I. A Review by Morning Light

  The twenty-fourth day of the ninth month, mid-mao hour.

  Cui Yan awoke half a watch earlier than usual.

  Wrapping a robe around herself, she rose and walked to the window. The sky was still a murky grey. In the courtyard, the silhouette of the locust tree was indistinct, like a splash of ink on blank paper. In the distance came the faint, lingering sound of the night watch drum—the fifth watch. Luoyang still slept.

  But Cui Yan could not.

  The peril of that night in the Ghost Market, those masked men wielding military crossbows, the wandering knight surnamed Li who had appeared so abruptly and vanished just as mysteriously... All the scenes replayed in her mind on a ceaseless loop, like an unfinished play.

  "Qingwu," she called softly.

  A rustling sound came from the outer chamber. Qingwu entered, rubbing her eyes. "Young Mistress, you're awake? It's not yet the chen hour..."

  "Fetch Uncle Fu. Also, ask Master Zhao and Master Chen to come to the study." Cui Yan began her morning ablutions. "Quickly."

  Seeing her expression, Qingwu knew it was urgent and hurried off to comply.

  At the beginning of the chen hour, the study.

  Cui Fu stood to the left. Two middle-aged scholars sat before the desk. Master Zhao, named Zhao Kuo, was in his forties, a former legal officer from Qinghe Commandery, well-versed in law and criminal investigation. Master Chen, named Chen Ping, around thirty-five or thirty-six, had once served as a chief clerk in the office of the Inspector of Ji Province, skilled in documents and confidential matters. These two were advisors cultivated by the main Cui family, accompanying Cui Yan to the capital to assist her.

  Cui Yan had changed into a moon-white shenyi robe, her hair simply tied up, face free of powder or rouge. She sat behind her desk, several sheets of paper spread before her, densely covered in writing.

  "Last night's events, you are all aware," she began without preamble. "I wish to hear your thoughts."

  Zhao Kuo spoke first. "The attack on the young mistress presents several oddities. First, the assailants used palace-issue military crossbows but deliberately filed off the serial numbers. This suggests they sought to intimidate yet feared being traced to the source. Second, five men surrounded us; they could have pressed the attack, yet insisted on taking you 'alive.' This implies the mastermind behind them wants something from you, young mistress. Third, Grey Pigeon was killed before our appointed meeting time. The speed of the information leak indicates our opponent has planted eyes and ears in the Ghost Market, and of no low rank."

  Chen Ping added, "There is also that wandering knight who appeared so suddenly. His fighting style was peculiar, his familiarity with palace artifacts notable, and his timing too fortuitous. Could it be a ploy by our enemies, staging a dramatic rescue?"

  Cui Fu shook his head. "This old servant investigated afterward. That wanderer is named Li, single personal name Yan. He has been active near the Old Copper Shop in the southwest corner of the Ghost Market these past two days. And the owner of that shop, Shopkeeper Hu, was found dead in his shop this morning, killed with a standard-issue dagger. If he were one of their men, why investigate the Old Copper Shop? Why would his movements coincide with Shopkeeper Hu's death?"

  Cui Yan's fingers tapped lightly on the desk.

  "You all speak sense," she said slowly. "But I am more concerned with another matter: What is Li Yan investigating? Why was Shopkeeper Hu killed? Are these two matters, and our attack, rooted in the same cause?"

  Silence settled in the study for a moment.

  Zhao Kuo mused, "Young mistress, you mean..."

  "Look." Cui Yan pushed three sheets of paper forward on the desk. "This is Uncle Fu's summary of the floating corpse case: three months, over twenty bodies, mostly able-bodied men, bearing old wounds, personal effects searched and taken."

  "This sheet holds black market rumors: someone is paying exorbitant prices for 'military relics over six years old,' specifically requesting jade pendants, fragments of command tokens."

  "This details our attack: the opponents used military crossbows, acted with military discipline, had a clear target."

  She looked up, her gaze cool and analytical. "String these together. What does it resemble?"

  Chen Ping drew a sharp breath. "It resembles... someone systematically eliminating Dou Wu's former subordinates, collecting relics from that time. And we, by chance investigating the eunuchs' peripheral networks, touched a sensitive nerve."

  "More than that." Cui Yan stood and walked to the window. "If it were merely clearing out remnants, why such a massive operation? Why cover up even the floating corpse case? Why plant informants in the Ghost Market, even kill an old intelligence broker like Grey Pigeon?"

