This wing of Jade Immortal Manor served as lodging for visitors. Jared traded a few brisk words with the sentry, then slipped away.
When he returned to the Tranquil Heart Pavilion, the two enslaved guards still stood like posts in the courtyard. He cast them a single glance, his eyes stripped of warmth. They could not be left alive…
The Heart Control Incantation Luther used and the Chaotic Restriction Seal would both weaken with time; if anyone noticed, the risk would land on Jared.
“Follow me to the study.” He issued the order in a tone flat as still water. They fell in behind him without a word. Jared led them deep into the pavilion, into Quentin’s private study layered with isolation arrays. He swung the heavy stone door shut and triggered every muting and barrier seal. Only three bodies now occupied the room.
Jared turned to the two guards, their eyes still cloudy from the spell, and let out a faint sigh. “You served Quentin for years and did your duty. Time and fate are cruel…”
The words had barely faded when his gaze sharpened. Two fingers snapped together, releasing twin lances of concentrated gray chaos that stabbed into each guard’s brow like lightning. No scream, no struggle followed. Both bodies jerked once, the last glimmer behind their eyes went out.
From the inside out they unraveled, silent as erased graphite, turning into the finest gray dust that drifted down. Clothing and gear dissolved with them. The potential threat was gone for good. Jared summoned a steward, issued a few curt instructions, and dismissed him.
As soon as the man left, Jared closed his eyes. Light rippled over his body; stature, face, even aura began to shift at speed. His once-tall Quentin frame compressed, regaining his own balanced, athletic proportions. The gaunt, brooding mask melted like a ripple, revealing Jared’s youthful, clear-cut features. He felt the fabric around his shoulders loosen, threads of teal silk rippling with faint light.
When the glow settled, the weight became a refined moon-white tunic, soft, expensive, yet quiet against the skin. Within three slow breaths, the stiffness he had borrowed for Quentin leaked out.
The study held only Jared now, eyes clear, posture unburdened. He rolled his neck until a faint pop released hidden tension, savoring the unguarded freedom of his own bones.
Posing as a man like Quentin, always weighing words and watching for traps, had stretched his thoughts taut as piano wire. Time for a new name and an open doorway back into Jade Immortal Manor…
After one quiet breath, Jared crossed to the bookshelf lining the right wall. He slid heavy volumes aside, fingers choosing the precise spines Quentin once favored, until a hidden recess exposed itself in the plaster. Inside rested several spare guest-elder tokens, blank talisman sheets, and packets of disguise dust—low clearance, but enough for half the inner court.
Quentin had stashed these contingencies for himself; Jared now claimed them. He plucked a jade-green token, then lifted a stack of blank slips and a pouch of powders. The token settled at his belt. Facing the huge water mirror, Jared started adjusting the face that looked back.
No sweeping change, just softening sharp angles, letting the scholar beneath the soldier breathe. A touch of powder paled his skin, like someone who lived among scrolls, not sunlight. He crafted thinner brows and tucked the blade of his gaze behind a calm, curious sheen. Soon the mirror showed a refined young cultivator, maybe twenty-seven—the kind who would lose himself in footnotes.
Jared nodded, satisfied. This look should match Rania’s idea of a reclusive expert, and the youth wouldn’t hurt his chances with her. One last sweep: no telltale threads, no lingering aura from the night’s work.
Jared stepped toward the window on the opposite wall. Behind the shutters lay a private passage, Quentin’s secret lane, running to a lonely path behind Tranquil Heart Pavilion. He unlatched the frame and glided out like a leaf, vanishing into the night and following that path beyond the pavilion’s wards. He kept to shadow, circled wide, and finally drifted down near the outer fence of the Guest Reception Annex.
Midnight air hung still. The gate was guarded, but the watch was thinner than in the inner court central sector. Jared smoothed his sleeves, shaping a newcomer’s restraint and open curiosity, then walked toward the gate.
“Halt! Identify yourself! Pass?” The guard barred the way.
Jared raised the jade-green token, his voice gentle. “Jared Chance, invited by Grand Chamberlain Quentin Fay to assist with manuscript verification!”
His tone was clear and calm, the cadence of someone certain of welcome. The guard checked the token, noted Jared’s bearing and cultivation, then relaxed. “Mr. Chance, the Chamberlain assigned you Room A-3. This way…”
Jared had already primed the roster through earlier channels; the guard’s response landed exactly as he had planned. He inclined his head with a small smile. “Much obliged…”
Moments later, Jared entered the annex openly, a guest elder on official record. He selected a courtyard ringed by bamboo, quiet enough for study and believable for the persona he wore.
Once inside, he swept the room for sigils or hidden eyes, then sat cross-legged, steadying his breath while his mind raced through tomorrow’s possible encounters.
