"Your Majesty—news from the west gate—Ren himself—he's trying to leave the city with a sealed cart and a priest's banner—"
The runner barely finished before my cup was already back on the table. "How many men," I asked.
"Two guards," he stammered. "Dressed plain. The banner carries a shrine's seal. They claim the cart holds offerings."
"Offerings don't have wheels strong enough to bear coin," Mingyu said beside me, voice quiet as ice.
I stood. The porridge had gone cold, but hunger had gone colder. "Intercept. Not at the gate. At the turn before it. If the banner is real, the shrine can fetch it. If it's false, I want Ren and his priest untangled before their wheels touch daylight."
Yaozu was already moving, his shadow cutting the air.
