I. A Pigeon and a Sesame Cake in the Southern City

  The twenty-second day of the twelfth month. South of Luoyang city.

  Li Yan squatted beneath a crumbling eaves, a sesame cake pinched between his fingers, chewing slowly and deliberately. He had changed into a patched brown short jacket, his hair a wild mess, his face smeared with stove ash—indistinguishable from the desperate refugees eking out an existence all around him.

  "The Wang Erniu identity is finished," he muttered between bites. "Yuan Shao's got that one filed away for sure. Need a new name... what shall it be? Zhang San? Too common. Li Si? Even more so."

  As he pondered, a grey pigeon fluttered down and landed at the mouth of a nearby alley. A small bamboo tube was bound to its leg.

  Li Yan's eyes lit up. He stuffed the last of the cake into his mouth, brushed off his hands, and ambled over. The pigeon showed no fear, tilting its head to regard him. He removed the tube and shook out a tiny strip of paper.

  On it was a single line in elegant script: "Travel three hundred li west; an old acquaintance awaits."

  The handwriting was Shopkeeper Sun's. But beside it was a crudely drawn wine jug—his master's mark. The old drunkard and Shopkeeper Sun had agreed long ago: if urgent matters required communication but could not be stated plainly, draw a wine jug.

  "Three hundred li..." Li Yan calculated. "That's about as far as Hangu Pass. Master's waiting for me at Hangu Pass?"

  He crumpled the paper and scattered the fragments into a nearby drainage ditch. The pigeon cooed twice and flew away.

  Li Yan rose, dusted himself off, and headed deeper into the southern city. He needed to visit the Hall of Benevolent Healing one more time, to see if Shopkeeper Sun had left anything else.

  The Hall was shuttered and sealed. A strip of paper plastered across the door bore the seal of the Colonel-Director of the Capital's office—Yuan Shao's handiwork. But the seal was carelessly applied, its corners already curling.

  Li Yan circled to the rear courtyard and vaulted the wall. The yard was a shambles: medicine cabinets overturned, drying baskets scattered, medicinal herbs strewn everywhere.

  "Thoroughly ransacked," he observed. He picked his way to the woodshed with practiced ease.

  In a corner of the shed, firewood was stacked. Li Yan removed the bottom layer, revealing a loose floor tile. He pried it up; beneath lay an oilcloth bundle.

  Inside the bundle were several items: a small pouch of gold zhu coins, perhaps twenty or thirty; a hand-copied Compendium of Herbs; and a letter.

  The letter was from Shopkeeper Sun:

  "Boy, when you read this, I'll be gone. I'm off to Nanyang—an old friend there runs an apothecary and needs a consulting physician. By the time you find this, you've likely stirred up a hornet's nest. I'll keep it brief: three pieces of advice.

  First: leave immediately. Luoyang is no place to linger.

  Second: that old drunkard, your master, is waiting for you at the 'Joyful Arrival Inn' west of Hangu Pass. He says he has urgent matters to tell you.

  Third: that Cui family girl... she's a good sort. But you two aren't meant for the same road. Best to let go of any fanciful notions—for both your sakes.

  Take the money. Take the book. Your medical skills are barely passable; don't embarrass me out there.

  Sun the Seventh, night of the twenty-first, La month."

  Li Yan read the letter, his nose stinging. The old fellow, even in departure, still thought of him.

  He tucked the gold into his robe, stuffed the Compendium into his pack, then carefully reburied the oilcloth, smoothed the earth, and replaced the firewood.

  He was about to leave when sounds came from the front hall.

  Someone had entered.

  Li Yan slipped behind the woodpile and held his breath.

  Light footsteps—more than one person. Then the sound of the seal being torn, the door pushed open.

  "Search thoroughly. The Commandant's orders: not an inch overlooked." A young man's voice.

  "Captain, this place has been turned over eight hundred times already. What could possibly be left?" Another voice, complaining.

  "You heard the order. Search. Less chatter!"

  Through a gap in the firewood, Li Yan saw two soldiers in Northern Army uniforms enter the courtyard. The leader was a young officer in his twenties, handsome features but sharp eyes. Behind him trudged a portly veteran.

  They began their search. The young officer was meticulous, tapping even the cracks in the walls. The veteran was perfunctory, giving everything a cursory glance.

  "Captain, why is the Commandant so set on searching this place?" the veteran asked. "It's just an apothecary, isn't it?"

