I: Final Preparations Before Noon

  One quarter-hour before noon on the twenty-third day of the tenth month.

  Li Yan crouched in the rear courtyard of Jishi Tang, an array of oddments spread before him as if he were setting up a street stall.

  "I say, Master," he picked up a garment black as pitch that felt like fish skin. "Are you sure this can stop a blade? Feels like it couldn't even withstand a kitchen knife."

  Master Sun was pounding herbs and didn’t look up. "Wear it or don’t. It’s woven from Jiaoyu fish skin from the southern seas, mixed with gold thread. An ordinary blade will leave at most a white mark. Worth two hundred taels. The last piece the Old Drunkard brought back from Jiaozhi years ago."

  "Two hundred taels?" Li Yan’s hand trembled, nearly dropping the garment. "Maybe I should enshrine it instead of wearing it?"

  "Less talk," Master Sun set down the pestle, walked over, took the garment and gave it a shake. "Where you’re going tonight, the guards use regulation horizontal sabers—razor-sharp. No matter your skill, you can’t fight off a mob. Wearing this might let you withstand a few more cuts."

  Li Yan sighed and dutifully pulled on the garment. It was light, almost weightless against his skin, yet remarkably resilient.

  Next were climbing tools—several ropes with grappling hooks, the hooks padded with thick cork.

  "Silencing pads," Master Sun explained. "Reduce the sound of the hook hitting stone by seventy percent. But remember, only good for three uses. Once the cork wears down, it’s useless."

  "Three uses..." Li Yan hefted them. "Should be enough. I’m not tearing the place down."

  Then came several small vials and jars. Master Sun explained each: "Green bottle—knockout powder. Scatter it, effects last half an incense stick. White—hemostatic powder, upgraded version of wound medicine. Black—antidote pills, counter common poisons. All formulas improved by the Old Drunkard. Better than anything on the market."

  Li Yan stored the vials, then picked up charcoal sticks and thin paper—so thin it was almost transparent, yet tough.

  "For copying records," Master Sun said. "You can write in the dark; the marks are only visible against light. Prevents discovery if searched."

  "You’ve prepared everything so thoroughly," Li Yan smiled. "Feels less like investigating a case and more like becoming a cat burglar."

  "You think you’re much better than one?" Master Sun glared, pulling a small cloth pouch from his robe. "Take this."

  Li Yan took it, opened it. Inside was a faded protective talisman tied with a red cord, the embroidered symbols nearly illegible.

  "Left by the Old Drunkard," Master Sun said. "He claimed this thing could preserve life."

  Li Yan chuckled. "If he were that effective, why did he spend his life dodging debts?"

  "Just take it!" Master Sun waved impatiently. "Better to believe it exists."

  Li Yan hung the talisman around his neck, tucking it inside his robe. Against his skin, it felt oddly warm.

  "Alright," he stood, stretched his limbs. "Everything’s ready. Only lacking the east wind."

  "The east wind has arrived," Master Sun pointed towards the front hall. "The Cui family just sent word. Cui Jun’s preparations are complete. The fire inspection starts at the hour of You. You move at three quarters past You. The window is one quarter-hour."

  Li Yan nodded, gathering his gear. His expression turned uncharacteristically serious.

  "Master, if I don’t come back tonight—"

  "Don’t come back?" Master Sun cut him off. "If you don’t come back, I’ll go to Nanyang and find that Old Drunkard, make him compensate me for my apprentice. I still need someone to pound herbs here. He’ll owe me three years of labor."

  Li Yan laughed heartily. "Alright, with you saying that, I’ll have to come back no matter what."

  He walked to the well in the courtyard, drew a bucket of water, and washed his face. The water was cold, refreshing his spirits.

  He looked up at the sky. The noon sun of autumn was bright, warming the courtyard.

  But tonight would be a different scene entirely.

  II: Sand Table Calculations in the Cui Residence

  The same time, study of the Cui residence in Yonghe Ward.

  Cui Yan stood before a large sand table depicting a scaled-down terrain of the Western Garden Army garrison, with Armory Jia-Zi and its surrounding buildings highlighted.

  Cui Jun stood behind her, softly reporting the latest intelligence.

  "...The duty officer at Armory Jia-Zi today is Li Meng, Jian Shuo’s trusted man. Greedy, but cautious and paranoid. The rotation was originally set for three quarters past You, but he just ordered it delayed until the beginning of Xu, citing 'sudden diarrhea' among some soldiers."

