Chapter 3
1235 Words
The storm had thinned by dawn, leaving the Liang Estate bathed in a pale silver haze. Mist clung to the bamboo groves like a cautious veil, and the koi pond mirrored the early light in gentle ripples. The world appeared calm, though beneath the calm something had shifted. A quiet tension hung in the corridors, carried on the voices of early rising servants who whispered about lights seen in forbidden places.
Mei Lin had slept for only an hour. Her mind replayed the shadow she witnessed slipping toward the abandoned tower. Each time she tried to dismiss it as imagination, the memory returned sharper. Someone had been out there. Someone who should not have been.
She washed her face at the porcelain basin, tied her hair loosely, and stepped into the hallway. Her stomach knotted as she walked toward the main courtyard. The house felt eerily familiar and painfully foreign at the same time. Every stone tile echoed old footsteps she used to run across as a child. Every carved beam held secrets that likely predated her grandparents.
Voices approached. Mei Lin slowed and spotted Minghao speaking to two board members near the staircase. His suit was immaculate again, his expression cold and precise. He noticed her and his features tightened, though he greeted her with an icy formality to mask the hostility.
“Sister. Early morning for you.”
“Could say the same,” Mei Lin replied.
Minghao dismissed the board members with a nod before turning to her fully. The mask slipped for a moment, revealing raw irritation.
“I suggest you prepare yourself. Reporters already caught wind of the will. Cameras may arrive at the gates soon.”
Mei Lin held her ground. “Then let them come.”
“Defiant,” Minghao said with a humorless smile. “Pretend it helps you.”
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen and his expression soured. Without another word, he walked away. Mei Lin watched him leave and wondered what new problem had arrived. In this family, a problem never traveled alone.
She turned toward the garden, intent on investigating the tower before anyone else did.
Zhang Wei had not slept at all. He had spent the early hours standing beneath the eaves outside the tower, waiting for a moment when he could enter without drawing attention. By sunrise the estate grew too active to risk stealth. Servants passed along the pathways. Gardeners swept fallen bamboo leaves from the stone walkways. Even the widow’s personal attendant drifted nearby with an umbrella, checking for leaks after the storm.
Wei kept his distance, though his thoughts never strayed far from the strange glow he had seen the night before.
He eventually walked back toward the main house. As he reached the veranda, he saw Mei Lin stepping into the garden. Her hair caught the light, giving her a soft silhouette against the mist. She looked more composed than the night before, though her eyes carried exhaustion.
They met near the koi pond.
“You were awake early,” Wei said.
“So were you.”
Neither smiled. Both sensed the other was hiding something. Silence stretched between them, but it felt almost natural.
“Last night,” they said at the same time.
Wei paused. “You first.”
Mei Lin folded her arms, unsure if she sounded paranoid. “I saw someone heading toward the old tower. A figure. Moving quickly.”
Wei exhaled slowly. “I saw it too.”
The air thickened as understanding passed between them.
“I thought the tower was locked,” she said.
“It is,” he replied. “At least it is supposed to be.”
Their eyes drifted toward the structure in question. It stood tall at the far edge of the garden, its stone walls worn by time but still imposing. Only one window was visible, near the top, now dark and still.
What could be inside?” Mei Lin asked.
Wei hesitated. “Your father kept documents there. Old records, private correspondence, things he did not want anyone else touching.”
Mei Lin frowned. “So why did someone go in last night?”
Before Wei could answer, hurried footsteps approached.
“Miss Mei Lin,” called a servant, breathless. “Madam requests your presence in the east parlor. Urgent matter.”
Mei Lin nodded and turned back to Wei. “This is not over.”
“No,” he said quietly. “It is only beginning.”
The east parlor smelled faintly of jasmine tea. Madam Shen Hua sat by the window, her robe tied neatly though her eyes revealed she had slept even less than Mei Lin. Beside her stood a lawyer holding a tablet.
“Mei,” her mother said softly. “Sit. There is something you must see.”
Mei Lin sank into the chair as the lawyer placed the tablet on the table and pressed play. A video flickered to life. Her father appeared on the screen, seated at his desk, posture strong despite his age. The same study where his body had been found.
He looked directly at the camera.
“If you are watching this,” he began, “then my daughter has returned.”
Mei Lin felt her breath catch.
Zhenghai continued. “The estate I built cannot survive without someone who understands both heritage and change. Mei Lin, I chose you. Not because you are the youngest. Not because you are a daughter. Because you carry both strength and compassion in equal measure.”
Her chest tightened painfully as his voice filled the room.
“There is one matter that must be addressed. In the tower, there are records that reveal truths about this family’s finances and alliances. Some are dangerous. Some are shameful. Do not trust every smile around you.”
The video glitched for a second then resumed.
“Remove the rot, and the house will stand again. Ignore it, and everything I built will collapse.”
The screen went black.
Mei Lin’s fingers trembled slightly. Her mother placed a hand over hers.
“Your father wanted you to understand the burden he left behind,” Madam Shen said. “He believed you could bear it.”
Mei Lin whispered, “What is in that tower?”
Madam looked away, as if the question carried a weight she feared to lift. “Secrets that were never meant to surface. Secrets that some may kill to protect.”
A chill swept through Mei Lin.
“Why tell me now?” she asked.
“Because,” Madam said, voice barely above a whisper, “someone has already entered the tower.”
Mei Lin’s heart dropped.
Her mother clasped her hand tighter. “You must be careful, Mei. This estate is not a home. It is a battlefield.”
Outside, by the willow trees, Zhang Wei walked the perimeter of the tower, pretending to admire the garden in case anyone watched. He found a fresh footprint in the mud near the gate. Heavy. Deep. Larger than his own. Not a servant’s, not a woman’s.
Someone had forced the lock. Someone with strength. Someone with intent.
Wei straightened slowly.
He recognized the shoe print.
It belonged to Minghao.
And if Minghao had entered the tower, the rot Zhenghai warned about was much older and much darker than Mei Lin realized.
- Writer
