The storm rolled in without warning.
Thick clouds blanketed the sky, casting the Liang estate in a somber gray light. Rain pattered against the wide glass windows, blurring the edges of the world outside into a misty watercolor of stone paths and swaying trees.
Inside, the tension was thicker than the storm.
Liang Yue stood in the center of the training hall, the faint scent of sandalwood and old wood grounding her as voices echoed through the corridor beyond.
She tightened her grip on the thin training sword in her hand. Not ceremonial today. Real.
The Summit's outcome still burned in her mind. She had heard the murmurs—seen the way eyes shifted toward her, no longer veiling their suspicion or fear. The Fourth Bloodline was no longer a secret quietly kept. It was a loaded gun everyone could see.
And if Yue was to survive what was coming, she could no longer afford to remain a child hidden behind silks and ceremonies.
Liang Fei entered first, shoulders taut, face carved from stone. Liang Mei followed at his side, her stride confident, her jacket thrown over her shoulders despite the formal air that still clung to the estate.
And then came Liang Zhen.
The eldest brother rarely left the inner sanctums of the family's affairs. When he did, it meant something irreversible was about to happen.
He crossed the hall without hesitation, his eyes cool but not unkind as they settled on Yue.
"You asked for this," he said simply.
Yue nodded once. She would not beg. She would not plead for approval.
Liang Fei's jaw ticked as he watched her. "You're still young, Yue," he said, voice low but firm. "No one expects you to carry everything now."
But Yue met his gaze steadily. "If I don't start now," she whispered, "there won't be anything left to carry."
A heavy silence stretched between them.
Then Liang Mei broke it with a scoff. "At least she's not naive about it."
Liang Zhen smiled faintly, a rare crack in his iron composure. "Very well," he said. His voice was the sound of steel sheathing — final and certain. "Your training will begin properly. No more protected lessons. No more tutors who treat you like a porcelain doll."
The rain drummed harder against the windows, as if sealing the moment into the bones of the estate.
Liang Yue lowered her gaze and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Elder Brother."
"You'll curse me for it before the end," Liang Zhen said lightly. "But you will be ready."
At the far end of the hall, the wide training doors swung open.
Several figures in dark uniforms filed in — elite guards of the Liang Family. Not instructors. Not caretakers. Soldiers.
Each moved with lethal grace, their faces hidden behind black masks embroidered with the family crest. They bowed briefly to Liang Zhen, then turned to assess Yue with cold professionalism.
She felt the weight of their judgment. She was not expected to impress them. She was expected to survive them.
Liang Zhen gestured toward the first of them, a tall woman whose presence rippled like heat in the summer air.
"Begin," he said.
Without ceremony, the woman lunged forward.
Yue's body moved before her mind could catch up. Steel clashed against steel as she deflected the blow with her training sword, the vibration jolting up her arms. Her feet slid awkwardly against the polished floor, but she gritted her teeth and pushed back.
Again. And again. Strike. Parry. Fall. Rise.
Every mistake was punished — not cruelly, but without hesitation. A missed block earned a sharp tap against her ribs. A slow reaction brought the flat of the blade against her thigh.
Pain bloomed in small, urgent bursts. Sweat soaked through her inner tunic. Breath sawed through her lungs like knives.
But still, she stood.
From the sidelines, Liang Mei crossed her arms, her usual teasing smile absent. Liang Fei watched in tense silence, hands curled into fists behind his back. Liang Zhen remained impassive, a silent pillar of judgment.
After what felt like an eternity, Liang Zhen raised a hand.
The masked woman retreated, bowing slightly toward Yue — a gesture of respect, not pity.
Yue dropped to one knee, gasping. Her arms trembled. Her vision swam.
But inside, something hardened.
Liang Zhen approached slowly. He crouched before her, lowering his voice so only she could hear.
"You have the blood," he said. "But blood is not enough. You must forge it into something stronger than fear. Stronger than expectation."
Yue lifted her gaze, forcing her exhausted body to stillness.
"I will," she rasped.
A small nod. Approval, but not comfort.
Liang Zhen rose and turned to the guards. "She will train with you daily. No special treatment. No allowances for her name."
The guards bowed once, sharp and unified.
The first storm had passed. But far greater ones loomed beyond the misty walls of the estate.
Later, after the hall had emptied and the rain had softened to a misty drizzle, Yue sat on the cool stone steps leading down to the garden.
Liang Mei dropped down beside her, offering a cold bottle of water without a word.
They sat in companionable silence for a while, the only sounds the distant drip of rain and the occasional crack of thunder.
"You did well," Mei said finally, her voice rough but sincere. "Better than I did my first time."
Yue smiled weakly, accepting the bottle with shaking hands. "You're just saying that to be nice."
"No," Mei said, bumping her shoulder lightly against Yue's. "I'm saying it because you're stronger than you think."
Yue looked out over the misty gardens, her reflection faint in the puddles gathering on the stone paths.
There would be no going back now. No returning to the protected life she had once known.
She was stepping into the storm — not as a child of the Liang Family, not even as the Fourth Bloodline's heir — but as herself.
And somewhere in the shadows beyond the rain, she could almost feel it:
Eyes watching. Waiting.
The real battle had not yet begun.
But soon.
Very soon.