Shen Yun was still getting used to the Nine Gates Sect.
The courtyards were wide and cold, carved from gray stone, polished until they reflected the sun like ice. Unlike the warmth of Crimson Wing, the halls here echoed with discipline. The disciples trained in perfect sync, like machines. There was no laughter. No familiar faces.
Just rules. Just eyes.
And one of those eyes… always seemed to be Li Feng's.
Everywhere Shen Yun went, he could feel the weight of the sect leader's gaze. From the moment he had been brought in, bruised and unconscious, something had shifted in the Nine Gates Sect. Whispers had begun.
"Who is he?"
"Why is the sect master taking interest in a nobody?"
"He's just a stray."
And yet…
Li Feng would appear unexpectedly, sometimes in the training ground, sometimes in the dining hall. He would say little — usually nothing — but his presence alone froze everyone into silence.
Especially Wei Lan.
Wei Lan had served Li Feng for six years.
He had joined the sect young, grown strong under Li Feng's cold discipline, and earned a place at his side through blood, sweat, and loyalty. People called him the Shadow Flame — a blade that never asked questions, only obeyed.
But lately, something burned inside him that even he couldn't extinguish.
It began with a glance — Li Feng kneeling beside the newcomer, helping him to his feet. Then, the way Shen Yun had looked up at Li Feng, eyes wide, soft, vulnerable.
It felt like watching a mirror crack.
Wei Lan had once stood where Shen Yun stood now. He had once been the one Li Feng watched. But now, his glances felt colder. Shorter. More distracted.
"Why him?" Wei Lan muttered as he trained alone in the courtyard after dark.
The moonlight cast silver across the stone, and his blade cut through the air like thunder.
He struck the dummy again.
And again.
Until the wooden figure split down the middle, splinters scattering like dead leaves and he was breathing heavily...
The next morning, Shen Yun walked slowly along the stone path that circled the inner gardens. He hadn't slept well — dreams of fire, of running, of shifu's last breath still haunted him.
But the Nine Gates Sect had strict schedules. Even those under Li Feng's protection had duties.
He passed by two disciples who gave him sharp looks. One of them muttered something under his breath.
Shen Yun didn't react.
He had learned silence was safer.
But then he tripped — a stone loose under his foot — and he fell, scrolls spilling from his arms.
Before he could stand, a hand reached down.
"Again?"
That low, smooth voice.
Shen Yun looked up.
Li Feng.
Dressed in deep crimson robes embroidered with golden thread, his hair tied high, eyes half-lidded with something unreadable in them.
He didn't smile, but there was no malice. Just… calm.
Shen Yun blinked. "I… I'm sorry."
Li Feng raised an eyebrow. "You apologize too much."
He extended his hand, and Shen Yun hesitated before taking it.
Their fingers touched. The mark on Shen Yun's wrist, hidden beneath the sleeve, flared ever so faintly.
Li Feng's eyes flickered — but just for a second.
He helped Shen Yun up and bent to gather the scrolls himself.
"Be careful next time," he said, tone flat.
Then, he turned and walked away.
Shen Yun stood there, stunned.
He wasn't sure what to feel.
From behind a tree in the distance, Wei Lan watched.
His hand clenched the handle of his sword. His jaw tight.
He had never seen Li Feng pick up anything for anyone. Not even the elders.
Yet for this boy — this stray — he knelt.
That night, Wei Lan requested night patrol.
"Again?" the elder questioned.
Wei Lan bowed. "I can't sleep."
In truth, his mind was a storm. His loyalty to Li Feng had always been unwavering. But now, doubt crept in like rot.
Did he want Li Feng's approval… or something more?
He didn't know anymore.
He walked the perimeter of the sect, sword on his back, footsteps light. As he passed by the outer gardens, he paused.
There, under the moonlight, Shen Yun sat meditating by the peach trees.
The wind gently blew his hair, and for a moment, Wei Lan thought he looked… serene.
He gritted his teeth.
Shen Yun had the life of a traitor sect.
So why did he look so peaceful?
Meanwhile, Li Feng stood at the window of his chambers.
The moonlight painted lines across the floor.
He held a jade cup in one hand, the steam from the tea curling around his fingers.
He thought about the mark.
He had seen the faint glow. He had felt it.
There was no doubt now — Shen Yun had the Scarlet Mark.
And yet… he hadn't said a word.
Why?
Perhaps because he wanted to see what the boy would do. Whether he would reveal it. Whether he would trust him.
Or maybe… maybe he just wanted more time.
Time before everything fell into chaos.
Li Feng drank quietly, eyes sharp.
No one knew his true goal.
Not even Wei Lan.
And that was the way it needed to stay — for now.
The next morning, Shen Yun walked to the training grounds.
He had been invited to join the others for sword practice. Not ordered — invited. It felt strange.
Wei Lan stood across from him.
Expression unreadable. Sword steady in his hand.
Shen Yun bowed slightly.
Wei Lan didn't move.
Then, with a flash, he attacked.
The swords clashed.
Shen Yun barely blocked in time. He stumbled, then ducked a second blow.
"You're too slow," Wei Lan said sharply.
"Sorry," Shen Yun breathed.
"Stop apologizing!" Wei Lan snapped, blade pressing closer.
Shen Yun's eyes widened. Was this training… or something else?
He blocked another strike, then another.
Wei Lan's sword grazed his shoulder — not deep, but enough to draw blood.
He froze.
Wei Lan stared.
And for a moment… something in his expression cracked.
He stepped back, sheathing his sword.
"Next time, don't hold back," he muttered, and walked away.
Shen Yun stood there, heart pounding.
He didn't understand Wei Lan.
But something told him… he was hurting too...
End of Chapter-4