The night had turned cruel.
All four of them—Ziyan, Feiyan, Shuye, and the young guard—ran through the burning wreckage of the traffickers' camp. Behind them, flames consumed canvas and timber alike, smoke rising into the stars. Freed prisoners scattered into the woods like startled deer, but the four moved with grim purpose.
Their destination lay atop the hill—a stone house, thick-walled and ancient, untouched by the chaos below.
Inside, the camp boss—stocky, soaked with sweat, face smeared with ash—was tossing documents into a brazier. Flames devoured parchment hungrily: sealed letters, maps, ledgers. Evidence turned to ash.
Then he saw them in the doorway.
His eyes widened. He reached for the sword leaning against the desk—but Feiyan was already moving.
Steel hissed.
He swung, sloppy with panic. She deflected the blow and kicked his legs from beneath him. He hit the stone floor hard, coughing blood.
Feiyan pressed her blade to his throat. "Try again, and I'll open your neck."
"We're not here to kill you," she added icily. "Not unless you make it necessary."
Ziyan stepped forward, her face pale but steady. "Who ordered my capture?"
The man wheezed, pain in his voice. "I don't know your name. I don't care. We got instructions. Gold. That's all."
"You knew I had value."
"Someone paid a lot to keep you breathing. Said you'd understand when the time came."
Feiyan's eyes narrowed. "Who brought the message?"
The boss hesitated. "Tall man. Wore grey. Quiet. Strange eyes. Cold voice."
"Did he give a name?"
"No. Just handed me a scroll, sealed with black wax. Said I'd be paid more if I followed the orders exactly."
The young guard, standing behind them, muttered, "And you obeyed, like a dog."
The boss sneered. "Gold is gold."
He reached slowly into his coat. Feiyan raised her blade.
"Wait," he rasped. "Just a letter. I didn't burn it."
Ziyan took it from his trembling hand. It was scorched at the edges but mostly intact—written in elegant, deliberate ink:
The girl is the last key. Do not fail. Deliver her alive. The family must not know until it is done.
Ziyan's hands trembled slightly.
Feiyan leaned closer. "What does it mean?"
"I don't know!" the boss spat. "I was told she'd be trouble. That she'd ask questions. But if I delivered her, someone else would come to collect."
Feiyan's blade dropped an inch. Ziyan stepped back, lost in thought.
Then—
Thwip.
A faint hiss cut through the air. The camp boss stiffened.
A dart protruded from his neck.
He gasped. Foam bubbled at his lips. He convulsed once—and was still.
Feiyan yanked Ziyan behind a stone shelf. "Down!"
Shuye let out a yelp and ducked. The guard raised his weapon.
Figures dropped from the windows—three of them, cloaked in black, faces veiled. They moved with silent precision, blades already drawn.
From the northern archway, a calm, cultured voice spoke:
"You burned too slowly, old man."
A fourth figure stepped into view. He wore the robes of a court minister—silk trimmed in fur, glinting with gold thread. His presence was cold and effortless, like a shadow cast by no light.
His beard was finely shaped. His eyes, calm and pitiless, swept the room.
Ziyan peered from behind the stone ledge—and froze.
She had seen that face. Years ago, in the Li family estate. A guest, they called him. He never gave a name. But her brother had stood straighter in his presence. Her father had fallen quiet when he spoke.
He hadn't aged a day.
He didn't need to look directly at her. She felt it—he knew she was there.
"Burn the rest," he said to the assassins. "We've taken what we came for."
Then, as if bound by some dark rhythm, they vanished—into smoke and shadow.
Only silence remained.
Shuye exhaled shakily. "Who was that?"
Feiyan stared at the dead man on the floor. "Someone with a long reach."
Ziyan, still clutching the letter, answered softly:
"Someone tied to the Li family. He used to visit our house… but no one ever dared ask who he was."
Feiyan turned to her. "You think this was about revenge?"
Ziyan shook her head. "No. This is about control. Secrets. Maybe even prophecy."
She looked back at the smouldering papers, lips pressed tight.
"This wasn't just about selling me to traffickers. This was to keep me hidden. Isolated. Away from… something."
She met Feiyan's eyes.
"I think my family's hiding a truth they would kill to protect."
Outside, fire consumed the last of the stone house.
But what burned tonight wasn't just a den of criminals—it was a doorway. And behind it, the shadows of the past waited, watching.