  She turned, enunciating each word clearly. "What they are searching for is important. So important not a whisper can be allowed to escape. So important... it may relate to the very balance of power in the court."

  Outside the window, the sky brightened. The first ray of morning light entered the study.

  Cui Yan's face was half in light, half in shadow.

  II. A Council to Assess Li Yan's Worth

  Cui Fu promptly presented new intelligence.

  "Young mistress, this is the preliminary investigation into Li Yan." He placed a sheet of paper on the desk. "Guanzhong accent, approximately twenty-three or twenty-four years old. Knowledgeable in medicine—the salve he applied to the wounded guard's injury was a first-rate golden wound formula. Knowledgeable in forensics—his methods for examining the corpse and the scene were professional, unlike an ordinary vigilante. His fighting style... none of the guards had seen its like, but it was highly practical, targeting joints and pressure points."

  Zhao Kuo picked up the paper for a closer look. "Guanzhong... medicine and forensics... surname Li... Could he be from a collateral branch of the Fufeng Li clan?"

  "The Fufeng Li produce many generals, but some of their scions study diverse arts," Chen Ping analyzed. "However, if he truly were a scion of a great family, why pose as a wandering vigilante to investigate? Wouldn't mobilizing his family's resources be faster?"

  Cui Yan asked, "Have you clarified his relationship with the Hall of Benevolent Healing?"

  "We have," Cui Fu said. "Shopkeeper Sun of the Hall of Benevolent Healing runs a Luoyang establishment of long standing, with a clean background, but has an odd quirk—he often takes in people of unclear origins for temporary stays. Li Yan began frequenting the Hall the day before yesterday. Shopkeeper Sun's attitude towards him is... particular. Not like an ordinary customer, more like an old acquaintance."

  "Particular?"

  "Our informant says Shopkeeper Sun personally prepared Li Yan's medicine and closed the shop to talk with him in the back hall for half a watch. Such treatment is not given to ordinary patrons."

  Cui Yan seemed lost in thought.

  At that moment, Zhao Kuo suddenly spoke. "Young mistress, this case Li Yan is investigating might be of great use to us."

  "Oh? Explain."

  "Consider this. The Dou Wu affair is a six-year-old case, yet someone is still systematically eliminating remnants and collecting tokens. This means the matter is far from closed." A shrewd light gleamed in Zhao Kuo's eyes. "And the mastermind behind this is most likely a palace faction—perhaps even the Ten Regular Attendants themselves. If we could obtain solid evidence..."

  He left the sentence unfinished, but the implication was clear.

  Chen Ping continued, "With evidence, we gain three major advantages: first, we can strike at the eunuchs, building prestige among the upright faction. Second, we can forge connections with those court officials who had ties to Dou Wu and still hold real power today. Third, we can find an excellent entry point for our family's maneuvers here in Luoyang."

  Cui Yan smiled.

  It was her first smile of the day, faint, like thin ice in early winter.

  "You two gentlemen see clearly." She settled back into her chair behind the desk. "This Li Yan, and the case he investigates, are indeed of immense value. But what we must do is not investigate ourselves—that would be too conspicuous, too risky."

  "What then is the young mistress's intention?"

  "Borrow strength." Cui Yan uttered the two words. "Borrow the strength of the upright faction, borrow the strength of the court, borrow the turbulence this very case will stir. To deliver our man to the position he needs to occupy."

  She spread a fresh sheet of paper, dipped her brush in ink.

  The tip hovered over the paper for a moment, then descended to write the first character: Lu.

  III. The First Stratagem: Borrowing the East Wind of the Upright Faction

  Mid-si hour, Cui Fu slipped quietly out of the Cui residence through the rear gate.

  He had changed into the silk robes of an ordinary merchant, donned a wide-brimmed hat. Tucked inside his robe were two letters. One was an anonymous letter, written on the coarse paper common in the markets, the handwriting crooked, as if penned by someone of little education. The other was encased in an elegant wooden box, written on fine Caihou paper.

  The contents of both letters had been meticulously weighed by Cui Yan.

  The anonymous letter was for Imperial Secretary Lu Zhi. Using the vernacular of the streets, Cui Yan described the "Old Copper Shop bloodshed":

  "Old Hu the shopkeeper died a terrible death, a dagger of official make stuck in his heart, his shop turned upside down as if searching for something. Folks in the neighborhood all say Old Hu handled some broken jade pieces lately, said they were tokens from 'an old general's former troops,' worth a fortune. These past few days, lots of unfamiliar faces have been lurking near the shop..."

