Clouded Peak Pavilion rose from morning mist like a lotus opening to sunlight. Three-tiered structure with eaves curved like swallow wings, its jade tile roofs glistening where dew hadn't yet evaporated.

The complex sprawled across three mountain terraces, each level connected by stairs carved from white marble that caught sunlight and scattered it into fragments. Pavilions occupied strategic positions—some overlooking valleys that dropped into cloud-filled depths, others perched near waterfalls that sang with spiritual energy. The architecture blended regional styles, acknowledging that neutral territory required accommodating diverse cultivation philosophies.

Xiaolong stood at the entrance courtyard, adjusting to the ambient spiritual pressure that saturated Clouded Peak's grounds. Around her, the Azure Waters delegation adjusted travel robes and gathered belongings. Master Yuan moved with recovering dignity, Elder Wei arranged spiritual tokens, Elder Liu reviewed the conference schedule, Li Feng and Ming Lian assisted with luggage.

Golden Sun Sect disciples moved through the spaces with the ease of hosts, directing traffic, resolving minor disputes over room assignments, ensuring every sect received accommodations that reflected their status without creating offense. Master Jin Huoyan stood at the main hall's entrance, greeting each sect leader personally, his fire-element cultivation radiating warmth that made the mountain morning feel more like summer.

"Guardian Elder Xiaolong." Master Jin's voice carried across stone courtyard as the Azure Waters delegation approached. "How wonderful that you've embraced your nature so openly."

His gaze fixed on her horns with the particular intensity of someone examining rare artifacts. Unlike Azure Waters members, who treated her appearance as settled fact, Jin Huoyan looked like a connoisseur appreciating a masterpiece he hoped to acquire.

Xiaolong had worn Su Hu's decorative cuffs, silver bands that caught the light and transformed her horns from strange growths into intentional something that could pass as elaborate accessories to the willfully ignorant.

She inclined her head. "My nature has always been open, Master Jin. The visibility has merely increased."

The corner of his mouth twitched. "An excellent phrasing. I look forward to seeing what Guardian Elder Xiaolong can contribute to our discussions."

"Your hospitality honors all attending sects."

"We're pleased to provide neutral ground." Master Jin's attention shifted to Master Yuan, examining the Azure Waters sect leader with the focus of someone checking for cracks in porcelain. "Master Yuan. Your recovery progresses well?"

"Well enough to travel, well enough to contribute." Master Yuan's voice carried steady authority. No tremor, no hesitation, nothing that betrayed recent corruption or purification trauma. "Black Dao threatens all orthodox cultivation. Personal difficulties cannot excuse absence from coordinated defense."

The exchange satisfied whatever test Master Jin had posed. He gestured toward the middle terrace. "Guest quarters are prepared. The opening ceremony begins at sunset. Until then, please refresh yourselves from your journey."

Their assigned rooms occupied the western wing, connected to a small courtyard with a water feature that sang with spiritual resonance. Separate suites for elders and disciples, but arranged in close proximity—the physical manifestation of Azure Waters' approach, where hierarchy and community existed in harmonious balance.

Xiaolong settled into her suite, opening doors to allow mountain breeze through rooms that smelled of cedar and incense. She stood at the window, watching other delegations arrive.

Storm Ridge Academy's cultivators moved with the controlled violence of people trained for constant conflict. Jade Mountain Conservatory's scholars carried themselves with the particular arrogance of those who valued knowledge over combat capability. White Cloud Temple's monks floated rather than walked, their movement techniques creating the impression of perpetual meditation.

And then—northern delegation.

Three figures approached from the mountain path, their spiritual signatures carefully muted. The lead cultivator wore dark robes of simple cut, embroidered only at cuffs and collar with symbols that resembled ancient script more than decorative patterns. His movements carried the unnatural smoothness Xiaolong recognized from their previous encounter at Cloud Summit.

Master Zhao Xieren.

Even at this distance, Xiaolong recognized him. The way he held himself. The cold patience in his bearing. The spiritual pressure he suppressed that occasionally flickered with an essence far older than his apparent age.

Their gazes met across the courtyard. Zhao's lips curved—not a smile, but acknowledgment. Recognition between beings who knew what the other was beneath surface appearances.

Xiaolong's horns warmed. Dragon nature stirring, responding to Tianmin's essence the way tides responded to celestial bodies.

A knock interrupted her observation. Li Feng entered without waiting for permission, the informality born of established relationship.

"You saw him."

