The first crack did not sound like sabotage.
It sounded like fatigue.
A dull thup beneath a cart wheel just before dawn, followed by the soft curse of a driver who thought he'd simply hit a poorly packed patch of dirt. The oxen slowed, uncertain. The sheep farther up the slope lifted their heads, ears twitching.
Then the wheel sank.
Not far—just enough.
Enough to snap the axle's balance and pitch the cart sideways. Wool bundles slid. A hide dragged through mud. The driver stumbled, cursing louder now, hands slick with panic.
By the time Gu Han arrived at a run, the damage was already done.
The road had failed.
Or rather—someone had made sure it would.
Gu Han knelt, fingers probing the ground. The stone beneath the packed dirt had been shifted. Not removed—tilted. The timber brace was intact, but its anchor peg had been loosened, just enough to let weight do the rest.
Subtle.
Careful.
Expensive to fix if left unnoticed.
Gu Han straightened and looked up the road.
Two villagers stood at a distance, pretending to argue over the price of turnips.
They watched too closely.
"Stop traffic," Gu Han said quietly.
The driver sputtered. "I paid the fee! You can't—"
"We'll compensate," Gu Han replied calmly. "But you're not moving until this is assessed."
That word—assessed—carried weight now.
Gu Han sent a runner.
Lin Yan arrived before the sun cleared the ridge.
He took in the scene in one breath: the cart, the sagging wheel, the disturbed earth, the villagers pretending not to stare.
He crouched without speaking.
The system panel flickered—brief, sharp.
[Alert: Infrastructure Integrity Compromised]
[Cause: External Interference | Probability 87%]
Lin Yan closed it.
He didn't need proof.
He needed response.
"Shen Mu," Lin Yan said. "Walk the length. Quietly."
Shen Mu nodded and went, staff tapping lightly as if on a casual stroll.
"Gu Han," Lin Yan continued. "Record the time, cart weight, weather."
Gu Han already had the ledger open.
Lin Yan turned to the driver.
"You'll be paid for the delay," Lin Yan said. "And your axle repaired."
The driver blinked. "You… you're sure?"
"Yes."
The driver bowed repeatedly, relief washing over his anger.
Lin Yan stood.
His gaze swept the gathered villagers.
"Everyone go home," he said calmly. "There's nothing to see."
Some hesitated.
Then Old Zhou arrived.
"Did you hear him?" the headman barked. "Go."
They scattered.
Not all willingly.
The repair took an hour.
The inspection took longer.
Shen Mu returned with a grave expression.
"Three points," Shen Mu said quietly. "All similar. All loosened the same way."
Lin Yan nodded. "Spacing?"
"Consistent."
"Tools?"
Shen Mu's mouth tightened. "A flat iron. Not a hoe."
That narrowed it.
Lin Yan closed his eyes briefly.
This was not random.
This was testing.
By midday, the county clerk arrived.
Unannounced.
Again.
He dismounted, took in the scene, and said nothing until Lin Yan approached.
"Sabotage," the clerk said flatly.
"Yes," Lin Yan replied.
"You're certain?"
"I'm responsible," Lin Yan said. "Certainty comes with that."
The clerk crouched, examined the ground, the peg, the stone.
"This is deliberate," he said. "Clean."
Lin Yan nodded.
"Any suspects?" the clerk asked.
Lin Yan did not answer immediately.
Then: "Yes."
The clerk looked up sharply.
"Name them."
Lin Yan met his gaze steadily. "Not yet."
The clerk's eyes narrowed. "You're withholding information."
"I'm preventing misdirection," Lin Yan replied. "Let me handle this first."
Silence stretched.
Finally, the clerk stood. "You have one day."
"That's enough," Lin Yan said.
The clerk mounted and left.
That night, Lin Yan did not call a meeting.
He invited individuals.
One by one.
Quietly.
Wei Zhen came first.
Then the old hunter.
Then two men who worked irregularly—one with debts, one with a temper.
Lin Yan did not accuse.
He asked questions.
Who had been near the road at night?
Who had been offered coin recently?
Who had reason to resent the fees?
Patterns emerged.
Not clear guilt.
But pressure.
And pressure always flowed downhill.
Hu Sheng did not come.
That told Lin Yan more than words could.
The truth arrived from an unexpected place.
A child.
Little Shun, who ran errands for copper coins, arrived breathless just after dusk.
"I saw them," the boy blurted. "By the road. Last night."
Lin Yan crouched. "Who?"
"Two men," Shun said. "One was Uncle Hu's cousin. The other—I don't know him."
Lin Yan's jaw tightened.
"Did they see you?"
Shun shook his head. "I was hiding."
Lin Yan nodded. "You did well."
He paid the boy double.
And told him to tell no one.
Lin Yan did not confront Hu Sheng.
Not yet.
Instead, he acted.
That night, guards were posted.
Not armed men—villagers.
Paid.
Rotating.
Visible.
The road was lit with lanterns at intervals.
It no longer slept.
Xu Wen arrived two days later.
Smiling.
"I heard there was an accident," Xu Wen said lightly, standing at the road's edge.
"An attempt," Lin Yan replied.
Xu Wen raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous business, roads."
"They are," Lin Yan agreed. "Especially when people think they can break them quietly."
Xu Wen chuckled. "You're under pressure."
"Yes."
"And still you refuse partnership?"
"Yes."
Xu Wen sighed. "You make things difficult."
Lin Yan met his gaze. "I make them clear."
Xu Wen's smile vanished.
"Clarity creates enemies," Xu Wen said.
Lin Yan nodded. "So does ownership."
Xu Wen studied him for a long moment.
Then he bowed slightly.
"Until next time, Steward."
He left.
That evening, Lin Yan walked the road with Shen Mu.
"You're escalating," Shen Mu said.
"Yes," Lin Yan replied.
"Hu Sheng won't stop."
"No," Lin Yan agreed. "But he's exposed now."
Shen Mu nodded slowly. "And the county?"
"They'll watch," Lin Yan said. "And wait to see if I break."
The system panel appeared, steady and warning-red.
[Risk Escalation Detected]
[New Option Available: Enforcement Measures]
[Cost: Reputation | Coin | Conflict]
Lin Yan closed it.
He looked down the lantern-lit road, guards standing silent at intervals.
The sabotage had failed.
But it had revealed something vital.
This was no longer about roads.
It was about authority.
Who had it.
Who challenged it.
And how much damage they were willing to risk to test it.
Lin Yan exhaled slowly.
In his previous life, pressure had crushed him because it came from everywhere and nowhere at once.
Here—
Pressure had a face.
A name.
A direction.
And that meant it could be answered.