  "You understand nothing." The young officer didn't look up. "The shopkeeper here had ties to that 'Wang Erniu' who protected the prince. The Commandant suspects Wang Erniu wasn't really Western Garden Army at all."

  Li Yan's heart tightened. Yuan Shao's suspicions were confirmed.

  "But didn't Wang Erniu perform meritorious service? The Commandant even rewarded him."

  "Rewards are rewards; investigation is investigation." The young officer reached the woodshed door and peered inside.

  Li Yan shrank deeper into the shadows.

  The officer's gaze lingered on the woodpile for a moment, but he didn't enter. He turned away. "Nothing here. Let's check elsewhere."

  They left. Li Yan waited until the footsteps faded, then emerged from behind the woodpile, wiping cold sweat from his brow.

  "Well, even the Hall of Benevolent Healing isn't safe anymore." He vaulted the wall and vanished.

  II. A Pigeon from Qinghe

  The twenty-fifth day of the twelfth month. The ancestral residence of the Cui clan, Qinghe Commandery.

  Cui Yan stood at the study window, watching the fine snow drift down. Qinghe was colder than Luoyang; the snow fell earlier. Several Wintersweet trees in the courtyard had burst into bloom, golden-yellow blossoms vivid against the white.

  Qingwu entered with hot tea. "Young Mistress, drink something warm."

  Cui Yan accepted the cup but only held it, warming her hands.

  "Young Mistress is still thinking of Luoyang?" Qingwu ventured softly.

  "What use is thinking?" Cui Yan's tone was flat. "What's done is done. We look ahead."

  Yet despite her words, images from that day at the altar kept surfacing: Li Yan shielding Prince Xie, fighting through the smoke; Yuan Shao standing above, his gaze cold; Zhang Rang fallen in a pool of blood, eyes staring...

  And at the Pavilion of Parting, Li Yan's parting words: "Next time we meet, I'll treat you to tea."

  "Qingwu," she asked abruptly, "did you release the pigeon?"

  "Yes, Young Mistress. To that alley mouth south of Luoyang, as you instructed." Qingwu hesitated. "But, Young Mistress, will Master Li really go there? He's clever; he knows Luoyang is dangerous now. He's probably already left."

  "He'll go." Cui Yan said. "He always keeps his promises."

  This much she knew of Li Yan. He seemed carefree and spontaneous, but beneath that, he valued trust and honour above all.

  A knock came at the door. Cui Fu entered. "Young Mistress, Han Fu has sent an envoy."

  "Show him to the flower hall. I'll be there directly."

  Cui Yan set down her cup, straightened her robes, and left the study. She was no longer just Cui Yan; she was the acting head of the Cui clan in Qinghe. Every move she made affected the family's fortunes.

  In the flower hall sat a scholarly man in his forties, a strategist in the employ of Han Fu, Governor of Ji Province. He rose as Cui Yan entered and bowed. "Lady Cui."

  "Master Tian, no need for formality. Please, sit." Cui Yan took the host seat. "How has Governor Han been of late?"

  "Thanks to your ladyship's concern, the Governor is well." The strategist smiled. "When the Governor learned you had returned to Qinghe, he specially instructed me to deliver some local products, a small token of his esteem."

  He clapped his hands. Servants carried in several chests and opened them. Inside were silks, medicinal herbs, and a few jade pieces.

  Cui Yan glanced over them, then smiled. "Governor Han is too kind. Qingwu, accept them."

  After Qingwu had the chests removed, the strategist lowered his voice. "My lady, the Governor also had a few words for me to convey."

  "Please speak."

  "The Governor has heard of the events in Luoyang. Yuan Shao's actions were extensive—not only did he purge the eunuchs, but he also absorbed considerable power in the process. The Governor worries... that Yuan Shao's next move may target Ji Province."

  Cui Yan's mind stirred. Han Fu was testing the waters. Yuan Shao, now Colonel-Director of the Capital controlling the region around Luoyang, might indeed set his sights on Ji Province next.

  "Master Tian worries overmuch." Cui Yan's tone was calm. "Commandant Yuan is currently occupied with consolidating Luoyang. He has no energy to scheme against Ji Province. Moreover, Governor Han holds the rich lands of Ji, with ample troops and provisions. Commandant Yuan would not provoke him lightly."

  The words were watertight: neither acknowledging Yuan Shao's ambitions nor denying Han Fu's strength.

  The strategist looked at her keenly. "With your ladyship's reassurance, the Governor can rest easier. He also said that if you have any needs while in Qinghe, you need only ask. The Han and Cui families have been close for generations; we should look after one another."

