As his eyes dropped to the Sky Drop Tassel by my waist, his expression tightened. Memories crowded me—of a dark cave, a taunting laugh, the tip of Liwei’s sword pressed to my flesh … and how close we had come to losing each other.

I stared through the doorway until the footsteps receded to silence. For the first time ever, strangers would reside beneath the roof of my home. I forced from my mind the recollection of the last time I had felt this way here—a child hiding from the Celestial Empress, pressed against the stone wall, half frozen with fear.

Chapter 2

My fingers stilled above my qin as I stared out the window. Master Haoran was heading toward the forest as he had done every evening for the past week, a bamboo basket strapped onto his back. His whistling pierced the air, its pitch scraping my nerves. Silver scissors glinted in the evening light as he twirled them deftly. Would his fingers be equally nimble when wielding a weapon?

“This song you are playing is one even I can attempt.” My mother’s voice from behind interrupted my thoughts.

I smiled faintly, pushing the qin aside. My mother had neither skill nor interest in music, which was why it had been Ping’er who instructed me.

She sat down, clasping her hands on the table. “You don’t seem fond of our guests.”

“Just one in particular.” I tilted my head toward the window.

“Why don’t you like Master Haoran? He is well-mannered and considerate.”

I had no real cause to dislike him. It was just a feeling, like the shift in the air from an immortal’s aura, the prickling sensation of being watched. And, as Liwei had said, I should trust my instincts … or at least not silence them in favor of what I wished were true.

I did not want to be right; I did not want any danger to come to our home.

“He is guarded. Tense, as though he is hiding something,” I explained haltingly. “Whenever I ask him a question, he deflects it, moving the discussion from himself.” Evasion was something I was attuned to, having spent years concealing my identity.

“Maybe he is unused to company. Some people feel uncomfortable talking about themselves; some prefer to listen.” My mother added, “Master Haoran is afraid of you. Do you realize how you look at him? Eyes pinched, lips curled.” She touched my hand gently. “Xingyin, I know you’ve been hurt. If you suspect everyone, you might eventually be proven right—but you will end up disappointed nonetheless. Sometimes, by treating others with mistrust, you invite it upon yourself. By refusing to see the good in them, you might lose something precious that you never allowed yourself to find.”

Her words rang true. These days I caught myself finding a sneer in a smile, menace in a frown. Searching for enemies in every shadow.