While the Lu and Qin princes were busy with their respective madness, a different kind of storm was brewing in the Zhou Empire.

  Emperor Zhou Mingyuan listened to the report from his master spy, a man who had survived the Luòtiān "Sneeze" by hiding in the shadow of a sewage pipe.

  "A draw, you say?" the Zhou Emperor whispered, his fingers tracing the edge of a poisoned dagger. "And the Qin youngest is staying as an exchange student? The Lu and Qin are bonding. This is... unacceptable."

  "Your Majesty," the spy bowed low. "The Seventh Prince, Lu Xian, is the key. He is the heart of their alliance. If he were to... disappear, or be tainted, the Lu siblings would descend into a rage that would blind them. And the Qin would blame the Lu for failing to protect their prince."

  "The Lu siblings are monsters," the Emperor noted, his voice trembling slightly. "But even monsters have weaknesses. They love that boy too much. It makes them predictable."

  He turned to a dark corner of the room. "Is the Blackthorn Sect ready?"

  "They await your command," a voice hissed from the shadows.

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  "Good. We won't attack the boy directly. Not yet. We will strike at what he values. A scratch on the skin of a Royal Consort... a 'gift' that carries a lingering curse... something to draw the monsters out of their lair."

  Back in the Lu Palace, I woke up from my nap feeling significantly stronger. My Qi was swirling in my dantians like a whirlpool of liquid gold. I was dangerously close to the Foundation Establishment Realm.

  I walked out to the gardens to find my mother, Hu Wan, and Noble Consort Wang Li’er. They were sitting at a stone table, drinking tea and laughing about my "Sneeze" fame.

  "Xian-er! You're awake!" Li’er called out, waving me over. She was always the kindest to me, often sneaking me extra sweets when Yueran wasn't looking.

  As I approached, a small, black butterfly fluttered over the palace wall. It was beautiful, with wings that looked like velvet. It landed on Li’er’s wrist.

  "Oh, look at this little thing," she smiled.

  Suddenly, my Origin Dao Body flared. My vision shifted. I didn't see a butterfly. I saw a condensed ball of Forbidden Grade venom disguised as a spirit insect.

  "Don't touch it!" I screamed, lunging forward.

  But I was too slow. Or rather, I was too far away. The butterfly dissolved into a fine black mist, and a small, thin scratch appeared on Li’er’s wrist. It was barely a millimeter deep, not even drawing blood.

  "Xian-er? What's wrong?" she asked, looking at her wrist in confusion. "It was just a bug."

  I stared at the scratch. I could see the black lines of the curse already trying to enter her meridians. It was a "Message" from the Zhou. A warning.

  A cold, ancient rage—something that didn't belong to a five-year-old, but to the "Shark" who protected his own—began to boil in my chest.