VIVIAN LI

The frost beneath her feet hadn’t cracked once. Not in the last seventy-two moves, which was a good sign.

Vivian turned at the edge of the elevated training platform, blade trailing mist behind her like a silk ribbon. Each form unfurled with mechanical precision—with clean lines, elegant repose, and lethal thrusts. Ice mana pooled beneath her heels, catching sunlight on its crystalline edge.

A set of Lotus Peak instructors stood just outside the ward line, murmuring quietly. They watched her with interest, studying the way she moved both her body and her mana.

She didn’t acknowledge them.

Vivian had come here for stillness. For the discipline of the sword. For something the city—and the capital, or even her home—couldn’t give her: silence without expectation.

And yet, even up here, word found her. A courier approached from the edge of the cliff stair—female, gloved, carrying a scroll sealed in blue lacquer and tied with a Li-family thread. She bowed but said no words and held no eye contact.

Vivian took the scroll without looking at her and turned away. She was annoyed. These “secret correspondences.” Why not just send a message via the MageNet? She opened it with her free hand as she moved into a slow cooldown stance, each breath releasing a whisper of chill that kissed the edges of the training circle.

At first, she read it casually; then she stopped moving entirely.

The scroll was stamped with House Li military clearance, annotated by Gavin himself, and encoded with classification levels usually reserved for battlefield projections. It contained fragments of communications and a strange explanation.

Subject:E. Zhou’s Framework Implementation, Phase I

She read the report and her eyes went wide, her jaw slack. She read it again.

No way. This… this was impossible. Her husband had built some sort of machine. More than a machine—something he called the Framework. It was a combat feedback system that interfaced with mana threads and motion sequencing—something that could identify martial flaws in real time, correct technique around internal mana channeling and alignments, even offer guidance to reduce core fracturing under stress, all tailored to the individual practitioner. It didn’t just assist cultivators. It trained them, systematically.

The reports from initial deployment were clear and astonishing:

* Minor sects were improving rapidly.

* Two near-injuries had been avoided through weakness recognition during mantra practice, resulting in a complete overhaul of the tempering method.

* Four advanced disciples broke bottlenecks months ahead of expectation when the machine offered practical insight.

Vivian blinked, then frowned. The transcript that followed was mind-blowing.

Field Correspondence — Gavin Li to E. Zhou

“This is a tactical resource, not a public artifact. We need to control deployment. Keep it internal. For now.”

Response — E. Zhou to Gavin Li

“It’s not the final design; not even close. It’s the floor. What comes next will change everything. Let them see what the base layer looks like so when the big change comes, they embrace it. We’re not trying to protect this. We’re trying to outpace what comes after.”

The argument went on for several paragraphs in the same vein—Gavin, even Lucas, urging secrecy and restricted use, while Ethan’s vision was far greater.

He ended it with one line.

Trust me.

Vivian closed the scroll and exhaled hard through her nose.

“That man is going to burn down the sky one day,” she muttered. And he’d probably make it look easy.

She moved back to the center of the platform, frost swirling around her as she drove her sword into the snow-packed center. The ward line responded with a shimmer of pale blue. Static silence returned.

Her hands were still shaking.

He did all this. Designed it. Built it. Pushed it past House security and palace oversight in less than three months. While I’ve been up here—cutting snow and staring at clouds.

She glanced at her reflection in the flat edge of her blade.

Does he even think about me? Does he even care what I’m doing?

She hadn’t heard from him since her message about the techniques. The rat bastard—just a thank you, and then nothing. The next time she saw anything about him, he was at an Imperial Gala, surrounded by the Princess and Minhua.

She shoved the thought aside, irritated.

The scroll crinkled in her grip. She tucked it back into its seal pouch, tighter than necessary.

A second courier approached as she exited the platform—this one from the outer ring. She carried no scroll, only a small folded note.

Taken from NovelBin, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Vivian opened it.

She recognized the script immediately.

I’m nearby. No pressure. Just wanted to see you. I miss you. – Jun

Vivian folded the message in half and slipped it into her belt without expression.

Jun… he was nearby.

She knew, deep down, that he would come. He always did—always waiting for the smallest window.

By early afternoon, she had changed. Gone were the robes of House Li. Gone, even, were the cold tones of Lotus Peak. In their place: a plain traveler’s cloak, storm-gray and flat. A simple tunic, basic but comfortable boots, and a hooded mantle that cast her face in shadow.

Vivian moved through Yunmei like a blade sheathed in calm. Her sword—her real one, not her practice blade—was wrapped in linen and slung across her back. She kept her hood low, but it didn’t matter. Her presence still parted the air. It was rare for someone like her to go unnoticed.

The town bustled in the late afternoon—vendors calling, spices rising from braziers, a flute trilling near the outer shrine. Vivian barely registered it. Her steps had purpose.

She wasn’t sure if she was going to see Jun because she wanted him near—or tell him to stay gone.

It didn’t matter. It was night now; her legs carried her anyway.

She was halfway through the main market corridor when she heard it—

“Vivian?!”

She stopped and turned. Two shapes barreled out of the crowd, and before she could react, Emily and Elise Zhou had wrapped her in an unexpected, breath-stealing hug.

“We found you!”

“You’re really here!”

Vivian’s mouth opened in surprise—but no sound came out.

Then, behind them, Marissa Lin, standing just far enough away to be dramatic, fan half-open and flashing.

“Don’t worry. We were just coming up the mountain to find you.”

“We need your help.”

