A pair of hands grabbed both my arms before I could react.
"Hey, what are you doin—"
My voice cut off as something hard slammed into the side of my head. A sharp pain exploded behind my eyes, and then—nothing.
Blank.
---
When I came to, everything felt too heavy. My body, my head, even my eyelids. For a moment, I wanted to sink back into whatever darkness I'd been in. At least it didn't hurt there.
I forced my eyes open. My vision was hazy, but the outlines of a small, cramped room slowly came into focus.
Stone walls. A single steel door. And a narrow window high on one side, small enough to fit a bird but not a person.
Great. Trapped.
The air was damp and smelled faintly of old flour. I got up and looked around, pacing slowly. The place felt eerily familiar.
That door… those walls…
Then it hit me. These were storehouses. The same kind I'd passed earlier when I was looking for Yixuan's workstation.
So I'm still in the East Wing? Fantastic.
The room was empty except for one thing, a bag of flour dumped in the corner, soaked through with water.
When I looked up, I saw a hole in the roof, moonlight trickling through it. Yesterday's rain must've leaked in from there.
That also meant no servant would come here. No supplies, no inspections. Just me and a moldy bag of flour.
The door was solid steel. No chance of breaking through. The walls were stone and smooth, no cracks, no weak spots.
I sighed. My only hope was that whoever locked me up would eventually come back to bring food.
But then again… what if they didn't plan on keeping me alive?
I pushed that thought away before it could get itself deeper.
Walking over to the tiny window, I peered outside. Cold wind blew against my face. In the pale light, I could see rows of other storehouses nearby, their roofs glistening faintly with leftover rain.
Yes, this was definitely the same area I had wandered through earlier.
"You know you're not supposed to look out that long, right?"
The voice came so suddenly that I jumped back.
"Who's there?" I hissed.
"Don't worry! I'm just here to keep watch before you're moved again!"
The voice was high-pitched. A child's voice.
Carefully, I stepped toward the window again, and there he was. A little boy, maybe eight or nine, standing right outside with a torch that looked far too big for him.
"Hello! I'm Anle!" he chirped. "I heard your name is Aryan, and you're not from here! Where are you from—"
"Why is a child like you here at night?" I snapped before I could stop myself.
He flinched, taking a step back. "I–I'm supposed to make sure a traitor like you doesn't escape!"
Right. Of course. The wonderful Bharat-China tension again. Apparently, I was still considered a spy.
But that raised a bigger question—who sent this kid to guard me?
I tried to steady my voice. "Who told you to keep watch here? Who's your leader?"
"Hmph! Wouldn't you like to know?" He crossed his arms, clearly proud of himself.
This kid… he was almost like Yichen. The same stubborn tone.
"If you tell me," I said, lowering my voice, "I'll give you whatever you want."
"Really? Anything?" His eyes widened, curious. "Then I'll tell you, it's—"
I braced myself, expecting him to say Commander Wei Fang's name, confirming what I'd suspected all along.
"—Sir Wei Lie! Now what'll you give me?"
I blinked. "Wait. Who?"
"Sir Wei Lie! That's my boss! Now tell me what I get!"
My mind reeled. Wei Lie. That name… it sounded familiar. I'd definitely heard it before, somewhere around Gao Ming's residence or during one of the ceremonies.
"What's his position?" I asked quickly.
"Hey, no more questions unless you promise me something!" he said smugly.
"Alright, alright," I sighed. "I'll get you a wooden sword. Or candy. Whichever you prefer—once I'm out of here, obviously."
He grinned, clearly pleased. "Deal! He's a colonel! Colonel Wei Lie!"
Colonel Wei Lie.
Oh, right. That Wei Lie. One of the officers who'd been against me joining the Chief Strategists in the first place. I'd nearly been placed under him instead of Gao Ming.
So he was behind this. Not Wei Fang.
Looks like he was a victim of wrong accusations.
A small, unexpected relief flickered through me—until another voice thundered outside.
"Hey! Why are you talking to the prisoner?"
SHOVE.
The little boy yelped as a large hand pushed him hard to the ground.
Blood rushed to my head. My fists clenched. Who the hell did this man think he was, shoving an innocent child like that? He wasn't even In his way?!
Before I could say a word, the sound of rattling keys echoed through the door.
The lock clicked.
The door burst open, and a rough-looking man stood there, his face shadowed under the torchlight.
"You're coming with me," he barked, grabbing my arm and yanking me forward.
I wanted to help Anle up, but that would only make things worse for him. So I stayed quiet and let the man drag me out.
His grip was iron. I could feel his nails digging into my sleeve as he pushed me along a series of narrow, winding paths.
Every turn looked the same—cold stone walls, flickering torches, echoing footsteps.
My head still ached from the earlier hit, but I forced myself to stay alert.
Then, suddenly, the path opened up—and I froze.
I knew this place.
The walls. The scent of oil and metal. The faint sound of hammers from a distance.
Yixuan's workstation.
What was I doing here?
The man shoved me again, his voice sharp. "Move."
My thoughts spiraled. Was Yixuan part of this? Did he set me up?
Then another realization hit me, the voice I'd heard before I blacked out, the one that ordered them to take me… it was the same one that once yelled that he wasn't "good enough for his younger brother."
Now it made sense. Horrible, nauseating sense.
The man pushed the large wooden doors open and threw me inside.
I hit the ground hard. Dust filling my mouth as I struggled up.
"Welcome to your new home, you little bitch."