Episode 5 — When Knives Learn Your Name
The first assassination attempt came quietly.
Too quietly.
Li Wei sensed it before he heard it—the sudden wrongness of the night, the way the wind stilled as if holding its breath. He sat upright on his bed, fingers already curling beneath his sleeve where a small steel pin was hidden. Shen Zhiyuan had insisted he carry it.
For peace of mind, the general had said.
The lantern flickered.
Then went out.
Li Wei did not move.
A shadow slipped through the lattice window, soundless as ink spilling across paper. The man landed lightly, blade already drawn, confidence sharpened by the belief that scholars were easy prey.
He was wrong.
Li Wei rolled aside just as the knife struck where his throat had been. Wood splintered. Li Wei slammed his elbow into the assassin's wrist, twisting hard. Bone cracked.
The man hissed.
They struggled—brief, brutal, breathless.
Li Wei was not trained for combat, but he was trained to survive. He drove the steel pin into the man's thigh and scrambled back as blood darkened the floor.
The door exploded inward.
Shen Zhiyuan entered like a storm given shape.
The assassin barely had time to look up before Shen's sword pierced his chest.
Clean. Precise.
No hesitation.
The body collapsed.
Silence followed—thick, ringing silence broken only by Li Wei's uneven breathing.
Shen Zhiyuan turned slowly.
"Are you hurt?"
Li Wei shook his head, though his hands trembled now that the danger had passed.
Shen crossed the room in two strides and gripped Li Wei's shoulders, eyes scanning his face, his neck, his chest—too close, too intense, fingers tightening without permission.
"Answer me."
"I'm fine," Li Wei said sharply. "Let go."
Shen did not.
"You were targeted," Shen said, voice low and furious. "Not random. Not a warning."
Li Wei met his gaze. "Then they're afraid."
That earned a humorless smile.
"They should be."
Shen finally released him, turning to bark orders at the guards flooding the corridor. The assassin was dragged away. Blood was scrubbed. The night pretended nothing had happened.
But neither of them did.
Shen remained.
"You're not sleeping alone anymore," he said.
"That's not your decision."
"It is," Shen replied calmly. "Because the next blade won't miss."
Li Wei scoffed. "And you'll stand guard at my bed?"
"Yes."
The answer came too fast.
Too sure.
They stared at each other.
Something brittle stretched between them.
"You're afraid," Li Wei said quietly.
Shen's jaw tightened. "I don't fear assassins."
"I wasn't talking about them."
Silence.
Then footsteps again—another interruption.
Lord Han Zhen.
He entered with mock concern, eyes flicking pointedly between them, lingering too long.
"So unfortunate," Han said. "To think—an attempt so close to the general's own quarters."
Shen turned slowly.
"Say what you mean."
Han smiled. "Merely that keeping such a valuable man so visible invites envy."
Li Wei felt it then—the tension sharpen, the air thin.
Han Zhen's gaze slid back to Li Wei. Calculating. Possessive in a different way.
"Careful," Han added lightly. "Some men mistake protection for attachment."
Shen Zhiyuan stepped forward.
Just one step.
Enough.
"You will leave," Shen said softly, "before you say something you can't survive."
Han laughed, but there was no humor in it. He bowed and withdrew.
When the door closed, Shen exhaled sharply.
"You attract wolves," he said.
Li Wei replied, "So do you."
That night, Li Wei slept in Shen Zhiyuan's chamber.
Not by choice.
A folding screen separated the bed from Shen's writing table. Shen sat awake long after the lamps dimmed, sword within reach, eyes sharp, listening to every breath.
Li Wei turned restlessly.
"Do you always watch men sleep?" he muttered.
Only silence answered.
Then Shen spoke.
"I will not let them take you."
Li Wei's chest tightened despite himself. "I am not something to be taken."
Shen stood, approaching the screen.
"I know," he said quietly. "That's why they want you dead."
He hesitated—then reached out, fingers brushing the edge of the screen, close enough that Li Wei could feel the warmth of him through silk and shadow.
"If anything happens to you," Shen continued, "this court will drown in blood."
Li Wei closed his eyes.
The words should have terrified him.
Instead, they felt like a vow.
And that frightened him far more.
Outside, dawn crept over the palace roofs, pale and uncertain.
Inside, two men lay awake, separated by silk and silence, each aware of the same dangerous truth:
The knives had learned Li Wei's name.
And Shen Zhiyuan was no longer just guarding him—
He was willing to burn the empire to keep him breathing.