Vivian pulled back slightly, brow furrowed.

“Emily, Elise—this is unexpected. What are you doing here? Is something wrong with Ethan? He isn’t—”

“Oh, Brother Ethan is fine,” Elise interrupted. “As for why we are here… it’s a long story.”

“Complicated,” Emily added.

“Urgent,” Marissa finished.

Vivian blinked.

“You came to Yunmei just to find me.”

“We’ll explain,” Elise said quickly. “Come with us. There’s a place.”

The three girls moved fast, and Vivian, still too surprised to scold them for wandering unaccompanied, followed. Ethan would never forgive her if anything happened to his precious sisters. She could scold the twins later.

After ten minutes, they entered a modest inn, heading upstairs to a nondescript door. The room was simple: paper-screened windows, a polished tea table, cushions arranged in a circle.

Vivian sat cross-legged, her sword leaned against the wall, hood lowered. She listened.

Their story spilled out: a Gate, a shrine, a divine trial that needed a cold-aspect cultivator under a strict threshold. The details tripped over each other. Too many pieces. Too few answers.

Then the word Moonsteel landed, and her posture shifted.

That told her everything.

Before she could respond, the sliding door opened. The air itself shifted, like a ripple across still water.

“Well,” Vivian said dryly, “look who finally decided to stop sending messengers.”

The room startled. Elise half-rose, Marissa blinked, but only Vivian remained still, gaze fixed on the doorway.

Sophie Virelyn stepped through in her disguise—Marin.

Vivian was one of the few who knew about the magic Sophie used to go out among the people.

Sophie—Marin—wore simple travel layers, nothing formal, but carried herself like a crest carved in living stone.

Sophie met Vivian’s eyes and inclined her head.

“Iceblade.”

“Crownless,” Vivian replied, voice sharp as a blade’s edge. “I take it this entire operation is yours.”

Sophie didn’t correct her. She stepped inside, closed the door, and took her place at the tea circle.

Vivian studied her, then leaned back slightly, arms crossed.

“Why are you here, Princess? You don’t leave the capital unless the skies are falling. Or unless someone’s threatening your throne.”

Sophie’s gaze was steady. “This isn’t about the throne.”

“No? That’s a first.”

Sophie’s jaw tightened, but she let it pass.

“This is about a Gate. A trial. And Divine Moonsteel. This is about something the Empire will need very soon—whether it knows it or not.”

Vivian arched an eyebrow. “Which still doesn’t explain anything. So answer me: why was I dragged into a tavern to hear a half-finished mission brief from three barely contained teenagers?”

“We are on a mission and need your sword. You’re the only duelist with the right attributes,” Sophie replied. “Cold-aspected. Under the cultivation limit. We need you for a critical part of the mission.”

“And the mission is to get Divine Moonsteel? For what purpose?”

“To save the world.”

Vivian tapped her fingers against the table. “That’s quite the non-answer.”

Vivian and Sophie stared at each other.

“Yeah, I’m not buying it, Princess. I need a better explanation. What do you need Divine Moonsteel for, and how does that save the world?”

Sophie hesitated. Not long, but long enough to make it obvious.

Vivian saw it.

“So you don’t know,” she said softly. “Or you don’t want to say.”

“I know enough,” Sophie replied. “What’s in that shrine can help build something—something that could alter how we train, how we defend. And it has to remain quiet.”

Vivian tilted her head. “This wouldn’t happen to be related to that machine my husband built, would it?”

Sophie blinked.

Vivian leaned forward.

“The Framework,” she said, savoring the name. “The one my family wanted to bury in a vault, and my husband decided to toss into the world instead.”

Sophie didn’t respond. Vivian’s smile sharpened.

“You don’t actually know anything about the machine, do you? You have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“I know enough. I know that your husband is important, and I am going to help him.”

Vivian gave her a skeptical look.

Sophie didn’t flinch.

Vivian’s eyes narrowed. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“Nothing you don’t already know or couldn’t have guessed. What we are doing is important and dangerous. The wolves are at the door—our collective door—and we are trying to lock them out. Your husband is going to be the one to create the lock. We are going to help him.”

“Then explain why Marissa Lin and my husband’s sisters are here.”

“They are necessary. My plan went… sideways with recent events. We had to improvise.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow. “Does this detour have anything to do with the gala and your idiot fiancé?”

Sophie glared at her. Vivian knew she was right.

“Right. You had a plan for my husband and that didn’t work out. So you recruited my sisters-in-law and Lady Lin instead. I assume for Marissa’s diplomatic ties and the Zhou family’s various holdings on the coastal cities. They’re here to help us remain incognito.”

Sophie’s face lit up in surprise, then quickly masked it. “Yes. The twins and Lady Lin are here to help us get to our destination.”

Vivian exhaled slowly, then finally reached for her tea. She took a single sip.

“This is killing you—asking me for help—isn’t it?”

Sophie narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t about me or you; it’s about the Empire and its people.”

“But you cannot tell me the real details; this is you trusting me.”

“This is me giving you the chance to be essential.”

Vivian set her cup down.

“Fine. I’ll come. I’ll duel your shrine spirit. I’ll win. But don’t expect me to follow orders once I get there.”

Sophie’s lips quirked, just slightly. Not quite a smile.

“I’d be worried if you did.”

The group stepped out into the fading light.

Vivian adjusted her blade strap and turned toward the town gate. “I have some things that I need. I will grab them and get back to you.”

Sophie nodded. “We leave within the hour.”