The three characters on the stone slab glimmered with a cold chill beneath the firelight. "Those who step wrong, enter"—they seemed like a whisper rising from the earth itself. Chen Wuya stared at the carved words, then withdrew his foot after a moment and turned to shield the two children behind him. Bai Zhi returned her sword to its sheath, though her fingers still rested on the hilt as her gaze swept into the depths of the hidden passage.
"Go back." Those were the only two words he said.
The group retraced their path without another word. Fine sand covered the stone slab again, and the formation markings vanished as though nothing had happened. But Chen Xuan remembered the strange poses on the walls. Chen Yao remembered the direction in which the sand had flowed. And Bai Zhi had clearly seen the disturbance in Chen Wuya's true qi when he struck his shoulders with that palm—it was not martial arts, but something rebuilt after every rule had been torn to shreds.
By the time they returned to the courtyard at home, dawn had broken. The morning breeze passed through the bronze bells beneath the eaves, making them chime softly. Chen Wuya untied his pack and leaned it against the wall. He had barely crouched to wipe away his sweat when Chen Xuan hurried over.
"Dad, I want to learn that move you did earlier."
He mimicked the motion of striking both shoulders with his palms, his shoulders bobbing up and down in a comical display. Chen Wuya looked at him, then at Bai Zhi standing beneath the corridor. Her brows were faintly knit, her fingers unconsciously rubbing the sapphire on her sword tassel.
"You're still too young," he said.
"But little sister could tell that the sand was moving!" Chen