At dawn, Rania arrived right on schedule. She wore a pale-yellow gown veiled in gauze; her hair was pinned perfectly, pearl blossoms trembling with each step. When Jared opened the door, her eyes curved into bright crescents.
“Mr. Chance, let’s be off!” she said, excitement bubbling. They walked side by side toward the depths of the inner court and the Library Pavilion beyond. Patrol squads and stewards they passed bowed to Rania with rigid courtesy. Some eyes lingered on Jared, puzzled, yet the warmth between her and the young lady kept every question sealed behind their teeth.
Soon a grand, archaic seven-story tower loomed into view. Its walls were laid with dark green stone carved in countless sigils, the summit lost inside a halo of thin spiritual mist. This was the Library Pavilion of Jade Immortal Manor, cradle of scriptures, alchemy notes, formation blueprints, and histories untold.
Four guards, each at least third rank upper immortal, stood like iron statues at the doorway. The gray-robed elder in front frowned, stepped forward, and saluted. “Ms. Rania…”
“Elder Wood…” Rania sang, still in high spirits.
Elder Wood’s stare sliced toward Jared. “Ms. Rania, the Library Pavilion is restricted. Only core members or holders of the Manor Lord’s or Elder Council’s writ may enter. Though Mr. Chance is a guest, he…”
“Please, Ms. Rania, calm yourself… That was not my intention,” he hastened to say.
“And what, exactly?” Her smile vanished, her small face hardened. “I’m the Manor Lord’s daughter. Are you saying I can‘t escort a friend to read? Am I likely to leak secrets?!”
“Mr. Fay trusts him. Do you doubt me, or do you doubt Mr. Fay?!” Spoiled fire sparked in her tone; for Jared’s sake, she wielded her status like a whip.
Seeing this, Elder Wood’s jaw tightened; opposition would earn only trouble. And Quentin Fay’s name still carried weight. Yet the Manor Lord had issued strict orders just yesterday.
Jared watched Elder Wood’s throat tighten before the words came. “The Manor Lord issued orders yesterday. Security across the manor is on high alert, and the Library Pavilion is under the strictest control…” Then the elder dipped his head, eyes still sharp. “If Ms. Rania must enter with a companion,” he asked, “may I at least inform the Manor Lord first?”
Rania‘s shoulders snapped back. “Inform him about what? My father is in secluded cultivation. You would disturb him over something this trivial?” Her impatience flared. “I’m only stepping in for a moment to check a few books. Anything that happens is on me. Move aside!”
Before anyone could answer, she seized Jared’s hand. Warm fingers closed around his wrist, and she tugged, intent on marching straight through the doorway. Amusement flickered behind Jared’s calm eyes, but he let only a faint, embarrassed smile show—the kind that apologized without using words.
He offered Elder Wood a respectful nod. “Elder, I come solely at Ms. Rania‘s invitation to examine a few troublesome passages… If my presence is improper, I’m willing to wait outside…”
The more modest he sounded, the deeper Rania’s brows knitted toward the elder, her resolve hardening right in front of Jared’s eyes.
“Mr. Chance, there’s no need to stand back!” she insisted. “If I say you may enter, it means you may.” She shot Elder Wood a final daggered glance, then pulled Jared around the line of guards and crossed the Library Pavilion‘s threshold.
Behind them, the elder and the guards traded uneasy looks. A muted sigh rolled through the group, but none lifted a hand to block her. They all understood the young lady’s temper; provoking it served no one. Each man could only hope the Manor Lord would not hold them accountable later.
***
A rush of paper-dust and faint sandalwood washed over Jared as they stepped inside, the scent settling deep in his lungs. He froze a heartbeat, taking in the impossible vastness beyond the door; space-expansion runes made the interior stretch far wider than the tower’s shell.
Tier upon tier of shelves, each several stories tall, marched in perfect columns, packed with jade slips, silk scrolls, bone fragments, even metal tomes that glimmered like dusk. A thin veil of warding light drifted between cases, rippling whenever someone passed.
Rania moved with practiced ease, guiding him up the spiral stairs to the third level. “Most of the ancient miscellany, geographies, stray chronicles, and odd star-charts are stored here,” she explained, excitement leaping into her voice. She began to rummage, every so often plucking out a jade slip and pressing it into Jared’s palm. “Look at this one… And this…”
While Jared discussed glyphs aloud, his spirit sense thinned into hair-fine threads, drifting over the nearby shelves one covert inch at a time. He leaned closer, keeping his voice mild. “Something special?”
The pair sank into a steady rhythm of reading and debate; hours bled away without notice. Every fresh insight from Jared drew a soft gasp from Rania; admiration shone openly in her eyes. She inched ever nearer, and when her hair skimmed the back of his hand, the touch left a prickle of warmth and perfume.
Jared kept his spine straight and his tone measured, never overstepping. But now and then he let a glimmer of soft regard break through, and each time Rania’s pulse visibly quickened.
Rania let out a quiet sigh. “Ugh, these celestials are so annoying…”
Jared glanced over just in time to see her lips push into a pout as she read a record of ancient clan strife, the complaint slipping out under her breath. Keeping his tone mild, Jared followed her lead. “Why does Ms. Rania say that? Aren’t the celestials said to be supreme, ruling the level thirteen heavens?”
She scoffed. “Supreme? Hardly! They’re just human cultivators with better talent and an earlier start,” she muttered, leaning closer so only he could hear.
“Yet they call themselves gods and look down on the rest of us… They throw their weight around the Azure Firmament Immortal Continent, treating clans and sects like vassals and slaves. Even my father…” She lowered her voice, “Has to tread lightly and obey their every whim.”
Resentment edged her words, and for a heartbeat her proud chin trembled. Pride warred with frustration in her eyes; the celestials’ condescension clearly grated on the manor‘s favored daughter.