"I saw him." Xiaolong turned from the window. "He's not hiding his interest anymore."

"We maintain formation." Li Feng crossed to stand beside her, his presence grounding. "You're never alone with him. If he approaches, Ming Lian or I create emergencies that require your attention. Elder Wei's orders."

"I can handle scholarly curiosity." The defensiveness came sharper than intended.

"I know." Li Feng's hand found her shoulder, the contact sending familiar calm through her. "This isn't about your capability. It's about strategic positioning. You and Master Yuan represent Azure Waters' strength. Me and Ming Lian represent our future. Elder Liu and Elder Wei represent our wisdom. We move as one formation, not individual warriors."

His assessment resonated with Elder Liu's diplomatic training—the concept of presenting unity rather than isolated strength. Dragons rarely considered formations, preferring individual capability. But Azure Waters operated through harmony.

"The evening ceremony starts soon," Li Feng said. "Elder Liu wanted to discuss seating arrangements one more time before we gather."

"She believes I should sit between Master Yuan and Elder Wei?"

"She believes it establishes your authority while keeping you protected from flanking approaches."

"It's absurd that we must strategize seating."

"It's even more absurd that we're having this conversation with an Ancient Observer's proxy present, yet here we are."

The opening ceremony filled the main hall to capacity.

Twelve sects arranged themselves according to complex hierarchies—host sect at the head, strongest allies flanking, neutral parties occupying middle ground, and uncertain affiliations scattered through spaces that allowed observation without commitment. Azure Waters occupied respectable positioning on Master Jin's left, three seats removed from the head table but clearly within the inner circle.

Xiaolong sat between Master Yuan and Elder Liu. Li Feng and Ming Lian took positions at the adjacent table with other promising disciples—the next generation of sect leadership, present to learn and be evaluated.

Master Jin opened with formal welcome, his words carrying the practiced eloquence of someone who'd spent months preparing this speech. He acknowledged the Black Dao threat, praised inter-sect cooperation, and emphasized the necessity of coordinated response over isolated territorial defense.

Then sect leaders presented their situations.

Storm Ridge Academy reported three corruption incidents in two months—junior disciples found with tainted cultivation, water sources poisoned with demonic qi, and one attempted assassination of their deputy headmaster that failed only because the target happened to possess unusual resistance to spiritual poison.

Jade Mountain Conservatory described systematic theft of ancient texts from their archives, all relating to techniques that might counteract Black Dao corruption. The thieves hadn't been caught, but spiritual residue suggested organized operation beyond typical rogue cultivators.

White Cloud Temple's abbot spoke in the measured cadence of deep meditation. "Black Dao seeks to destabilize, not merely to destroy. Their attacks create fear, undermine confidence in leadership, and force us to doubt our foundations."

Master Yuan rose when his turn came. The hall's attention focused, assessing, measuring. Xiaolong felt the weight of their scrutiny—watching not just Master Yuan but the entire Azure Waters delegation, searching for signs of weakness or instability.

"Black Dao infiltrated our sect through corruption of leadership." Master Yuan's voice carried across stone chamber without raising in volume. "I was targeted. Compromised. The techniques used were sophisticated, designed to present as enlightenment rather than invasion."

Murmurs rippled through assembled cultivators. Admitting corruption carried shame even when purification had succeeded.

"But our Guardian Elder recognized the threat and performed purification that preserved my cultivation base without permanent damage." Master Yuan's gaze swept across the hall. "Black Dao tests our defenses. They probe for weakness. And when they find it, they strike. My situation proves that no sect leader is immune."

He detailed the investigation—corrupted water sources, organized attacks, sophisticated techniques that required training and resources. The pattern matched what other sects reported. Different targets, different methods, but the underlying strategy was consistent: undermine leadership, corrupt resources, create chaos that prevented coordinated defense.

When Master Yuan finished, the hall held thoughtful silence.

Then Master Zhao stood.

He'd positioned himself at the periphery, an inconspicuous presence among scholars and secondary leaders. But as he rose, attention followed like iron to lodestone. His pale skin seemed almost luminous in the hall's lamplight.

"If this humble observer may offer perspective." Zhao's voice flowed smooth and cold. "The purification technique Guardian Elder Xiaolong employed interests me greatly. Traditional methods for removing Ocean Depth corruption require months of careful treatment. Yet Master Yuan recovered in days. The methodology must be extraordinary."

Every eye turned toward Xiaolong.

She rose slowly, buying time to select appropriate words. "The technique recognizes that corruption inverts natural principles. Rather than forcing removal, I helped the affected essence remember its original nature. Like water finding its level."