  "Thank Governor Han for me." Cui Yan rose. "Master Tian has travelled far. Please stay a few days as our guest, and let me fulfil the duties of a host."

  "Then I shall impose upon your hospitality."

  After seeing the strategist out, Cui Yan returned to the study, her expression darkening.

  Han Fu was courting her—or rather, courting the Cui clan. Yuan Shao's growing power threatened him; he needed allies.

  And she needed to weigh her options. The Cui clan currently had an arrangement with Yuan Shao, but one could not place all eggs in a single basket. Han Fu offered a fallback, but Han Fu was indecisive; could he be relied upon?

  "Young Mistress," Qingwu whispered, "should we align with Governor Han?"

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  "We align with no one." Cui Yan said. "The Cui clan aligns only with itself."

  She walked to the desk, spread paper, and prepared to write to Li Yan. She lifted the brush—but what to write?

  News of Qinghe? He likely wouldn't be interested. Court intrigues? He'd only scoff. Her... concerns?

  The brush hovered over the paper for a long moment. Finally, she set down eight characters: "The Guanzhong region is fraught with peril. Take care. If you encounter difficulties, you may come to Qinghe."

  She stared at the words, then crumpled the paper and tossed it into the charcoal brazier. Flames leaped, consuming it swiftly.

  She spread a fresh sheet and wrote the same eight words again.

  "Qingwu, have the pigeon deliver this."

  "Young Mistress, to the same alley mouth?"

  "Yes." Cui Yan paused. "Add one more line... say: I remember the tea. I await his return to drink it."

  Qingwu suppressed a smile. "Yes, Young Mistress."

  The pigeon fluttered southward. Cui Yan stood at the window, watching it disappear into the veil of snow. An inexplicable melancholy settled in her heart.

  III. Gold in a Dried Well

  The night of the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth month.

  Jian Shuo's mansion was now a ruin. The Northern Army's fire had raged most of the night, consuming all that could burn. Only blackened walls and broken pillars remained.

  Li Yan crouched atop the rear courtyard wall, surveying the scene below. He clicked his tongue. "Thorough. Even the earth's half-burnt."

  He had scouted the location by daylight, noting that while the Northern Army had searched thoroughly, they had concentrated on the front courtyard and study. The rear courtyard, hardest hit by the fire, had been largely ignored.

  Men like Jian Shuo didn't hide things in obvious places. The study undoubtedly had hidden compartments, but those had long been cleared by Yuan Shao's people. What of other spots?

  Li Yan dropped from the wall, landing silently. The rear courtyard had once been a small garden; now only scorched earth remained. A rockery had collapsed. A pond had dried up. A few fire-blackened tree stumps stood forlorn.

  He examined the rockery first. Fire had rendered it brittle; it crumbled at a touch. Nothing inside.

  Then the pond. The bottom was thick with ash. He poked through it with a branch, finding only a few deformed copper coins.

  "Nothing at all?" Li Yan scratched his head.

  As he pondered, his foot slipped into a depression. Small, covered with ash—easily overlooked.

  He crouched and brushed away the ash. Beneath was a dried well, its mouth sealed with a stone slab. The slab was cracked.

  Promising.

  Li Yan heaved the slab aside and peered down. The well was deep, pitch black, but something glinted faintly at the bottom.

  He took out his firestarter, lit it, and lowered it on a cord. The flame swayed, illuminating the bottom—several chests, and scattered... gold ingots?

  Li Yan's eyes gleamed. He descended using the footholds built into the well wall—some loose, but serviceable.

  At the bottom, three wooden chests sat neatly arranged. One had its lid burnt through, revealing gold ingots within—yellow and gleaming in the firelight.

  "Good heavens." Li Yan hefted an ingot. "Heavy. High purity."

  He opened the other two chests. One contained jewellery and jade. The other held scrolls of documents.

  Jewellery he didn't understand, but documents were worth examining. He unrolled one—Jian Shuo's private accounts, recording years of embezzled military funds. The sums were staggering.

  Another scroll contained correspondence between Jian Shuo and various court officials. Li Yan skimmed—mostly exchanges of favours, mutual cover-ups. Nothing new.

  He picked up the final scroll.

  This one was wrapped tightly in oilcloth. When he unrolled it, his brow furrowed.

  Copies of secret letters between Jian Shuo and "a certain high court official." The letters mentioned "the matter of the jade tokens can be blamed on Dou Wu's remnants," "settling accounts after the La month," and "Lord Liu's grand plan, in which I shall render full assistance."

