Tian Heng stepped into the small, familiar house, the scent of old wood and faint incense clinging to the air. This was his home, had always been, but at this moment, it felt distant, as if he were intruding in a place that no longer belonged to him.
The morning light seeped through the gaps in the wooden walls, casting long, golden streaks across the floor. His mother and younger siblings had left early, likely to sell whatever they could at the market. The silence was unsettling.
He exhaled softly, reminding himself of why he was here. Find anything useful. Anything that might help Feng Jiao Xue uncover the truth.
Tian Hao wouldn't have been careless. His older brother was ambitious, always chasing something bigger than this tiny house, bigger than the life they were given. He had left home young, eager to carve a place for himself in the palace. It had worked, somehow, against all odds, he had made it. And yet, even from a distance, he had never let go of this house.