  The letter did not mention Dou Wu by name, but the phrase "old general's former troops" was enough to lead Lu Zhi's thoughts to the six-year-old case.

  The other letter was for Xu You. Using the pretext of "gaining much insight from your guidance at the recent poetry gathering," Cui Yan included a set of rubbings from pre-Han bamboo slips. But at the very end of the letter, as if in passing, she added a single line:

  "Incidentally, on my return from antique shopping the other day, I chanced upon a stray crossbow bolt in the market. Upon inspection, it bore the secret mark of the 'Directorate of Imperial Manufactories.' For palace weapons to drift into the common populace is surely an inauspicious sign. A wise man such as yourself might perhaps grasp its deeper meaning?"

  Lightly sketched, a mere hint.

  Cui Fu first went to a teahouse in the western city, handing the anonymous letter to an old blind street singer—a place frequented by procurement servants from the Lu household. The old blind man accepted the coin, tucked the letter into the soundbox of his erhu, and continued his raspy singing.

  Next, Cui Fu went to a bookshop on the street behind the Yuan residence. The shopkeeper was a fellow townsman of Xu You's and often handled correspondence for him. Cui Fu handed over the wooden box, adding an extra two taels of silver as a "token of trouble."

  "Ensure this is delivered into Master Xu's own hands," he instructed.

  The shopkeeper bowed repeatedly. "Rest assured, Master Xu visits every three days. It will reach him tomorrow."

  Having accomplished this, Cui Fu took a wide detour, confirming he was not followed, before returning to the Cui residence.

  In the study, Cui Yan listened to Chen Ping's report on the structure of the Metropolitan Governor's office.

  "...The Chief of Theft Suppression holds a rank of three hundred shi, responsible for the apprehension of thieves and investigation of criminal cases within Luoyang city and its immediate outskirts. The incumbent is surnamed Wang, fifty-eight years old, childless, his elderly wife often ill. He has petitioned to resign three times, but each was suppressed." Chen Ping stated. "Though the rank is not high, its practical authority is considerable. It can directly command the three shifts of constables and access all case files."

  Cui Yan asked, "If this position becomes vacant, who would fill it?"

  "By convention, it is mostly recommended by the Metropolitan Governor and approved by the Imperial Secretariat." Zhao Kuo interjected. "The current Metropolitan Governor, Yang Biao, is of the Hongnong Yang clan, related by marriage to the Yuans, considered part of the upright faction. But he is a cautious man, unwilling to offend the eunuchs. Therefore, his choice for Chief of Theft Suppression will be carefully weighed."

  "If we want our man in that position," Cui Yan looked at them, "what steps are needed?"

  Zhao Kuo and Chen Ping exchanged a glance.

  "Three steps." Zhao Kuo held up three fingers. "First, he must have a noteworthy achievement to his name—ideally solving a case of some significance. Second, we must get through to the Chief Clerk or the Officer of Merit in the Metropolitan Governor's office, have them put in a good word with Yang Biao. Third, we need the right timing—for instance, when there is pressure from the court to strengthen public security."

  Cui Yan smiled. "The first step, we can manufacture. The second step, money can solve. The third step..."

  She looked out the window, where pigeons flew towards the direction of the Imperial City.

  "Secretary Lu and Master Xu will help us create that timing."

  IV. The Second Stratagem: Placing a Living Piece

  Shortly after noon, a young man was led into a side hall of the Cui residence.

  He was around twenty-five or twenty-six, of medium build, with a slightly dark complexion. He wore dark green archer's sleeves, a leather belt at his waist, his steps steady. His features bore a faint resemblance to Cui Yan's, but his demeanor was rougher, like a military man long in the field.

  This was Cui Jun, Cui Yan's distant cousin, a scion of a lesser branch of the Qinghe Cui clan. His father died early, the family fortunes declined. He joined the army at eighteen, spent five years in You Province, and only returned to Luoyang last year, using connections to secure a position as a street-patrolling constable in the Metropolitan Governor's office.

  "Cousin." Cui Jun saluted with cupped fists, respectful but not subservient.

  "Cousin Jun, please sit." Cui Yan signaled Qingwu to serve tea. "How have you been lately?"

  "Same as always. Patrolling the streets, catching petty thieves, mediating neighborhood squabbles." Cui Jun smiled wryly. "You summoned me, cousin. Do you have instructions?"

