Mystique Soul: A Cultivator's Flame
Chapter 92

Chapter 92: Chapter 92

Tian Heng stepped into the small, familiar house, the scent of old wood and faint incense clinging to the air. This was his home, had always been, but at this moment, it felt distant, as if he were intruding in a place that no longer belonged to him.

The morning light seeped through the gaps in the wooden walls, casting long, golden streaks across the floor. His mother and younger siblings had left early, likely to sell whatever they could at the market. The silence was unsettling.

He exhaled softly, reminding himself of why he was here. Find anything useful. Anything that might help Feng Jiao Xue uncover the truth.

Tian Hao wouldn’t have been careless. His older brother was ambitious, always chasing something bigger than this tiny house, bigger than the life they were given. He had left home young, eager to carve a place for himself in the palace. It had worked, somehow, against all odds, he had made it. And yet, even from a distance, he had never let go of this house.

Tian Heng moved first to their mother’s room. It was neat, sparsely decorated except for the old wooden chest near the bed. He knelt beside it, fingers grazing over the rough edges before he unlatched it.

Inside, he found the usual things, clothes folded with care, a few silver pieces tucked away in a cloth pouch. Then, beneath them, a small bundle of letters.

He swallowed, carefully lifting the papers.

They were from Tian Hao.

His gaze flickered over the ink, the handwriting familiar but more refined than he remembered.

"Mother, I have sent silver. Use it wisely. Do not trust anyone outside of those I have named."

Tian Heng frowned. Named? Who had Tian Hao told her to trust?

He shifted through the stack, each letter similar in tone, assurances of wealth, instructions to be careful, vague warnings wrapped in promises of a brighter future.

His fingers tightened around the edges. He had expected something like this, but seeing it was different. His brother wasn’t just supporting their family out of duty. He was being cautious, protective. Or afraid.

Setting the letters aside, he moved next to the small wooden shelf near the hearth. His mother kept trinkets there, things she found sentimental but not necessarily valuable. His fingers brushed over an old jade hairpin, a smooth river stone from their childhood, a carefully wrapped bundle of dried herbs, until they landed on something unusual.

A wax-sealed envelope.

Tian Heng hesitated. His mother wasn’t the type to receive formal letters. The seal was unfamiliar, but the paper was thick, of high quality. Not something sent by a villager.

Carefully, he broke the seal and unfolded the parchment. The writing inside was precise, deliberate.

"Your loyalty has been noted. Continue as instructed, and you will not be forgotten. The palace rewards those who serve well."

Tian Heng’s breath caught.

The palace.

He let the letter slip from his fingers for a moment, staring at the words as if willing them to make sense.

Tian Hao had done something. Something irreversible.

Tian Heng swallowed the bitter taste rising in his throat.

Carefully, he refolded the letter and tucked it into his robes. He had found what Feng Jiao Xue needed. But as he stood in the quiet house, surrounded by the remnants of his childhood, he couldn’t ignore the weight settling in his chest.

Was this what it meant to survive? To sell pieces of yourself until there was nothing left?

With a final glance at the empty room, Tian Heng turned and stepped outside, leaving behind the ghosts of a past he could no longer afford to cling to.

Tian Heng barely had time to slip the letter into his robes before he heard the approaching footsteps outside.

He froze. Not now.

A shadow passed over the doorway, and the thin paper screen slid open with practiced ease.

Tian Hao stepped in, flanked by two men. His younger brother looked the same as always, pristine, well-groomed, exuding an air of self-importance that came naturally to those who had already won the game before it even started. His robes, a deep shade of sapphire, were embroidered with golden threads, subtle but unmistakably expensive. His fingers, adorned with delicate rings, twitched as if he were suppressing the urge to sneer.

Tian Heng kept his posture relaxed, lowering his head slightly in what seemed like submission. He had long since learned that the best way to handle his younger brother was to act harmless, to never challenge, to play the role of the beaten dog.

Tian Hao’s sharp gaze swept over the room, pausing briefly at the overturned stacks of old scrolls and books. His lips curled in amusement.

"Well, well..." he drawled, stepping further inside. "If it isn’t my useless elder brother. What a rare sight. I was just thinking it had been too long since I last saw you groveling at Mother’s feet, but here you are, playing the role of a desperate scholar instead."

His two attendants chuckled at the remark, though their eyes remained sharp, observing every movement in the room.

Tian Heng let out a small, nervous laugh, scratching the back of his neck. "You know me, Tian Hao. Always trying to be useful in my own way."

Tian Hao scoffed. "Trying? That’s generous. If Mother had any sense, she would have thrown you out long ago instead of wasting our food on a talentless waste of space."

The words stung, but Tian Heng kept his face carefully blank, only letting a hint of shame creep into his expression. He knew how to play his part. He had to.

Lowering his head further, he clasped his hands together in a show of meekness. "You’re right, as always, younger brother. I’m afraid I’ll never match up to you."