  "Diarrhea?" Cui Yan’s brow furrowed slightly. "How many?"

  "About twenty, all fell ill after the midday meal," Cui Jun paused. "The medic checked, said the greens at lunch weren’t fresh. But... it’s too convenient."

  Cui Yan’s fingers tapped lightly on the edge of the sand table.

  Indeed, too convenient. Not falling ill earlier or later, but precisely on the day of the fire inspection? And precisely Armory Jia-Zi guards?

  "Two possibilities," she said slowly. "First, Li Meng has sensed something, intentionally creating chaos to see who might act. Second, a third party is secretly intervening—perhaps trying to help us, or perhaps to fish in troubled waters."

  She turned. "Cui Jun, move the fire inspection up to the hour of You sharp. The reason: 'To prevent epidemic spread, inspection must be completed and personnel withdrawn promptly.'"

  "Move it up a quarter-hour?" Cui Jun hesitated. "Will Li Meng agree?"

  "He will," Cui Yan walked to the desk, wrote a few characters on a slip of paper. "Show him this."

  Cui Jun took the slip. It read: Recent rumors of multiple epidemics have drawn the Censorate's attention. If delay in inspection leads to outbreak, may damage Colonel Jian’s reputation.

  His eyes lit up. "I understand. Li Meng fears most causing trouble for Jian Shuo."

  "Also," Cui Yan continued, "during the inspection, use the 'Four-Step Delay Method' I taught you: Check water vats, document building materials, test the gong alarms, request records. Each step must be detailed, slow, but reasonable."

  "Yes."

  "And," Cui Yan stopped him, "the two 'fire inspectors' you’re bringing are skilled men I selected from our household. They will secretly observe patrol movements and rotation details. Have them take notes. I want to see them later."

  Cui Jun nodded and was about to withdraw when Cui Yan called to him again.

  "Cui Jun."

  "Cousin?"

  "Be careful," she looked at him. "If anything feels wrong, withdraw immediately. Don’t push it."

  A warmth rose in Cui Jun’s heart. He nodded firmly. "I know."

  After he left, Cui Yan stood alone before the sand table. Her fingers traced over the model of Armory Jia-Zi, stopping at the spot marked "ventilation shaft."

  This was the infiltration point in her and Li Yan’s plan.

  But now, a sudden sense of foreboding washed over her.

  It was all too smooth.

  From obtaining the armory layout, to arranging Cui Jun’s inspection, to Li Yan’s infiltration plan—everything had proceeded too smoothly. As if an unseen hand was guiding it all.

  "Qingwu," she called softly.

  Qingwu entered from outside the door. "Young Mistress."

  "Notify the cloth shop to prepare two extraction plans. Original Plan A stands, but add Emergency Plan B—if Point A is compromised, activate Point B."

  "Where is Point B?"

  Cui Yan walked to the window, looking towards the southern city. "The alley behind the Stargazing Tower, the third sundry shop. We purchased that property half a year ago, never used it. Have them prepare change of clothes and a carriage."

  "Yes."

  After Qingwu left, Cui Yan walked to the secret chamber door and entered.

  A few oil lamps lit the chamber. Walls were hung with maps of Luoyang’s defenses and diagrams of faction relationships. She stood before them for a long time, then finally walked to an incense table in the corner and lit three sticks of incense.

  Smoke curled upward.

  She rarely prayed to gods or Buddhas. But tonight, she hoped at least to preserve that man’s life.

  That wandering swordsman who always appeared nonchalant yet dared to plunge into the dragon’s den alone.

  III: The "Performance" at the Hour of You

  Hour of You sharp, outer courtyard of Armory Jia-Zi.

  Cui Jun arrived with his "fire inspection team," right on time.

  Li Meng was indeed waiting at the gate, his expression displeased. A robust man in his forties, a scar ran from his temple to the corner of his mouth, giving him a fierce look.

  "Constable Cui," Li Meng clasped his fists, tone stiff. "What brings you here?"

  "Captain Li." Cui Jun offered an ingratiating smile, handing over the slip Cui Yan had written. "Superiors’ strict orders. Dry weather lately, all storehouses must be inspected. You know about the fire south of the market a few days ago—burned half a street. Lord Yang has ordered all official storehouses must be strictly checked."

  Li Meng glanced at the slip, his face changed slightly.

  Censorate... epidemic... Colonel Jian’s reputation...

  He gritted his teeth. "Fine. Make it quick. I’m busy here."

  "Of course, of course," Cui Jun nodded obsequiously, leading his men into the courtyard.

