The reception room sat in hush, fresh tea set on the table. Steam climbed like pale silk through the air, its fragrance settling on the room like drifting petals.

The young man took a seat and raised his cup. A gentle bitterness touched his tongue, the leaf’s warm perfume slid down his throat, then vanished into his stomach like rain absorbed by soil.

He smiled, soft as spring sunshine, the kind of smile that could tip a thousand hearts. He set the cup down, patient as a stone lantern.

His features were clean-cut, long hair gathered at the back like a dark ribbon. A formal suit fit him neatly, the kind that said he was straight-laced, steady as winter pines.

For Kujian of the True Palace Family, afternoon tea was a small happiness, a ritual like watching dusk fall. Even as the next heir, the pressure piled up like storm clouds. No matter how busy, he never skipped tea. Habit held him like an old path.

It was also the only hour in his crowded day when he could receive guests, a window of calm in a wind-tossed pond.

The True Palace Family traced back far, tied by oath and ink to the Magic Institution. They kept easy terms with the Single Leaf Clan as well, and when that clan underwent the fire of war, True Palace helped—more a move on the board than a heartfelt favor, but it kept the lines between Clan Head families alive.

More pressing: the current head of True Palace lay bedridden, illness like frost creeping year after year. Letting go of this world felt like a matter of time. Kujian’s accession felt the same—an hourglass already turned.

Once he took the seat, he’d be the second-youngest among the seven Clan Head houses in the Underworld. The youngest remained Kananin Rin of the Kananin Family.

“Hope the hospitality’s decent,” Kujian said with a smile, light as a breeze through bamboo.

This hour was the prime time for receiving. Naturally, guests were many, a tide drawn to a lit harbor.

Asagi Renka raised her cup and took a sip. Her aloof face loosened, a faint glaze of contentment like moonlight on water.

“You’ve got taste,” she said, voice cool as porcelain.

“You flatter me, Lian Hua. I know you’re fond of black tea. Too bad we’re out. I brought out leaves I knew would catch your interest.”

“It’s plenty. I’m not the type to be capricious. And the fact you remember what I like… that honestly surprises me.”

“In the old days, you and Aya used to run with me. Childhood friends, really. You both feel like little sisters. As an older brother, I shouldn’t neglect you.”

“You still talk this smooth. Never changed, Kujian.” Lian Hua set the cup down and sighed, a reed bending to wind.

They’d played together as kids, then family ties pulled them apart. The feelings still held like knots in old rope.

For Lian Hua, her feeling for Kujian was a sister’s warmth. Romance wasn’t in it. The one she liked was Aya.

Kujian had long known where Lian Hua’s compass pointed. He never tried to steer it back; he let it be, like a river finding sea. Maybe that ease was why Lian Hua never pushed him away.

“I know. People don’t show up just for tea.” His gaze steadied, a blade sheathed but ready. “Say it, Lian Hua. What do you need?”

He wasn’t slow. He knew Lian Hua’s means—sharp as a crane’s beak, willing to turn any wind into lift. On that front, Kujian assumed every possibility, eyes open like a hunter at dusk.

“I heard you’re joining the purge against the Church,” Lian Hua said. Her face stayed calm, but her eyes held an uncompromising light, like stars in frost.

Kujian’s smile tilted, wry as a crooked branch. “I am. And so are you.”

“So you knew.”

“There’s little I don’t. You’ve set your sights on the Church. I saw it at a glance. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“...I do want to move against them, but...” Her words thinned, like breath in cold air.

“You’re short on people, right?”

“Right. I don’t have your pull. In the Asakura Family, my voice alone doesn’t carry. I’m not the head. You’re different. You hold the reins to the entire True Palace Family.”

“You want to borrow my people. I get it. I can’t just hand them over. Their lives aren’t mine to lend.”

“You’ve already talked about teaming up with Yanbu Junichi. That should add a lot of weight. Lend me a bit—what’s the harm?”

“That’s a different matter. Lian Hua, I said it—I won’t gamble with my subordinates’ lives. You’re not a Clan Head; you can’t feel that weight. I’ll help you increase your strength. But troops? No.”

Kujian cut the request cleanly, like a gate closing. Lian Hua’s fingers tightened, warmth leaving her palm. She stared at him, unwilling, a spark pressed under glass. She couldn’t blow up here. She swallowed it like bitter tea.

She’d hoped to pull more hands. No.

So, only one path left—win over heavy hitters.

Asagi Renka began her next round of plans, mind turning like a windmill.

