. Uh—yes, I am.”

The matron’s face lit up. “Of course, child. You’re the Crane of the Li House. Everyone knows you. I’ve been dying to meet you. I was hoping little Ethan would bring you here. But I am glad to meet you even if he is not. You’re every bit as pretty as pictures and the icons describe.”

That earned a subtle look from Sophie. Marissa’s brow quirked, but she said nothing. Vivian smirked at them both while Elizabeth continued to observe.

“I’m Lady Yali. I manage the southern holding for the Zhou family, but more importantly—” she tapped her own shoulder lightly, “—I’ve known these children, including your husband, since he was barely tall enough to reach my tea shelf.”

Vivian blinked. Just once.

Lady Yali chuckled. “Oh, don’t look like that. The whole family used to spend summers here. The boy was always underfoot—breaking things, rebuilding them, drawing arrays on my pantry doors. We adored him. I was scared that he was going to retreat into his lab when that unfortunate situation with that Wang girl transpired. But it ended up working in your favor. Ethan was a much better match for you than Master Caleb; that would have been a disaster.”

Wow, this woman was a talker.

“Anyway, I’m just glad I got to see you,” Yali said, eyes crinkling. “Ethan isn’t exactly a talker and always has his head in the clouds. I thought he’d forget about us. He’s always been quiet about the things that matter.”

Then she leaned in slightly, her tone softening. “But he is very protective of the people who do.”

Vivian said nothing. She wasn’t sure what response Yali expected—and she wasn’t about to ask.

Lady Yali stepped back and turned to the attendants. “The east wing is ready. Let’s get them settled and give the ladies privacy while seeing to their provisions. They’ll want to decompress after such a long journey.”

She turned. “Not what you are used to, girls, but it will help you sleep and recover while we prepare the west wing.”

As the stewards moved to obey, Yali glanced back one last time.

The rooms she led them to were not guest quarters—at least not in any noble sense. They were sparse, functional, the air cool and dry. Old ward-glyphs shimmered faintly on the walls, their mana long since fused into the stone. The faint hum of stabilizing energy filled the space, steady as a heartbeat.

“I’ve never liked the east wing,” Emily whispered as they unpacked. “They feel like an archive or a storehouse. It feels like… a tomb.”

Anmei shrugged, already sprawled across her bed. “I think it fits our adventure. Cold and mysterious. I’ll take creepy monks over in-laws any day.”

Vivian stood by the window, overlooking the sea. The waves were calm—too calm. The horizon shimmered faintly under the light of the rising moons.

She tapped her message crystal again. Still no reply.

“He should’ve responded by now,” she murmured.

Sophie, seated near the brazier, looked up. “If he’s focused on military work, you may not hear anything until morning. He mentioned signal disruptions in the southern range.”

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “And how do you know that.”

Sophie gave her a sweet smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “You have your secrets and I have mine.”

Everyone moved with purpose over the next hour. They cleaned up in the bathing rooms; food was brought to the quarters, which most ate with relative silence. The food was good—the characteristic spiciness of the south mixed with yogurt, tomatoes, and a kind of flatbread that Vivian had never had before. It was surprisingly yummy.

After the women retreated to their rooms, Ethan finally responded.

Ethan:I am wiped. Need to get to sleep. I hope you made it safe. Goodnight, wife.

She read it twice. Then she set the crystal down on the table beside her and tried to focus on the sound of the surf. The steady rhythm should have been soothing. It wasn’t.

That night, the dreams came.

She stood in a landscape of silver sand, the sea turned black and still. A sword of moonlight lay half-buried in the shore, its hilt etched with runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. Overhead, the moon hung low—not in the sky, but inverted beneath the waves. The wind whispered her name, backward and hollow.

When she reached for the sword, the reflection of the moon broke, rippling outward like an eye opening beneath the sea.

She woke before dawn, sweat cooling on her neck. The surf still roared below, rhythmic and endless. But underneath it—just for a heartbeat—she swore she heard something else.

A low, deliberate sound.

Like drums.

Then silence.