  Cui Yan dismissed the attendants, leaving only Cui Fu.

  "Cousin Jun, would you like to change positions?" she asked directly.

  Cui Jun was taken aback. "Change positions?"

  "Chief of Theft Suppression. Councilor Wang will certainly retire within the month." Cui Yan looked at him. "I want you to take his place."

  Cui Jun's teacup wobbled, a few drops splashing out.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  "Me? Chief of Theft Suppression?" His eyes widened. "Cousin, I'm just a street patrolman. Above me are the Clerk and Assistant Clerk for Theft Suppression..."

  "Those are not problems." Cui Yan interrupted him. "The question is, do you dare to take it? And if you take it, can you do the job well?"

  Cui Jun fell silent for a moment, then set down his cup.

  "Cousin, we're family. Let's speak plainly." He adopted a serious expression. "Many eyes are on that position of Chief of Theft Suppression. Even if I get there relying on family connections, without real ability, I won't last. What's more..." he lowered his voice, "how deep the waters of Luoyang run, you know better than I, cousin. That position is the eye of the storm."

  A look of approval appeared in Cui Yan's eyes.

  Though from a lesser branch, Cui Jun had a clear head, was not blindly ambitious for power. This was good.

  "Precisely because it's the eye of the storm, we need our own man there." Cui Yan spoke slowly. "Rest assured, the family will support you fully. Moreover, I will give you an opportunity to earn merit."

  She signaled to Cui Fu.

  Cui Fu took out a case file and spread it on the table.

  "This is an old case from three years ago. The 'Futong Trading House' in the Southern Market was burgled. Lost jewels worth a thousand gold." Cui Yan pointed at the file. "Several suspects were arrested at the time but released for lack of evidence. The case has remained unresolved."

  Cui Jun frowned. "I know of this case. I've read the file. It truly is difficult to crack. The scene was clean, no clues left. It seemed like an inside job, but everyone in the trading house was investigated top to bottom, and nothing was found."

  "What if I told you now where the stolen goods are hidden?" Cui Yan smiled.

  Cui Jun was stunned.

  Cui Yan drew a slip of paper from her sleeve and pushed it over.

  An address was written on it: Yongping Ward, northern city, Liu's Coffin Shop, hidden compartment in the third cypress coffin.

  "This is..."

  "Information our family's intelligence network chanced upon." Cui Yan said lightly. "You investigate. Apprehend the criminal with the goods. That will be your achievement."

  Cui Jun stared at the slip of paper, his breathing growing slightly rapid.

  Solving a cold case, recovering stolen goods worth a thousand gold—such merit was enough for a promotion of three grades.

  "But cousin," he looked up, "why give such important information to me? The family could surely find someone more senior..."

  "Because you are one of our own." Cui Yan looked at him. "And also because you are willing to endure hardship, understand practical affairs, have trained in the army, know how to lead men. The Chief of Theft Suppression needs someone who can get things done, not some old pedant who only knows how to sit in court."

  She stood and walked to stand before Cui Jun.

  "Cousin Jun, the family needs you in that position. Not for you to contend for power and profit, but for you to do three things: First, ascertain just how many of the eunuchs' informants are embedded within the Metropolitan Governor's office. Second, grasp the true state of public security in Luoyang, especially those cases that never see the light of day. Third—"

  She paused, lowering her voice further. "Take note of all leads involving 'former military subordinates,' 'old cases from previous reigns.' But remember, do not actively investigate. Merely record, report upward. Let those who should know, know."

  Cui Jun took a deep breath.

  He understood. This position was a pivotal point on the board. He was to be a living piece.

  "Cousin, I'll do it." He stood and saluted with cupped fists. "When do you need me to act?"

  "Tomorrow." Cui Yan said. "Arrest the man, recover the goods, escort them directly to the Metropolitan Governor's office. Remember, you must 'stumble upon' the lead. Act surprised, astonished."

  "Understood."

  After Cui Jun left, Cui Yan said to Cui Fu, "Notify our line in the palace. They may begin spreading the message."

  "Yes." Cui Fu asked, "What message shall we spread?"

  "Say this—" Cui Yan gazed in the direction of the Imperial City. "The Metropolitan Governor's office is incompetent in handling cases. The floating corpse cases pile up higher and higher. The common people whisper and discuss, fearing it may stir popular revolt."

  A faint curve touched the corner of her mouth.

  "Governor Yang Biao fears nothing more than the words 'popular revolt.'"

