Chapter Two – Shadows Over the Pearl Palace
The streets outside the Pearl Palace pulsed with life. Lanterns swung from crimson archways, their warm glow reflecting off silk banners and polished jade tiles. Merchants shouted from the edges of the cobblestone roads, their voices weaving with the scents of roasted duck, sweet plum wine, and incense. Performers in painted masks danced for coins, and gamblers laughed over clattering dice beneath silk canopies.
To the people of the pleasure district, this was a night like any other.
Almost.
A little girl tugged on her mother's sleeve, her wide eyes fixed on the towering silhouette of the Pearl Palace. High above its curved golden roof, something moved a shape against the star-dusted sky, a shadow that didn't belong.
"Look, Mama!" she whispered.
But her mother pulled her away before she could say more. "Don't stare at that place," the woman scolded softly. "It's for people who bring shame on their family. And how many times have I told you not to stare."
The child cast one last glance upward. The shadow was gone.
Or so it seemed.
Far above, balanced on the edge of a tiled rooftop, a figure stood cloaked in black. The wind tugged at her robes as she gazed down at the glowing heart of the city. Her face was hidden beneath a dark veil, but her eyes sharp, unyielding glittered like jade in the moonlight.
She raised one gloved hand.
From the deeper dark behind her, four more figures stepped forward, silent as ghosts. Each wore the same symbol on their cloaks: a dragon encircled by seven stars, threads of silver glinting under the moon. Together, they stared down at the Pearl Palace, its jeweled windows glowing with decadent light.
The woman's hand dropped.
In an instant, the shadows melted into the night.
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Inside the Pearl Palace
The air was heavy with perfume and the soft strains of a pipa drifting from the hall. Liang Ming barely noticed the music as he swaggered into his private chamber, the pink-haired girl trailing behind him like a silent echo.
"Do you have a name?" he asked, voice thick with wine and desire.
She tilted her head, shook it slowly.
"Well then…" His lips curled into a grin. "I'll name you Crystal, because your eyes remind me of rare jewels."
She only smiled, the expression sweet as honey. "Thank you." Her voice was soft, delicate like silk slipping through fingers.
"Should I prepare a bath for you?" she asked, motioning toward the ornate bathing pool in the corner of the room. Steam coiled from its surface, perfumed with lotus blossoms and oil.
Liang Ming chuckled, already loosening his robe. "You read my mind."
While he sank into the warm water, she moved with effortless grace. She poured him liquor from the jade flask, her hands steady, her smile serene. He drained the cup in one gulp. She poured another for herself—and swallowed it in silence.
"Young Master," she murmured, kneeling at the edge of the bath, "freshen up… so we can begin."
He laughed, the sound echoing through the chamber. "You're eager."
From the low table nearby, she picked up a long-stemmed tobacco pipe carved from black lacquer, lighting it with a flick of her wrist before taking a slow, deliberate drag.
"You smoke?" He raised a brow, amused. "I never would've guessed."
"Of course you wouldn't."
Something in her tone made him glance at her. For the first time that night, unease prickled along his spine.
Her smile didn't waver. But her next words froze his blood.
"Oh, Young Master… you won't be leaving this room tonight."
He stiffened. Tried to rise from the bath but his body refused him. Panic clawed at his chest.
"What… what did you do to me?"
"I slipped paralyzing herbs into the water." Her voice was calm, almost tender, as if discussing the weather.
She rose to her feet, the soft pink fabric of her kimono whispering against her legs. From beneath it, she drew a small black purse and opened it, revealing the gleam of steel.
"Now…" Her eyes narrowed, though her smile never faltered. "Where are the children?"
His pulse thundered. "What children? I don't—"
"That's not an answer I like." She approached slowly, the knife catching the lantern light.
"Listen," he stammered, sweat pouring down his temple. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."
"Oh, but I think you do." Her voice dripped like poison-laced honey. "Liang Ming. Second son of the Liang family. A heavy drinker. An adulterous husband." She tilted her head. "And a child trafficker."
His eyes bulged.
"You sell them like coin," she continued, almost conversational. "So tell me, where are the children? Or shall I carve the answer from your flesh?"
The knife flashed.
Liang Ming screamed as the blade severed his finger.
"The warehouse!" he gasped, breath hitching. "I only deliver them to a warehouse! I swear!"
"Not good enough." Her eyes gleamed. "So those children are better off dead? That's what you think?"
"They get a better life!" he choked out desperately.
"Is that so?"
A new voice cut through the room like steel.
From the open window, a figure stood cloaked in black, the moon catching the silver emblem stitched into her chest a dragon wreathed in seven stars.
The blood drained from Liang Ming's face. He knew that mark. Everyone did.
"You… you're… Wausau…" His voice broke into a sob. "Please, let me go. I won't do it again, I swear—"
"If only the world could be fixed with apologies," the cloaked woman said coldly.
The pink-haired girl didn't hesitate. The blade plunged into his throat, silencing him forever.
She leaned close, her lips brushing his ear as his last breath rattled from his lungs.
"Don't worry," she whispered sweetly. "Your friends will join you soon."