  First step: inspect the fire-fighting water vats.

  The courtyard held twelve large vats, each holding ten dan of water for firefighting. Cui Jun had his men take out measuring rulers, checking the water level of each.

  "Captain Li, this vat is three inches short," Cui Jun pointed at one. "Regulations require eight-tenths full. Look here..."

  Li Meng waved impatiently. "Add water! Hurry up!"

  Two soldiers fetched buckets to add water. Cui Jun waited leisurely, making small talk with Li Meng. "Captain Li, where is your hometown?"

  "Youzhou."

  "Youzhou is good, produces heroes. By the way, that scar on your face..."

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  "Leftover from the battlefield," Li Meng said gruffly.

  "A true hero!" Cui Jun gave a thumbs-up. "Must buy you a drink someday, hear your war stories."

  They dragged on like this for a quarter-hour before finishing the vats.

  Second step: record building materials.

  Cui Jun’s "fire inspectors" took out notebooks, meticulously recording: number of storehouse rooms, thickness of brick walls, girth of wooden beams, material of roof tiles... asking exhaustively detailed questions.

  Li Meng’s patience was wearing thin. "What does this have to do with fire prevention?"

  "Everything!" Cui Jun said with a grave face. "Thick brick walls have better fire resistance; thick beams burn slower. All must be recorded for the report."

  Li Meng rolled his eyes but said no more.

  Another quarter-hour passed.

  Third step: test the copper gong alarm system.

  Every corner of the armory had a copper gong to be struck in case of fire. Cui Jun demanded a live demonstration.

  "Clang! Clang! Clang!"

  The gong reverberated deafeningly. Cui Jun covered his ears, then said, "Loud enough, but placement is off. The gong on the east side is two feet off. Regulations state it should hang directly under the eaves for sound to carry far."

  Li Meng’s face darkened. "Fix it! Now!"

  Soldiers brought a ladder to adjust the gong. Cui Jun directed from below. "A bit left... more left... no, too far left, go right..."

  By the time the gong was fixed, another quarter-hour had passed.

  Fourth step: review fire drill records.

  This was the final and most time-consuming tactic.

  "Captain Li, I need to take the fire drill records from the last three months back for filing," Cui Jun said. "Regulations, no way around it."

  Li Meng was furious. "Constable Cui! Are you looking for trouble?!"

  "Wouldn’t dare, wouldn’t dare," Cui Jun kept smiling. "Truly regulations. Perhaps you could come to the office and explain to Lord Yang?"

  Mentioning Yang Biao, Li Meng backed down again. He gritted his teeth. "Fetch them!"

  The records came, a thick stack. Cui Jun flipped through them slowly, asking occasionally, "Why were three men missing from this drill?" "Who signed this vat inspection?" "This one..."

  Li Meng was fuming but had to endure it.

  And while his attention was fully on Cui Jun, the two "fire inspectors" secretly noted patrol movements, rotation times, watchtower positions, and other key information.

  Three quarters past You—Li Yan’s time to move.

  Cui Jun glanced at the sky, finally closed the record book. "All done. Thank you for your cooperation, Captain Li."

  Li Meng, relieved, practically ushered them out.

  Cui Jun stepped outside the armory gate, looked back at the towering wall.

  Cousin, that’s all I can do.

  The rest is up to you.

  IV: Shadows Beyond the Wall

  Three quarters past You, east of Armory Jia-Zi’s outer wall.

  Li Yan lay prone on the roof of a nearby house, a mint leaf between his lips, eyes fixed unblinkingly on the wall opposite.

  The wall was high, about two zhang, topped with broken porcelain shards. A watchtower stood every thirty paces, each manned.

  But Cui Yan’s diagram was precise: these two southeastern watchtowers, due to a large pagoda tree nearby, had overlapping blind spots in their sightlines. And at this hour, sentries were prone to drowsiness, their vigilance lowest.

  "Time," Li Yan spat out the mint leaf, slid down from the roof, landing silently.

  Clad in the fishskin night suit, he nearly melted into the darkness. Climbing gear on his back, various small vials and jars at his waist.

  He observed a while longer. The sentries in the towers were indeed yawning; one even leaned against a post, dozing.

  Perfect chance.

  Li Yan took out the hook with its silencing pad. He swung it three times before it caught the top of the wall—the cork pad worked, the sound almost inaudible.

  He climbed the rope, paused at the top, confirmed it was safe, then flipped over.