"Fascinating." Zhao's gaze fixed on her horns, cataloging. "Such intuitive understanding of essence manipulation transcends typical cultivation theory. One might almost call it... primordial. As though working from principles that predate formal technique development."

The hall's attention sharpened. Primordial. The word carried implications—power from before the Heaven-Earth Separation, when immortals and humans occupied the same realm, when cultivation methods were discovered rather than taught.

"This one's training emphasizes fundamental understanding over formal technique." Xiaolong kept her voice level, her spiritual pressure controlled. "Water flows. Fire burns. Earth endures. Working with nature rather than against it requires no ancient secrets, only observation and patience."

"Observation and patience." Zhao's smile never reached his eyes. "Qualities that develop over time. Considerable time, one imagines, to achieve such mastery."

The implication hung obvious—how old was she? How long had she trained? What lineage produced such capability?

Master Jin intervened before the exchange could escalate. "We're grateful for Guardian Elder's contribution to Azure Waters' recovery. Her presence at this conference demonstrates inter-sect cooperation's value." He shifted topics smoothly, redirecting discussion toward defensive formations and communication protocols.

But Zhao's attention never left Xiaolong. His gaze tracked her like hunger observing sustenance.

Evening brought exhibitions—each sect demonstrating techniques for mutual benefit and barely concealed competitive assessment.

Master Jin performed first, his Phoenix Rising Flames technique transforming the practice courtyard into a column of fire that reached toward twilight sky. The flames took avian form, wings spreading thirty paces, heat washing across observers in waves that tested their defensive cultivation.

Applause followed. Appropriate praise offered. Master Jin accepted acknowledgment with practiced humility that fooled no one.

Other sects followed. Storm Ridge Academy showed explosive combat techniques emphasizing overwhelming force. White Cloud Temple demonstrated meditation cultivation that created visible auras of tranquility. Jade Mountain Conservatory performed synchronized formation work that required six cultivators moving in perfect harmony.

When Azure Waters' turn came, Li Feng stepped forward.

Xiaolong watched him move to the courtyard's center, his sword drawn, his posture carrying the fluid certainty of water finding its course. He'd chosen the Flowing River Palm sequence—defensive technique that showcased philosophy without revealing their sect's most powerful methods.

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Water rose from the practice courtyard's decorative pools, responding to Li Feng's cultivation. He shaped it through movement rather than force, palm strikes directing flows that wrapped around themselves, creating intricate patterns that demonstrated control without aggression.

Beautiful. Elegant. Perfect execution of Azure Waters philosophy.

And throughout the demonstration, Zhao watched. Not Li Feng's technique, but Xiaolong's reaction. Studying her face, her posture, the way her spiritual pressure fluctuated in response to seeing someone she cared for performing under scrutiny.

When Li Feng concluded, Xiaolong applauded with the careful enthusiasm Elder Liu had coached. Praise for technique without appearing partial. Encouragement without revealing connection.

But Zhao's small, satisfied smile said he'd cataloged exactly what he needed.

Master Jin approached Xiaolong as the next sect prepared their demonstration. "Guardian Elder. Your disciple shows considerable promise."

"Senior Brother Li Feng is not my disciple." The correction emerged automatic. "We train together occasionally, but his cultivation path is his own."

"Ah." Master Jin's eyes gleamed with the particular interest of someone who'd just confirmed interesting gossip. "Forgive my assumption. Still, his techniques reflect your influence. That prismatic element I saw at Cloud Summit, subtle here but present—unmistakable."

Xiaolong's spiritual pressure rose before she could suppress it. The water in the nearby garden fountain developed iridescent sheen. She extinguished it immediately, but not quickly enough.

"Water cultivators throughout history have emphasized adaptation." Xiaolong kept her tone neutral. "It's hardly unique to Azure Waters." The deflection was as thin as gossamer.

"True." Master Jin's smile widened. "But few incorporate what appears to be the interplay of elemental light within water forms. A synthesis usually only achieved at considerably higher cultivation realms. Or..." He paused deliberately, "through access to more... fundamental principles of harmonization."

He was testing her. Poking at the same weak point Zhao had probed. She could practically feel the spiritual senses of multiple leaders focused on their exchange, feigning disinterest while absorbing every detail.

"The Way of Flowing Water teaches that water reflects all." Her words, chosen from Elder Liu's diplomatic training scenarios, felt inadequate. "It contains all. Perhaps what you see is simply water revealing a potential it always carried."

