The air in Cixi's private chambers was, as always, thick with the cloying scent of orchids and expensive incense. It was a perfume of absolute power, designed to soothe and intimidate in equal measure. But tonight, it did nothing to calm the frantic, terrified pounding of Lotus's heart. He knelt on the plush, silent carpet, his forehead pressed so hard against the floor that the intricate pattern of the wool was imprinted on his skin. His mission, his very first day as the Emperor's companion, had been a catastrophic failure, and now he had been summoned to deliver his report.
His usual, carefully cultivated mask of charming composure had been shattered. It was replaced by the pale, wide-eyed terror of a man who has stared into the abyss and seen something impossible staring back. His entire worldview, his understanding of strength and power forged in years of brutal, secret training, had been broken into pieces by a single, inexplicable event.
Cixi sat on her throne-like chair, regarding the trembling boy with cool, appraising eyes. Li Lianying stood beside her, his face a mask of smug anticipation. They expected a report of a lonely child, a boy who could be easily charmed and manipulated.
"Well?" Cixi's voice was smooth, impatient. "You have been with the Emperor for a full day. You have shared his games and his company. Give me your report. Is he merely the sickly, overwrought child the physicians describe, or is there more to him?"
Lotus took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to steady his voice. He recounted the day's events, his words tumbling out, laced with a tremor he could not conceal. He described his initial attempts to befriend the young Emperor, the boy's quiet, watchful nature. He described the game of hide-and-seek in the rockery, framing his own actions as youthful playfulness. Then he came to the crucial moment.
"I was on a high ledge," he stammered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. "I… I slipped. My foot dislodged a stone. A large one. It fell towards where His Majesty was hiding."
Li Lianying's lip curled in a slight sneer. "Careless," he murmured.
"And the new bodyguard, Meng Ao?" Cixi prompted, her voice sharp. "Did he act quickly?"
This was the moment. Lotus's mind replayed the impossible scene. The blur of motion. The sickening, explosive crack. The shattered rock.
"He… he acted, Your Majesty," Lotus said, his voice barely a whisper. "He did not just move the Emperor from the path of the stone. He… he struck it." He lifted his head, his eyes wide with the memory of the event. "With his fist. He struck the falling boulder. A stone large enough to kill a horse. And it… it shattered. It exploded like a firecracker into dust and fragments. He was not harmed. His hand was not even bruised."
A heavy silence descended upon the room. Cixi and Li Lianying stared at the boy, their expressions frozen. Li Lianying was the first to react, his face twisting in a sneer of utter disbelief.
"You are speaking nonsense," the head eunuch said, his voice dripping with scorn. "You are a child, and your eyes deceived you. Or perhaps you are a coward, inventing fables to cover for your own clumsiness. The rock was likely fractured already, riddled with cracks from the winter ice. It broke upon impact with the ground."
"No, Excellency!" Lotus cried, his voice rising in frantic desperation. He knew how it sounded. It was insane. But it was the truth. "I saw it! With my own eyes! The power… the sound it made… it was not human. There was no crack in the stone. It was solid. He destroyed it." He pressed his forehead back to the floor, his body trembling. "And his eyes… the guard, Meng Ao… the way he looked at me afterwards. He knew. He knew it was no accident. And the Emperor…"
"What about the Emperor?" Cixi asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
"He was not afraid," Lotus whispered. "He did not cry out. He did not even seem surprised. He looked at the shattered stone, and then he looked at me… and he smiled. It was not a child's smile, Your Majesty."
Cixi, a woman of immense pragmatism, did not believe in demons or ghosts from old tales. Her power was built on understanding the concrete weaknesses of men: their greed, their fear, their ambition. But she was also a shrewd and unparalleled judge of character. She had spent decades reading the faces of liars, sycophants, and traitors. And she could see the profound, soul-deep terror in her young agent's eyes. This was not a lie concocted to cover a mistake. Lotus, her highly trained, disciplined serpent, genuinely believed every impossible word he was saying.
She leaned back in her chair, her mind racing, processing this new, unbelievable variable. Meng Ao. The foundling from the desert. The man whose skill in the training yard was already the stuff of legend. She had thought him merely a supreme martial artist, a fine weapon to be owned. But this… this was something else. This was a power that defied logic and reason.
"So," she said softly, more to herself than to anyone else, "the orphan from the desert is more than just a skilled soldier. He possesses the strength of a legend."
Her plan to use Lotus as a subtle, intimate spy to probe the Emperor's mind was now in ruins. How could her agent get close to the boy if he was being guarded by a superhuman protector, a man who could shatter stone with his bare hands?
She looked down at the trembling boy on the floor. He had failed in his primary objective. But he had not failed completely.
"You have brought back valuable, if unbelievable, intelligence," she said, her voice regaining its cold composure. This changed everything. "Your mission is altered. Continue your duties. Be the boy's friend. Laugh at his games. Do not, under any circumstances, provoke the guard again. You are no longer to test him. You are to watch him. You are to listen. I want to know the nature of this 'strength.' Does he tire? Does he eat or drink differently from other men? What is his relationship with the Emperor? Find the seams in his armor. Every man, no matter how strong, has a weakness."
Lotus nodded numbly, relieved to have escaped punishment. As Li Lianying led him away, Cixi was left alone in the silent, orchid-scented room. She was deeply, profoundly unsettled. For the first time in many years, she was facing a problem that could not be solved with a political maneuver, a well-placed bribe, or a quiet assassination. She was facing an unknown variable, a piece on the board that did not obey the known rules of the game. Her fear, a feeling she despised, began to mingle with her paranoia, creating a potent, poisonous brew in her mind. A new, more dangerous game had just begun.