I. The New Master of the Altar

  The fifteenth day of the twelfth month. End of the hour of the dragon.

  The smoke had not yet fully cleared from the altar precincts. The stench of blood mingled with saltpetre, rasping the throat with each breath. Li Yan sheltered behind a collapsed pillar with the nine-year-old Prince Xie at his side, watching the chaos unfold. "Gods above," he muttered, "more crowded than a temple fair."

  Black-armoured Northern Army soldiers flooded in like ants, pinning the still-standing Western Garden troops to the ground, disarming and binding them. The black-clad assassins who had been so ferocious moments before were now dead, fled, or—for those who could not escape—pinned beneath armoured knees.

  Yuan Shao stood on the third tier of the altar, his silver armour gleaming in the early light. His hand rested on his sword hilt; his voice rang clear: "By order of the Grand General, we suppress the rebellion and protect His Majesty! Lay down your arms and you shall not be slain!"

  "By order of the Grand General?" Li Yan snorted. "He Jin's busy weeping over his son. He's in no state to give orders."

  The young prince in his arms tilted his head upward. "Commandant Yuan is lying."

  Li Yan looked down. "Oh? You can tell, Your Highness?"

  "Yes." Prince Xie nodded. "His eyes are smiling. His face is not."

  Li Yan looked more closely. The boy was right. Yuan Shao's face was set like forged iron, but his eyes glittered—the gleam of a hunter watching his prey tumble into the snare.

  "Your Highness is perceptive." Li Yan patted his shoulder. "But I wouldn't mention that to anyone."

  "I know." Prince Xie paused. "Sir... what is your name?"

  "My surname is Li. Given name, Yan." Li Yan grinned. "Your Highness may call me Old Li."

  "Li Yan..." The prince repeated it, committing the name to memory. "I, Liu Xie, shall not forget this day's life-saving grace."

  Li Yan was about to reply when He Jin's roar split the air: "Physicians! Where in damnation are the physicians!"

  He Jin cradled Prince Bian, whose mouth and nose still seeped crimson. His eyes were bloodshot. Several physicians scrambled forward on hands and knees, fumbling for pulses and needles. Empress He had collapsed in a heap, her elaborate makeup ruined by tears.

  Emperor Ling, supported by attendants, was seated on an improvised dragon throne. His complexion was the colour of gilt paper; his lips trembled, but no words emerged.

  Zhang Rang's corpse lay in a spreading pool of blood. His eyes were still open, fixed on the sky—as though he could not accept his end. Several Northern soldiers were rifling through his remains, handing over whatever they found—seals, jade pendants, letters—to Yuan Shao's subordinates.

  "The clearing begins," Li Yan murmured.

  And indeed, Yuan Shao raised his hand. A company of soldiers began herding the observing officials: "Honoured sirs, you have been alarmed. Please withdraw to the outer precincts while we continue to search for remnants of the assassins."

  The officials needed no further encouragement. They streamed outward, eager to escape this place of blood. Cui Yan moved with the crowd. She glanced back at Li Yan, forming words with her lips: Wait for me.

  Li Yan nodded.

  Prince Xie tugged at his sleeve. "Master Li... will you hand me over to Commandant Yuan?"

  Li Yan looked at him. "What does Your Highness think?"

  "I do not wish it." The prince's answer was direct. "Commandant Yuan looks at me as though I were merchandise."

  Li Yan laughed. "Your Highness has a way with words... incisive."

  But he knew Prince Xie could not remain with him. The boy was a prince of the blood, a piece on the great chessboard, contested by all factions. He, a wandering xia, could not protect him.

  As he debated, Yuan Shao approached.

  "Your Highness has suffered alarm." Yuan Shao bowed with proper deference. "Your servant has ordered a secure place prepared. May I request Your Highness to retire and rest?"

  He glanced at Li Yan. "And this brave man is..."

  "Wang Erniu, Squad Leader, Western Garden Army." Li Yan clasped his fists. "Ordered to guard His Highness."

  "Wang Erniu..." Yuan Shao's gaze swept over him, a flicker of suspicion quickly masked. "You have performed meritorious service in protecting His Highness. A generous reward shall follow. For now, please entrust His Highness to me."