  V. The First Stirring Wind in the Court

  The twenty-sixth day of the ninth month, early morning, the Hall of Virtuous Radiance.

  This was the first court assembly since Emperor Ling fell ill—though the Son of Heaven himself did not attend, a junior eunuch relayed the decree: "All officials with matters may present them."

  Lu Zhi stood at the forefront of the civil officials' ranks, holding an ivory audience tablet, his expression grave. He was fifty-three this year, hair and beard already greyed, but his back was straight as an old pine enduring wind and frost.

  When the junior eunuch shrilly called, "Those with memorials may present them; if none, court is dismissed," Lu Zhi took a step forward.

  "Your subject, Imperial Secretary Lu Zhi, has a memorial to present!"

  The great hall quieted momentarily.

  Everyone knew when Lu Zhi spoke, it was never trivial.

  "Speak," came the voice from behind the curtain, the junior eunuch's.

  "Your subject has recently heard that unclaimed corpses appear frequently outside Luoyang's walls. In three months, their number exceeds twenty." Lu Zhi's voice was sonorous, echoing through the hall. "The deceased are mostly able-bodied men, bearing old wounds, suspected to be of military background. Yet the Metropolitan Governor's office handles them carelessly—no autopsies, no case records, no investigation. Discovered and buried immediately, like diseased livestock!"

  A stir rippled through the court.

  Several censors whispered among themselves. Metropolitan Governor Yang Biao's face paled. In the eunuchs' ranks, Zhang Rang narrowed his eyes.

  "Secretary Lu," Yang Biao couldn't help but step forward, "are these words not excessive? Refugee deaths are commonplace. The office acts according to precedent..."

  "According to what precedent?" Lu Zhi turned to him. "The precedent of 'not reporting, not investigating, not leaving any record'? Governor Yang, dare you produce the case files for these three months of floating corpses here in court?"

  Yang Biao was speechless.

  What files? Orders from above had long forbidden any records.

  Zhang Rang suddenly spoke, his voice soft and insidious. "Secretary Lu, refugee matters are for the Metropolitan Governor to handle. As Imperial Secretary, your concern is affairs of state. Why entangle yourself in such minutiae?"

  "Minutiae?" Lu Zhi scoffed. "Chief Regular Attendant Zhang, if the deceased were merely ordinary refugees, then indeed it is minutiae. But if the deceased bear tattoos on the backs of their necks, if they are former subordinates of a certain Grand General from six years ago—is this still minutiae?"

  His words sent a shock through the entire assembly!

  Though the Dou Wu affair was six years past, which elder minister present did not know of it? It was the fuse for the Partisan Prohibitions, the beginning of the bloody conflict between the upright faction and the eunuchs!

  Zhang Rang's expression changed. "Lu Zhi! Do not spout nonsense! The Dou Wu case was concluded long ago! His Majesty rendered his judgment!"

  "Concluded?" Lu Zhi stared directly at the curtain. "If concluded, why are his former subordinates being systematically eliminated six years later? Why is every corpse stripped of personal tokens? Chief Regular Attendant Zhang, dare you say this matter has no connection to the palace?"

  "You—" Zhang Rang trembled with rage.

  "Enough!"

  A sound of a hand slapping a table came from behind the curtain—the junior eunuch mimicking imperial authority.

  "This matter... is entrusted to the Metropolitan Governor for detailed investigation. A memorial is to be submitted within three days." The junior eunuch paused. "Court is dismissed!"

  The officials called out "Long live the Emperor" and began filing out.

  Lu Zhi walked at the rear. Several upright faction ministers gathered around him, asking in low tones. He merely waved a hand, saying nothing, but a cold, sharp light shone in his eyes.

  He knew his words today had stirred up a hornet's nest.

  But some matters, someone had to stir.

  The same time, the study in the Yuan residence.

  Xu You handed Cui Yan's letter to Yuan Shao.

  Yuan Shao read it, his brow deeply furrowed. "Crossbow bolts from the Directorate of Imperial Manufactories drifting into the black market... What is this young lady of the Cui clan hinting at?"

  "My lord," Xu You said softly, "I made some inquiries. The Directorate did indeed report a batch of military crossbows lost last month, claimed as training wear and tear. But the numbers... don't match. Ten are missing."

  "Ten crossbows..." Yuan Shao tapped the table. "Enough to equip a small assassination squad."

