Kurogane Ikki: "Another one!"

The wooden tub steamed gently, filling the modest bathing chamber with the scent of warm herbal infusions. The flickering glow of a single oil lamp danced across the water's surface, illuminating the round-faced infant within.

The child—a boy found in the forest, nameless yet brimming with vitality—sat in the water with unnatural stillness, his dark, curious eyes shifting between the two women attending to him. Mei Lian, a woman of quiet grace and conviction, gently cupped water in her hands and ran it over his small shoulders, while beside her, Mei Shi, the old, sharp-tongued maid, scrubbed him with rough efficiency, her gruff demeanor barely masking a rare hint of amusement.

On the porch just outside, Guo Ren watched in contemplative silence, his arms folded as he sat with the weight of a man who had seen much and trusted little. His gaze lingered on the boy—not with warmth, nor with rejection, but with the detached curiosity of a scholar faced with a question he could not yet answer.

"A Quiet One, This Child" he calmly remarked.

Mei Shi snorted as she worked, rubbing a soft cloth against the boy's tiny arms, the water beading over his smooth skin.

"Hmph. Most babes would wail at this."

The infant, however, did not. He merely blinked up at her, his expression one of rapt fascination, as if every movement, every sound, was something to be observed and understood.

Mei Lian's lips curled into a small, knowing smile.

"Perhaps he is simply at peace."

At that moment, ikki's rosy cheeks lifted, and—to their surprise—a soft giggle bubbled from his lips.

Mei Shi froze, her usual sharp eyes widening.

"…Bold little thing," she muttered, though there was no bite in her words.

The child then did something even stranger. He lifted his tiny hands, reaching for Mei Shi's wrist. She let him grasp her fingers, and as she wiggled them teasingly, the boy let out another bright, pearly smile—so full of unrestrained joy that for a moment, even Mei Shi forgot herself.

Mei Lian, watching the exchange, exhaled softly.

"He was given to us," she murmured, her tone reverent. "A gift from the Three Pure Ones."

Guo Ren, still sitting rigidly on the porch, scoffed under his breath but said nothing. He had heard similar words before, from priests and monks who spoke in riddles and saw signs in the turning of the wind.

And yet…

His keen scholar's gaze could not ignore how strangely aware this child was.

"A Parrot in the Making?"

"Repeat after me," Mei Lian said suddenly, on a whim. She ran a gentle hand over his damp forehead and pointed at her lips and whispered softly,

"Water."

The boy's small lips pursed, his tongue clumsily mimicking the sounds, before he chirped,

"Wa… ter."

Mei Shi stiffened, her eyes snapping to Mei Lian, who inhaled sharply.

Guo Ren uncrossed his arms, sitting forward ever so slightly.

"That's just chance," the old maid muttered, though her grip on the cloth had tightened slightly.

But then Mei Lian tried again.

"Sky."

The child blinked. Thought for a moment. Then said, clearer this time,

"S'kai."

This time, even Guo Ren shifted uncomfortably.

'A Scholar's Test' his inner thought appeared.

The weight of silence pressed into the room. Then, suddenly, Guo Ren spoke.

His voice, calm yet commanding, cut through the air.

"Repeat after me."

The boy turned his full attention toward him.

Guo Ren leaned forward, tapping his fingers against the wooden beam of the porch as he enunciated,

"Mountains rise, rivers fall."

The child, for a brief moment, furrowed his brow—a comically serious expression for his round face. But then, after only a few seconds, he parroted back,

"Moun… rises, r'rivers fahl."

Mei Shi's breath hitched, and Mei Lian felt her chest tighten.

Guo Ren—who had prided himself on logic and reason, who had never entertained the superstitions of fate—laughed.

A loud, genuine burst of laughter.

"Ha!" His voice rang out, deep and rich, shaking the still air of the bathhouse. It was not the refined chuckle of a reserved scholar, nor the polite mirth of a man bound by etiquette, but the unrestrained joy of someone who had just stumbled upon a treasure he never knew he wanted.

He stood up, walking toward the bewildered child, shaking his head in amused disbelief.

"A mere babe, yet he already speaks like a student of the classics."

His steps were firm, eager—his usual composed demeanor slipping away as excitement surged through him. Mei Shi and Mei Lian exchanged glances, taken aback by this rare display of enthusiasm.

And then, before even he could stop himself, Guo Ren reached down—lifting the child effortlessly from the bath, pressing his warm, broad palm against the boy's small back.

Ikki blinked up at him, his black eyes wide with innocent curiosity. His tiny hands instinctively reached for the scholar's robes, fingers curling into the fabric with surprising strength.

Guo Ren's grin widened as the infant latched onto him, gripping as if he had always belonged there. There was no hesitation, no resistance—only an effortless trust.

"Hah! What a grip!" Guo Ren boomed, bouncing Ikki slightly in his hold. "Like a monkey clinging to a branch!"

Ikki let out a happy gurgle, his tiny mouth parting in a toothless grin. His chubby fingers tightened around the scholar's sleeve, as though he had already decided that this man belonged to him now.

