The rain had not stopped since the envoy from Xia left her chambers.
Their meeting — formal in gesture, edged in unspoken challenge — had ended with shallow smiles and the perfumed emptiness of diplomatic courtesies. He had spoken of peace, of winter trade, of avoiding the encampments swelling along the Qi–Xia border. But his eyes had measured her the way a swordsman weighs an unfamiliar blade — cautious, wary, calculating.
Now, two days later, his seat in the West Pavilion lay empty.
The herald's voice cut through the morning court like steel drawn in silence.
"The envoy of Xia, Lord An Xiu, was found slain at the foot of Willow Bridge. His guards scattered. His seal and treaty scrolls are missing."
The chamber froze. Even the torch flames seemed to lean forward to listen.
Lord Gao of the Southern Bureau rose slowly. "And yet," he said, "before his death, this envoy met privately with Minister Li Ziyan. The same night, he was seen in the company of a man named Wei — known to us not as a soldier of Qi, but as a former agent of Xia, long suspected of espionage within our walls."
Murmurs broke like wind through dry reeds.
Lord Gao's gaze sharpened. "The court must ask — is Minister Li Ziyan harboring a foreign spy? Was this death an accident of fate… or an act to provoke war between Qi and Xia?"
Ziyan's voice was steady. "Wei has been under my watch because he carried intelligence valuable to the Empire. His presence in my household was sanctioned."
"By whom?" Lord Gao pressed.
Ziyan's lips did not move. She did not look at the Emperor.
Silence in the court is a weapon. She let it stand.
The Emperor's hand lifted. "You will find him," he said, each word deliberate. "And you will bring him to me. If what Lord Gao says is true, Qi's honor stands on the edge of a blade."
When she left the hall, whispers followed like shadows. A spy in her care… A murdered envoy… The Vice Minister stirring war to climb higher…
She summoned her allies that night in her quarters. Outside, rain ran in silver rivers from the eaves.
Zhang Jinrui stood by the door, expression cut from stone.
Wen Yufei sat across from her, hood shadowing his face.
"Lord Gao's move is clear," Jinrui said. "If Wei is guilty, you hang beside him. If he's innocent, they'll still claim you harbored him knowing what he was."
"That's why we must reach him before they do," Ziyan said.
Yufei's voice was low. "Finding him may only lead you to another blade — one aimed at your father as much as you."
Her gaze fixed on him. "You've said this before. Why?"
He hesitated. "Because the first time Wei came into Qi, it was your father who allowed him to stay. Quietly. Without record."
Ziyan's breath tightened. "Why would he—"
"Ask him," Yufei said. "If you still trust what answer he'll give."
By dawn she stood in her father's study.
Minister Li did not look up from his brushwork. "You've come about Wei."
"You knew what he was."
"I know many things," he said calmly. "I also know that men like Wei can be useful until they aren't. The problem is not that you sheltered him. It is that you were seen sheltering him."
"You could clear my name."
"And tether my own to yours? Not when the charge is treason against Heaven's law." His tone was flat. "But I will tell you this — Wei has not yet left the capital. He hides among the dockside merchants. And he is not empty-handed."
"What does he carry?"
"Something written in Xia's own royal cord. Enough to hang you twice over if the court chooses to read it that way." He set down his brush. "I will not move for you this time, Ziyan. But neither will I stop you."
By evening, Jinrui's scouts had begun combing the dockside alleys. A Northern Garrison contact traced Wei's last path toward the river warehouses where smugglers often slipped unseen into the city. Yufei moved quietly among his own network, speaking with those who owed him old debts.
Still, the court tightened the noose. The Southern Bureau fanned rumors that Ziyan had ordered Wei to kill Lord An Xiu, knowing that Xia's retaliation would force Qi into open war — a war from which she could rise in power or die as a martyr.
On the third day, Lianhua entered her study.
"You've not slept," Lianhua said, setting tea beside her.
"There is no sleep until Wei is found."
"And if he's found with Xia's seal?"
Ziyan's eyes met hers. "Then I prove he carried it without my command."
For a heartbeat, something unreadable flickered in Lianhua's gaze. She bowed and withdrew without another word.
Before dawn on the fourth day, a sealed note reached Ziyan's desk.
From Zhang Jinrui.
They had found Wei.
Alive.
And in his possession — a silk-bound scroll marked with the imperial seal of Xia.