The cart lurched violently over a stone.
The jolt ran straight through the wooden planks and into the girl's spine.
Her eyes snapped open.
For a moment she saw nothing but darkness. The inside of the caravan smelled of damp straw, sweat, and old iron. The air was stale enough to sting the throat.
Her wrists were bound behind her back.
The rope bit into the skin each time the cart jolted.
She lay still.
Voices drifted from outside.
"Once we pass through Qinghe and reach Yun port the buyers will be waiting."
"Those rich bastards pay double for girls with good faces."
A burst of laughter followed.
The girl's lashes lowered again.
Her mind was strangely empty.
She did not remember her name.
She did not remember where she had come from.
There was only a dull ache behind her temples and the faint sound of the wheels grinding against the road.
Yet something inside her remained alert.
Her fingers shifted slightly against the rope.
The knot was rough and careless.
Whoever tied it had not expected a petite girl to undo them.
The girl twisted her wrist.
The fibers scraped across her skin.
Another twist.
The rope loosened a fraction.
Outside the cart a man shouted to another. Hooves stamped against the frozen earth. Someone spat loudly.
No one noticed the faint movement within the straw.
The girl continued working at the knot.
Her fingers were cold and numb but they moved with quiet precision, pulling one strand loose, then another.
A few moments later the rope slipped free.
Her arms fell forward.
For a brief second she simply stared at her hands as though they belonged to someone else.
Then the cart slowed.
One of the traffickers cursed.
"Stop here. Let the horses breathe."
The wheels ground to a halt.
Lantern light seeped faintly through the gaps in the wooden boards.
The girl moved without hesitation.
She pushed aside the rough canvas flap covering the rear of the cart and dropped to the ground.
Cold air rushed against her face.
For a heartbeat she simply stood there.
The night sky stretched above her, black and endless.
Then someone shouted.
"Hey!"
Boots struck the dirt.
She ran.
Her bare feet struck the frozen earth hard enough to sting. Gravel scattered beneath each step as she darted toward the dark hills rising beyond the road.
"Catch her!"
"Don't let the goods get away!"
Three men gave chase.
They were large men with thick arms and crooked blades hanging from their belts. One carried a short hooked blade stained dark along the edge.
The girl ran across the rocky slope without slowing.
Loose stones slid underfoot.
Her body adjusted instinctively.
She moved lightly across the uneven ground, weaving between jagged rocks as though she had done so many times before.
Yet she had no memory of it at all.
A hand grabbed her shoulder.
She twisted sharply.
The movement came naturally, faster than thought.
Her elbow drove backward into the man's throat.
A choked sound escaped him.
Before he could recover she seized his wrist, twisted it hard, and drove her knee into his ribs.
Something cracked.
The man collapsed with a howl.
The second trafficker lunged forward with a curse.
His blade flashed under the moonlight.
The girl stepped sideways.
The knife sliced through empty air.
Her hand shot out and caught his sleeve. She pulled hard, dragging him forward off balance.
His body slammed against a rock.
The blade slipped from his fingers.
She snatched it before it touched the ground.
For an instant the weapon felt strangely familiar in her hand.
The weight.
The balance.
The man staggered upright again.
"You little—"
The word ended in a wet gasp.
The blade slid between his ribs.
Warm blood splashed across her sleeve.
The man collapsed heavily at her feet.
The third trafficker slowed.
His face twisted with disbelief.
"You…"
He drew a longer knife from his belt.
The girl did not wait.
She stepped forward.
He swung wildly.
She ducked under the strike and drove the stolen blade upward.
Steel met flesh.
The man's body jerked.
His knife dropped uselessly to the ground.
Silence returned to the hillside.
The girl stood very still.
Blood dripped slowly from the blade in her hand.
Her breathing came fast but steady.
The bodies lay scattered across the rocks behind her.
For a long moment she simply stared at them.
There was no triumph in her eyes.
Only confusion.
She wiped the blade clean against the man's cloak and placed it securely in her robes.
Then she turned and began running again.
The hills stretched endlessly beneath the moonlight.