Guo Ren laughed again, a deep, satisfied sound. He turned toward Mei Lian, his expression alight with something dangerously close to pride.

"There is something to him, Lian. Something remarkable."

Mei Lian, still watching the two with warm amusement, exhaled softly. "He is but a child, Ren."

"A child, yes," Guo Ren agreed, but his voice was brimming with conviction. He looked down at the small bundle in his arms, eyes filled with something fierce and triumphant. "But not an ordinary one."

He traced a finger lightly over Ikki's round cheek, marveling at the sharp, knowing gaze in those young eyes. Most infants blinked aimlessly, their focus hazy, their expressions muddled with pure instinct.

But this child observed.

Guo Ren had spent his life among scholars, officials, and the finest minds of the empire—yet even among them, he had rarely seen such raw, unfiltered awareness.

This was not a dull child.

And to Guo Ren, there was no greater sin than dullness.

"A mind that absorbs swiftly, hands that do not let go—hah! This one is a serpent through and through!" He chuckled, turning to Mei Shi, who was staring at him with raised eyebrows. "Even you cannot deny it, old woman."

Mei Shi huffed, wiping her wet hands on her apron. "He's quick, I'll give him that. But let's see if that clever tongue of his still works when he's hungry in the middle of the night."

"Hah! Let him cry! Even the greatest minds needed to be fed as infants!" Guo Ren declared, giving the baby a playful shake. Ikki squealed, delighted by the motion.

Mei Lian folded her arms, tilting her head. "So, you have already decided, then?"

Guo Ren met her gaze, unwavering. "What fool would cast away a jade when it has fallen into his hands?" He scoffed. "To neglect such a gift would be an insult to the heavens themselves."

Mei Lian's lips twitched. "You speak as though you were already his grandfather."

Guo Ren let out a dramatic sigh, pressing a hand against his chest. "What choice do I have? Such brilliance deserves guidance! And who better to teach him than me?"

Mei Shi let out a loud snort. "Hah! And there it is—your arrogance rears its ugly head!"

"Arrogance? No, no, Mei Shi. Confidence!" Guo Ren smirked. He lifted Ikki slightly, holding him as if presenting him to the heavens themselves. "This child shall not be left to rot in obscurity. Under my guidance, he shall be raised with the wisdom of sages, the cunning of kings!"

Ikki, not quite understanding the grandeur of the moment, clapped his hands excitedly, mirroring Guo Ren's booming energy.

Mei Lian rolled her eyes. "And yet, only moments ago, you were groaning about being too old to raise another child."

"Ah, but that was before I knew what kind of child he was!" Guo Ren shot back, grinning. "If he had been slow-witted, dull-eyed, and easily distracted, I would have left him with you and Mei Shi while I went back to my books!"

Mei Shi smacked him lightly on the shoulder. "Tch. You've always been a snob."

"And you've always been a nag, but the gods have seen fit to keep you in my life regardless," Guo Ren quipped, unfazed.

Mei Lian shook her head, though her expression was fond. "So, we are keeping him, then?"

"Keeping him?" Guo Ren echoed, raising a brow. "Mei Lian, my dear, we are not merely keeping him. We are raising a prodigy."

Ikki, seemingly satisfied with his new grandfather's enthusiasm, nuzzled against Guo Ren's robes, his tiny body warm and trusting.

For a moment, the scholar—so used to the cold detachment of logic—felt something else.

Something warm.

Something unfamiliar.

Something dangerous.

He looked down at the child who had, within hours, shattered the careful order of his life.

And for the first time, Guo Ren accepted it without resistance.

By the tub, Mei Lian and Mei Shi finished rinsing the wooden basin, their faces still touched with disbelief. The warmth of the herbal-infused bath had long faded, but the ripples in their thoughts remained. The child—their child now—had shattered every expectation they had for a mere babe.

Mei Shi let out a long breath, wringing out the cloth in her hands before slapping it over the rim of the tub. Her sharp eyes flicked between the little boy, who was now comfortably resting in Guo Ren's arms, and the scholar himself, whose face had settled into a look of intense contemplation.

She snorted. "How old do you think he is?"

Guo Ren's fingers unconsciously traced the small curve of Ikki's wrist, testing the subtle firmness of his bones, the quiet strength hidden in such a tiny frame. The boy clung to him with an ease that felt both natural and unnatural—as if he had known how to hold on long before his body had even learned to stand.

Mei Lian, shaking off her daze, wiped her hands against her robes and turned toward Guo Ren. There was no doubt in her mind that he was already forming conclusions.

"We should decide on his birth year," she said, her voice steady but warm.

Guo Ren hummed in agreement, shifting Ikki slightly in his arms. He studied the boy with the same meticulous care he applied to his texts, his gaze sweeping over every small detail.

"He cannot be more than two years old," he said finally, the certainty in his voice absolute. "His grip is strong, his back straight—he holds himself well. An infant would not have such coordination."

Mei Shi scoffed, tossing a towel over her shoulder. "Hmph. And what of his speech, scholar? A two-year-old should barely be forming words, yet this one mimics them as though he were four."