  Li Yan looked at Prince Xie. The boy compressed his lips, released his grip on Li Yan's sleeve, and walked toward Yuan Shao.

  "I am obliged to Commandant Yuan." The prince's voice had recovered the composure befitting imperial blood.

  "Your servant dares not accept such words." Yuan Shao personally took the prince's hand. As he turned, he murmured to an officer beside him: "Escort this Squad Leader Wang to rest. Extend him every hospitality."

  The last four words carried an unmistakable weight.

  Li Yan was "escorted" by two Northern soldiers to a temporary tent on the eastern side of the altar. Inside, carpets were spread, a low table set, complete with hot tea and refreshments.

  "Squad Leader Wang, please wait here. The Commandant will attend to you when his duties permit." The soldiers took up positions at the entrance.

  Li Yan made himself comfortable, poured tea, and stuffed a pastry into his mouth. A morning's work had left him ravenous.

  He chewed and pondered. Yuan Shao had seized control. Zhang Rang was dead. He Jin was in disarray. Prince Bian lay grievously wounded... On the board, Yuan Shao's victory seemed complete, elegantly executed.

  Yet something gnawed at him. Some piece did not fit.

  II. A Transaction in the Imperial Tent

  The hour of the snake. The temporary imperial pavilion.

  Cui Yan sat in a guest seat at the lower end, a cup of tea cradled in her hands. The tea had long gone cold; she had not tasted it. Yuan Shao occupied the host seat, perusing a freshly delivered document.

  They were alone in the pavilion; even the attendants had been dismissed.

  "Lady Cui," Yuan Shao set down the document and raised his head. "What is your assessment of today's events?"

  "The Commandant has orchestrated the overall situation with masterful control. This humble woman can only admire." Her tone was flat.

  "Orchestrated?" Yuan Shao smiled. "Is my lady praising me, or reproaching me?"

  "I would not presume." Cui Yan set down her cup. "The Commandant today defended His Majesty, suppressed the insurrection, and cleansed the court of malign influence—three accomplishments in one. Court and country alike will acclaim your loyalty and valour."

  "And my lady?" Yuan Shao regarded her. "Does my lady also acclaim my loyalty and valour?"

  Cui Yan was silent a moment. "This humble woman wishes only to know: what does the Commandant intend to do next?"

  "Simple." Yuan Shao withdrew an object from his robe and placed it on the table—a wooden box. He opened it. Within lay half a jade bi disc, carved with the Vermilion Bird motif.

  Cui Yan's pupils contracted. This was the token of the Vermilion Bird position, which should have been in Zhao Wu's possession—seized in the ambush the previous night.

  "The evidence is in my hands." Yuan Shao spoke slowly. "Proof of Zhang Rang's treason. Proof of He Jin's dereliction. Even... proof implicating my lady's friend in these affairs. All of it, in my hands."

  "What is the Commandant trying to say?"

  "I am saying," Yuan Shao leaned forward, "that I now command the situation. This evidence may be used to indict Zhang Rang's remaining partisans, to impeach He Jin for failing in his protective duties, or it may be used... to silence certain persons forever."

  A threat. Naked and undisguised.

  Cui Yan's hand clenched within her sleeve, but her expression remained placid. "What does the Commandant seek?"

  "Cooperation." Yuan Shao said. "The Cui family are a prominent Qinghe clan, held in high esteem among the scholar-official circles. I require the Cui family's support, and I require my lady's intellect."

  "What form would this cooperation take?"

  "First: today's events, henceforth, will be reported according to a unified account. Zhang Rang conspired with Jian Shuo to assassinate the princes and effect a deposition; their plot was discovered in time by Grand General He Jin and myself, and the conspirators were executed at the altar." Yuan Shao paused. "As for the explosion, the black-clad men, and all other chaotic elements... they never occurred."

  "Second: He Jin, having suffered this shock, will become even more suspicious of the eunuchs, and also of the scholar-official clans. I shall advise him to thoroughly eradicate the eunuch faction. My lady shall build support for me among the Purist circles."

