Julian let his voice roll across the stone walls. “Gentlemen…” he said, the single word sharp as a bell.
He told them Jared would stay contained in Grace Pavilion, watched, unharmed. Then he shifted.
A colder current settled in his tone. There was something more urgent on the table. He paused, a cold glint in his eyes. “The celestial envoy will arrive in three days, as usual, to collect this season’s tribute and soul crystals.”
At the mention of soul crystals, a faint unease pinched every elder’s face. They all knew what those crystals were, and exactly where they came from. Quentin and the Turner brothers had done the dirty work, but the seal on the order bore Julian’s own hand. None of them were blind.
The treasury elder wetted his lips. “Manor Lord, about the soul crystals…” His voice faded. “That newest Soul-Refining Crystal, the A11-73 Box, still sat locked inside the secret vault, untouched, waiting…”
Julian’s eyes narrowed, a cool gleam surfacing. After a pause he said, “Treat the envoy with our highest honors. As for the soul crystals, tell him the formation faltered after the last harvest, so their quality is unstable. We need a short delay to refine them.”
Delay?
The single word hung in the lantern smoke. Elders traded uneasy looks. Nothing like this had ever happened. The celestials kept strict clocks and stricter standards. Asking for time was the same as poking their rules with a knife. The thought sliced through the chamber; the celestial envoy would never simply let it slide.
Julian felt the weight of that certainty settle between his ribs, cold as unfinished steel.
“Manor Lord, this… It could anger the envoy.” The elder’s voice quavered despite his effort to steady it. Sweat glimmered at the man’s temples, the scent of nervous salt leaking into the still air.
“Infuriate them?” Julian let the question hang, a thin layer of frost on every syllable. A dry laugh slipped from his throat. “For nearly a century, has Jade Immortal Manor ever shorted them a single shard of soul crystal?”
“One unexpected delay,” he continued, voice low but sharp, “A proper explanation, a token compensation—would they really burn my manor to the ground for that? It gives us the perfect chance to feel out their limits, to see how they twitch when pressed.”
He paused, letting the silence tighten. His gaze slid across the elders. “Pass the word… When the envoy arrives in three days, the guards around Grace Pavilion can relax a touch. Especially the hidden patrol routes leading toward the treasury district—adjust their timing.”
The words hit like cold water. Several elders blinked, blank for a heartbeat, then realization struck, draining color from their faces. They understood: the Manor Lord meant to hand Jared a doorway straight to the celestial envoy. Maybe more than a doorway—maybe tacit permission for violence. Playing with fire, nothing less. Likely, dancing on the cliff’s edge.
If the celestials sensed Jade Immortal Manor was colluding against their envoy, annihilation would follow.
“Manor Lord, think twice!” several elders blurted, almost in unison.
“My mind is set.” Julian flicked his sleeve, cutting their protests short. A gambler’s heat flushed his eyes. “Desperate days demand desperate moves. Jared might be a curse… Or a catalyst… Let’s see how high a wave he can raise. If he truly has the skill to maim, or even keep, the celestial envoy, then perhaps Jade Immortal Manor’s path shifts for good.”
His gaze drifted toward Grace Pavilion, unreadable currents swirling behind it.
*Daughter, this time your sweetheart, and the entire manor, become my stake in a towering gamble… Win, and the horizon blows open; lose, and ashes are all that remain…*
Silence pooled, thick and absolute.
***
Three days flicked past in a blink.
Lanterns and banners lit the manor, but an odd tautness tugged at every smile. Julian threw the gates wide and stood outside with his core elders, backs straight as pikes. By late morning, a clear phoenix cry rang across the sky.
A jeweled carriage, hauled by three snow-white Jade Phoenixes and ringed by silver, armored celestial guards, broke through the clouds and drifted to the manor gate. The curtain lifted. A young man in a moon-white star-embroidered robe stepped down, handsome yet edged with arrogant shadow. He looked barely twenty, yet the pressure rolling off him screamed sixth-grade Upper Immortal.
A pale nimbus haloed his form; his gaze skimmed over the crowd like a king sizing up insects. This was Clive, the celestial envoy here for tribute.
“Welcome, Mr. Clive!” voices rose in practiced harmony.
Julian stepped forward, hands cupped, every movement steeped in courtesy. Clive answered with a curt grunt, swept his eyes over them, then strolled inside as if returning to his own courtyard. “Manor Lord Jade, my time is short. Are the offerings and soul crystals prepared or not?”
Julian hurried after him, a smile pinned in place. “The journey must have been taxing. The banquet is set, and the offerings await your inspection… Only the soul crystals… suffered a small mishap.”
“Hmm?” Clive’s tone sharpened like a drawn blade. He halted, turned his head, eyes cooling. “A mishap?”
“After the last collection, the array at Soulfall Slope flickered. The condensation process grew unstable… To guarantee quality, we’re reinforcing the crystals. A few more days, Envoy, and I will personally deliver them to Divine Punishment Hall and beg the venerable ones’ pardon…” Julian answered.
Clive studied him for several breaths, then smiled—a dead thing wearing lips. “Manor Lord Jade, you’ve ruled Jade Immortal City for years with prudence. This… this truly catches me off guard… Fine… Since there’s a cause, a short delay is acceptable. But spare me the feast. I must head to the next manor. Count the tribute, hand it over, and I’ll leave at once.”
Julian watched the envoy’s half-smile. Inside, the man’s pale eyes flicked a thin, chilly doubt that belied his easy tone. Julian could tell the man took the words only halfway; the flicker behind his gaze made that plain.
Even so, the envoy clearly meant to avoid a scene while he stood inside Jade Immortal Manor. He seemed intent on grabbing the tribute, quitting the grounds, and letting his people dig into the crystal issue afterward.
“Yes, yes… The tribute is ready in the treasury. Please, envoy, come verify it.” A cool prickle slid along Julian’s spine; the envoy was not so easily fooled, yet Julian kept his face deferential. He led the party toward the treasury wing.