  "Furthermore, at this morning's court assembly, Lu Zhi publicly questioned the floating corpse case, directly pointing to the elimination of Dou Wu's former subordinates." Xu You leaned closer. "My lord, connecting these two matters..."

  Yuan Shao stood and walked to the window.

  Outside, autumn colors were vivid, but his heart felt heavy.

  "Someone is eliminating Dou Wu's remnants, collecting relics from that time." He spoke slowly. "Using palace weapons, with palace backing. Their target... I fear is not merely a few old soldiers."

  "My lord means..."

  "The Winter Solstice Sacrifice." Yuan Shao turned, a sharp light flickering in his eyes. "His Majesty is gravely ill, the princes are young. Whoever masters enough bargaining chips before the Sacrifice can... influence the future."

  Xu You drew a sharp breath. "Then should we..."

  "We should, of course we should." Yuan Shao gave a cold smile. "But we need not take the field ourselves. You go contact Lu Zhi. Share with him what we know about the crossbows. Let the upright faction take the vanguard."

  "And the Cui clan?"

  "Cui Yan..." Yuan Shao pondered. "That woman is not simple. Maintain good relations for now, see what else she can produce. As for that wandering knight, Li Yan..."

  He paused. "Keep an eye on him as well. To survive in a place like the Ghost Market and uncover these things, he is no ordinary man."

  Xu You bowed. "Yes."

  VI. The Covert Piece in Motion

  The twenty-seventh day of the ninth month, noon.

  Cui Jun led a squad of constables storming into Liu's Coffin Shop in Yongping Ward in the northern city.

  The shopkeeper was a withered old man, sunning himself squinting by the entrance. Seeing the officers, he nearly fell out of his chair in fright.

  "Of-off-offi-cers, what is this...?"

  "Search!" Cui Jun waved a hand.

  The constables charged in like wolves and tigers. Dozens of coffins stood inside the shop, gloomy and ominous. Following the instructions on the slip, Cui Jun walked directly to the third cypress coffin.

  "Open it."

  The coffin lid was pried open. It was empty inside. But Cui Jun knocked on the bottom panel—it sounded hollow.

  He drew his waist-sword, inserted it into a seam, and levered with force!

  The bottom panel sprang open, revealing the hidden compartment beneath.

  A dazzling gleam of gold!

  Pearls, jade pendants, gold ingots, silver vessels... piled a full layer, glittering so brightly in the dim coffin shop it hurt the eyes.

  "The stolen goods are here!" Cui Jun roared. "Seize him!"

  The shopkeeper collapsed to the ground.

  Half a watch later, Cui Jun escorted the criminal and the recovered goods in a grand procession back to the Metropolitan Governor's office.

  Yang Biao was drinking tea in the rear hall when his chief clerk rushed in with the urgent report. He hurried out. Seeing the pile of goods, his eyes went wide.

  "This... this is..."

  "Reporting, Your Excellency." Cui Jun went down on one knee. "This lowly officer was patrolling the streets today and chanced to overhear two beggars discussing that the stolen goods from the Futong Trading House case three years ago might be hidden in a coffin shop. Acting on a mere hunch, I went to investigate, never expecting..."

  He spoke earnestly, his expression a mix of pleasant surprise and disbelief, exactly like a fool who had stumbled upon incredible luck.

  Yang Biao stared at him for a long moment, then suddenly clapped his hands and laughed heartily. "Good! Excellent! Cui Jun, you have performed a great service!"

  Of course, he knew it wasn't that "accidental." But did it matter? No. What mattered was that a cold case was solved, stolen goods recovered. This was political achievement! At a time when he had been publicly questioned by Lu Zhi and was at his wits' end, this was nothing short of timely aid!

  "Pass the order," Yang Biao told his chief clerk. "Cui Jun has achieved merit in solving a case. Reward him with fifty strings of cash, record a major merit. Also..." He glanced at Cui Jun. "Chief of Theft Suppression Councilor Wang is gravely ill and has petitioned to resign many times. From today, Cui Jun is to act in his stead for theft suppression affairs."

  Cui Jun's heart pounded, but outwardly he remained steady. "Thank you for your promotion, Your Excellency! This lowly officer will exert his utmost effort!"

  "Do well." Yang Biao patted his shoulder, his tone meaningful. "Young man, you have prospects."

  That afternoon, news of Cui Jun acting as Chief of Theft Suppression spread throughout the office.

  Some envied, some were jealous, but none dared say anything—the man had indeed performed a great service, and his surname was Cui, of the Qinghe Cui clan.