  "Third." Yuan Shao paused. "My lady's friend. He must leave Luoyang. He performed meritorious service today in protecting the prince; I can provide him with sufficient funds to depart far away and never return."

  Cui Yan listened in silence. When he finished, she asked: "And what do I receive in return?"

  "The Cui family may obtain exclusive rights to the salt and iron monopolies of three counties in Qinghe." Yuan Shao pushed a document across the table. "This is a preliminary agreement. Should our cooperation prove fruitful, more will follow."

  Salt and iron monopolies. Tangible, immense profit. Cui Yan scanned the document; the terms were staggeringly generous.

  "The Commandant is most... liberal."

  "Because my lady is worth this price." Yuan Shao regarded her. "I perceive that you are no ordinary woman. You possess ambition, capability, and scruples. Such a person is better as an ally than an enemy."

  Cui Yan set down the document. After a long deliberation, she said: "Three conditions."

  "Name them."

  "First: guarantee Li Yan's safe departure from Luoyang. No assassins dispatched in pursuit."

  "Agreed."

  "Second: the Western Garden soldiers captured today, unless clearly proven guilty of serious crimes, are not to be arbitrarily executed."

  Yuan Shao frowned. "This..."

  "The Commandant wishes to win hearts. A reputation for indiscriminate slaughter serves no such purpose." Cui Yan said. "Release the common soldiers, punish only the chief criminals. This will demonstrate your benevolence."

  Yuan Shao considered, then nodded. "Agreed."

  "Third." Cui Yan met his gaze directly. "In publicly proclaiming Zhang Rang's treason, you will not mention the matter of the princes' bloodlines. This touches upon the dignity of the imperial house; it must not be bandied about."

  Yuan Shao smiled. "My lady is most... thorough. Agreed. I had no intention of raising that subject in any case."

  "Then we have a bargain." Cui Yan took up the brush and inscribed her name upon the agreement.

  Yuan Shao watched her sign. "My lady does not ask who was responsible for the explosion?"

  Cui Yan's hand paused. "Does the Commandant know?"

  "I do not know." Yuan Shao shook his head. "But I do know that Jian Shuo pleaded illness and did not attend today. Several of his trusted subordinates were observed near the southeastern corner before the explosion. Those men... have since vanished."

  A shock ran through Cui Yan. Jian Shuo? What had he intended? To create chaos, to derail Zhang Rang's plans? Or did he harbour his own schemes?

  "My lady," Yuan Shao said meaningfully, "there are matters of which it is better not to know too much. The present arrangement satisfies all parties, does it not?"

  Cui Yan did not reply. She understood Yuan Shao's meaning: truth was irrelevant; the distribution of spoils was what mattered.

  She rose to take her leave. At the pavilion's entrance, Yuan Shao's voice followed her: "Lady Cui. Your friend... is a good man. But too naive. In this age, the naive do not live long. If you wish him well, persuade him to go."

  Cui Yan's steps faltered for an instant. She did not turn back, but pushed through the curtain and departed.

  III. Discovery Amid the Ruins

  Noon. East side of the altar.

  Li Yan could no longer sit idle in the tent. Under pretext of relieving himself, he slipped out. The guard attempted to follow; Li Yan deflected him with a few casual words: "Brother, I'm just going to take a piss. Be right back. Look at this wound—where could I possibly run?"

  He clutched his left arm, affecting a limp, and made his way toward the explosion site.

  The southeastern corner was a scene of devastation. White jade balustrades lay shattered; the ground bore a shallow crater, blackened and scarred. Several soldiers were clearing the debris, hauling away rubble and corpses.

  Li Yan drifted over, lending a hand with a chunk of stone while covertly surveying the crater. Gunpowder residue clung to the scorched earth, sharp and pungent. He scraped up a bit of the blackened soil and sniffed—military-grade thunderclap bomb powder, highly refined, unobtainable outside official arsenals.

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  "Brother," he asked a soldier nearby, "that was one hell of a blast. Many dead?"

  "Don't even mention it," the soldier sighed. "Three dead from our squad alone, two more badly wounded."

  "Where did the assassins get such powerful explosives?"

  "Who knows?" The soldier lowered his voice. "But I heard... before the explosion, some of Commander Jian's men were seen lurking around here."

