Li Wei returned to his father’s estates a victorious hero.

  The banners of House Li fluttered in the wind as he crossed the gates, soldiers at his side and treasure in his possession. Yet he knew that his deeds would not stir the heart of Li Baotian. The fat, corrupt nobleman cared nothing for dead Rakshasas or rescued villages. The lives of peasants meant little to him. Tales of bravery and honor inspired no pride in his decadent soul.

  So Li Wei spoke in the only language the man understood: flattery and greed.

  "I defeated the Rakshasa warmaster, Hidimba, in your honor, Father," he said as he bowed deeply in the court, his voice loud and clear.

  Li Baotian sat upon his throne, a decadent chair carved from fragrant sandalwood and inlaid with jade and pearl. Velvet cushions cradled his bulk, while silken robes strained around his swollen belly. Every finger glittered with gold and gemstones. At his feet knelt Priyani and Malavika, his youngest concubines. They were sisters from the far southern kingdom of Kalagarh, brown-skinned and curvaceous, barely older than Li Wei. Li Baotian kept them like fine ornaments, dressed in jewels and translucent silk that left little to the imagination.

  The older sister, Priyani, met Li Wei’s gaze and offered him a sly, playful smile. The younger sister, Malavika, lowered her eyes, her expression shy and unreadable.

  "In the Rakshasa den, we uncovered a treasure hoard," Li Wei continued. At his signal, one of the guards brought forward a smaller chest, the less valuable of the two he had taken. "I offer you gifts, Father. Gold and silver from distant kingdoms. Silks from the far west. For you alone."

  Li Baotian’s small eyes sparkled with greed. He leaned forward, hands twitching with excitement as the chest opened, revealing glittering coins, embroidered robes, and polished jade.

  "You have done well, Li Wei," he finally declared. "A true filial act, worthy of a loyal son. You have my favor."

  That single sentence sent a ripple through the court. Li Wei noticed the way his half-brothers stiffened. Most were sons of more powerful concubines or wives. And most of them now seethed in silence. They could not bear that the son of a low-ranked, long-dead concubine had received such praise.

  But Li Wei knew the truth. They were cowards. Vain and pampered, like their father. Not one of them would have taken up arms against man-eating monsters. Not one would have ridden into danger for the sake of nameless peasants. They would never design a battle plan or face a Rakshasa warmaster and survive.

  Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

  Li Wei smiled inwardly as their silence fermented into envy.

  "There are other Rakshasa clans, Father," he continued. "Each with its own warmaster, its own den, and its own hoard. Grant me more men and your permission, and I will continue the hunt. I will bring you more gold. More silks. More spoils."

  Li Baotian licked his lips, his mind already swimming with visions of future treasure.

  "Then you shall have it," he said with a wheeze. "From this day forth, I name you my general. My first sword."

  A sharp intake of breath followed his declaration.

  "But Father," came a sneer from the far end of the hall, "Li Wei is the son of a concubine of low rank. He is ranked among the lowest in the family ledger."

  It was Li Jinhai, eldest son of Li Baotian and heir to the estate. His voice carried the oily confidence and arrogance of someone who had never been denied anything. His mother, Lady Ruolan, was Li Baotian’s official wife. Once a beauty of noble birth, she had grown into a vain and bloated woman, much like her husband, though her eyes burned with more pride than passion. She was middle-aged now, and Li Baotian had long lost interest in sharing her bed. She sat beside her husband, silent but fuming.

  "As your heir, I should be the one to lead your armies," Li Jinhai continued. "I should be your first sword."

  "You are too fat to ride a horse," Li Baotian said with a snort, waving a hand dismissively, even though he himself was just as fat and cowardly as his eldest son. "Let alone lead soldiers into battle."

  The court erupted into stifled laughter. A few of the younger sons smirked openly, enjoying the heir’s embarrassment. The Li family was a nest of vipers, and each child of Li Baotian secretly wished for the downfall of those above them. Poisonings and "accidents" had already reduced the number of his acknowledged children from thirty-five to twenty-one.

  Li Wei understood what his rise meant. Every step up the family ledger would earn him new enemies. But he welcomed the challenge.

  "Li Wei has pleased me," Li Baotian declared. "My decision is final."

  Li Jinhai’s face twisted with hatred. Beside him, Lady Ruolan’s lips curled into a sneer. They would not forget this humiliation. They would not forgive it.

  They lacked both courage and cunning, but they still wielded power. And they would use it to try to drag him down.

  Li Wei studied them. He already knew the rumors about Li Jinhai. How the heir spent his nights not with concubines, but with soft-skinned eunuchs, boys castrated young to preserve their delicate beauty. It was no secret in the household that he preferred young boys over grown women. He had not managed to sire a child or heir, though no one dared speak of it openly.

  Li Wei hated him. Not just for his tastes, but for his cowardice. For his cruelty. For his laziness. And in that moment, he began to plan his downfall.

  He turned his gaze to the others. The remaining sons and daughters. Most ranked above him in the family hierarchy. But none matched his ambition. None shared his purpose.

  He would rise. He would claim influence. He would gather strength.

  His goal was not merely the favor of a corrupt nobleman. Not merely the command of an army.

  He would bring light to this broken world.

  And it would begin here, in the heart of the serpent’s nest.