  Evening, the study of the Cui residence.

  Cui Fu reported joyfully. "Young mistress, it is done! Young Master Cui Jun is now acting Chief of Theft Suppression. Yang Biao even said privately that once Councilor Wang's formal retirement petition is approved, he will have Jun confirmed in the position."

  Cui Yan was practicing calligraphy. Hearing this, her brushstroke did not falter.

  "And the palace side?"

  "The message has been spread. The effect is excellent." Cui Fu lowered his voice. "I heard that this afternoon, Zhang Rang summoned Yang Biao to the palace and berated him for a full half-watch, calling him useless, unable to suppress mere rumors."

  "Yang Biao's reaction?"

  "What else could he do? Grovel and agree, promising to certainly strengthen public security, solve a few cases quickly to pacify the people's discontent." Cui Fu chuckled. "The more anxious he is, the more secure Young Master Jun's position becomes."

  Cui Yan finished writing the last character and set down her brush.

  On the paper was a line of poetry: Great storms arise from the slightest breezes.

  "Uncle Fu," she looked at the line, "how large do you think this storm will grow?"

  Cui Fu reined in his smile and thought seriously for a moment. "Young mistress, this old servant will speak honestly: the wind is already strong. Lu Zhi's public questioning, Yuan Shao's covert attention, the eunuchs' nervousness, the Metropolitan Governor's fear... But what it ultimately blows down depends on how the wind blows from here on."

  "Indeed." Cui Yan said softly. "We have only lit the first spark. The winds that follow must be fanned by others."

  She walked to the window. Night had fallen. The lanterns of Luoyang were just beginning to shine.

  The city still looked prosperous, but she knew beneath the tranquil surface, undercurrents had already begun to churn.

  And she now stood at the very edge of the vortex.

  VII. Li Yan's Parallel Investigation (A Side Portrait)

  The same time, the refugee slums south of the city.

  Li Yan crouched before a makeshift shack, holding half a flatbread, offering it to the three children inside.

  The children looked at him timidly, not daring to take it.

  "Eat. I just bought it, still warm." Li Yan grinned. "Don't worry, it's free. And I don't want you to steal anything for me—though your stealing skills are indeed quite good."

  The oldest boy, about ten years old, hesitantly took the bread, broke it into three pieces for his siblings. Then he looked up at Li Yan. "You... you really aren't an officer?"

  "Do I look like one?" Li Yan spread his hands. "Do officers dress this shabby?"

  "Yes." The boy said seriously. "The way you walk, the way you look at people, you do. But officers don't give us food."

  Li Yan was amused. "Clever. I used to be... sort of half an officer. Not anymore. Come on, let me ask you something: Have people gone missing in your camp lately?"

  The boy's eyes dimmed. "Yes. Last month, Uncle Zhang from the east end disappeared. He was from Hebei, walked with a limp, but he was very kind, often told us stories."

  "Uncle Zhang..." Li Yan noted it down. "Did he have anything special on him? Like a jade pendant, an old token?"

  The boy thought. "Yes! He had a bronze plaque, always wore it around his neck. Said his father left it to him. It was carved with... a bird, and words, but I couldn't read them all."

  "Was one of the words 'martial'?"

  "Yes, yes! That's it!" The boy's eyes widened. "How did you know?"

  Li Yan's heart sank.

  Dou Wu's former subordinate. Confirmed.

  He asked a few more people. The information pieced together: within three months, six people had disappeared from this refugee camp. All were able-bodied men, all had military backgrounds, all had similar tokens.

  And their disappearances followed a pattern: one every twelve or thirteen days, as if being culled from a list.

  "Well, I'll be..." Li Yan stood, dusting off his pants. "They're harvesting them like crops, one row at a time."

  Just as he prepared to leave, a mad-looking old man suddenly rushed over and grabbed his arm!

  "Snow in the winter month! Blood at the palace gate! Jade tokens shatter! The realm splits asunder!" The old man shrieked, eyes wide, drool wetting his scruffy beard.

  Li Yan was taken aback. "Old man, what are you saying?"

  "Snow in the winter month! Blood at the palace gate!" The old man repeated, pulling a charred wooden plaque from his robe and shoving it into Li Yan's hand. "Take it! Take it! It's coming! It's all coming!"

  Then he released his grip, threw his head back and laughed three times to the sky, and fell straight backward.

  Thump. Dust flew.