  Jian Shuo? Li Yan's senses sharpened.

  He continued to help with the clearance, his eyes scanning the debris. Something caught his eye at the bottom of the crater—a glint of metal. Half a charred identity tally.

  Feigning a stumble, he let out a yelp and tumbled into the crater, palming the tally and tucking it into his sleeve.

  "Squad Leader Wang, are you all right?" The soldier hauled him up.

  "Fine, fine," Li Yan brushed himself off. "Slipped."

  He returned to his tent, closed the flap, and examined his prize. Bronze, warped by heat, but the general shape remained legible—a Western Garden Army officer's tally. A character had been partially burned away, but the upper-left corner was still recognizably the beginning stroke of Jian.

  Jian Shuo's tally? No—Jian Shuo was Senior Colonel; his tally would differ in form. This likely belonged to one of his trusted subordinates.

  Li Yan recalled Zhao Wu's dying words: "The arrow shafts bore the mark 'Yuan'." But he had carefully examined the bolts used by today's black-clad men; there were no markings. Yuan Shao was too shrewd to leave such blatant evidence.

  And the explosion? If Jian Shuo's men had set it, to what end? To sow chaos? To disrupt Zhang Rang's carefully laid plans?

  As he pondered, footsteps approached the tent.

  "Squad Leader Wang?" Cui Jun's voice.

  Li Yan hastily concealed the tally. "Here."

  Cui Jun pushed through the flap, carrying a food box. "Brought you something to eat."

  He set down the box and lowered his voice: "Lady Cui instructed me to tell you: she has reached an accord with Yuan Shao. You may depart at any time. But do not return to the Hall of Benevolent Healing. Leave the city directly."

  "And Shopkeeper Sun?"

  "Arrangements are underway. He will leave the capital no later than tomorrow." Cui Jun looked at Li Yan. "Brother Li, take my counsel. Go. The muddy waters of Luoyang—you cannot wade through them."

  Li Yan smiled bitterly. "I know. But there's something I must do first."

  "What?"

  "Jian Shuo." Li Yan said. "He did not attend today. His men may have been involved in the explosion. I need to know why."

  Cui Jun frowned. "Does it matter?"

  "Yes." Li Yan nodded. "Zhao Wu is dead. The evidence is stolen. Zhang Rang is dead. But the hand behind the curtain may still live. If I do not uncover the truth, I have failed those who died."

  "You..." Cui Jun sighed. "You are exactly as the Young Mistress said. Naive."

  "Naive, then." Li Yan grinned. "That's how I am. Once I fix on something, I don't let go."

  Cui Jun studied him for a long moment, then withdrew a pouch of coins from his robe. "This is from the Young Mistress. Enough to sustain you for half a year. She bade me tell you: only the living have a future. The dead have nothing."

  Li Yan accepted the pouch. It was heavy. He recalled the look in Cui Yan's eyes when she gave him the jade pendant, and warmth kindled in his chest.

  "Thank Lady Cui for me," he said. "Tell her—I will live."

  Cui Jun departed. Li Yan opened the food box. Within were steaming dishes and a flask of wine. He poured a cup and drank it down.

  The wine was fierce. It stung his eyes.

  IV. He Jin's Compromise

  The hour of the goat. Grand General He Jin's pavilion.

  He Jin sat slumped in his chair, his eyes bloodshot. Prince Bian had been carried to the Imperial Medical Bureau for treatment. His life was no longer in immediate danger, but the physicians said his heart meridian had been injured; henceforth, he would likely be frail and sickly.

  "Frail and sickly..." He Jin murmured. "How then can he be Emperor?"

  His fist slammed into the table. "Zhang Rang! You castrated cur! Even dead, you harm my son!"

  His adviser Chen Lin sought to calm him: "Grand General, restrain your wrath. The urgent matter now is to stabilize the situation. Yuan Shao has secured the altar and all four gates of Luoyang. We..."

  "I know!" He Jin waved impatiently. "That whelp Yuan Shao—his wings have grown. He aims to become the next Zhang Rang!"

  "Yet he is still the Grand General's subordinate," Chen Lin said. "And today, indeed, without him, the chaos would have been far worse."

