Wei knelt in the shadowed chamber, wrists bound, hair damp with river mist.
The torches along the wall burned low, throwing his face into sharp relief — thinner than she remembered, but with the same guarded eyes.
Ziyan dismissed the guards with a flick of her sleeve. When the door closed, silence swelled between them like a held breath.
"You've gone to ground for weeks," she said. "And when you surface, it's with Xia's imperial seal in your possession."
Wei's mouth twitched, halfway between a smile and a grimace. "Better my hands than theirs."
"Whose?"
"The ones who planned this from the start." His gaze flicked toward the door. "Your father among them."
Ziyan's fingers stilled on the table. "You will explain."
Wei exhaled, shoulders sinking. "When I first came to Qi, it wasn't as a fugitive. Minister Li brought me in himself — a ghost from Xia to serve as his shadow in the border councils. I smuggled reports, diverted grain shipments, even passed forged orders that weakened Xia's supply lines. It was clean, quiet work… until your father changed his game."
Ziyan's voice cooled. "What game?"
Wei's eyes met hers. "He began planting seeds for a war he could control. Small slights, twisted reports, enough to provoke without breaking. This envoy — An Xiu — was one of the few in Xia who still pushed for peace. His death would tip the balance toward blood."
Ziyan's jaw tightened. "And you were meant to kill him?"
"No," Wei said sharply. "I was meant to deliver a letter forged with Xia's seal — proof of their insult to Qi. That would have been enough to start the drums without spilling noble blood. But someone else moved first. Someone inside your own circle. The blade fell before I could stop it."
Ziyan studied him. "Then why run?"
"Because your father knew I'd try to find you. And he can't have you hearing how long he's been feeding this war." His voice lowered. "He's not just building power in Qi. He's shaping both sides of the battlefield."
Her pulse was steady, but her fingers curled over the table's edge. "You should have told me sooner."
Wei's expression was unreadable. "I didn't want this to go this far. I thought I could keep it quiet, cut the root before it spread. But the traitor moved faster."
Ziyan's gaze sharpened. "You know who it is?"
Wei hesitated. "I can guess. But my guess will cost you more than my silence."
"That's my choice to make."
He shook his head. "Not yet. Let me disappear again. I can still pull at the threads unseen. You… you can't move without eyes on you."
Ziyan rose and walked to the window. Outside, the moonlight silvered the courtyard stones, serene as still water hiding sharp rocks beneath.
"You've already told me enough," she said.
Wei's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
She turned back, the faintest smile ghosting her lips. "I know where to cast the net now."
By dawn, Wei was gone — spirited away by Zhang Jinrui's men to a safehouse beyond the eastern canal. Only Jinrui and Wen Yufei knew the location, and they gave their word it would remain so.
That evening, Ziyan gathered her closest allies in her private study. The rain had stopped, but the air still smelled of wet stone and bamboo.
Jinrui stood with his arms folded, leaning against the lattice wall.
Wen Yufei poured himself tea with a soldier's precision, each movement quiet but deliberate.
Li Qiang paced near the door, restless as a caged wolf.
Ziyan set a map of the capital on the table, her brush hovering above it.
"The court believes I harbor a Xia spy who murdered their envoy," she said. "They will watch every step I take until they can prove it."
"So you mean to clear your name by finding the real killer," Li Qiang said.
"No," Ziyan replied. "I mean to let the killer reveal themselves."
Jinrui's eyes narrowed. "A trap."
"A banquet," Ziyan corrected. "Three nights from now, the Grand Secretariat hosts a feast in honor of the Mid-Autumn rites. Every minister, every informant, and every snake in silk will be there. Including the one who used Wei's name to drive a blade into An Xiu's throat."
Wen Yufei studied her over the rim of his cup. "And what makes you certain they will show their hand?"
"Because I will give them reason to think I've uncovered nothing — and then offer them something they can't resist taking."
Li Qiang stopped pacing. "What?"
Ziyan dipped her brush into ink and marked a point on the map — the West Pavilion, where envoys and foreign dignitaries were received.
"An unguarded chest," she said. "Locked, of course, and said to hold the surviving correspondence between Qi and An Xiu. In truth, it will be blank parchment — but the seal will be real. The one who moves to steal it will be the one who cannot let peace survive."
Jinrui gave a short, humorless laugh. "And you'll be waiting for them."
Ziyan's smile was cool. "In still water, even a single ripple can be seen."
When the meeting ended, the others filed out — all but Wen Yufei.
He lingered in the doorway, voice low. "You know who it is already."
Ziyan didn't turn. "I know enough."
"And you won't tell me."
"Not yet," she said. "Knowing too soon might make you act before the blade is ready."
He was silent for a moment, then said, "Be careful. Whoever it is — they've been close enough to strike without you feeling the wind."
When the door shut behind him, Ziyan let her hand rest over the phoenix mark hidden beneath her sleeve.
It was warm again.