  His landing spot was behind a woodshed—a safe point marked on the diagram, no fixed sentry at night.

  But the moment Li Yan landed, the ground beneath his feet gave way!

  "Not good!"

  Reacting swiftly, he twisted mid-air, grabbed a nearby clothesline pole, used the momentum to swing aside, and landed on solid ground.

  Looking back, a newly dug drainage ditch, about three feet wide, now gaped where he had landed, water still inside.

  Not marked on the diagram.

  Li Yan’s heart tightened. He crouched, examining the ditch walls closely. In the moonlight, he saw dark red stains—blood. And a few scraps of deep red cloth—Western Garden Army uniform fabric.

  He dipped a finger in the blood, sniffed. The metallic scent was still fresh, not more than two hours old.

  "A fight happened here recently. Or... a silencing," Li Yan frowned.

  Something was wrong.

  But he had no time to ponder. A patrol would pass soon; he had to move.

  Following the route on the diagram, he crept along the base of the wall, using shadows for cover, moving towards the ventilation shaft.

  Every step was taken with extreme caution.

  Woodshed, kitchen, stables... buildings passed by in the dark. Li Yan moved like a night-stalking cat—light, silent, alert.

  He avoided two patrols by anticipating them. Cui Yan’s diagram was accurate, even marking patrol routes and timing.

  A quarter-hour later, he reached his destination—behind the rockery at the northwest corner of Armory Jia-Zi.

  This was the ventilation shaft location.

  V: The Secret of the Ventilation Shaft

  The rockery was large, made of Taihu stones, full of holes and crevices. One hole, sealed with an iron grate, was the ventilation shaft.

  Li Yan crouched, examining the grate closely.

  Something was off.

  The grate showed signs of recent forced entry and repair—the weld spots were fresh, gleaming differently in the moonlight. And the grate was slightly askew, as if not aligned properly when reattached.

  He pressed lower, ear to the ground, listening.

  Faint metallic scraping sounds, like cabinets opening and closing. And very soft footsteps—more than one person.

  There were people below.

  Li Yan’s mind raced: infiltrating from here as planned was high risk. Those below could be guards, or someone else. But finding another entry point took time—the chaotic window during the rotation change was only a quarter-hour, and most had already passed.

  Take the gamble.

  He took a small pebble from his robe—Master Sun’s "stone to test the path." The sound could indicate conditions below and test for traps.

  He dropped the pebble gently.

  Tap... tap... roll...

  The pebble landed, rolled a few times, stopped.

  Normal sounds. No triggered mechanisms, no shouted challenges.

  Somewhat reassured, Li Yan began prying the grate. He inserted a specially thin blade into a weld seam and gently levered—

  Click.

  The weld gave.

  Carefully, he moved the grate aside, revealing a two-foot-square opening. Darkness within, wind blowing upward, carrying smells of mildew and... a faint scent of blood.

  Blood?

  Li Yan’s heart tightened again. But he had no time to hesitate; the patrol would come soon.

  He slipped into the opening, descending the vertical ventilation shaft. Rusted iron rungs for maintenance lined the wall, but they groaned underfoot. He moved as lightly as possible, taking about half an incense stick’s time to reach the bottom.

  The bottom opened into a horizontal passage, one man high, two wide, leading directly to the basement level.

  Li Yan lit a fire striker. The weak flame barely illuminated the passage. He noticed fresh scrape marks on the inner walls, as if something large had been moved through recently.

  "Someone’s been using this passage recently," he judged. "More than once."

  The passage wasn’t long, about twenty paces. Another iron grate blocked the end, beyond which was the basement.

  Li Yan extinguished the fire striker, peered through the grate gaps.

  Outside was quiet. Eerily quiet.

  VI: The Uncanny World Below

  Beginning of Xu, Armory Jia-Zi basement level.

  Li Yan pushed open the grate, slipped out, landing soundlessly.

  He was at the junction between Sections Geng and Xin. According to the diagram, four fixed sentries should be posted at the four corners of the basement. But now, not a soul in sight.

  Only oil lamps burned on the walls, sputtering softly. Their dim, yellow light fell on rows of tall archive cabinets, casting long, distorted shadows.

  Too quiet.

  Li Yan moved along the cabinets, eyes scanning rapidly. He soon spotted anomalies: the three rows of cabinets in Section Geng showed signs of recent, extensive disturbance.

  Some cabinet doors were ajar; a few dropped scrolls lay scattered on the floor. Li Yan picked one up, skimmed quickly.