  He Jin fell silent. He knew Chen Lin spoke truly. Had Yuan Shao not seized control in time, the death toll would have been incalculable. Yet the knowledge chafed—Yuan Shao was too capable. His capability felt like a threat.

  A servant announced from outside: "Commandant Yuan Shao requests an audience."

  "Admit him."

  Yuan Shao entered and knelt on one knee. "Grand General, your servant has completed preliminary accounting. Today, forty-seven assassins were slain, twenty-three captured. The Western Garden Army suffered over one hundred casualties; the Northern Army, over thirty. Zhang Rang has been executed. Pursuit of his remaining confederates continues."

  He Jin regarded him. "And Jian Shuo?"

  "Commander Jian pleaded illness and did not attend the sacrifice," Yuan Shao replied. "However, your servant has discovered that before the explosion, soldiers under Jian Shuo's command were active near the southeastern corner. All have since vanished. Your servant suspects Jian Shuo may have been complicit in the treason."

  "Suspicions?" He Jin smiled coldly. "Do you have evidence?"

  "No concrete proof as yet." Yuan Shao lowered his head. "But confidential letters between Zhang Rang and Jian Shuo were discovered in Zhang Rang's study, concerning embezzlement of military equipment and misappropriation of soldiers' pay. Your servant recommends the immediate arrest of Jian Shuo and a full investigation of the Western Garden Army."

  He Jin stared at him for a long moment. "Yuan Shao. What is it you want?"

  Yuan Shao raised his head, his expression earnest. "Your servant desires only to share His Majesty's burdens and serve the Grand General. The eunuchs have plagued our realm for generations, not a single day's ill. Today, Zhang Rang dared to attempt the murder of princes at the Winter Sacrifice; tomorrow, he might dare regicide. Your servant implores the Grand General: seize this opportunity to eradicate the eunuch faction completely and restore clarity to the court."

  The words struck deep. He Jin had long wished to purge the eunuchs, but Emperor Ling's protection had always stayed his hand. Now, with Zhang Rang's treason manifest, the moment was ripe.

  "Can you accomplish this?" He Jin asked.

  "Yes." Yuan Shao said. "If the Grand General issues the order, your servant will lead the Northern Army and, within three days, cleanse the court of eunuch partisans."

  He Jin deliberated, then nodded. "Very well. This matter I entrust to you. But remember: punish only the chief criminals. No indiscriminate slaughter."

  "Your servant shall obey."

  After Yuan Shao withdrew, Chen Lin murmured, "Grand General... do you truly trust him?"

  "I must use him whether I trust him or not." He Jin's smile was bitter. "Who else is there, now, to get things done?"

  He walked to the pavilion's entrance, gazing at the soldiers bustling without. "Yuan Shao..." he murmured. "Do not disappoint me."

  V. Farewell at Dusk

  The hour of the monkey. The evacuation zone outside the altar.

  Li Yan met Cui Yan. She had changed into plain dark blue robes, her hair simply coiled, no ornaments—resembling an ordinary daughter of a common house.

  They stood beneath a cypress tree half-shattered by the explosion. In the distance, soldiers continued their clearance work.

  "All arranged?" Li Yan asked.

  "Yes." Cui Yan nodded. "Shopkeeper Sun departs at dawn for Nanyang. Some members of the Cui clan have already begun evacuating. I go first to Qinghe."

  "Yuan Shao didn't trouble you?"

  "Not yet." She looked at him. "And you? Where will you go?"

  "I want to visit Jian Shuo's residence." Li Yan said. "There are matters I need to clarify."

  "Too dangerous." Cui Yan frowned. "Jian Shuo's security will be at its highest. To go now is suicide."

  "Then I'll wait until he's dead." Li Yan grinned. "Isn't Yuan Shao about to purge the eunuchs? Jian Shuo won't survive the night."

  Cui Yan regarded his carelessness with a sense of futility. This man—clearly brilliant, yet stubborn as granite.

  "Li Yan," she said softly. "We investigated to uncover the truth. But sometimes, the truth is less important than the living, the continuation of families, the stability of the court..."

