The jet landed under Beijing's overcast sky, the ancient city humming with modern breath. Liam Routh stepped onto Chinese soil not as a fugitive or an adventurer—but as an author, a voice that had once stirred an entire generation with tales of forgotten dynasties and mystical mountains.
Crowds waited at the airport terminal, holding up books with his name embossed in gold: Dragon Over Ice, Beneath Jade Shadows, Letters to the Forbidden. Liam winced, unused to adoration in times of such deadly purpose.
"Liam! Liam!" Fans pushed forward, camera flashes popping like fireworks.
"I thought this was a secret mission," Voice muttered in his earpiece. "You wrote too many bestsellers."
Liam laughed awkwardly and signed a few books. "What can I say? China always fascinated me. This place... it has roots that curl under every step."
They slipped out the back exit with the help of a friend from his university days—Professor Li, an expert in Ming-era puzzles and one of the few who believed Liam's theories weren't complete fiction.
As they rode through Beijing's maze of concrete and history, Voice finally asked, "Why did you really start writing about China?"
Liam looked out the window.
"My dad was an archaeologist. Disappeared in the Taklamakan desert when I was seven. He left me his journal... pages of strange drawings and notes. Symbols just like the one the café stranger showed me."
"So this is personal."
"Always has been."
Voice went quiet.
The car stopped just before Tiananmen. Liam stepped out, and overhead, a dragon-shaped kite flew through the smog.
Ahead of them, the red walls of the Forbidden City stood like a riddle carved in time. Unmoving. Unbroken.
And buried somewhere within—Kael's name.
To be continued...