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 enved guards still stood like posts in the courtyard.


    He cast them a single nce, 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 wouldnd on Jared.


    "Follow me to the study."


    He issued the order in a tone t as still water.


    They fell in behind him without a word.


    He led them deep into the pavilion, into Quentin''s private studyyered with istion arrays.


    Jared swung the heavy stone door shut and triggered every muting and barrier seal. Only three bodies now upied 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 twinnces of concentrated gray chaos that stabbed into each guard''s brow like lightning.


    No scream, no struggle followed.


    Both bodies jerked once; thest 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 framepressed, regaining his own bnced, athletic proportions.


    The gaunt, brooding mask melted like a ripple, revealing Jared''s youthful, clear-cut features.


    He feels the fabric around his shoulders loosen, threads of teal silk rippling with faint light. When the glow settles, the weight bes a refined moon-white tunic-soft, expensive, yet quiet against the skin.


    Within three slow breaths the stiffness he borrowed for Quentin leaks out. The study holds only Jared now, eyes clear, posture unburdened.


    He rolls his neck until a faint pop releases hidden tension, savoring the unguarded freedom of his own bones.


    Posing as a man like Quentin—always weighing words, 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 he crosses to the bookshelf lining the right wall.


    He slides heavy volumes aside, fingers choosing the precise spines Quentin once favored, until a hidden recess exposes itself in the ster.


    Inside rest several spare guest-elder tokens, nk 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 ims them.


    He plucks a jade-green token, then lifts a stack of nk slips and a pouch of powders.


    The token settles at his belt. Facing the huge water mirror, he starts adjusting the face that looks back.


    No sweeping change-just softening sharp angles, letting the schr beneath the soldier breathe.


    A touch of powder pales his skin, like someone who lives among scrolls, not sunlight.


    He crafts thinner brows and tucks the de of his gaze behind a calm, curious sheen.


    Soon the mirror shows a refined young cultivator, maybe twenty-seven, the kind who would lose himself in footnotes.


    Jared nods, satisfied.


    This look should match Rania''s idea of a reclusive expert, and the youth won''t hurt his chances with her.


    Onest sweep—no telltale threads, no lingering aura from the night''s work.


    He steps toward the window on the opposite wall.


    Behind the shutters lies a private passage-Quentin''s secretne, running to a lonely path behind Tranquil Heart Pavilion.


    He utches the frame and glides out like a leaf, swallowing into the night and following that path beyond the pavilion''s wards.


    He keeps to shadow, circles wide, and finally drifts down near the outer fence of the Guest Reception Annex.


    Midnight air hangs still. The gate is guarded, but the watch is thinner than in the inner court central sector.


    He smooths his sleeves, shaping a neer''s restraint and open curiosity, then walks toward the gate.


    "Halt. Identify yourself. Pass?" The guard bars the way.


    He raises the jade-green token, voice gentle. "Jared Chance, invited by Grand


    Chambein Quentin Fay to assist with manuscript verification."


    His tone is clear, calm, the cadence of someone certain of wee.


    The guard checks the token, notes Jared''s bearing and cultivation, then rxed Mr. Chance, the


    chambein assigned you Room


    A-3. This way."


    Jared had already primed the roster through earlier channels; the guard''s response


    He inclines his head with a small smile. "Much obliged.


    Momentster he enters the annex openly, a guest elder on official record.


    He selects a courtyard ringed by bamboo-quiet enough for study, believable for the persona he wears.


    Once inside, he sweeps the room for sigils or hidden eyes, then sits cross-legged, steadying breath while


    mindraces through While


    possible encounters