  "And Zhao Wu?" Li Yan interrupted. "Chen Xu? Those who died today? Are their lives not important?"

  Cui Yan had no reply.

  "Lady Cui, I understand your predicament." Li Yan's voice gentled. "You have hundreds of lives in your clan to consider. You cannot afford recklessness. I am different—only myself to answer for. Some things, someone must do."

  He paused. "Truth be told, I admire you. A woman, navigating these treacherous currents with such skill. If I were in your place, I'd have been outmanoeuvred long ago."

  Cui Yan smiled wryly. "Is that praise or censure?"

  "Praise, of course." Li Yan grinned. "Genuine praise."

  They stood in silence. The sun was setting, stretching their shadows long upon the frozen ground.

  "This is yours." Li Yan produced the jade pendant.

  Cui Yan did not take it. "Keep it. I gave it to you."

  "It's too valuable."

  "Value is an attribute of the living, not of jade." Cui Yan looked at him. "Wear it. Consider it... seeing the Jianghu on my behalf."

  Li Yan clasped the pendant. "I will."

  A horn sounded in the distance—the Northern Army was beginning its withdrawal.

  "I must go," Cui Yan said. "Yuan Shao's men will soon clear this area."

  "Take care."

  "You also."

  Cui Yan turned and took several steps. Then she stopped. "Li Yan. If... if one day we find ourselves on opposing sides, what will you do?"

  Li Yan considered. Then he grinned. "Depends on the circumstances. If you want to kill me, I'll certainly run. If you want to invite me to dine, I'll certainly come."

  Cui Yan laughed despite herself, but the smile quickly faded. "I am serious."

  "So am I." Li Yan's expression grew earnest. "Lady Cui, you saved me, helped me. I will not forget. Whatever you do in the future—so long as it does not harm the innocent or transgress the natural order—I will still count you as a friend."

  Friend. Cui Yan's heart constricted slightly. Only a friend?

  But she did not voice the question. She only nodded and walked away.

  Li Yan watched her retreating figure. Abruptly, he called out: "Lady Cui! Next time we meet, I'll treat you to tea! The finest tea!"

  Cui Yan did not turn. She only raised her hand in acknowledgement.

  The setting sun stretched her shadow long, ever longer.

  VI. A Blood-Red Night

  The hour of the dog. Luoyang city.

  Yuan Shao moved swiftly. No sooner had the sun set than the Northern Army sealed every city gate, then divided into multiple columns, each racing toward the residences of the eunuchs.

  Zhang Rang's mansion was first. The main gate burst open; soldiers surged within, seizing all they encountered, slaying those who resisted. Cries of terror and screams of agony mingled in a discordant chorus. Gold and silver were carried out, piled in the courtyard like a small mountain.

  Zhao Zhong's mansion. Duan Gui's. Bi Lan's. One after another. Of the Ten Regular Attendants, Zhang Rang was already dead; the others were either captured or fled, none spared.

  Li Yan crouched on a rooftop opposite Zhang Rang's mansion, watching the carnage with cold eyes. He had changed into night attire, his face masked, only his eyes exposed.

  His original intention had been to visit Jian Shuo's residence. But that, too, was now surrounded by Northern troops. Yuan Shao, it seemed, intended a comprehensive sweep.

  "Efficient," Li Yan muttered.

  Then he saw a squad of soldiers emerge from Jian Shuo's mansion, bearing several corpses wrapped in straw matting. They tossed them onto a cart. By the torchlight, Li Yan recognized one face—Jian Shuo.

  His neck was twisted at an unnatural angle. Strangulation, clearly.

  "Died of illness?" Li Yan smiled coldly.

  He waited until the soldiers had moved on, then slipped into the mansion. It was empty now, stripped of valuables, furniture smashed—utter desolation. The study door hung open, its contents thoroughly ransacked.

  Li Yan searched quickly. Desk, bookshelves, hidden compartments... all empty. Yuan Shao's people had been thorough.

  He was about to leave when he noticed movement outside the window—rats. Plump rats, scurrying among the debris.

  They were converging on a corner of the room. A floor tile was loose.

