The summons came at sunrise.
The servant delivered it with downcast eyes and both hands, as if the slip of paper might explode if handled carelessly. "The Patriarch requests Young Master's immediate presence in the inner sanctum," she recited, and then vanished before Tobi could even yawn in her direction.
He washed with the icy water left in his room, scrubbing his face thoroughly until his skin tingled. He combed his hair with his fingers, taming the worst of the sleep-tangles. From the armoire, he selected a simple blue robe; nothing ostentatious, just clean and presentable. The fabric was sturdy, practical. He rolled his shoulders, cracked his neck, and set off.
The corridors that led to the patriarch's sanctum were windowless, soundless, floor polished to a black-mirror gleam. Each step Tobi took was marked by the echo of his pointed shoes. Halfway there, he noticed the walls: hung with scrolls bearing the clan's greatest victories, names inked in red. Not a single failure in sight.
He paused at the doors. Two guards in full livery, eyes straight ahead, faces as blank as river stones. They didn't move when he approached, didn't even seem to breathe. He suppressed the urge to wave a hand in front of their faces.
The doors slid open on silent hinges, admitting him into a room twice the size of his childhood apartment. The sanctum was all lacquered wood and bone-colored parchment, the ceiling lost in a haze of incense that coiled like a living thing. At the far end stood an ornate desk the size of a coffin, behind which Patriarch Wei Zhenmu sat with perfect posture.
The only other occupant was Jin Mo, posted to one side like a human barricade. He looked even larger indoors, a mountain crammed into a guard's uniform. A fresh scar traced the line of his jaw, still angry red against the brown of his skin.
Zhenmu did not look up from the scroll in front of him. He finished a line, set the brush down, then pressed his thumb to a red inkpad and stamped the paper with the clan seal. Only then did he turn his gaze on Tobi, who offered a bow calculated to be neither obsequious nor insulting. He'd practiced it in the mirror. It was his best work.
"Sit." Zhenmu's voice could sand wood.
Tobi obeyed, folding his legs beneath him on the bare tatami mat.
Zhenmu regarded him as if examining a beetle pinned to velvet. "The incident," he said at last. "Three nights ago. In the family garden."
He let the silence swell.
Tobi's pulse briefly quickened. Three nights ago? The original Wei Xuanji's memories flooded his consciousness: a merchant's daughter, the smell of plum wine, hands reaching where they shouldn't. Tobi fought to keep his expression neutral while disgust churned his stomach.
The patriarch's eyes flicked to Jin Mo, then back. "You disgraced yourself, and by extension, this clan. You have been given every opportunity, every advantage, and yet you persist in... indulging."
A crack. Zhenmu's hand slammed the desk, the sound as sharp as a gunshot.
Tobi met his gaze, the unfamiliar weight of another man's crimes sitting heavy on his shoulders.
"Do you understand why you are still here, Xuanji?" The patriarch leaned forward, his jade ring catching the light. "Why we haven't cast you out despite your... limitations?"
"My bloodline," Tobi said, voice just above a whisper, the words delivered with the cadence of empty morning affirmations. "The Wei lineage must remain unbroken, even through its weakest branches."
The patriarch's mouth twitched, not quite a smile. "Blood carries power, even in damaged vessels. Your meridians may be sealed, but your children could still restore what you've lost."
He turned to Jin Mo, who shifted his weight minutely, as if bracing for an earthquake.
"From today forward, you will be assigned a minder." He nodded at Jin Mo, who inclined his head a fraction of an inch. "Guard Mo will ensure that you do not embarrass yourself. Or the clan. Any infraction, no matter how small, will be reported to me."
Jin Mo's hand drifted to the loop at his belt, where a length of black cord was coiled. His expression was pure geological indifference.
Tobi kept his own face blank. Inside, a familiar resignation settled: of course they'd assign a minder after what "he" had done. The original Xuanji had earned this leash, and now Tobi would wear it. At least the arrangement confirmed one useful thing. Trash or not, they still needed him alive.
He risked a glance up. "Understood, Patriarch."
Zhenmu made a noise halfway between a grunt and a sigh. He thumbed through the stack of scrolls on his desk, selected one, and tossed it across the lacquered surface. It spun, landing precisely in front of Tobi.
He recognized the document: a record of clan expenditures, the page tabulated in columns of precise calligraphy.
"Your legacy is a debt," Zhenmu said, as if reading his mind. "Every meal, every lesson, every wasted moment. If you have any hope of repaying it, you will begin by assisting in the accounting office. Effective immediately."
He snapped his fingers. Jin Mo moved forward, the air pressure in the room seeming to tilt with his approach.
Tobi stood, executed another bow.
"Dismissed," Zhenmu said, already reaching for his next scroll.
Tobi walked backward three steps before turning. As he did, he caught a glimpse of the patriarch's silhouette, backlit by the morning sun. It looked less like a man and more like a monument.
Jin Mo followed him out. The doors closed with a whisper.
