Late one evening, after the other attendants had gone to sleep, Lu stayed behind in the Imperial Library. The air was quiet. Only the soft rustle of silk and the faint smell of ink remained.
She opened a faded scroll tucked between two old histories. The writing was hard to read, parts scratched out, others smudged with ash. But with patience, she began to understand the story.
Long ago, before the current emperor sat on the Dragon Throne, the empire had been ruled by his grandfather, Emperor Hanxuan. During his reign, peace between noble clans was weak. Jealousy and ambition filled the court like thick smoke. Each clan wanted more power: more land, more gold, more favor.
Among these clans was one that did not seek honor through war or law—but through fear and mystery. They were called the Black Crane Clan.
Unlike the other noble houses, the Black Crane did not raise armies or collect taxes. They studied the stars, shadows, poisons, and spells. Their power came from secrets. They trained in the mountains, where fog never lifted and sunlight was said to fear them. Their leaders wore gray robes and painted their eyelids black. Some said they could speak to spirits. Others said they had made a pact with the underworld.
At that time, the most trusted advisors of the emperor were the Imperial Astrologers. These men and women watched the stars, tracked comets, and chose lucky days for war, marriage, and the birth of royal children. Their words could change the fate of the nation. The Black Crane Clan knew this. And they wanted that power for themselves.
According to the scroll, a man named Master Lin Mo, a former astrologer, warned the court that the Black Crane had begun placing their followers among the astrologers' ranks. Young scholars were being trained in secret arts, then placed inside the palace as "sky readers." But the warnings came too late.
One winter night, the stars predicted the death of the emperor. A red star burned above the southern sky said to signal betrayal. Emperor Hanxuan grew fearful and paranoid. He dismissed his most loyal guards and listened only to those who gave him signs of danger.
The Black Crane used this to their advantage. Through false star readings and "heavenly omens," they led the emperor to kill three honest ministers and exile his own brother.
They even used a forbidden art: blood ink.
This ink was made from cinnabar, ashes of a raven, and the blood of a girl born during a lunar eclipse. When used under the light of the full moon, it was believed to bind curses into paper—spells that brought illness, madness, or death to anyone whose name was written.
Lu's scroll described a night when five names were written in such ink.
Within a week, all five were dead; two by poison, one by drowning, one by fire, and the last by "the loss of his soul," as the scroll said.
The emperor became a puppet, his mind weakened by fear and grief. Only when his eldest son, the Crown Prince, found a secret message left by Master Lin Mo did the truth begin to surface. A great purge followed.
The Crown Prince, later Emperor Shunming ordered the Cleansing of Shadows. Soldiers raided temples and hidden houses. Dozens of Black Crane members were captured or killed. The rest vanished into smoke and silence. But not all was destroyed. Some scrolls survived. Some names were never cleared.
And some among the astrologers were never revealed.
Lu stared at the scroll long after the candle burned low. Now she understood. The Black Crane were not just shadows of the past. Their marks were still here, hiding between pages and faces.
And worst of all…
Someone in the palace might still be writing with blood ink.
The palace garden glowed under the evening sky, red lanterns swaying gently in the breeze. Music from the zither floated in the air, soft and dreamy. The twelve chosen girls sat under the peach blossom trees, dressed in the finest silks, their hair decorated with jade pins and golden butterflies.
Lu sat quietly, her gaze lowered as the others whispered and laughed. She knew she didn't belong here, not really. But since the day the Emperor had nodded at her during the Spring Ceremony, everything had changed. The other girls had noticed too. Especially Lady Yunxiu.
Yunxiu was from the He Clan, known for their beautiful daughters and clever tongues. She had been raised in the inner court of noble lords, trained to speak sweetly and walk like floating mist. But beneath her painted smile, her eyes held sharpness.
"Lu," she said suddenly, her voice like honey but with thorns. "You always sit so quietly. The Emperor must like silent women."
A few girls giggled. Lu looked up slowly and smiled. "Silence has its uses. It helps one hear truth behind sweet words."
Yunxiu's smile twitched. That night, the Emperor visited the garden. As he passed by, his gaze fell on Lu again. Just for a moment but it was enough. Enough for Yunxiu's fingers to curl slightly in her lap.
