For my new identity, I needed a home, a physical anchor in this city. This search led Xiao Qi and I from the boisterous main thoroughfares into the quieter, middle-class residential wards, a labyrinth of high-walled courtyard homes and narrow lanes.

  The transition from the austere opulence of the Feng estate to the vibrant, chaotic streets of Chang'an was like stepping into another world. We left the silent gardens and high walls behind. In the distance, I could hear the city watch horn being blown, but it was far and nobody around us seemed interested. We chatted as we walked, casually as these were early days yet.

  “A guide, Master?” Xiao Qi responded, looking like a new man in his new linen robes. We wore soft cloth shoes that were a reward from Lord Feng. “Someone who knows… secrets?” He still walked somewhat awkwardly, trying not to appear intentionally diminutive and uncomfortable with footwear, something I was glad he actually vocalised. In turn I was also in common linen robes, more befitting of a clerk. I wore a cloth cloak against the late autumn cold, which Xiao Qi didn't seem to care about.

  “Exactly,” I confirmed as we turned into a quaint alley network. “Someone who understands the talk of merchants, the whispers of officials, and the customs of all the social classes.”

  “Aren't you familiar with those things?” Xiao Qi asked, astonished at the idea I wouldn't be.

  "No, no… I spent too much time reading." I deflected with a standard-issue answer for a scholar.

  I noticed a sign on a wall indicating a home was available for rent and we followed the wall into a short dead end, stopping in front of a freshly lacquered door.

  As I stepped forward to inspect the door's lacquered wood, Xiao Qi continued his thought, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Master… if you truly wish to know such things, there is one place. Pingkang Li. The pleasure district.” He said the name quietly, almost reverently. “The high-ranking courtesans there… they hear the pillow-talk of generals and the drunken confessions of merchants' sons. Their business is not just of the flesh; their business is knowing everything about everyone.”

  I filed the information away but honestly I wasn't quite sure how to deal with that side of the era. “Not yet,” I murmured, my hand resting on the cool iron of the gate's knocker.

  It was then that a man's sharp cry of pain from the alleyway behind us shattered the evening peace. I turned and a heartbeat later, with a metallic clang, and a single-edged sword, a dāo to be precise, flew past the mouth of our alley, tumbling through the air to land in the dusty lane beyond.

  Before I could even pull Xiao Qi back, a figure staggered into our alley. It was a young woman, her clothes little more than filthy rags, her feet bare, cut and bruised. I noted abrasions on her wrists, neck, and ankles. Her hair was a tangled mess, but her face, smudged with grime, was etched with a mixture of profound exhaustion and fierce desperation. It took me a moment to recognize it belonged to the daughter of Inspector Chen.

  Two men I didn't recognize, in the brown uniforms of official bailiffs, stormed into the alley after her, blocking the only exit. A third followed, clutching a broken wrist, his face pale with pain. They had her, and us, cornered.

  “Don't let her escape!” one shouted, lunging at her.

  She moved with a startling, desperate grace, sidestepping his clumsy charge and delivering a precise chop to the side of his knee. The man's leg buckled with a wet, crunching sound, and he went down screaming.

  The two remaining bailiffs now advanced on her. Their leader spotted Xiao Qi and me. He was frozen, his face was ashen and presumably so was mine.

  “Hey!” the bailiff barked, pointing his blade at me. “This is official business! We are apprehending an escaped state criminal! Move along now, or you'll be arrested for interference!”

  The words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them, a dry, quiet observation born of the sudden realization we had nowhere to go. “I don't think you have this, officer.”

  The lead bailiff turned his head slowly to face me, his face darkening to a blotchy, furious red. “What did you say, you ink-stained worm?” he snarled. He took a menacing step towards me.

  As he advanced on me, and surprised I reacted on instinct, dropping into a deep, formal scholar's bow. My hands clasped together, I raised them towards my face, allowing the long, flowing sleeves of my robe to fall forward, completely obscuring my features. It was an act of pure, reflexive etiquette, a scholar's attempt to show deference and disappear.

  The bailiff halted, his sneer faltering. He saw not a threat, but a fool. A shūdāizi, a bookworm, so lost in his own world he didn't even comprehend the danger.

  “Forgive me, officer,” my muffled voice came from behind the curtain of my sleeves. “But I don't think you can afford to be distracted…”

  The warning hung in the air for less than a second. It was all the time she needed.

  The bailiff's anger diminished in dawning horror as he understood. The other shouted, “Behind you!”

  It was too late. She exploded from her coiled stance, her hand striking the back of the bailiff's neck. I felt a familiar wave of pressure. There was a sharp, sickening thud, and for an instant, his body simply went limp and crumpled into a heap on the paving stones.

  The last bailiff stared in abject terror at his two fallen comrades. His nerve shattered and he let out a small whimper before fleeing into the twilight gloom.

  I straightened from my bow. The young woman stood panting, her sharp, intelligent gaze now fixed on us. Her chest heaved with exhaustion, but her eyes… her eyes were narrowed with a cold, terrifying calculating look. I broke into a cold sweat as I understood: we were loose ends that needed to be tied up?

  I acted instantly, before that debate could conclude against us. I took a half-step forward, placing myself slightly in front of the terrified, trembling Xiao Qi. I gave her a martial salute.

  “Miss Chen, it is fate that we meet again,” I said, my voice low and urgent. She blinked at the use of her family name, the cold light in them flickering with alarm and recognition. She remembered me now.

  I dropped the formal tone and extended a hand. “Come with me” My free hand hovered by my side and I prepared myself to block an incoming strike, although I had little faith after hearing the sounds of cracking bone.

  The phrase seemed to startle her more than the violence had. She stared at me, her sharp mind trying to parse the command. She didn't take my offered hand, a gesture far too familiar, but to my relief the threat in her posture receded. After a moment of tense hesitation, she nodded.

  The distant, mournful wail of a city watch horn cut through the evening air. Someone had reported the disturbance. The bailiffs would be back, and they would not be alone.

  We had only moments to disappear.