  Li Yan quickly crouched to check his breath—already gone.

  Refugees gathered around, murmuring.

  "That old lunatic, always spouting nonsense, finally went mad for good today..."

  "Ai, a pitiful soul. I heard his son died in battle."

  "That plaque in his hand, probably picked from the trash..."

  Li Yan looked down at the wooden plaque in his hand.

  It had been burned, edges charred black, but its original shape was discernible—a rectangle, the top half carved with a blurry pattern that resembled... the outline of a palace?

  He turned it over. On the back were two characters, burned so only half remained.

  "West... Garden..."

  West Garden?

  Li Yan's heart jolted.

  The Western Garden Army, the new army commanded by the eunuch Jian Shuo, the Emperor's personal guard.

  Was this plaque a token of the Western Garden Army?

  How would a refugee old man have such a thing?

  He stood, looking at the old man's corpse on the ground, then at the charred plaque in his hand, then thought of Shopkeeper Sun's words about the "Winter Solstice Sacrifice." Suddenly, a chill shot up from the soles of his feet.

  This was no simple vendetta, no ordinary treasure hunt.

  This was a vast net, ensnaring Luoyang, ensnaring the court, ensnaring the realm.

  And he had already stepped right into its mesh.

  VIII. The Net is Cast, Awaiting the Storm

  The twenty-eighth day of the ninth month, night.

  Cui Yan received the latest news from Cui Fu in her study.

  "Young mistress, a secret letter from the palace: His Majesty's condition has worsened. The Office of Imperial Physicians is secretly preparing for the end. Zhang Rang, Zhao Zhong, and the other Ten Regular Attendants have been frequently entering the Palace of Eternal Joy recently—that is Empress Dowager Dong's residence."

  Empress Dowager Dong, Emperor Ling's birth mother, favored Prince Xie.

  Empress He favored Prince Bian.

  Cui Yan set down the letter and walked to the map. The map marked the distribution of Luoyang's various factions: eunuchs, imperial in-laws, great families, the military...

  Her finger moved from the Imperial City to the Western Garden, then to the Metropolitan Governor's office, finally resting on the location of the refugee slums.

  "Winter Solstice Sacrifice..." she murmured to herself.

  If His Majesty passed before the Sacrifice, if the forces behind the two princes were already at swords' points, if the jade token register of Dou Wu's former subordinates became the crucial bargaining chip...

  Then this winter month, Luoyang would run with blood.

  "Uncle Fu," she turned, "tell Cui Jun his first task upon assuming office is not to investigate the floating corpse case, but to organize all the unresolved case files—especially those cold cases involving court figures. We need to know what other secrets are buried within the Metropolitan Governor's office."

  "Yes."

  "And also," Cui Yan paused, "keep an eye on that Li Yan. If he comes to the office again to investigate... give him some leeway."

  Cui Fu was momentarily puzzled. "Young mistress wishes to help him?"

  "Not help. Observe." Cui Yan gazed out the window at the profound night. "This man may hold secrets we do not yet know. And in the Luoyang of now, one more variable adds one more measure of... interest."

  The corner of her mouth curved up, but the smile held no warmth.

  Outside, the autumn wind howled, whirling fallen leaves skyward.

  Luoyang's autumn night had never felt so cold.

  And in a side room of the Hall of Benevolent Healing's rear courtyard south of the city, Li Yan sat by the light of an oil lamp, carefully wiping the charred wooden plaque.

  Wiping away the surface ash revealed the plaque's original color—a dark red, as if stained with blood.

  The front was indeed carved with a palace. On the back, the characters "West Garden" were clearly visible. And at the very bottom was a line of small characters, previously obscured by the charring:

  "Jia-designation Third Squad, Number Seven."

  Jia-designation Third Squad, the elite of the Western Garden Army.

  Number Seven. Was it an identifier, or... an order?

  Li Yan recalled the old refugee's dying words: Snow in the winter month! Blood at the palace gate! Jade tokens shatter! The realm splits asunder!

  He suddenly understood: what he had picked up might not be an ordinary token.

  It might be a death warrant.

  Or perhaps, a key.

  A key capable of opening Pandora's box.

  The oil lamp wick popped, sending out a spark.

  Li Yan blew out the lamp and lay on the bed, but his eyes stayed open, devoid of sleep.

  From outside the window came the watchman's call: Third watch, all's well.

  The sound echoed in the empty night, fading into the distance.

  Luoyang slept.

  But some were destined to lie awake this night.