Later, in the silk weaving hall, Yunxiu approached Lu.
"You come from a temple, yes?" she asked.
"Yes," Lu replied, not stopping her needle.
"And yet now you wear pearls and silk. Must feel strange for you."
Lu continued sewing. "It feels no stranger than wearing jewels and hiding your true face."
Yunxiu's lips parted slightly, but she did not reply. She walked away, the scent of magnolia trailing behind her.
That night, Lu returned to her chamber. On her bed, she found a folded piece of paper tucked under her pillow. It was written in red ink.
She opened it carefully. Five characters. Just five.
The moon will choose. Blood remembers.
Lu stared at the ink. It shimmered slightly, as if it had not dried. A drop of wax fell from her candle onto the corner of the paper and hissed. She tucked the note into her sash and stepped outside.
The palace grounds were quiet. But Lu had lived among monks. She knew how to move without sound. Her steps led her back to the Imperial Library.
Inside, the old keeper, Master Shun, dozed behind the counter. She slipped past him, her fingers brushing the shelves until she found the scroll she had hidden days before.
She read again about the Black Crane Clan, how they once tried to control the astrologers. How they had used blood ink, ink mixed with the blood of girls born under cursed stars.
She read a line she had missed before:
"When the moon chooses, a girl of silence will rise. She shall be marked and hunted. But only she can end the shadow's breath."
Lu's fingers trembled slightly. Was the note in her room a warning or a threat?
She returned to her chamber. The red ink on the paper had turned darker. Almost black.
The next morning, a servant came with news.
"The Emperor invites the Twelve to join him at the Lotus Pavilion."
It was rare. Normally, only one or two girls were summoned at a time. As Lu dressed, Yunxiu's maid passed her chamber.
"I hope your sleeves are stitched strong," the maid said with a smirk. "Weak seams embarrass during court dances."
Lu said nothing. But as she stood before the mirror, she noticed a cut along the edge of her sleeve. A clean slice someone had tried to sabotage her robe. She quickly sewed it shut with a needle she carried hidden in her hairpin.
The Lotus Pavilion was bright and filled with music. The Emperor sat at the center, relaxed, sipping warm plum wine. Around him, ministers watched from the shadows. The Twelve stood in two rows.
Yunxiu stepped forward to dance. Her movements were flawless, like petals in the wind. Her silk robes shimmered with golden thread.
Lu followed. Her dance was slower, but there was a stillness in her that caught the Emperor's eye. When she bowed, he raised his hand.
"You were raised in a temple?" he asked.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"You do not speak like a girl who grew up with incense and bells."
"I listened more than I spoke."
He nodded. "The court needs ears more than it needs mouths."
A few ministers chuckled.
Later, when the feast was ending, the Emperor whispered to one of his guards. The guard came to Lu.
"His Majesty wishes for you to stay."
As the other girls left, Lu remained behind. She stood by the moonlit pond, her reflection swaying on the water.
The Emperor approached.
"You are not like the others," he said.
"I know."
"You are watching. That is good."
Lu looked up. "There are things in the court no one sees or pretends not to."
He studied her for a long moment. "I once had a bird that sang only at night. I called it my secret voice."
He walked away. Lu stood in the silence, wondering what it meant.
That night, Yunxiu smashed a porcelain bowl in her room.
"She's just a servant girl in silk!" she shouted.
Her maid knelt, trembling.
"She must be hiding something," Yunxiu hissed. "No girl dances like that without training. Find out where she's from. Everything."
"Yes, my lady."
Yunxiu stood before the mirror and took off her golden earrings.
"She wants to play a game?" she whispered. "Let's see how she plays with fire."
The next day, Lu's bedding was found soaked with ink. Black ink. But it wasn't from the brush of any servant. The smell was different. The color too thick. The scent stung her nose. Blood ink.
Lu turned to the window. A red ribbon fluttered outside, tied to a tree. She had seen that ribbon once during her reading in the scroll. It was a Black Crane signal: "Marked for sacrifice."
Someone in the palace knew. Someone wanted her gone.