  It was military deployment records from the early years of Emperor Ling’s reign (Jianning Years 1-2), but key pages were torn out. He picked up a few more; the situation was similar—all records from those years, all missing pages.

  "Someone is destroying or altering evidence," Li Yan thought grimly.

  He continued searching. At the very bottom of Cabinet Geng-Seven, he found a peculiar iron box.

  The box was small, one foot square, entirely black, with no keyhole. Only an indented pattern on its front—a shape Li Yan knew all too well.

  It was the contour of a jade token fragment.

  He took out his four fragments, selected the one with the most fitting edge, and gently placed it into the indentation.

  A perfect fit.

  But the box didn’t open. Li Yan tried twisting the token; it didn’t budge. He tried pressing, lifting—nothing.

  "Requires all tokens? Or a specific angle?" He frowned.

  Time was critical; he couldn’t linger. Li Yan made a quick decision: he took out the thin paper and charcoal stick, rapidly rubbing to copy the box’s surface patterns and lock details. Then he took out the small vial of Revealing Reagent, applying it to the box’s surface—in case there were hidden markings.

  The reagent soaked in, but nothing appeared.

  So the box was purely a mechanical device, no hidden script layer.

  He put his things away, prepared to leave. But just then, a faint click came from the direction of Section Xin.

  Someone!

  Li Yan immediately extinguished the fire striker, hid behind a cabinet.

  Part VII: The Third Faction

  Two men in black emerged from a hidden door in Section Xin.

  Both masked, wearing ordinary night clothes, but their gait was distinctive—steps extremely light, torsos upright, the result of long training.

  They spoke in low voices, barely audible, but in the tomb-like silence of the basement, Li Yan could just make out words.

  "...burn the rest..."

  "What about the iron box?"

  "The Colonel said leave it for now. Wait until..."

  "Wait for what?"

  "After the twelfth month. Moving it now would alert them."

  "Then these..."

  "Burn. Leave no trace."

  Li Yan recognized it—one of the voices. He’d heard it in the Ghost Market warehouse. The leader under the masked man’s command—Jian Shuo’s man.

  But "the Colonel said leave it"? Jian Shuo was the Colonel. Why would his own man say "the Colonel said"?

  Unless... it wasn’t Jian Shuo?

  Li Yan held his breath. After the two left, he quietly moved to Section Xin.

  The hidden door was still slightly ajar. He pushed it open. Inside was a small room with three metal cabinets.

  The cabinet doors were open, smoke still rising—documents mostly burned. Li Yan rushed over, ignoring the heat, salvaged a few charred fragments.

  The pages were blackened, but some characters were legible:

  "...Prince of Qinghe... virtuous..."

  "...Empress Dowager Dou’s decree..."

  "...Regular Attendant Cao Jie obstructed..."

  "...Grand General enraged..."

  All fragmented phrases, but together they pointed unmistakably to that succession conspiracy.

  Li Yan quickly copied all legible characters, then shoved the fragments back into the smoldering pile—he couldn’t leave traces of his presence.

  Finished, he prepared to withdraw. But before leaving, he did two things:

  First, scattered special tracking powder beside the iron box. From Master Sun, colorless and odorless, but trackable by trained dogs, effective for three days.

  Second, on the wall near the ventilation shaft, he drew a special mark with charcoal—the emergency signal Cui Yan had taught him, meaning "Situation changed, withdraw immediately."

  Done, he crawled back into the ventilation shaft.

  But climbing in, he smelled blood—not present on the way down.

  Slowing, halfway through the passage, he found a body.

  Dressed as a Western Garden soldier, throat slit, blood not fully congealed. Dead less than half an hour.

  In the corpse’s hand was a scrap of deep red cloth, same as near the bloodstain behind the woodshed.

  Li Yan’s heart sank.

  Inside Armory Jia-Zi, besides Jian Shuo’s men, a third faction was active. And they had just killed.

  He sped up his retreat.

  Part VIII: Exposure and Flight

  Three quarters past Xu, Li Yan scaled back over the wall.

  He followed the original plan, withdrawing eastward down a narrow alley. The cloth shop extraction point was just two streets away.

  But after only a few dozen paces, he sensed something wrong.

  Too quiet. At this hour, there should still be some pedestrians, but none were about. And the houses on both sides were dark, as if cleared in advance.

  A trap?

  Li Yan slowed, hand resting on the short knife at his waist.

  Two figures appeared at the alley’s mouth ahead, dressed as commoners but standing rigidly.

