Lin Zhen pulled the second cushion across from the meditation mat and lowered himself onto it without ceremony.

"Son. We have a conversation to have."

Senior Elder Ren waited by the door until Lin Zhen offered him a small nod. The old man crossed the boards and took the cushion at Lin Xuan’s left, hands tucked inside his sleeves, back straight despite the hour. The low table between them carried one untouched tea tray, as if the inn had attempted comfort and failed by several provinces.

Lin Xuan faced his father across the lamp. Plain Steel rested against the inner wall within arm’s reach. The Soul Lamp lay hidden inside his robe, warm against his ribs.

"I assume this is not about the inn’s excellent pillow quality."

"No." Lin Zhen did not blink. "It is about Madam Mei."

The name entered the room and did not leave.

’Well. Straight to the point. Saves us time.’

[ Your father did not climb a corridor at this hour with Elder Ren to discuss bedding, Xuan. ]

Lin Zhen pressed his hands once and let them rest on his knees. The patriarch’s face held its line. The fingers gave him away - they bit into the cloth harder than cloth deserved.

"Ren has been watching her since before we left Skyedge. At my request."

Elder Ren did not soften it. "The patriarch ordered me to investigate. I did."

Lin Xuan’s attention swung to him. "What did you find?"

"Movements no first wife should have any reason to make. A meeting in a teahouse during the tournament. And - though it falls outside the period I was ordered to watch - when you were bedridden and the patriarch was in the capital, the corridors of Skyedge were already moving in patterns that did not begin with her this year."

"I see."

"I believe in that teahouse, Young Master, she paid the men who came for you in the alley."

Ren’s beard moved with the set of his jaw. "There is more. After your victory in the final, Madam Mei vanished from the stands while the residence was busy pretending to celebrate with dignity. I followed her as far as the rear passages near the Arena suppliers’ gate. I lost a stretch of the route."

"A stretch."

"Enough to miss the man, if there was one. Enough to see the bird." His jaw worked once. "She released a pigeon. North-bound. A slip tied to its leg."

Lin Xuan let his shoulders ease back by a thread.

’A pigeon.’

[ Which would explain why the violet flame has not flickered since Yuncheng. Whatever she sent already left her hands. ]

’How convenient...’

[ Very. Annoyingly. ]

"Why did you not follow the pigeon?"

"Because I had to choose between the bird and the woman," Ren said. "If she met a hand after releasing it, I could catch the hand. She did not. She crossed back to the residence by another road and wore the same face at dinner."

Lin Zhen’s hands closed once and opened again.

"Lin Kai came to me before we left."

That stopped Lin Xuan where he was.

"He told me about it."

"Which confirms what Ren has been building toward. The alley was hers. You were the target. Su Qingyue was the collateral she did not bother to account for." His father exhaled, slow. "There is proof enough now."

"Then there is proof enough." Lin Xuan held his father’s face across the lamp. "What do you intend to do with your wife?"

The word cut through the room without raising its voice. Lin Zhen accepted it. He did not flinch from wife.

"It depends on what happens before we reach Skyedge."

"And if nothing happens?"

"Then we reach our own walls, close the doors, and continue the work where rumor has fewer teeth. Ren will lock the exits around her. I will pull every servant tied to her wing, one by one. We will trace who carried her messages, who answered them, and how long this has been rotting under my roof."

"And if something happens on the road?"

Ren’s sleeve shifted across his hand. "If we are met by Blood Fang, or by men who could only have known our route through that pigeon, Madam Mei stops being the patriarch’s wife in any useful sense. She becomes a traitor inside the convoy."

The inn groaned under a shifting beam. A horse stamped below. Someone laughed in the yard, unaware that three men on the floor above were discussing whether the road home was about to grow teeth.

Lin Xuan rested one hand near Plain Steel without touching the grip.

"What do you expect?"

"An attempt before the mountain," Ren said. "Or at its foot. The closer we draw to Skyedge, the more control the patriarch has. If the pigeon called for blades, they will want to strike before the sect walls are in sight."

Lin Zhen took the line back. "Tomorrow you ride with Lian and Wei. Say nothing to Madam Mei. Say nothing to Lin Kai unless he speaks first. He has done more than his pride should have allowed already."

"And if the attack comes?"

"Move first," Ren said. "Understand after."

The corner of Lin Xuan’s mouth tilted up by a thread.

"That advice has worked for me before."

"I know. That is why I am giving it again."

Lin Zhen rose. Ren rose with him. At the door, his father paused with one hand against the frame.

"Xuan’er."

"Father."

"If she has done this, I will not ask you to spare her for my sake."

The sentence cost him enough that even Lin Xuan’s sarcasm kept its mouth shut. He inclined his head.

Lin Zhen returned the nod and stepped into the corridor. Ren followed, drew the door closed behind him. Their footsteps eased down the old boards until the inn stopped complaining under their weight.

Lin Xuan stayed on the cushion.

The Soul Lamp warmed half a degree against his ribs. He did not need to lift it from the inner pocket. He knew the wicks by the count of his own breathing now.

And outside, far ahead on the road, something was already riding to meet them in the dark.