The sky was still ink-black when Liang Yue woke.
A low vibration thrummed through the estate's bones — not sound, but something deeper, a trembling at the edge of sense. She sat up, heart already racing, and crossed the room in three swift strides.
Her dagger lay waiting on the table, gleaming dully in the faint light. A gift from Liang Zhen years ago, carved with the family crest. A symbol of protection — and a promise of blood if needed.
Yue strapped it to her waist with steady fingers.
Outside her room, the corridors of the estate stretched silent and dim, ward lights pulsing gently along the floors and walls. The air was thick, charged like the breath before a storm.
She nearly collided with Liang Ran at the corner.
Ran, small and serious, merely reached out and squeezed Yue's hand — no words, just the quick, fierce pressure of shared blood and unspoken courage — before slipping away down another hall.
Yue watched her go, the chill settling deeper into her bones.
Something was coming.
And it would not wait for daylight.
The first breach came just before dawn.
A sudden shudder raced through the walls — the wards flaring crimson at a western outpost — and alarms whispered urgently through the estate's core.
Liang Zhen's voice snapped through the comms: "Breach Team Three — intercept. Protect the Fourth."
Yue was already moving, running lightly through hidden hallways. Her training screamed at her to stay hidden, but instinct pulled her toward the threat.
She glimpsed them first — shadows against shadows, slipping through the broken lines of defense with brutal efficiency. Black-clad, masked, wielding blades humming faintly with suppressed energy.
Not common mercenaries. Trained elite.
One guard fell, blood spilling across the polished stone floor.
Another stumbled — a young recruit barely older than Liang Ran — his weapon skittering uselessly across the ground as one of the infiltrators advanced.
Yue froze behind a pillar.
Stay hidden.
You are the key.
You must survive.
The words drummed in her skull.
The assassin raised his blade to strike.
And Yue moved.
She slipped from cover without thinking, the dagger flashing free of its sheath. She caught the strike mid-swing, deflecting it awkwardly, barely keeping her footing. Pain lanced up her arm, but she didn't falter.
The guard scrambled back to his feet, wide-eyed, clutching his side.
Yue stood between him and the attacker, breathing hard.
The assassin hesitated, sizing her up.
Then Liang Jin's squad stormed in, armored and furious, overwhelming the infiltrators with swift, brutal precision.
It was over in seconds.
The intruders scattered or fell.
But Yue knew — this had only been the opening move.
Later, in the secured chambers beneath the war room, Liang Zhen debriefed them with cold efficiency.
The wounded were stabilized. Damage was contained. Politically, the attack could still be hidden — for now.
But the cost was clear in the tightness around Liang Fei's mouth, the shadows in Liang Mei's eyes.
"They're probing," Zhen said, voice low and dangerous. "Looking for weakness. Testing our response."
He turned to Yue.
"You were told to stay hidden."
Yue met his gaze without flinching.
"I chose to act."
A tense pause.
Then, slowly, Zhen nodded once — a small, grim approval.
"You made the right call," he said. "But next time, trust your team. You're not alone."
Liang Fei tapped his tablet, maps shifting across the screen.
"Diplomatic channels are moving already. The Bai and Lei families will deny involvement, of course. No matter. Their masks are slipping."
Liang Ran sat curled beside Liang Mei, absorbing every word with solemn eyes.
Outside the chamber walls, the city stirred toward dawn, oblivious to the blood spilled in the shadows.
Inside, the Liang Family tightened ranks.
Prepared for the next strike.
Because there would be a next.
And it would be worse.
Yue knew it in her bones, as surely as she knew her own heartbeat.
She wasn't just a symbol anymore.
She was a blade.
And blades were meant to be wielded.
Ending Line:
The first strike had come quietly, like a whisper of knives in the dark. The next would not be so kind.
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