Tian Hao’s smirk deepened, clearly pleased by the response. He stepped closer, the faint scent of expensive incense clinging to his robes. "At least you know your place," he mused, reaching out to flick a speck of dust off Tian Heng’s shoulder with a deliberate slowness.

Tian Heng forced himself to remain still.

"You must have heard, haven’t you?" Tian Hao continued, voice lilting with amusement. "I’ve finally secured a stable position in the palace. A promotion is only a matter of time." He tilted his head, his golden eyes glinting. "And you? Still struggling to light a candle with that pathetic excuse for magic?"

Another round of laughter from the attendants.

Tian Heng forced a chuckle, scratching his head. "Well, you know how it is. Not all of us can be as gifted as you."

Tian Hao let out a short laugh. "Indeed."

His gaze flicked back to the mess in the room, eyes narrowing slightly. "And what exactly are you doing here? You’re not suddenly planning to study, are you?"

Tian Heng let out a small sigh, shoulders sagging. "Mother’s been on me again about making myself useful. I thought maybe if I found something, an old spell, a technique, I could prove that I’m not completely worthless." He let his voice waver slightly, selling the lie. "Maybe then she’d stop regretting giving birth to me."

Tian Hao stared at him for a long moment before exhaling in amusement.

"Pathetic" he muttered, but there was satisfaction in his tone, as if hearing his brother admit his failures soothed his ego. He turned away, clearly bored with the conversation already. "Well, it’s not like it matters. I doubt you’ll find anything worth knowing here."

Tian Heng bowed his head. "Of course."

Tian Hao turned back to his attendants and made a small gesture. "We’re done here."

As he stepped toward the door, he suddenly paused and glanced back.

"Oh, and brother," he said, voice mockingly sweet. "Do try not to embarrass the family any further."

Tian Heng didn’t respond, only nodding submissively as Tian Hao finally left, his laughter echoing in the hall.

The moment the door slid shut behind them, Tian Heng’s fingers curled into fists.

He took a slow breath, forcing his body to relax. Not yet.

There would be a time when he wouldn’t have to bow his head.

But for now, he had a mission to complete.

The scent of parchment and candle wax lingered in the air as Tian Heng stepped into the small room Feng Jiao Xue had rented. The space was modest, with only a wooden table, a single chair, and a cot pushed against the wall. Shadows flickered along the walls, stretching and shrinking with the dance of the candlelight.

Feng Jiao Xue sat by the low wooden table, her posture relaxed yet undeniably commanding. The candlelight caught the sharp edges of her face, making her seem more like a specter than a living person.

But before Tian Heng could speak, a low growl filled the room.

Mo Tianze.

His silver fur bristled, golden eyes narrowing at the newcomer. His tail flicked, ears pinned back as he stood near Feng Jiao Xue’s side, an unspoken barrier between her and Tian Heng.

The air crackled with tension.

Tian Heng halted just past the doorway, raising a brow at the fox’s reaction. "I take it he doesn’t like strangers" he mused.

Feng Jiao Xue didn’t spare a glance at Mo Tianze, who, at that moment, was staring daggers into Tian Heng with an intensity that would’ve made lesser men back away. "Hn" she just replied, a hand going over to massage Mo Tianze’s nape.

Mo Tianze let out a disgruntled huff, but he relaxed a little bit. His tail flicked again, less aggressively this time, as he settled beside her, chin lifted in a way that made him look both regal and irritated.

Tian Heng didn’t linger on it. He stepped forward, pulling the letter from his robes. "Here. Everything I could find," he said, placing it carefully on the table.

Feng Jiao Xue took the letter without a word, her fingers barely making a sound against the parchment. The seal was unbroken, the paper crisp despite its hurried retrieval. She traced the edge of the letter with a contemplative look before setting it down beside her.

Tian Heng studied her, waiting for some form of acknowledgment. Instead, her gaze flickered past him, to Mo Tianze, whose fur was still bristling.

"You’re unusually tense" she noted.

Mo Tianze scoffed, turning his nose up. "I don’t trust him."

Tian Heng chuckled at that, crossing his arms. "I could say the same about you."

Mo Tianze shot him a glare, but Feng Jiao Xue’s sharp voice cut through the air. "Enough."

Instantly, silence fell between them.

Mo Tianze, despite his clear discontent, huffed and settled beside her, curling his tail around himself like a king dissatisfied with his court.

Tian Heng, on the other hand, merely smirked. "Seems like your fox has a bit of a temper."

Feng Jiao Xue ignored him, unfolding the letter with a deliberate slowness. Her eyes skimmed the contents, her expression unreadable.

Tian Heng waited, though he didn’t expect her to share what was written. He wasn’t foolish enough to ask, either.

Instead, he settled for leaning against the wall, watching her as she read. "So," he said after a moment. "What’s next?"

Feng Jiao Xue’s gaze lifted from the letter, a ghost of a smile curling at the edges of her lips.

"We move forward."