  The seal at the end was blurred, but the character was unmistakably Liu.

  Liu? There were many high officials surnamed Liu at court—imperial clansmen among them. Who could it be?

  Li Yan tucked the scroll into his robe and grabbed a few gold ingots. He left the jewellery—too conspicuous, hard to dispose of.

  He was about to leave when sounds came from the well mouth.

  Someone was coming.

  Li Yan immediately extinguished his light and pressed himself against the wall, deep in shadow.

  The light at the well mouth was blocked. Someone peered down.

  "Captain! There's a well here!"

  That young officer's voice from the daytime.

  "Go down and check."

  A rope descended. A soldier slid down. Li Yan held his breath, hiding behind the chests.

  The soldier landed, lit a torch, and looked around. The flame flickered past; Li Yan saw the man's face—the portly veteran.

  The veteran spotted the gold ingots, his eyes going wide. "Captain! Treasure down here!"

  "What treasure?" the young officer called from above.

  "Gold... gold ingots! And jewellery!"

  "Bring it up!"

  The veteran reached for a chest—then felt cold steel at his throat. Li Yan's short knife.

  "Not a sound." Li Yan's voice was low.

  The veteran's legs turned to jelly. "Spare... spare me, good sir..."

  "How many up there?"

  "Just... just the Captain..."

  Li Yan considered, then withdrew the knife. He took two gold ingots from his robe and pressed them into the veteran's hand. "Brother, do me a favour. You tell him there were only two chests down here—and you kept the jewellery chest for yourself. These two ingots are yours. The chest up top is the Captain's. Deal?"

  The veteran clutched the gold, swallowing hard. "But... if the Captain finds out..."

  "How will he find out if you don't tell him?" Li Yan grinned. "Besides, he's pocketing the gold, you're pocketing the jewellery. You're in this together—he can't very well report you, can he?"

  The veteran considered. It made sense. He gritted his teeth. "Alright! I'll do it!"

  Li Yan clapped his shoulder. "Good man. Haul the jewellery chest up. Carefully now."

  The veteran bound the jewellery chest and called up, "Captain! Haul away!"

  The chest rose. The young officer opened it, his eyes gleaming. "Gods above, that old villain Jian Shuo hid quite a stash."

  "Captain, there's another chest down here. Too heavy—I can't lift it alone." The veteran called.

  "Wait there. I'm coming down."

  The young officer descended. When he saw the chest of gold, his breath quickened.

  "Quick! Haul it up!" He directed the veteran.

  Together they bound the gold chest and hauled it up. Li Yan, taking advantage of their distraction, quietly climbed the rope, slipped out of the well, and vaulted the wall.

  He had just landed when the veteran's cry came from the well: "Captain! There's a letter here!"

  "What letter? Let me see... This is... Quickly! Up! Report to the Commandant immediately!"

  Li Yan's heart sank. Damn. He'd forgotten the scroll!

  But it was too late now. He turned and fled into the night.

  IV. Verbal Sparring in a Teahouse

  Noon, the twenty-seventh day of the twelfth month.

  Li Yan sat in a private room on the second floor of a teahouse in the Western Market, sipping tea slowly. It was ordinary jasmine tea, a bit astringent, but he savoured it.

  The door opened. Yuan Shao entered.

  He still wore that veneer of cultured refinement, dressed in plain robes like a travelling scholar. But his eyes were sharp as blades.

  "Master Li." Yuan Shao sat across from him. "My apologies for keeping you waiting."

  "Commandant Yuan is too kind." Li Yan poured him tea. "Try this. The jasmine here isn't bad—a bit astringent, needs steeping."

  Yuan Shao accepted the cup but didn't drink. "Master Li has refined tastes. Luoyang is in chaos, yet you still find leisure to appreciate tea."

  "Chaos for you lot. I'm just a commoner—I eat when I'm hungry, drink when I'm thirsty." Li Yan smiled.

  "A commoner?" Yuan Shao smiled too. "Which commoner emerges unscathed from the altar, and comes and goes as he pleases from a dried well in Jian Shuo's mansion?"

  Li Yan's heart jolted, but his expression remained unchanged. "Commandant speaks in riddles. I don't understand."

  "Don't understand?" Yuan Shao drew a scroll from his sleeve and placed it on the table. "Surely Master Li recognizes this."

  It was the copy of the secret letters.