"Cleverly stated." Master Jin inclined his head. "I would value the opportunity to observe your own demonstration. Compare methodologies, as it were."

Political trap dressed as scholarly interest. Declining without cause would seem evasive. Accepting meant performing techniques that might reveal more than she intended. Elder Liu's training provided the script.

"This one's methods emphasize fundamentals over spectacle. Perhaps a more appropriate venue would be scholarly discussion rather than public exhibition?"

"Of course." Master Jin bowed gracefully. "Another time, then."

But Zhao had drifted closer during the exchange, his movements placing him within conversational range. "Guardian Elder. Might I request a private conversation? Scholarly matters better discussed away from crowds."

Li Feng materialized at Xiaolong's elbow before she could respond. "Guardian Elder, Elder Wei requests your presence regarding formation placement. Apparently there's a territorial dispute that requires your perspective." He gestured vaguely toward the north pavilion. "Minor, but urgent."

A perfect, transparent fabrication. Ming Lian appeared behind them, looking earnestly concerned. "Something about the waterfall access. The Verdant Grove cultivators are being territorial again."

Zhao's polite smile didn't waver. "Of course. Duty calls." His gaze rested on Li Feng with unnerving intensity. "Your student is quite... prompt."

"Of course." Xiaolong inclined her head toward Zhao. "Perhaps tomorrow we might find time for scholarly discussion."

"I look forward to it." Zhao's smile carried patience that transcended human lifespans. "My master takes great interest in unique cultivation approaches. I'm certain our conversation will prove... illuminating."

They retreated, Li Feng's hand light against her elbow, guiding her through clusters of cultivators toward a temporary sanctuary in the northern pavilion.

"That was close," Li Feng said quietly.

"He's not trying to hide his interest anymore."

"No. He's announcing it. Making clear that declining his attention creates social complication." Li Feng's jaw tightened. "He's hunting you in front of everyone, forcing you to either engage or appear rude."

Ming Lian fell into step beside them as they crossed toward the guest quarters. "That scholar gives me profound discomfort. His spiritual signature wavers like reflection in disturbed water. Human, then not, then human again."

"Proxy vessel." Xiaolong kept her voice low. "His master inhabits him periodically, using his body to observe and interact."

"That's deeply disturbing." Ming Lian's usual humor had evaporated. "Who does that? What kind of cultivation requires possession?"

"Not possession. Agreement. The human gains access to ancient knowledge and power. The immortal gains the ability to interact with the mortal realm without manifestation restrictions." Xiaolong glanced back toward where Zhao stood observing other demonstrations, his attention still tracking her movement. "It's an old practice. Uncommon, but not unheard of among beings who value observation over direct engagement."

They reached the guest quarters' relative privacy. The evening demonstrations continued in the distance—sounds of techniques and applause carrying through mountain air.

"We maintain formation tomorrow," Li Feng said. "You're never alone with him. If he corners you during meals, during demonstrations, during any gathering—we're there. Creating interruptions, manufacturing emergencies, providing excuse for departure."

"I appreciate the protection. But I can handle scholarly questioning."

"Can you handle being treated like a fascinating specimen?" Ming Lian's tone carried unusual edge. "Because that's what he's doing. Not respecting you as Guardian Elder, not approaching you as peer—studying you like a creature in a menagerie."

The comparison landed with uncomfortable accuracy. Zhao's attention carried the quality of naturalists observing rare animals, cataloging behaviors and characteristics without recognizing the observed being's personhood.

"Get some rest," Li Feng said. "Tomorrow will require all our attention."

Xiaolong meditated in her quarters, spiritual energy cycling through meridians that had grown increasingly stable since the Heart Tree's gift months ago. The Azure Waters cultivation manual lay open beside her—she'd been reviewing defensive formations, preparing for tomorrow's inevitable challenges.

A presence manifested outside her door.

Not knocking. Not announcing. Simply appearing, spiritual pressure controlled to near-invisibility but impossible to miss for someone with draconic senses.

Zhao.

Xiaolong rose slowly, considered not responding, then acknowledged that avoiding conversation only delayed inevitable confrontation. She opened the door.

He stood in the corridor, dark robes blending with evening shadows. His eyes held that unsettling light—human consciousness receding, something far older surfacing.

"Guardian Elder. Forgive the late intrusion." His voice carried harmonics, multiple tones layered in ways human vocal cords shouldn't produce. "But my master grows impatient. He requests your presence. A private conversation. Scholarly exchange between immortals."