=====
They walked in silence, the only sound the double beat of their footsteps on polished stone. Jin Mo set a pace just fast enough that Tobi had to work to keep up. The guard's shoulders blocked half the hallway; Tobi slipped to the side when a pair of junior disciples rounded the corner, both ducking their heads and hugging the wall as if afraid to brush against either of them.
"Accounting office is on the east wing," Jin Mo said, voice barely above a growl. "I'd suggest you don't make anyone wait."
Tobi shrugged. "Not my first trip to the abacus mines."
Jin Mo's lips tightened. "You think this is a joke?"
"I think," Tobi said, "that if the patriarch really wanted me gone, I'd already be in a ditch. This is about optics. He needs to show everyone he's doing something."
Jin Mo stopped. He turned, eyes level with Tobi's, and for a long second they just stood there.
"If you try to run," Jin Mo said, "I will catch you. If you try to make me look bad, I will break something you value."
"Noted," Tobi said, and meant it.
They moved on. As they approached a side corridor, another figure blocked their way. Wei Jianyu, the golden prince, leaned against a pillar as if he'd been waiting for hours. He straightened as they approached, his smile all teeth.
"Well, well," Jianyu said. "Isn't this a paradox. The clan's most reliable weapon, escorting its most embarrassing liability."
He looked Jin Mo up and down, then focused on Tobi.
"Tell me, cousin, does it sting to have your own bodyguard? Or is this some new fetish you're cultivating?"
Jin Mo didn't react. "Depends," Tobi said. "Is it customary for the favorite son to stalk the failures? Or are you just bored?"
Jianyu's grin sharpened. "I'm never bored. In fact, I came with an invitation. There's a little operation tomorrow. bandit suppression in the western hills. The clan wants to make a show of it. Normally, I'd never suggest sending you, but… you might be useful as bait."
He said it lightly, but his eyes were hungry.
Tobi's mind raced through the implications. Bandits meant combat. Combat meant skin contact. Contact meant maybe his only chance for advancement. This trap might be the perfect cover for his Phantom Touch.
He paused just long enough to sell the idea that he was offended.
"Sure. I'll go," he said, keeping his voice flat. "Not like I have better plans."
Jianyu blinked, thrown. "You... will?"
Jin Mo's eyebrow twitched upward.
Tobi shrugged. "If I'm going to be on display, might as well be somewhere with fresh air." He glanced at Jin Mo, then back to Jianyu. "And if anything happens, you just get the credit for trying to rehabilitate me."
For a split second, the smirk slipped off Jianyu's face. Then he laughed; a short, sharp bark. "Excellent. I'll see you in the yard at dawn. Don't be late."
He swept past, making sure to shoulder Tobi as he did. Jin Mo caught Tobi before he could stumble.
When Jianyu was gone, Jin Mo stared at Tobi. "You're not supposed to take risks," he said.
Tobi shrugged one shoulder, eyes on the polished floor. "If I had said no and hid in the accounting office today, I'd just be the first target when Jianyu gets bored again. At least this way I can see the knife coming."
Jin Mo studied him for a long moment. "You're different from before."
Tobi's mouth quirked up at one corner. "Near-death experiences will do that. Turns out choking on your own vomit makes a man reconsider his life choices." He shrugged, glancing up. "I guess I can't go get started on accounting today. Need to train if I'm going on this mission tomorrow."
Jin Mo's jaw tightened. "The Patriarch's orders were clear."
"So were Jianyu's intentions." Tobi met his eyes. "I show up unprepared, I die. Simple math."
Jin Mo's fingers twitched at his belt. After three heartbeats, he exhaled. "Fine. But I won't help you."
"Be ready," he said, and stalked off.
Tobi watched the guard's back recede, then leaned against the same pillar Jianyu had occupied.
He drummed his fingers on the lacquered wood, counting off the possibilities. He wasn't afraid of dying, he'd already done it once. But he was terrified of wasting this second chance.
If Jianyu wanted him as bait, he'd be the sharpest hook in the pond.
=====
His lungs burned with each breath, but he kept moving. The sky bled out at sunset, painting the training yard in bands of red and bruised purple. Most of the clan had retreated to the warmth of the dining halls, but Tobi stayed outside, circling the uneven flagstones with steady persistence.
Tobi's muscles ached from hours of repetition, but he didn't stop.
Wei Xuanji's memories of The Flowing River Palm rushed through his mind. Years of instruction, countless hours spent perfecting each stance and movement. But those memories were tainted with failure, with the moment when Xuanji realized his crippled Heart meridian would never allow him to progress beyond the most basic forms.
"Start again," Tobi muttered to himself, resetting his stance.
He planted his feet shoulder-width apart, weight evenly distributed. The first position of Flowing River Palm: Gathering Waters. His hands formed loose fists at his sides, then slowly rose, fingers uncurling like petals opening to morning light. The motion was meant to draw qi upward from the earth through the feet, channeling it through the body's core.
Without qi, it was just movement. But movement had saved his life more than once on the streets of San Francisco.
