Morning broke with a cold sun. Xiao Lin stirred in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of Sheng Long's arms. For a fleeting moment, he let himself believe the world was kind. That their night together existed in a reality untouched by war.
Then the knock came.
A sharp, calculated sound that shattered the fragile peace.
Sheng Long sat up immediately, his expression shifting from tender to stone.
"Come in."
Yan Shuo entered, face tense. "A summons. From the Imperial Court. For Xiao Lin."
Xiao Lin's heart dropped.
"For me?" he asked, already rising and reaching for his robes.
"They want you present for a questioning regarding your powers… and your connection to the recent Zerg movements," Yan Shuo said. His voice was carefully neutral. Too carefully.
Sheng Long's eyes narrowed. "Who signed the summons?"
"Chancellor Ruo. And three high lords who've always hated the rise of gers in court. It's a trap."
Sheng Long stood. "They won't touch him."
The Imperial Court was a palace of gold and glass. Beauty masking venom.
Xiao Lin stood in the center of the marble floor, wearing the dragon pendant tucked beneath his robe, the fox pendant close to his chest. Around him sat the highest ministers of the empire—cloaked in formality, heavy with judgment.
At their head, Chancellor Ruo leaned forward.
"Xiao Lin," he began, voice like silk draped over steel. "You've become quite the subject of public fascination. A ger with ancient abilities, appearing just as the Zerg retreat. Curious, wouldn't you say?"
Xiao Lin met his gaze calmly. "I never sought attention. I only used my abilities to protect and heal."
Another noble, Lord Zhen, spoke up with theatrical disdain. "And yet, ancient powers like yours were outlawed a generation ago. Foxfire. Spirit-binding. Witchcraft. You claim to heal—but perhaps you are calling the Zerg to us."
Murmurs rippled through the chamber.
A third voice: "Or worse. Perhaps the Marshal—your… companion—is using you to destabilize the empire. To replace the crown with his own rule."
Xiao Lin's heart pounded. He stepped forward. "That's not true. Sheng Long fights for this empire. He—"
"You dare use his name so casually?" Ruo snapped, feigning offense. "Tell us then, if you're so innocent—where did you learn such forbidden magic?"
"I didn't learn it. I was born with it."
A scoff. "Convenient."
The air turned sharp with accusation.
Suddenly the great doors opened—and in walked Sheng Long.
Black coat flowing behind him, his golden insignia gleaming under the morning sun.
His voice rang like a blade.
"Enough."
The room fell silent.
Sheng Long's eyes locked on Ruo's.
"If you think ancient powers are dangerous, why didn't you speak up when I unleashed mine to save your lives?"
The nobles flinched.
He continued, stepping beside Xiao Lin. "I owe this man my life. If he were an enemy, I would be dead. But I live—and so do all of you—because he chose to help us."
Ruo composed himself. "Marshal, this is not about—"
"This is exactly about power," Sheng Long interrupted, "and your fear of losing control. Xiao Lin is not your enemy. He is your salvation."
Whispers stirred again. But the court had been warned.
Sheng Long's presence silenced dissent.
Still, as Xiao Lin and the Marshal exited the court, the feeling of danger lingered in the air.
That night, in the shadowed wing of the palace, Chancellor Ruo knelt before a cloaked figure.
"The trial failed," Ruo said through gritted teeth. "But the court is divided. If we strike at the fox directly, they'll fall with him."
The figure leaned closer. Red eyes gleaming in the dark.
"Then strike. The Zerg queen grows restless. The healer must not survive. And the dragon… must break again."