Sharp rocks tore at the delicate soles of her feet. Cold wind cut through the torn sleeves of her robe.
Still she ran.
Her hand drifted unconsciously to her chest.
Beneath the torn collar of her robe a thin chain rested against her skin.
At its end hung a jade pendant.
Her fingers closed around it.
The stone was cool and smooth, carved into the faint shape of a moon with delicate floral indentations running on its surface.
She did not know why it mattered.
Yet the moment her hand touched it, a strange calm settled in her chest.
She tightened her grip.
Then she continued forward into the dark terrain.
Far to the south, along the road leading to the capital, a very different scene unfolded.
Dust rose beneath the hooves of several horses.
The riders moved in tight formation. Black banners hung from their saddles, the dark fabric embroidered with the emblem of a raven spreading its wings.
Villagers gathered along the roadside as the procession passed.
Their expressions were far from welcoming.
Some whispered angrily.
Others simply stared.
Hatred lingered heavily in the air.
At the center of the formation rode a man clad in dark armor.
Li Zhen.
Crown Prince of Ming.
His posture remained perfectly straight in the saddle. The armor plates covering his shoulders gleamed faintly beneath the pale afternoon sun. A long sword rested at his waist.
His expression revealed nothing.
The crowd grew thicker as they neared the outer districts of the capital.
Word had spread quickly.
Too quickly.
"Look," someone murmured loudly. "That's him."
"The butcher prince."
"Village killer."
Another voice spat the words like poison.
"My cousin lived in that village. They said barely anyone survived."
The murmurs grew louder.
Anger simmered through the crowd like a rising storm.
A stone suddenly flew through the air.
It struck the ground near Li Zhen's horse.
Several guards immediately unsheathed their swords.
Before they could react, Li Zhen slowly turned his head.
His gaze fixed on the direction the stone had come from.
Cold.
Unfathomably cold.
The man who had thrown it froze where he stood.
For a single moment their eyes met.
Whatever courage he had gathered vanished instantly.
His face drained of color. Without another word he turned and pushed through the crowd, fleeing as quickly as possible.
The surrounding onlookers fell silent.
Li Zhen said nothing.
He simply looked forward again.
The procession continued toward the capital gates.
The capital city of Ming rose proudly against the horizon.
High walls of grey stone encircled the vast city like a fortress. Towering gates stood open, guarded by rows of imperial soldiers clad in bright armor.
Inside, wide streets stretched toward the palace district at the city's heart.
Carriages rattled past.
Merchants called out their fares.
But when the raven banners entered the main avenue, conversation dimmed.
People stepped aside.
Their eyes followed the riders in uneasy silence.
At the far end of the avenue, the imperial palace overtook the skyline.
Its roofs curved upward like the wings of a golden phoenix. Rows of vermilion pillars lined the great halls. Lanterns swayed gently beneath the eaves.
Li Zhen dismounted at the palace entrance.
A court officiator hurried forward.
"The court is already in session," he said stiffly. "His Majesty commands the Crown Prince to present himself immediately."
Li Zhen gave a slight nod.
He walked through the palace gates without hesitation.
Within the main court hall, ministers already stood in orderly rows.
The vast chamber smelled faintly of incense. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the high windows, illuminating the polished stone floor.
At the far end of the hall rose the dragon throne.
Upon it sat Emperor Mingyuan.
His robes were magnificent, woven with golden threads that shimmered in the light. Yet the man within them appeared strangely diminished.
His shoulders were narrow.
His face pale.
Even from a distance, faint lines of exhaustion were visible beneath his eyes.
When he breathed, his chest rose and fell unevenly.
The court eunuch's voice rang out suddenly.
"The Crown Prince arrives!"
Li Zhen stepped inside.
Immediately the entire hall performed the formal salute.
Ministers knelt in perfect rows.
"Long live the Emperor. Ten thousand years. Ten thousand years."
Their voices echoed through the chamber.
Li Zhen remained standing alongside the Fourth Prince.
He bowed deeply.
"This son greets Father Emperor."
Emperor Mingyuan stared down at him.
For several moments he did not speak.
Then his expression hardened.