He shifted to the second position: Diverting Current. His right foot slid forward, weight transferring smoothly as his hands moved in a circular pattern, right palm facing outward, left palm inward. The form was designed to intercept an opponent's attack and redirect their energy.
Sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down his temple. His damaged Heart Meridian throbbed with each movement, a dull ache that had become his constant companion.
Third position: Flowing Between Stones. A subtle pivot, hands tracing opposing arcs, finding the gaps in an opponent's defense. Fourth: Hidden Eddy. A quick step back, hands drawing close to the body, creating space to counter-strike.
With each transition, his movements became more fluid. The memories in his muscles were stronger than those in his mind. His body remembered what his predecessor had forgotten, or abandoned.
Fifth position: Breaking Wave. A sudden extension of energy, hands thrusting forward in parallel, meant to shatter an opponent's stance.
He lost track of time, cycling through the sequence again and again. The sky darkened to deep indigo, stars piercing the veil one by one. The pain in his chest faded to background noise as his focus sharpened.
"Your left elbow is too high."
Jin Mo's voice cut through his concentration. The guard stood at the edge of the yard, arms crossed, face unreadable in the gathering darkness.
Tobi completed the sequence before straightening. "How long have you been watching?"
"Long enough." Jin Mo stepped into the yard. "The Patriarch's orders were to report to the accounting office. You're disobeying."
Tobi wiped sweat from his brow. "I'd rather die with dignity than hide behind ledgers. At least today"
"Dignity?" Jin Mo's laugh was short and harsh. "There's no dignity in death, Young Master. Just worms and regret."
"Better than living as a joke." Tobi resumed his stance. "I've already died once. It wasn't so bad."
Jin Mo's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'died once'?"
Tobi paused, weighing his words. "In the garden. When my heart stopped. I saw... something. The other side, maybe." He shrugged. "Or maybe just my brain shutting down. Either way, it changes your perspective."
He moved through the first three positions again, feeling Jin Mo's gaze track every movement.
"Before, I was afraid of everything. Failure, embarrassment, my own limitations. Now?" He executed a transition to Breaking Wave. "I'm only afraid of wasting whatever time I have left."
Jin Mo was silent for a long moment. Then he stepped forward, adjusted his stance, and demonstrated the opening sequence. His movements were powerful yet precise, each position flowing into the next with the inevitability of water finding its course.
"If you're going to die tomorrow," Jin Mo said, "at least die knowing the proper form."
He positioned himself beside Tobi. "Watch. The power doesn't come from the arms, but from the core. Each movement should feel like you're drawing energy up from the ground."
They moved together through the sequence. Jin Mo corrected Tobi's stance with small adjustments; a finger repositioned here, a shift in weight there. His touch was surprisingly gentle for hands so large.
"The Flowing River Palm isn't about strength," Jin Mo explained. "It's about timing, precision, and reading your opponent. You wait for the opening, then exploit it. Like water finding a crack in stone."
They practiced until the moon rose high above the compound. Again and again, they cycled through the forms, each repetition smoother than the last. Tobi's muscles screamed, but he pushed through the discomfort, focusing on Jin Mo's instructions.
"Now," Jin Mo said after their twentieth repetition, "try to intercept me."
He threw a slow, telegraphed punch. Tobi stepped into the attack, hands moving in the Diverting Current pattern, redirecting Jin Mo's arm away from his body.
"Good. Faster now."
Jin Mo increased his speed. Tobi matched him, hands moving with growing confidence. When Jin Mo launched a surprise kick, Tobi dropped into Hidden Eddy and created space, just as the form dictated.
"Better." Jin Mo nodded. "One more sequence, all positions, full speed."
They moved together one last time, the moonlight catching their synchronized movements. As they finished, Tobi felt something he hadn't expected.
Pride.
It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that had no place in the life of a pickpocket or a failure. Yet there it was, warm in his chest despite the chill night air.
Jin Mo stepped back, his face returning to its customary granite. "It will have to do," he said, voice gruff. "You're still sloppy, but at least you won't embarrass yourself completely."
"High praise," Tobi said, trying to keep the smirk from his face.
Jin Mo grunted. "Don't mistake this for kindness. If you die tomorrow, it reflects poorly on me."
"Of course." Tobi bowed, just formally enough to be respectful without seeming mocking. "Purely professional concern."
The guard's eyes narrowed, but something in his posture had shifted. The contempt was still there, but now it was layered with something else. A reluctant respect, perhaps.
"Dawn," Jin Mo said. "Meet at the east gate. Bring your own water. The journey to the western hills takes half a day." He turned to leave, then paused. "And don't wear those shoes. They'll fall apart before we reach the foothills."
Tobi nodded. "Thank you."
Jin Mo's eyebrows rose slightly. "For what?"
"For not writing me off completely."
The guard studied him for a long moment, then shrugged. "Everyone deserves one chance to prove they've changed." His voice hardened. "But only one."
With that, he walked away, his silhouette merging with the shadows between buildings.
Tobi remained in the yard, his breathing finally slowing to normal.