CHAPTER 5 : THE FIRST MEETING
The carriage slowed.
Through the window, I could see the high grey walls of the Zhao estate getting closer, closer, until they filled the whole view. The iron gates were opening, groaning on their hinges, revealing the huge stone courtyard beyond.
Mother reached out and took my hand, then Míng's hand. Her grip was firm.
"Listen to me," she said, her voice low and serious. "Both of you. All of you." She glanced at the other carriage, where I knew Chén, Lì and MěiLíng could hear her through the open windows. "Be on your best behaviour. But more importantly — be yourself. Don't be afraid. Don't try to be someone you're not to impress them. The Zhao family… they can smell a lie from a mile away. Just be honest. Be respectful. That is enough."
Míng swallowed loudly. "Mother, I'm scared."
Mother cupped his face. "I know, my love. But you are a Su grandson. You have nothing to be afraid of. Do you understand?"
He nodded, not really understanding, but trusting her.
I looked out the window again. The gates were fully open now.
"We're here," Mother said quietly.
---
Inside the Zhao manor, Lord Zhào WèiYán finally settled on the black robe with the silver tiger.
"Perfect," he muttered to himself, adjusting the collar in the mirror. "Simple. Dignified. Not trying too hard."
A servant burst into the room, bowing low, breathless. "My lord! A rider just came! They are at the gates! They will be here in moments!"
Lord Zhao's eyes widened. "What? Now? I thought we had another quarter hour!"
He turned and practically ran to his wardrobe, yanking out the black robe he'd tried on first, the one he actually liked, the one that made him look like a general and not a groom.
His three sons were already in the main hall, waiting.
Zhào YìChén, the second son, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. "So. We hear they have two sisters. One adopted, one real. And three brothers. Five children total."
Zhào MíngYuǎn, the youngest, grinned. "Five against three. Good odds. Let's see if they can match us. I bet the scholar brother faints at the sight of a sword."
YìChén laughed. "I bet the adopted sister cries within the first hour. They always do."
They both looked at their eldest brother, Zhào Chányán, who stood by the window, still in his black armor, his face unreadable as he watched the gates open in the distance.
"Chányán gege," MíngYuǎn said, "what do you think? Think they'll be soft? Like capital children?"
Chányán didn't turn. "I think you will both be on your best behaviour. Or family rules will be applied to you. Both of you. Is that understood?"
The amusement drained from their faces. Family rules in the Zhao household meant drills at dawn for a month. Or mucking out the stables. Or worse — extra lessons with Chányán himself.
"Understood, gege," YìChén said quickly.
"Understood," MíngYuǎn echoed.
Lord Zhao came striding into the hall, finally dressed, his face flushed. "They're here?"
"They're here," Chányán said, and there was something in his voice. Not excitement. Not dread. Just… focus. Like before a battle.
---
The carriages rolled to a stop in the courtyard.
For a moment, nobody moved. Then the doors opened.
I stepped out first, helping Míng down. He clung to my hand, his eyes huge as he took in the size of the place. It was not decorated like the Han manor. There were no gardens of flowers, no ornamental ponds with goldfish. There were training dummies. Weapon racks. A large, open space of packed earth where men had clearly been sparring minutes before.
"Wow," Lì breathed from behind me, getting out of the second carriage. "It's… big."
Chén said nothing, but his eyes were moving everywhere, cataloging, assessing.
MěiLíng stepped out last, graceful, her expression one of polite admiration. "It's very… impressive," she said softly.
Then she saw him.
Regent Prince Zhào Chányán, standing on the steps in black armor, tall and golden in the sunlight, beautiful and cold as a statue.
MěiLíng's breath caught, just slightly. Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second before she controlled her expression. He's… she thought, and I could almost hear it, he's magnificent.
But she immediately lowered her eyes. She knew her place. She was an adopted daughter of a divorced Prime Minister. He was the Regent Prince. She should not covet things beyond her reach. She knew that.