  Li Yan crossed to it, pried the tile up. Beneath was a small cavity containing an oilcloth bundle. He unwrapped it: several letters and a thin ledger.

  The letters were correspondence between Jian Shuo and Zhang Rang. They detailed embezzlement of military equipment, misappropriation of soldiers' pay, and... "coordination arrangements" for the Winter Sacrifice. Jian Shuo had agreed to create chaos during the sacrifice, facilitating Zhang Rang's deposition scheme. His reward, should the plot succeed: enfeoffment as a marquis and command of the imperial guard.

  The ledger recorded Jian Shuo's peculations over the years—staggering sums.

  Li Yan flipped through it. One entry stopped him cold:

  "Fourteenth day of the La month: Received five hundred taels of gold from the Yuan residence. Notation: Expenses for 'fireworks' at the sacrifice."

  Fireworks? The explosion?

  His blood chilled. Yuan Shao had financed Jian Shuo—for "fireworks" at the sacrifice. Yuan Shao might have been aware of the explosion; he might even have instigated it.

  A flawless two-birds-with-one-stone. Let Jian Shuo create chaos, providing Zhang Rang an opportunity (or a pretext), then eliminate Jian Shuo afterward on charges of treason, and oblige He Jin in the bargain.

  Li Yan tucked the letters and ledger into his robe. He was about to depart when footsteps sounded outside.

  He slipped behind a bookshelf. Two Northern soldiers entered, bearing torches.

  "All done here?"

  "Nearly. The Commandant's orders: take what can be taken, burn what cannot."

  "Let's be quick. Several more residences to cover."

  They began splashing lamp oil. Li Yan took advantage of their distraction and slipped out the window.

  Behind him, a dull whump—the study was ablaze.

  Flames illuminated half the night sky. Li Yan glanced back once, then vanished into the labyrinthine alleys.

  That night, Luoyang blazed with multiple fires, and weeping filled the darkness.

  VII. Parting at Dawn

  The seventeenth day of the twelfth month. Early morning.

  Li Yan stood in the rear courtyard of the Hall of Benevolent Healing, watching Shopkeeper Sun pack. The old physician took only a small bundle—a change of clothes and some precious herbs.

  "You're really leaving?" Li Yan asked.

  "Stay and be implicated?" The shopkeeper glared. "You, boy, should also go, and quickly. Yuan Shao is busy purging the eunuchs now; he has no time for you. When he's done, he'll 'cleanse' the inconvenient witnesses."

  "I know." Li Yan helped him fasten the bundle. "What will you do in Nanyang?"

  "Find a place, open a small clinic, continue selling medicine." Shopkeeper Sun studied him. "And you? Still chasing shadows—whoever lurked behind Jian Shuo?"

  "No more." Li Yan shook his head. "The evidence is ashes. Even if I pursued, what would I find? I think I'll go to Guanzhong, visit my master."

  "That old drunkard?" The shopkeeper snorted. "If he's still alive, take him a message: the three hundred gold he owes me—time to pay up."

  Li Yan laughed. "I'll deliver it."

  Shopkeeper Sun shouldered his bundle. At the gate, he turned. "Boy, take care. This age is chaotic. Don't play the hero. Running isn't shameful."

  "I'll remember."

  The shopkeeper departed, his figure slowly dissolving into the morning mist. Li Yan stood in the empty courtyard, feeling a chill of solitude.

  He returned to his room and began his own packing. There was little to pack: a change of clothes, some odds and ends, and the jade pendant and pouch of coins from Cui Yan.

  He hung the pendant around his neck, next to his skin. It was warm.

  Then he took out the ledger he had stolen from Jian Shuo's residence, turned to the entry for "fireworks expenses," and studied it for a long time. Finally, he sighed and fed the ledger to the charcoal brazier.

  Flames leaped; paper curled, blackened, turned to ash.

  Some truths—what good was knowing them? Yuan Shao was the victor. He Jin relied on him. Cui Yan cooperated with him. The entire court acclaimed his loyalty and valour.

  What could he, a wandering xia, do with this ledger? Denounce Yuan Shao? Who would believe him? Even if they did, what would change?