"Your master should make requests during appropriate hours through proper channels."

"My master is not accustomed to proper channels." The harmonics intensified, spiritual pressure subtly increasing despite careful control. "He operates outside human protocol. As do you, I think. The pretense of sect formality must grow tiresome."

Xiaolong's spiritual pressure spiked. She suppressed it before her horns could glow. "What does your master want?"

"To discuss the Descending Dragon Path with the only being to have attempted it in five millennia."

The corridor tilted. Xiaolong's hand found the doorframe, steadying herself against words that shouldn't exist—shouldn't be known, shouldn't be spoken, shouldn't connect her to that forbidden knowledge in a mountain corridor surrounded by mortal cultivators.

"How does he know that name?"

Zhao's eyes blazed with cold fire—Tianmin's essence surging forward, speaking through his human vessel with growing directness. "Because, Guardian Elder Xiaolong, my master created it."

The world narrowed to those six words. Created it. The forbidden scroll she'd found in her own collection, techniques so dangerous most dragons dismissed them as theoretical exercises. The methodology for divine beings to voluntarily limit themselves, to shed power and cosmic nature in pursuit of understanding mortality.

Tianmin. The Ancient Observer. The dragon who cataloged everything, understood all variations, existed outside draconic society while simultaneously defining its boundaries through sheer accumulation of knowledge.

Had he created the Descending Dragon Path?

"As a thought experiment," Tianmin continued through Zhao's lips, the transformation nearly complete—the puppet becoming the puppeteer. "A theoretical framework to explore potential divergence from established draconic patterns. I never imagined any dragon would actually attempt such self-mutilation."

"This one's transformation is not self-mutilation."

"Isn't it?" Tianmin leaned closer, proximity creating pressure beyond mere physical space. "You've shed five of your seven scales. You've willingly accepted limitation. You're experiencing emotions—attachment, love—that your former self would have considered pathetic weakness. How is that not destruction of your original nature?"

Xiaolong's thoughts scattered like frightened birds. The Descending Dragon Path was hers alone. Her journey of discovery, her chosen path to understanding Li Feng's humanity. The idea that it originated from Tianmin's theoretical calculations—that her revolutionary transformation was actually following someone else's predetermined patterns—undermined everything she believed about her agency.

"The question of interest," Tianmin continued, ignoring her turmoil, "is why. An ancient prismatic dragon, powerful enough to reshape mountains and redirect rivers, choosing to become... less. To understand what? Mortal attachment? The fleeting emotions that humans experience as fires that burn brightly and extinguish quickly?"

The corridor's torchlight flickered, casting elongated shadows that made Zhao's human form seem increasingly unreal—a container for something cosmic.

"This one observes that love is more than fleeting emotion when experienced without the arrogance of immortality."

"Love." The word emerged from Zhao's lips with the detached curiosity of an entomologist examining an unusual specimen. "Yes, I've noted the attachment. With the water cultivator. An interesting diversion. But one must question whether it represents genuine connection or simply your nature seeking something to fill the void left by discarded scales."

"The connection was established before I began shedding scales."

"Was it?" Tianmin's voice dropped, harmonics becoming a low hum that vibrated through stone. "Or did you select your human experiment because you sensed potential for something that could make your sacrifices meaningful? Does causality work backward, with chosen outcome creating the appearance of prior inevitability?"

The philosophical trap closed around her. Tianmin wasn't simply observing—he was reconstructing her narrative, reframing her journey as calculation rather than discovery, as predetermined rather than chosen.

"You see this as an experiment." Xiaolong's spiritual pressure surged, colors manifesting in the corridor's shadows—prismatic hints of power pushing against restraint.

"All existence is an experiment. Some conducted consciously, others unconsciously. You shed your scales seeking understanding. I observe to comprehend the results. We are not so different, Guardian Elder, though you resist the comparison."

"Observation without participation is one thing. Creating the parameters of another's transformation without disclosure is manipulation."

"Did the carp require permission from the river to become a dragon? Does the flower require approval from the sun to bloom toward light?" Tianmin's human vessel stepped closer still. "I created possibilities. You chose which to explore. Your agency remains intact—though perhaps shaped by paths previously discovered rather than forged anew."

The distinction was too subtle for comfort. Her unique journey—a path of self-imposed limitation that defied draconic tradition—might not be unique at all. Might be one variant of Tianmin's theoretical explorations, another observation in his cosmic catalog.