  Li Yan glanced at it and grinned. "Nice handwriting. Who wrote it?"

  "Master Li." Yuan Shao's smile faded. "Let's dispense with pretences. Where you obtained this letter, who 'Lord Liu' refers to—we both know. I'm not here to interrogate you. I'm here to discuss cooperation."

  "Cooperation?" Li Yan raised an eyebrow. "What could the Commandant possibly want to cooperate with a commoner like me about?"

  "Because you're clever." Yuan Shao leaned forward. "Clever, capable, and not greedy. Such people are rare."

  "The Commandant flatters me." Li Yan drank his tea. "But I have nothing to offer. I can't lead troops, I can't govern a state—just a few clumsy martial skills. I'd only get in your way."

  "You can investigate." Yuan Shao's gaze was fixed on him. "From the floating corpse case to the assassination at the sacrifice—you investigated brilliantly. Unorthodox methods, but effective."

  Li Yan was silent.

  "Master Li." Yuan Shao's voice softened. "I know what you and Lady Cui were investigating. The old Dou Wu case. The mystery of the jade tokens. And those... three surviving court officials. These waters run deep. Wade in alone, and you'll drown."

  "The Commandant's meaning?"

  "Work for me." Yuan Shao said. "I'll investigate the court. You investigate the Jianghu. The truth you seek—I can give it to you. The people you want to protect—I can help protect them."

  "And the price?"

  "The price is," Yuan Shao spoke each word distinctly, "everything you discover—you show me first."

  Li Yan laughed. "Commandant, you want me to be your eyes."

  "Something like that."

  Li Yan set down his cup and looked at Yuan Shao. "Commandant, let me ask you something."

  "Speak."

  "Why do you investigate these matters? To exonerate Dou Wu? To expose those who harmed him? Or... for yourself?"

  Yuan Shao was silent a moment. "For the realm."

  "Big words." Li Yan shook his head. "Commandant, I'm a small man. I don't understand 'the realm.' I only know that I investigate to give the dead their due—not to be a pawn for the living."

  "You're not afraid I'll kill you?" Yuan Shao's eyes chilled.

  "Afraid, of course." Li Yan grinned. "But you won't kill me now. If you were going to, you'd have done it already. You wouldn't wait until today."

  Yuan Shao stared at him for a long moment, then laughed abruptly. "Li Yan, Li Yan. Just as Lady Cui said: naively ridiculous, yet terrifyingly clever."

  He drew a token from his robe and placed it on the table. "An 'Adviser to the Yuan Clan' token. Take it. If you encounter trouble outside Luoyang, you can show it. But..." He paused. "It's also a marker. Carry it, and I'll remember the favour—and know your whereabouts."

  Li Yan picked up the token. Bronze, finely crafted, engraved with the character Yuan.

  "The Commandant is letting me go?"

  "What else can I do?" Yuan Shao rose. "Kill you? Lady Cui would be displeased. Imprison you? Men like you can't be imprisoned. Better to let you go. Perhaps you'll prove useful someday."

  He reached the door, then turned. "One last question, Master Li. Who, in your view, should govern this realm?"

  Li Yan considered, then answered seriously: "Whoever can fill the people's bellies."

  Yuan Shao blinked, then laughed heartily. "Well said! Well said! A pity—in this age, filling bellies isn't enough."

  He pushed through the door and departed.

  Li Yan sat alone, looking at the token in his hand. He smiled bitterly. "A protective talisman and a death warrant, all in one."

  He tucked the token into his robe, rose, paid for the tea, and left.

  V. Farewell at the Western Pavilion

  Morning of the twenty-eighth day of the twelfth month.

  Li Yan rode a scrawny horse slowly toward the western outskirts. He had bought the horse at the livestock market the previous night—five gold ingots, thin but spirited, decent gait.

  West of the city stood a pavilion, the traditional place of farewells. When he arrived, someone was already there.

  Cui Yan stood within the pavilion, dressed in simple, elegant pale blue, a silver-fox cloak over her shoulders, her hair coiled without ornament. Qingwu waited outside, guarding an unremarkable carriage.

  "You came." Cui Yan turned to face him.

  "I came." Li Yan dismounted and tethered his horse to a pavilion pillar. "Lady Cui, why have you returned? I thought you'd gone to Qinghe."

  "Matters to attend to." She looked at him. "You're leaving?"

  "Yes. To Guanzhong. To see my master."

  Silence stretched between them. The wind howled beyond the pavilion, stirring fallen leaves.