  The brazier's flames dimmed and died. Li Yan stood, shouldered his bundle, took a last look at the room that had been his home these past months, and walked away.

  The city gates had just opened; many were departing. Li Yan merged with the stream and passed through unchallenged. He turned to look back. Luoyang loomed in the morning mist, its walls towering, its palaces dimly visible.

  This city where he had spent several months. This city where so much had unfolded. He was leaving.

  He did not know when he would return.

  "Farewell," he murmured, and set foot upon the post road.

  VIII. A Backward Glance at the Pavilion

  The twenty-first day of the twelfth month. Ten li from Luoyang's outer walls, at the Pavilion of Parting.

  Cui Yan's carriage halted outside the pavilion. She descended and stood within the shelter, gazing down the road whence they had come. Qingwu stood beside her, speaking softly: "Young Mistress, we should depart. If we delay further, we will not reach the relay station before nightfall."

  "A little longer," Cui Yan said.

  Whom did she await? She herself did not know. Li Yan had said he would see her off, but the appointed hour had passed.

  Perhaps he would not come. Perhaps he had already left. Perhaps...

  Hoofbeats sounded in the distance. A gaunt horse trotted toward them, its rider in plain brown short jacket, a bamboo hat obscuring his face.

  At the pavilion, the rider dismounted and removed his hat. It was Li Yan.

  "Apologies, apologies—I'm late." He grinned. "Encountered an old farmer with a broken cart wheel on the road. Helped him mend it."

  Cui Yan looked at him, the weight in her chest dissolving. "I thought you wouldn't come."

  "A promise is a promise." Li Yan tethered his horse to a pavilion pillar and walked over. "All prepared?"

  "Yes. Today I go to Qinghe." She paused. "And you? Where will you go?"

  "First to Guanzhong, to see my master. Then... wander, I suppose." Li Yan said. "The Jianghu is vast. I should see more of it."

  Silence stretched between them. The wind howled beyond the pavilion, bending the withered grasses.

  "About that..." Li Yan scratched his head. "Yuan Shao—be cautious of him. His mind runs deep."

  "I know." Cui Yan nodded. "And you—be careful. The Jianghu is no less perilous than the court."

  "True." Li Yan smiled. "But luck has always favoured me."

  Another silence. Longer this time.

  Finally, Cui Yan spoke softly. "Will you continue the investigation?"

  "Yes." Li Yan said. "But I'll pursue it differently. Not from the court—from the Jianghu. There are still six jade tokens unfound. Some of Dou Wu's former followers yet live. The truth... one day, it will come to light."

  "And if, in the end, the truth you uncover is cruel?"

  "Cruel or not, it must be known." Li Yan looked at her. "Otherwise, those who died... died for nothing."

  Cui Yan did not reply. She understood now. This was Li Yan: stubborn, naive, yet admirable.

  In the distance, a courier's bell chimed—an express messenger racing toward the city.

  "Border emergency," Li Yan said, watching the dust plume. "The Qiang tribes are rising again in Bingzhou. He Jin will be besieged on all sides; he'll need to summon help."

  "Dong Zhuo," Cui Yan said.

  "Yes. Dong Zhuo." Li Yan withdrew his gaze. "Lady Cui, this game is not yet finished. Your departure to Qinghe is not the final move."

  "I know." Cui Yan turned toward her carriage. "Li Yan, take care."

  "You also."

  Cui Yan mounted the carriage. Qingwu snapped the reins; the wheels began to turn. Cui Yan lifted the curtain and looked back.

  Li Yan still stood in the pavilion, waving. Wind caught his garments, billowing them.

  The carriage bore her further and further. Luoyang dwindled. Li Yan's figure blurred, faded—a speck against the landscape, then gone.

  Cui Yan let the curtain fall and leaned back against the carriage frame, closing her eyes.

  "Young Mistress," Qingwu whispered. "Are you weeping?"

  "No," Cui Yan said. "The wind is strong. My eyes are stinging."

  Beyond the carriage, the north wind howled, whipping clouds of dust across the plain.

  Behind her, Luoyang receded. That city of intrigue, slaughter, transaction, and farewell. That city that would soon face yet greater storms.

  And ahead—the road stretched equally unknown.