Leaves let go, riding wind as they fell, scattered on earth. Another gust passed, and fresh leaves followed.

While those two schemed, words sharpened elsewhere.

Inside the Single Leaf Clan estate, people moved in their own currents. A teenage boy quietly slipped on his shoes, intent on the door. Anxiety flashed across his clean features like a light behind paper.

He’d almost stepped into the hallway when a familiar voice cut from behind, calm as night water.

“Where are you going, Haruto?”

“!”

Haruto spun, face stiffening. He met Aya’s gaze—serene, yet a little beyond reading, like a lake hiding its depth.

“Sis, I...” Words tangled. The right ones wouldn’t come.

He knew her nature. Once she locked in, you couldn’t pull her back. So he never tried to argue with her.

But now, he had to.

“Sis, I’ve thought it through. I’m going to walk my own road. Even if it’s a dead end, I won’t stop.”

He pressed down the ache in his chest, tried to make his voice level. A tremor still showed, like a string under strain.

He wouldn’t lie to his own sister. He couldn’t. Truth was cleaner than anything, even if it cut.

Even if she didn’t understand.

“The Church is that important to you, Haruto?” Aya’s shoulders trembled, emotion like thunder held in cloud.

“I...” His throat worked.

“Why is everyone like this? Willing to toss their lives to stop the world’s shift—what for? Don’t you get it? The Church isn’t someone you can provoke. In today’s Underworld, they hold the strongest force. If you go, can you promise you’ll return?”

Yes—again, the purge against the Church. Even her brother was caught up. Another war big enough to tilt the Underworld.

The last war among Clan Head houses had cost too much, grief falling like ash. Aya had lost her closest friend and her loyal subordinates. Her brother surviving felt like a small mercy.

And now, another choice about life and death pressed at the door.

“Why can’t you understand? You’re the future of the Single Leaf Clan. If you die, what do Father and Mother do? Haruto, why won’t you think about your sister’s heart? Facing it alone and acting cool—do you think that’s impressive? Men like that are the worst.”

“Sis...” His voice softened.

“Stop, okay? Don’t be like Lian Hua and ignore my warnings! What if you also—”

“Listen to me, Sis!” Haruto cut in, rough as a door slammed open.

“Yeah, it’s dangerous. But I haven’t forgotten Father, Mother, or you. I always carry you with me. I don’t want this either. I’d love to stay home, do nothing, be a good, obedient kid. But I can’t!”

“The Church is out of control. If they take the Underworld’s helm, our Clan Head house getting stripped is only a matter of time. I won’t accept that. If someone tries to steal the place I belong, I won’t let them. Because this is our home.”

“I’ll go. I’ll fight. For family, I’ll do anything. Even if you’re against it, I’ll still do it. This is my resolve.”

He wasn’t chasing the heat of the crowd. From the start, he aimed at victory.

He wanted to protect his family. His Clan Head house. He knew Aya’s refusal came from worry.

But once a man decides, he doesn’t bend. On this, Haruto wouldn’t yield.

“Haruto, you really...” Aya lowered her head, hiding her face, feeling like a tide pulled by two moons.

After the last war, Aya had stopped asking herself one serious question.

Should she ever use her power again?

Watching comrades die, seeing the faces of old friends and subordinates in the moment—they’d made her turn away from her strength, like shuttering a shrine.

But now, maybe that wasn’t possible.

She wanted to guard home, too.

“Sis...” His voice reached for her.

“Haruto.” Her tone steadied, like a blade honed.

“Yes.” He straightened.

“Do the thing you’ve chosen. Don’t you dare regret it. No matter how dangerous, engrave it in your bones. Don’t die.”

“!—You mean...”

“Prep the car. I’m going to England too.”

Aya’s face held firm color now, like dawn cutting cloud.

She’d finally decided to answer the Underworld’s call with action.

Above, clouds drifted past. The long-hidden sun stepped out and poured light across the land, touching every corner. The scene slid, distance folding like paper.

Birds flicked over treetops, settled, then peered down. Below, a girl crossed the campus, her steps easy as a stream.

Yunshi Bianqi headed for the market after school to stock up. Her phone buzzed in her pocket like a cicada.

She sighed, pulled it out, slid the answer key. “Hello, this is Yunshi—”

Her bored expression sharpened as she listened, growing serious, then dark as a storm bank.

“Got it. I’ll find time to go with Sawagawa Moa.”

On her screen, the contact name read Asagi Renka.

And what the caller said was this: on the list of those joining the purge against the Church, the names she saw...

All of them were people Yun Shi knew.