Daniel
Daniel wasn't expecting anyone to be waiting when he stepped into the outer courtyard in the middle of the day.
The sky was pale gold, the stones still cool underfoot. He wore the formal traveling robe he'd been issued after the wedding—muted gray with understated gold trim. It felt ceremonial enough to pass without drawing attention.
That was the goal.
Leave quietly. Be respectful. Handle the visit. Return.
No fuss.
"Assuming you can control yourself around your asshole brother," Daniel thought toward Ethan. "And your former flame, of course."
He could almost feel Ethan's snort in response.
But he stopped short when he saw Lord Li Zhenhua already standing at the courtyard edge, flanked by two house stewards and a servant holding a scroll case.
Daniel bowed instantly, deeper than usual. "My lord. I didn't expect—"
Zhenhua raised a hand. "Spare the formality this morning, my son-in-law."
Daniel straightened—cautiously.
Lord Li didn't smile, but there was no steel in his expression either.
"I had hoped to accompany you today," he said. "Tradition favors it. But something requires my attention within the inner sect. It can't be helped."
Daniel nodded. He hadn't expected Zhenhua to come. He couldn't even get his wife to accompany him.
"Of course. It humbles this son-in-law that Lord Zhenhua even considered the tradition."
Zhenhua gave a rare smile. "Fear not, my son-in-law. Your parents will be properly honored. I will send formal word. Extend an invitation for them to visit us—properly, when it's appropriate. They raised a fine son. I'd like to thank them in person."
Daniel blinked.
That was more than he expected.
Far more.
"Thank you, my lord," he said, voice even. "They'll be honored."
He was about to step back—assume the conversation was over—when Lord Li gestured toward the waiting carriage.
It was a full Li family ceremonial coach—crested, rune-etched, warded in layers he could feel from several feet away. Two elite riders stood beside it, one bearing his personal seal.
"You'll ride in that," Zhenhua said plainly. "It's properly warded and properly staffed. More importantly, it sends the right message: that the son-in-law of the Li family is not to be trifled with."
Daniel's throat tightened.
He bowed again. "You're being too generous, my lord."
Zhenhua glanced at him. "Nonsense. I would do as much for my sons."
He turned to the stewards. "Show him the second."
Daniel followed their movement, confusion growing—until a second carriage rolled forward. Smaller than the first, but heavier. Guarded on all sides.
It was made of reinforced stonewood, and the sigils along its base shimmered with security enchantments.
The lead steward opened the back panel and gestured inside.
Weapons—polished and at least epic-grade.
Sealed boxes of elixirs, some already marked for internal stabilization use.
A weighty purse. Imperial-standard coinage.
And finally, a scroll case and an embossed land deed.
"Deliver these to your parents," Lord Li said. "From House Li to House Zhou."
Daniel stared.
Zhenhua continued, voice flat but not unkind. "It's tradition. We send a dowry return. And this is a small gesture of thanks—for raising someone we're proud to claim."
Daniel opened his mouth.
Closed it.
Then bowed again, deeper this time. "I will deliver them personally. And tell them everything of your grace and honor, my lord."
Zhenhua nodded once.
"I expect no less, son-in-law."
Without another word, the lord of House Li turned and walked away, leaving a thoroughly bewildered Daniel in his wake.
"I swear you've bewitched this entire group."
Daniel didn't know what to say to that.
The final scroll had just been sealed in the storage case when a steward approached with a small velvet box in hand.
"For you," the man said, bowing. "From the Patriarch. Required for all outbound communication. I am told it's the latest model—not even in stores yet."
Daniel opened it.
Inside was a crystal roughly the size of a small egg—dark blue, faceted like obsidian, but alive with light beneath the surface. As he touched it, the internal lattice shifted—threads of gold and white flickering like circuitry, forming slow, deliberate pulses.
It didn't feel like a gem.
It felt like a magical smartphone—spell-threaded, state-bound, tuned to an invisible network.
A communication device. A locator. A tracking system. A tool for surveillance and connection. Elegant and terrifying all at once.
"Activate it," the steward said. "Your identity must be bound to the signal registry."
Daniel raised the crystal to his lips and whispered the default seal-break phrase.
The crystal glowed faintly.
Then Lord Li's voice came through—clear and formal, touched with just enough warmth to feel unsettling.
"Ethan. This communication crystal is registered with the State Messaging Authority. It will allow you to relay messages directly to the estate and other licensed recipients. Directional projection, long-range pulse linking, encrypted data transfer—it's all there. You are expected to check in regularly. And... the estate is too quiet without your voice in it."
The light faded.
Daniel stared at the crystal in his palm.
It was, functionally, a smartphone.
A magical, state-tracked smartphone.
Encrypted. Monitored. Connected to systems he didn't yet understand.
Built for a clan heir—and tethered to a network that reminded him who was watching.
He had no idea what to say.
So he said nothing at all.
He stepped toward the carriage, handing the crystal off briefly so it could be registered into the regional scrying index. One of the estate's logistics officers murmured a few incantations and handed it back, sealed with the Li crest.
As the servants completed final checks, movement on the far side of the courtyard caught his eye.
Vivian.
She stood in her formal outer robe, flanked by two aides, deep in discussion. She looked radiant. Sharp. Completely uninterested in him.
But then—briefly—her gaze flicked over.
Daniel raised a hand.
Just a wave. No flourish.
She didn't smile.
But she nodded.
And somehow, that was enough.
He climbed into the carriage and sat back, letting the motion of the wheels cradle him as the estate gates fell behind.