Lu had not come this far to run. She burned the inked bedding. She cleaned the floor herself. She sat by the window, fingers clasped in prayer, though she no longer followed the temple gods.
She was praying to her own spirit. They threw me away once, she thought. Now I wear silk. They whisper against me. Now I whisper back. Let them come.
From the shadows, another girl watched. Not Yunxiu. It was someone quieter. Someone waiting.
In the garden the next morning, Yunxiu smiled sweetly and took Lu's hand.
"We are sisters now, are we not?" she said.
Lu smiled back. "In a court of snakes, even sisters grow fangs."
Yunxiu laughed lightly, but her eyes flared.
And the wind carried the scent of magnolia once again.
The air was thick with the scent of sandalwood and fresh jasmine petals scattered across the marble floors of the East Pavilion. Lanterns, red as blood, swayed from wooden beams above, casting a warm yet haunting glow. The palace had begun preparing for the Mid-Autumn Banquet, a night when the moon was full and said to reveal the hidden truths of one's heart. But beneath the silken layers of festivity, whispers stirred like snakes beneath velvet.
Lu stood by the carved window of her chamber, her eyes fixed on the courtyard below where servants bustled like ants. Since the Emperor had requested her presence during the Lotus Pavilion feast, her days had changed. The servants bowed lower. The other girls watched her longer. And Yunxiu, whose smile once held sweetness, now gleamed with poison. Every glance from Yunxiu was now dipped in venom, wrapped in silk.
What none of them knew was that Lu had begun to dream. Every night since she found the note written in blood ink, her sleep was haunted. She saw a temple wrapped in flames. She saw shadows with no faces whispering her name. A woman, cloaked in black robes, holding a mirror that did not reflect. And most haunting of all, a voice, low and echoing, saying: "The moon remembers the blood of the forgotten."
The palace doctor had called it "anxiety." He offered herbal tea and warnings to stay away from moonlight. But Lu knew better. The dreams were not dreams. They were memories passed down through the bloodline she had never known she belonged to.
Master Shun, the old librarian, had begun to leave scrolls for her in hidden corners of the Imperial Library. Ancient writings, sealed with red wax. One scroll described a time, nearly a hundred years past, when the Black Crane Clan had nearly overthrown the Emperor. They used cursed girls, trained from birth, whose blood had been mixed with moon water and ink. These girls, known as "Moon Crows," could write scrolls that caused sickness, madness, even death. The Emperor of that time had outlawed their teachings, and the clan had vanished or so the records claimed.
But now Lu had found blood ink on her bed. She had found red ribbons tied to the peach trees. And that voice in her dream spoke as if it knew her.
That evening, as the sun set in a pool of gold, Lu was summoned to the Orchid Garden where the Emperor would take tea with selected guests. She arrived in a pale lavender robe, her hair twisted into a high bun with a single jade pin—modest yet elegant. The garden was lit with lanterns and the sound of zithers played from behind silk screens. But as she entered, she noticed two things: the Emperor was not yet present, and Yunxiu was already there, speaking softly with Madam Lian, one of the senior concubines.
Madam Lian was a dangerous ally for Yunxiu to win. Once the Emperor's favorite, she still held great influence, especially with the Empress Dowager. Her eyes, sharp and painted with gold powder, flicked toward Lu as she approached. Her smile never reached her eyes.
"The temple girl graces us," Madam Lian said with a voice like wind through steel. "Will you chant for us tonight, or have you learned the flute?"
Yunxiu laughed gently, placing her hand over her mouth. Lu bowed politely.
"I came to serve tea, not perform tricks," she replied, her voice calm.
"Ah, humility. A rare spice in the palace," Madam Lian said, then sipped her wine. "But beware, child. The Emperor's favour is a candle. Moths dance too close and burn."
Before Lu could answer, a scream echoed across the garden.
A maid came running, her hands soaked in red. "Lady Mei! Lady Mei is, she's not breathing!"
Gasps erupted from the ladies. The Emperor arrived moments later, his face grim. Servants led everyone away as guards rushed into the inner courtyard. Lady Mei, one of the Twelve, had been found collapsed beside the koi pond, her skin pale and her lips dark. The palace doctor arrived, but it was too late. She was gone.
Whispers spread like fire through dry grass.
"Poisoned," some said.
"A curse," others whispered.
Lu's heart pounded. That night in the library, she returned to the scroll about the Moon Crows. It spoke of a dark ink that could be hidden in tea leaves, only becoming deadly under moonlight. She thought of the red ink note of her dreams.
Master Shun found her there.
"You should not be here tonight," he said.
"I have questions," she said.
He sighed. "Then you must also be ready for answers. You are not the only girl brought to the palace with secrets."
"What do you mean?" she asked.
He handed her a folded cloth. Inside was a jade pendant, shaped like a phoenix with wings spread wide.
"This was left at the temple gate the night you were found," he said. "We never showed it to the monks. We feared what it meant. Look at the wing."
Lu looked closer. Carved into the jade, nearly invisible, was a mark: "Hei Xuan." The Black Crane.
"You carry the mark of a clan that should no longer exist," Master Shun said. "But the Black Crane lives hidden in shadows, in whispered names, in ink and blood. And they are watching you."
Lu clutched the pendant. "Why me?"
"Because you are the key to either their return or their final death."
The next morning, the palace was under quiet panic. Lady Mei's death had been ruled "unknown causes," but everyone whispered of curses. The Empress Dowager herself summoned the astrologers. The moon was full, and on such nights, the heavens could reveal traitors.
Lu dressed in white, the color of mourning. All twelve girls were to kneel in the Jade Court as incense burned and the imperial astrologer made his readings. One by one, the girls were called forward to offer incense. When it was Lu's turn, the air around her felt heavier.
As she knelt, the incense she lit sparked and then hissed. The smoke turned briefly dark before returning to normal. Gasps came from behind.
The Empress Dowager's voice cut through. "Stop."
Lu remained kneeling. Her heart thundered in her chest. The old woman rose from her seat. Her gown shimmered like moonlight over steel.
"What is your name, child?" she asked.
"Lu," she answered.
"Who were your parents?"
"I do not know. I was left at a temple."
The Empress Dowager looked into her eyes. Then, strangely, her expression softened.
"You carry a burden in your blood," she said, more to herself than anyone else. "One that may either destroy or protect."
She returned to her seat. "Let her continue."
Lu lit the incense again. This time, the smoke rose pure and clean. But from the corner of her eye, she saw Yunxiu staring but not with jealousy now. It was with fear.
That night, Lu returned to her chamber. On her bed lay a new note. The same red ink.
"The crow watches. The phoenix must rise."
She lit a candle, pressed the phoenix pendant to her chest, and whispered a vow. She had once prayed for peace. But now, she prayed for revenge. Not only for herself, but for whatever girl had been used, silenced, or sacrificed before her. Let the crows come. The phoenix was waking.