"You dare return."
His voice was thin but sharp with anger.
Li Zhen's face remained unchanged.
"This son received the imperial summons."
Murmurs rippled through the court.
Officials leaned toward one another, sleeves brushing as they whispered behind their hands. Eyes drifted again and again toward the man standing in the center of the hall.
A tall official stepped forward from the left row of ministers.
He wore the deep crimson robes reserved for the highest rank of civil officials.
Prime Minister Qi Song.
Brother of the Empress.
His beard was carefully trimmed, the strands already silver at the edges. His gaze lingered on Li Zhen only briefly before he bowed toward the dragon throne.
"This minister greets Your Majesty."
Emperor Mingyuan leaned slightly forward.
Even from a distance it was easy to see the fatigue pressing against his features.
"Your Majesty," Qi Song said calmly, "the matter is already clear. The massacre at Longhe Village has caused outrage throughout the realm. The people demand justice."
His sleeve lifted slightly as he gestured toward the hall.
"Hundreds of villagers wiped out in a single day. Homes and livestock flooded. The few survivors claim the attackers wore the Raven banner army emblem and carried the crown prince's badge."
The hall grew quieter.
Li Zhen's expression did not change.
Not even his breathing shifted.
Only his eyes moved slightly.
Dark and still.
Prince Li Rui stepped forward then.
The Fourth Prince bowed respectfully toward the throne.
His voice carried just enough sorrow to sound sincere.
"Father Emperor," Li Rui said quietly, "such actions stain the dignity of the imperial family. Even if the Crown Prince claims innocence, the people will not accept it."
Emperor Mingyuan's hands gripped the arms of the throne.
His breathing grew heavier.
Across the hall, another voice rose.
General Shen Kuang's gauntlet struck softly against the hilt of his sword as he stepped forward.
The movement drew every eye in the hall.
"This general requests permission to speak."
Emperor Mingyuan nodded faintly.
"Speak."
Shen Kuang straightened.
"Your Majesty," he said firmly, "I have fought beside the Crown Prince for seven years. I have seen him lead soldiers into battles where survival was uncertain."
His gaze shifted briefly toward Li Zhen.
The younger man stood exactly as before.
Silent.
Unmoved.
"Crown Prince Li Zhen has defended the borders for years. The Raven Banner Army follows him with unwavering loyalty perhaps there were infiltrators wreaking havoc. We should investigate before reaching a verdict."
Prime Minister Qi's expression cooled.
"The investigation has already been conducted," he replied smoothly. "Witnesses confirmed the soldiers carried the Raven Banner. Orders were issued under the Crown Prince's seal."
General Shen's brow furrowed.
"That proves nothing."
The prime minister's smile thinned slightly.
"A bold claim."
He turned again toward the throne.
"Your Majesty, the general's loyalty is admirable. But the evidence remains before us."
Prince Li Rui spoke again.
"Even if the truth remains uncertain, the damage has been done. The entire capital talks of the bloodshed committed in the Crown Prince's name."
His gaze drifted briefly toward Li Zhen.
A faint smug smile flickered at the corner of his mouth.
Emperor Mingyuan suddenly coughed.
The sound echoed harshly through the hall.
A eunuch hurried forward with a silk cloth.
The emperor waved him away irritably.
His eyes fell upon Li Zhen once more.
For a long time he said nothing.
Finally he spoke.
"The Crown Prince has brought shame upon the dynasty."
The hall fell silent.
Li Zhen did not move.
His expression remained perfectly calm.
Emperor Mingyuan lifted a trembling hand.
"From this day forward," he declared, "Li Zhen is stripped of his title as Crown Prince."
Gasps spread through the ministers.
"Furthermore," the emperor continued slowly, "he shall be exiled to the frontier region of Qinghe. Without imperial permission he may never return to the capital."
The decision settled over the hall like falling snow.
Li Zhen bowed again.
"This son accepts the decree."
His voice remained steady and carried a glazier undertone.
Not a single emotion surfaced upon his face.
Emperor Mingyuan concluded the court meeting and left the court hall supported by his two eunuchs.