"My purpose was to understand mortals on their terms, not as lesser beings to be studied from above."

"And have you succeeded? Or have you simply become a lesser being yourself, trading cosmic perspective for attachment to creatures that measure their lives in decades rather than eons?" Tianmin's gaze swept her, horns to robes, assessing every visible indication of her transformed state. "Five scales shed. How many before you become entirely human? Before your draconic nature is merely memory rather than essence?"

The question landed like judgment. Five scales. Solitary Supremacy, Hierarchical Value, Emotional Invulnerability, Dominion over Nature, Self-Sovereignty—each loss a step toward humanity, a sacrifice of her original nature.

"Remaining scales: Immortal Time-Seeing and Essence Sovereignty." Tianmin's human proxy named them like reading from a scroll. "The final two. Shedding Immortal Time-Seeing will trap you in linear perception. Losing Essence Sovereignty means you cannot return to your true form. Irreversible transformation. Human permanence."

Xiaolong had understood the risks theoretically. She had felt each scale's departure as profound transformation. But hearing Tianmin articulate the final steps—casting them not as philosophical exploration but as permanent loss—created doubt that budded like poisoned flowers in her spirit.

Was her path forward? Or was it suicide by gradual degrees?

"You've gained something, I suppose." Tianmin's tone shifted from academic inquiry to something almost clinical. "Attachment. Emotional volatility. The vulnerability that humans call 'love' but which looks more like dependence from my perspective. Was the exchange worth it?"

"He would say so."

"The water cultivator's opinion is relevant only to you now." Tianmin paused. "But the observation holds value. Which brings us to the present conversation."

The corridor temperature dropped. Spiritual pressure pressed against Xiaolong like descending water, not hostile yet uncompromising. The sort of pressure that forced choice without offering escape.

"You are now the Guardian Elder of Azure Waters Sect." Tianmin's human proxy stepped back, creating space that nonetheless emphasized the confrontation's intensity. "Your choices affect more than yourself. They affect humans you've grown attached to. Your sect now relies on your capability, recognizes your authority, values your presence."

"This one knew there would be responsibility involved."

"But did you understand the implications of being the only dragon attempting this path? When you succeed—becoming fully human, retaining some fraction of your original power—you create precedent. You demonstrate that cosmic beings can choose mortality without annihilation. That the boundary between immortal and human is permeable."

"And this threatens something?"

"It changes everything." Tianmin's voice carried genuine excitement for the first time—the scholar finally observing results from long-conducted experiment. "Other immortals will follow. Dragon society will face questions it has avoided for eons. The balance between realms shifts. Your personal journey becomes cosmic consequence."

"I didn't choose this to reshape dragon society."

"You chose this while existing in a society where every choice contributes to collective evolution." Tianmin's human form began to fade slightly around the edges, his control slipping as the cosmic essence pushed through the vessel's limitations. "Now my master requires your cooperation. Not for personal gain. For knowledge that may stabilize coming changes rather than chaos."

The request hung between them, inevitable as natural law.

"Knowledge I possess that he doesn't?"

"The Descending Dragon Path was theoretical until you. Your lived experience provides what my observations cannot: sensory details, emotional progressions, spiritual consequences of power compression into limited form. My master requires that knowledge."

"This one's experiences are private."

"Privacy is a luxury reserved for beings without cosmic impact." Tianmin's presence intensified, the human vessel's eyes beginning to glow with internal light. "My master offers reciprocal knowledge in exchange. Information about other dragons' reactions to your experiment. Awareness of who plots against your interests while you remain unaware. Understanding of threats that approach those you've attached yourself to."

The threat was explicit, delivered in academic language that made it more chilling than direct violence.

"You blackmail this one."

"My master catalogizes. Sometimes the most valuable observations require gentle prodding to reveal themselves." Zhao's human form steadied, the essence receding slightly. "Cooperate, and gain knowledge that protects those you now care for. Refuse, and remain ignorant as forces move against you while you focus on..."

A gesture that encompassed her—horns, robes, the compressed essence that was all she now carried. "...this."

Footsteps approached down the corridor. Elder Wei's spiritual signature moved toward them at a deliberate pace.

"Your choice, Xiaolong." Tianmin withdrew fully into Zhao's human shell, the harmonics vanishing as suddenly as they'd appeared. "I will find you tomorrow for a response. Choose wisely."

The human vessel bowed with perfect courtesy. Then turned and melted back into the corridor shadows, leaving Xiaolong alone with questions that gnawed at her foundation.

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