  "Brother Li?" one spoke. "Miss Cui sent us to extract you."

  Li Yan approached, studying them in the moonlight. The speaker’s eyes shifted nervously; his right hand unconsciously rested at his waist—where something bulky was concealed, likely a weapon.

  "Oh?" Li Yan smiled. "Miss Cui is thoughtful. How is she?"

  "She’s well, well," the man nodded. "Come quickly with us. Pursuers will be here soon."

  Li Yan took two more steps, then suddenly struck!

  Swift as lightning, one hand seized the man’s wrist, the other already drew the short knife from the man’s waist. The blade flashed, pressed against the man’s throat.

  "Not very professional, hiding a Western Garden waist token like that," Li Yan sneered, pulling a bronze token from the man’s robe—standard Western Garden Army issue.

  The other man tried to flee; Li Yan kicked him down, subdued him.

  "Talk. Who sent you?" Li Yan pressed the knife tip.

  "I... I don’t know..." the man trembled. "Captain Li told us to wait here, said if anyone came out of Armory Jia-Zi, to..."

  Before he finished, rapid footsteps and shouts came from down the alley:

  "Assassin! Seal all exits!"

  Torchlight flooded the alley mouth.

  Li Yan acted instantly, knocking both men unconscious, then turned and ran.

  Extraction Point A in the original plan was compromised. He had to switch to Emergency Plan B.

  But Plan B’s route... he had to recall it.

  Cui Yan’s diagram had marked an emergency route: from this alley south, through three intersections, left into a dead-end, scale a wall, then...

  He ran, trying to remember. Pursuers closed in behind, torchlight illuminating the alley brightly.

  "There! After him!"

  The whistle of arrows. Li Yan sidestepped; an arrow thudded into the wall beside him, fletching still quivering.

  Close.

  He sped up, twisting through alleys, trying to lose his pursuers. But the Western Garden men knew this area too well, splitting up to flank him, gradually encircling him.

  Li Yan was forced into a narrow lane, pursuers at both ends.

  "Nowhere to run now!" The leader, a man with a thick beard, brandished his saber, sneering as he advanced.

  Li Yan backed against the wall, short knife in hand, eyes calm.

  Looks like I’ll have to fight my way out.

  But just then, a wooden door beside him swung open. A hand reached out, yanked him inside!

  The door slammed shut.

  Outside came the cursing of pursuers and the sound of bodies thudding against the door.

  Li Yan steadied himself, looked at his rescuer—a thin, elderly man in patched cloth clothes, holding an oil lamp.

  "Follow me," the old man whispered, turning into the house.

  Li Yan hesitated a moment, then followed.

  The old man led him through a main room, down into a cellar. The cellar was cluttered, but a hidden door stood in a corner. The old man pushed it open, revealing a tunnel.

  "This leads outside the city," the old man said. "Arranged by Miss Cui."

  Li Yan was stunned. "You are..."

  "Old Liu. Served the Cui family thirty years," the old man grinned, showing missing front teeth. "Go now. They won’t break the door, but they’ll climb the wall."

  The tunnel was narrow, barely wide enough for one person. Li Yan crawled in, looked back once.

  The old man stood at the cellar entrance, gave a small wave, then closed the hidden door.

  In the darkness, Li Yan took a deep breath and began crawling forward.

  He didn’t know where this tunnel led, or what awaited outside.

  But he knew tonight’s operation was completely blown.

  And that Miss Cui waiting for news at the Stargazing Tower must be frantic.

  He had to survive.

  At the very least, he had to tell her what he’d found in Armory Jia-Zi.

  The tunnel seemed endless.

  Meanwhile, in the secret chamber of the Stargazing Tower, Cui Yan had just received an urgent report from her watcher:

  "Li Meng has dispatched two squads of his personal guards, cordoning off the cloth shop area. House-to-house searches underway."

  She pushed open a window, looked towards Armory Jia-Zi. In the night, torchlight flickered like a winding fire dragon weaving through Luoyang’s streets and alleys.

  She clutched the orchid seal in her hand, nails almost piercing her palm.

  Outside, the autumn wind blew, carrying the deep chill of late fall.

  "Li Yan," she whispered to herself, the words almost inaudible. "You had better come out alive..."

  The night was long.

  The flight had only just begun.

  And the secrets within Armory Jia-Zi—the phrases on those charred pages, the unopenable iron box, the fresh corpse...

  All clues pointed to a deeper maelstrom.

  One that could swallow everyone.