  Li Yan spoke first. He took a cloth bundle from his robe and offered it to her. "For you."

  Cui Yan accepted it and opened it. Five gold ingots.

  "This is..."

  "Lifted from Jian Shuo's." Li Yan grinned. "Ill-gotten gains, anyway. Take it—use it for congee for the refugees. Consider it my contribution."

  Cui Yan held the gold. It was heavy. She was silent a moment, then drew a small porcelain vial and a scroll from her sleeve.

  "Antidote powder from the Green Satchel—an improved version of Shopkeeper Sun's formula. It counteracts most poisons. Here's the recipe." She pressed them into Li Yan's hands. "The Jianghu is perilous. You'll have use for it."

  Li Yan accepted them. The vial was warm to the touch, the scroll soft. He smiled, then unclasped the jade pendant from his neck and offered it back to her. "Returning this. Too valuable—a wanderer like me might lose it."

  Cui Yan didn't take it. She only looked at him.

  Her gaze made him uncomfortable. He scratched his head. "Shall I... keep it safe for you?"

  "No need to return it." Cui Yan drew another pendant from her robe—a simple jade peace pendant, strung on red cord. "Wear this instead. If you lose it, it won't be a great loss."

  Li Yan accepted the pendant. It was warm, not top-quality jade, but finely carved.

  "Thank you." He hung it around his neck, next to his skin.

  Another silence.

  "Lady Cui," Li Yan said abruptly, "be careful with Yuan Shao. That man... his mind runs too deep."

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

  "True." Li Yan smiled. "But luck's always favoured me."

  He paused, then asked: "Will you really cooperate with him?"

  "It's not cooperation. It's mutual exploitation." Cui Yan's tone was flat. "He needs the Cui clan's name and resources. The Cui clan needs his protection and room to develop. We each take what we need."

  "And if... if one day he asks you to do something against your conscience?"

  Cui Yan was silent a long moment. Then she said softly: "Then it depends on what it is. Some lines cannot be crossed."

  Li Yan looked at her and suddenly smiled. "Lady Cui, I've always wondered—why do you, a woman, involve yourself in such matters? Wouldn't a quiet life, a family, be better?"

  "A quiet life? A family?" Cui Yan's smile was bitter. "Li Yan, do you know how my mother died?"

  Li Yan was taken aback.

  "She died of illness." Cui Yan gazed out of the pavilion. "But not ordinary illness. It was worry—constant worry for our family's future, watching my father walk on eggshells at court, until her heart gave out. I was fourteen. On her deathbed, she held my hand and said: 'Yan'er, a daughter of the Cui clan cannot be merely an ornament.'"

  She turned back to face him. "So I must strive, must fight, to ensure the Cui clan survives this chaotic age—and thrives. That is my fate."

  Li Yan's heart was shaken. He suddenly understood why Cui Yan was always so calm, so rational, so... weary.

  "Forgive me," he said quietly. "I shouldn't have asked."

  "It's nothing." Cui Yan shook her head. "And you? What will you do now? Truly investigate this 'Lord Liu'?"

  "I'll see where the road takes me." Li Yan said. "But I won't go directly. Too dangerous. I'll see my master first, then... wander."

  "And if the truth you uncover is cruel?" Cui Yan asked. "Crueler than you can bear?"

  Li Yan considered, then answered earnestly: "Cruel or not, it must be known. Otherwise, those who died—Zhao Wu, Chen Xu, the innocents at the altar—died for nothing. At the very least, I must know why they died."

  Cui Yan looked at him, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. Suddenly, she stepped forward and embraced him.

  It was a light embrace, brief—over in an instant.

  "Return alive," she whispered.

  Li Yan stood stunned. When he recovered, Cui Yan was already walking toward her carriage.

  "Lady Cui!" he called.

  She turned.

  "I remember the tea!" Li Yan grinned. "The finest tea!"

  Cui Yan smiled—a genuine smile this time. "I await it."

  She mounted the carriage. Qingwu snapped the reins. The wheels turned, carrying her westward.

  Li Yan stood in the pavilion, watching until the carriage dwindled to a speck and vanished.

  He touched the peace pendant at his neck, then the satchel of antidote powder in his robe. A hollow ache settled in his chest.

  "Farewell," he murmured.

  He untethered his horse and mounted. The animal snorted and set off at a walk—northwestward.

  Beyond the pavilion, the wind still howled, whipping dust across the plain.

  The pavilion stood empty, holding only the echo of parting.