And yet… her gaze flickered to me. To the way Chányán's cold eyes had already found me in the group and were studying me.
A thought, sharp and clear, formed in her mind, and I felt it like a chill: If she has his attention… then I will have it too. She is my competition. She always has been. And I do not lose.
She curtsied perfectly, her eyes downcast, the picture of modesty. But inside, the game had already begun.
Mother stepped out of our carriage and straightened her robes. She looked calm. But I could see the tightness around her eyes.
On the steps of the main hall, the Zhao men waited.
Lord Zhào WèiYán was a man in his late forties, tall and broad, with greying hair and the bearing of a soldier who had become a lord. He was handsome in a hard way.
Beside him stood his three sons.
Zhào YìChén was handsome like his father, but softer, with a lazy smile.
Zhào MíngYuǎn was leaner, younger, his eyes bright and curious.
And Zhào Chányán… he was like a blade. Tall, golden in the sunlight, beautiful and cold. His eyes swept over us, one by one, missing nothing.
There was an awkward pause. It had been years since their mother died. I could see it in their faces — the way they stood a little too straight, the way they didn't quite know where to look. They could not just accept us as family in one instant. A new woman, new children, in their mother's house. It was awkward for everyone.
Lord Zhao stepped forward first and bowed slightly to Mother, a gesture of respect between equals. "Sū RuìXī. Welcome to the Zhao estate."
Mother bowed back, just as slightly. "Lord Zhao. Thank you for having us."
He turned to us. "And these must be your children. Welcome."
One by one, we bowed. "Lord Zhao."
Then his sons came down the steps.
YìChén greeted us with an easy smile. "Nǐ hǎo. I'm YìChén. Welcome."
MíngYuǎn grinned. "I'm MíngYuǎn. Don't worry, we don't bite. Much."
A few nervous laughs. Míng hid behind Mother's skirts a little.
Then Chányán stepped forward.
He greeted Chén first, with a nod. "Hán Chén." His voice was neutral.
Chén bowed. "Regent Prince."
He greeted Lì. "Hán Lì."
Lì bowed lower than necessary. "Regent Prince."
He greeted Míng, and his expression softened, just a fraction. "Hán Míng."
Míng peeked out and bowed. "R-regent Prince."
He greeted MěiLíng. "Hán MěiLíng."
She curtsied perfectly, her eyes downcast, the picture of modesty. "Regent Prince. It is an honor."
He said nothing to that. Just nodded, his eyes already moving past her.
Then he turned to me.
And his whole demeanor changed.
The slight, polite neutrality vanished. His golden eyes went cold. Hard. Suspicious. He looked at me like I was a puzzle he didn't like, or a riddle he intended to solve.
"Hán JiāYì," he said. His voice was colder than it had been with anyone else. Colder than winter water.
I bowed, keeping my eyes down. "Regent Prince."
He was silent for a beat too long. I could feel his eyes on the top of my head, on my hands, on the way I stood.
"Welcome to Zhao Manor," he said finally. The words were polite. The tone was not. It was a warning. A question.
I straightened up and met his eyes for just a second.
And in that second, a flicker hit me —
Him, standing close to me in a hallway, his face close to mine, his golden eyes narrowed, searching my face. His voice, low: "You're hiding something. What is it?"
The vision vanished and I almost gasped. I gripped Míng's hand tighter to steady myself.
Chányán's eyes narrowed, just slightly, as if he'd seen my reaction. As if he knew I'd seen something.
He turned away.
"Come inside," Lord Zhao said, his voice hearty, trying to break the tension. "You must be tired from the journey. We have prepared rooms for you all."
As we followed them toward the hall, Míng whispered to me, "Jiejie, that big brother is scary."
I didn't answer. I was too busy trying to stop shaking.
Because the Regent Prince, Zhào Chányán, had just looked at me like he already knew I was different.
And I had just seen that he would not stop until he found out what my secret was.