The wide train of his dragon robe dragged softly against the floor with every step.
His pace was slow.
After several dozen paces he paused beside a carved pillar.
One hand lifted slightly, pressing against his chest.
A faint cough escaped him.
He lowered his sleeve again and continued walking as if nothing had happened.
At his side joined an elderly court advisor.
His beard hung long and white against his dark robe. The jade ornament at his belt knocked softly against the silk with each step.
For a while neither man spoke.
The corridor stretched ahead of them, lined with painted beams and tall red pillars disappearing into shadow.
The advisor glanced toward the emperor.
Mingyuan's back seemed smaller than it had during the meeting.
The gold dragon embroidered across his robe folded slightly along the spine.
The advisor lowered his gaze.
"The Crown Prince accepted the decree without a word," he said quietly.
Mingyuan did not answer.
They continued walking.
A draft slipped through the corridor again. The lantern flames wavered, casting brief shadows across the emperor's face.
His cheekbones looked sharper in the flickering light.
After a few more steps the advisor spoke once more.
"The court will begin discussing succession tomorrow."
The emperor stopped.
Not abruptly.
Just a slight pause.
The silk of his sleeve settled slowly.
"Discussing," Mingyuan repeated.
His voice was soft.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The advisor kept his head lowered.
"The ministers will wish to ensure stability before rumors begin spreading outside the palace."
For a moment the emperor said nothing.
Then he resumed walking.
His steps had grown slower.
"The court worries too much," he murmured.
They passed beneath an archway painted with faded cranes.
The advisor followed half a step behind.
His eyes rested briefly on the emperor's sleeve.
The cuff trembled slightly each time Mingyuan exhaled.
"Earlier this year," the advisor said after a pause, "a tribute envoy arrived from Yanxi."
The emperor's brow shifted faintly.
"Yanxi."
"They brought rare medicines," the advisor continued. "Pearl powders, spirit herbs, mountain ginseng."
The emperor gave a quiet hum.
"Tribute envoys always bring something."
"They also brought stories."
The emperor did not turn.
The advisor continued walking beside him.
"The Yanxi Emperor appeared at a banquet personally. The envoy described him as tall, with black hair unmarked by grey."
Mingyuan's steps slowed again.
"Many rulers keep their hair dyed."
"This servant thought the same."
The advisor's fingers brushed lightly against the jade bead at his belt.
"But the envoy insisted the man's skin held no wrinkles. Even under the palace torches."
The emperor gave a short breath that might have been amusement.
"Court envoys exaggerate."
"Yes."
They walked another several paces.
The corridor narrowed slightly where the palace wall curved inward.
Moonlight spilled faintly across the stone tiles from a nearby courtyard.
The advisor spoke again, his voice lower now.
"There is an old record in the imperial archives."
Mingyuan did not stop this time.
"What record."
"The Lingxue tribe."
The emperor's steps slowed by a fraction.
The advisor continued carefully.
"A tribe said to live in the mountains between Yanxi and the western valleys."
He folded his hands within his sleeves.
"Most historians dismiss the account as myth."
The lantern ahead flickered again.
"However," the advisor added quietly, "the record claims their blood possessed unusual properties."
Mingyuan's breathing seemed heavier in the silence that followed.
The advisor did not look at him.
He simply continued speaking as though reciting an old text.
"All injuries closed and illnesses healed quickly when their blood was ingested."
His voice grew softer.
"Some accounts mention emperors seeking them out for immortality."
They reached the edge of the corridor.
Beyond it lay a small open courtyard.
Moonlight rested across the stone path like pale frost.
Mingyuan finally stopped.
The movement was slight, but the eunuchs carrying lanterns halted instantly.
The emperor's gaze lingered on the courtyard pond where thin ice had begun forming along the edges.
Then he spoke.
"Those records," he said quietly.
"Where are they kept."
The advisor bowed deeply.
"In the western archive hall."
Mingyuan's fingers rested lightly against the jade ring on his thumb.
The ring turned slowly once.
"Bring them tomorrow."
The advisor's head lowered further.
"Yes, Your Majesty."