Guo Ren's brow twitched. The old maid had a point.

"An unusual child, yes, but not impossibly so," he countered. "Some children—particularly those with a strong lineage—begin speaking early."

He adjusted Ikki's small hand, pressing his thumb against the boy's palm. The child's tiny fingers instinctively clenched in response—strong, determined, quick to react. His grip was too refined, too precise for his supposed age.

"His bones have hardened past the stage of an infant, yet he lacks the full coordination of a three-year-old," he continued, more to himself now. "His muscle development suggests he has been walking for some time, but not long enough to be fully stable."

Mei Lian watched him carefully, knowing full well that once Guo Ren entered his analytical mode, it was best to let him run his course.

"He has all his baby teeth, though none have begun loosening—suggesting he has not yet reached the third year. His reactions are too quick for a babe but too unrefined for an older child. If I were to estimate…"

He finally looked up, eyes sharp.

"I would say he is around two years old, perhaps younger."

Mei Shi let out a low whistle, shaking her head. "Hah! Only a scholar would go around prodding a baby like a livestock appraiser."

Guo Ren ignored her completely.

Mei Lian, however, frowned slightly, her fingers brushing against Ikki's soft black hair.

"And yet," she murmured, voice thoughtful, "he speaks so easily. He mimics so quickly."

Guo Ren exhaled slowly, his mind a tangled web of reason and contradictions. A prodigy, perhaps.

A once-in-a-lifetime mind. A rarity. A treasure.

He had no way of knowing just how wrong his deduction was—

that Ikki's rapid growth was not simply talent or genetics, but the result of something far beyond natural comprehension.

That this child, who now rested so calmly in his arms, was not bound by the same limitations as others.

"A Child of the Snake"

Mei Lian, letting the scholar's logic settle, glanced at the tub where the warm water still rippled gently.

"The year of his birth," she said finally. "He was born in the Year of the Snake."

Guo Ren stilled, his lips pressing into a thin line, while Mei Shi let out a knowing grunt.

"A Snake, hm?" the old maid muttered. "Hah! Explains a lot."

"Snakes Make for Strange Men"

Mei Lian gave a small, soft laugh, her eyes twinkling with memory.

"I once knew a woman—Madam Xu of the Plum Court. She was born in the Year of the Snake, and she was the shrewdest noblewoman I ever met."

Guo Ren raised an eyebrow. "Ah, the one who managed to outmaneuver three entire households and claim her late husband's inheritance?"

Mei Lian smiled knowingly. "The very same."

"She was clever, yes, but also patient," she continued. "She never spoke when she didn't have to, and when she did, every word carried weight. She could wait years to take revenge, decades to see her plans bear fruit."

Guo Ren chuckled, shifting Ikki's weight. "And yet, you despised her."

Mei Lian sniffed. "I respected her. There is a difference."

Mei Shi grinned, watching their exchange. "Hah! That's nothing. You should have met General Xie Fang."

Guo Ren groaned aloud, already bracing himself.

"Ah, yes. The infamous butcher."

Mei Shi snorted. "Call him what you will, but the man never lost a battle. He fought without hesitation, waited until his enemies thought him weak before striking like a viper. Cunning, relentless, merciless—that was the way of the Snake."

Guo Ren rolled his eyes. "Yes, and he was eventually assassinated in his own camp by a concubine."

Mei Shi waved a hand dismissively. "Hah! No one remembers the way a man dies—only what he achieves."

Mei Lian arched an eyebrow, turning back to Guo Ren.

"And what of you, dear husband?" she teased. "What scholar of the Snake year do you hold in esteem?"

Guo Ren smirked. "Ah, there is only one name worthy of discussion—Zhang Liang."

Mei Shi snorted again, while Mei Lian gave a half-smile.

"Of course," she muttered.

Guo Ren ignored their exasperated looks and continued, "Zhang Liang was no mere strategist—he shaped an empire. A Snake's greatest strength is their mind, and Zhang Liang outwitted generals, kings, and warlords without ever lifting a blade."

Mei Shi huffed, crossing her arms.

Guo Ren chuckled, bouncing Ikki slightly in his arms.

"Well, then," he said, tilting his head down toward the child, "which path will you take, little one?"

Ikki simply giggled, his small fingers tugging at Guo Ren's sleeve.

Mei Lian watched the interaction with soft warmth, her earlier skepticism fading.

Her heart swelled with something she could not name.

Motherly instinct? Faith? Hope?

Perhaps… all of them.

"A Snake's fate is their own," she murmured. "They are not led by others—they choose their path."

Guo Ren nodded slightly, a faint smile playing at the corner of his lips.

"Hm. Then let us see what kind of man this child will become."

Mei Shi, still shocked, reached out and pinched the boy's chubby cheek with a gruff mutter.

"Hmph. If he's a snake, let's hope he doesn't bite."

Ikki, in childish protest, pouted deeply, his small face flushing red.

And just like that, the room filled with laughter.

A household once cold and weary found itself, for the first time in years, alive again.