In the moon-drenched stillness of my private courtyard, Xiao Qi rushed to meet us, his face pale with a tension that broke into palpable relief upon seeing us unharmed. But my attention was fixed on the girl beside me. In the lantern light, Xiao Kai was tense. The professional calm she had maintained in the Jade Grotto was evaporating. Her hands were clenched into white-knuckled fists at her sides, and her breathing, though silent, was a tightly controlled measure against the grief and hatred that burned in her eyes.

  "Xiao Kai," I said, my voice low and steady, cutting through the tense silence. "Your father trained you well. I need your focus."

  She looked at me, her focus pulled from the bloody memories of the night.

  "The rod of steel I commissioned has arrived," I continued, gesturing to a covered stack of material in the corner of the courtyard. "Go with Xiao Qi. Inspect them. I need to know if the quality is sufficient for what I have planned. Check for impurities, for flaws in the forging. Even a single flaw might prove fatal later."

  I was trying to give her rage a target. She looked from me to the steel, and her discipline returned. "I want to speak with you later," she said curtly. She nodded and turned, a tired Xiao Qi scurrying to keep pace.

  I found a night-duty servant and gave him a simple, urgent message: "Inform Steward Feng that Zhang Rulin has a matter of the utmost urgency to report to the Master."

  The wait was not long. Steward Feng appeared at my door, a silent shadow in the lantern light. His face was an impassive mask, but his eyes were sharp, questioning why I would dare request an audience at this hour. He studied my grim, determined expression for a long moment, then gave a single, curt nod. He returned minutes later. "The Master will see you."

  He led me not to the library, but to Lord Feng's private study, a room of stark, elegant simplicity. Lord Feng was seated behind his desk, dressed in a simple, dark night-robe. He looked up as I was announced, his gaze calm but penetrating. Steward Feng bowed and retreated, sliding the door shut behind him.

  "Scholar Zhang," Lord Feng said, his voice low and tired as if I'd just woken him. "It is past midnight. This must be a matter of great importance." He placed his brush down carefully on its jade rest and steepled his long fingers, giving me his complete, undivided attention. "Report."

  "I've identified the source of the Whirling Cloud conspiracy, my lord," I said calmly. "It appears Vice-Director Song has been setting it up to take the fall for his skimming of military grain, nearly a tenth of the grain intended for the Youzhou garrison. The Whirling Cloud cannot survive an audit."

  I paused, letting the weight of the treasonous accusation settle in the quiet room. "But they have powerful backers," I added, stating the obvious. "And all signs point to Chancellor Yang."

  Lord Feng's face remained a placid, unreadable mask. There was no shock, no surprise, not even a flicker of excitement in his eyes. The only sign he had even heard me was the way his hand, which was reaching for his teacup, paused for a fraction of a second in mid-air.

  "Vice-Director Song," he said finally, his voice a quiet, contemplative murmur. "Skimming from the military reserves intended for the Youzhou garrison." He placed the cup down with a soft click. "Treason of the highest order. A useful lever, if it can be proven."

  He looked at me, a flicker of cold, intellectual appreciation in his eyes. "You have been… remarkably efficient, Scholar Zhang, with your time anyways. But as you say, Chancellor Yang is not a man one accuses lightly. To move against him without absolute, irrefutable proof is not just a political risk. It is suicide."

  His gaze became sharp, analytical. "The detail of your report is impressive. The conversations you imply you've overheard are… specific. An informant? In Pingkang Li, I presume? That would explain your considerable spending."

  It was not an accusation. It was a demonstration of his own reach, and a test of my honesty.

  "I'd prefer to keep my sources insulated from danger, my lord," I said, and then added ruefully, "although I'm certain a man of your means already knows to whom I'm referring." I met his gaze directly. "There is, however, an opportunity at hand that may allow us some room to maneuver."

  A cool smile graced the corners of Lord Feng's mouth. It was the look of a Go master seeing his student make a clever move. "A wise agent protects his assets," he said, his voice holding a note of approval. "And a wise master does not need to be told things he already knows." He leaned forward. "An opportunity?"

  "We need not move quickly to eliminate Vice-Director Song. He is a sloppy and arrogant man; let his malignant influence fester and implicate its master. As for defending your interests in the Whirling Cloud, it is enough to deal with the symptoms now that we are aware of the root illness."

  My tone sharpened. "I've observed much simmering displeasure amongst members of the court over Chen HuaRong's fate. There is potential there to ignite a portion of the court to crusade against the true instigators of that case, should adequate proof of his innocence be brought to light." I looked up at him. "I think this is a chance to eliminate our adversaries without having to lift a finger ourselves, using the court and the Censorate as our weapon instead."

  Lord Feng leaned back in his chair, tapping a long finger on his desk. I thought this might be a good time to make a clarification before he asked about it. "And we could make use of Chen's daughter to be the one to make the case to the Censorate…. If we can find her."

  "A bold gambit," he said, his voice an appreciative whisper. "The logic is sound."

  He rose from his desk and began to pace slowly. "Yes. To eliminate a fool like Song now would be a waste. Let his corruption fester and spread. A larger weed is easier for all to see when it is finally time to pull it up."

  He stopped at the window, looking out into the dark, manicured garden. "And the Chen case," he mused. "A rallying cry for the so-called 'righteous faction' in the court. Proof of a good man's unjust ruin... that would be a sufficient spark to light a fire under them."

  He turned back to me, his expression all business, his decision made. "You have presented a viable strategy, Scholar Zhang. Now, I will give you the tools to test it."

  "First, the Whirling Cloud. Simply observing is no longer enough. You must counter Song's manipulations from within. I will send a private message to the Sogdian guildmaster. He will be told that you are my personal representative. Your authority within the company, while still unofficial, will be… expanded."

  "Second, the proof," he continued, his voice dropping. "To exonerate Chen, you will need more than whispers from a pleasure house. You will need the original case files, the memorials, the so-called evidence. They will be sealed within the archives of the Ministry of Justice. Access is nearly impossible." He gave me a sharp, challenging look. "But not, perhaps, for a man with your unique talents."