The night deepened, the sky murky beneath a veil of mist and the faint scent of burning wood carried by the wind.
Li Chengyan—cloaked in dark robes, a thin mask covering part of his face—walked through the narrow alleys toward an old carpentry workshop he had marked earlier that evening.
Inside, the sound of carving tools scraping wood echoed in the quiet. An old, muscular man with a gray beard and sharp, narrowed eyes glanced up warily as the stranger entered.
"Can I help you, sir?" the carpenter asked curtly, never lifting his hand from the half-shaped wood he was working on.
"Zhao Wu," Li Chengyan said coolly. "Did you think you could hide forever?"
The carpenter froze. His hand trembled as he slowly laid down his chisel.
"Who are you?" he hissed suspiciously. No one in this part of the city called him by his full name—not anymore. Fear flickered in his eyes.
Li Chengyan said nothing. He simply pulled out a corroded badge from beneath his sash—the broken insignia of the rebel army, burned and buried years ago. Just one glance was enough to make the old man freeze.
"Who the hell are you?!" Zhao Wu shouted, his voice rising with alarm. Instinctively, he shifted into a defensive stance, his years of training returning to him.
Unbothered by the outburst, Li Chengyan remained ice-cold. "I'm not here to kill you... as long as you talk."
Zhao Wu scoffed bitterly. "It’s been nine years. I’m nobody now."
"You were a soldier in the rebellion. One of the last survivors. You know something. Tell me!"
Instead of answering, Zhao Wu let out a dry laugh. “If I speak, both they and the palace will hunt my family to the grave.”
Li Chengyan stepped closer. “Your family won’t be safe if you stay silent.”
"You think I believe that?!"
Tension snapped. Zhao Wu grabbed a long wooden plank beside him and lunged. Though unarmed, Li Chengyan reacted instantly. The two clashed in a short, brutal fight within the cramped workshop—fists and wood clashing, old floorboards groaning under the chaos.
Eventually, Zhao Wu was cornered. Li Chengyan pinned him against the wall, the tip of a hidden dagger pressed to his throat.
"Talk," he hissed.
"Now!"
His voice cut through the silence like a blade. Zhao Wu panted, eyes wild with exhaustion and despair. Finally—his voice cracked—he said, “Shen Jing... he’s the mastermind. Not just behind the rebellion nine years ago, but other major events before that. I heard our commander say it… before he died in the valley.”
“What other events?” Li Chengyan pressed.
Zhao Wu’s reply was weak, his body slumping. “I don’t know… maybe the betrayal in the north… or the massacre of a noble family… I swear, I don’t know!”
Li Chengyan paused. He had expected something—but not this much. “Do you have proof?” he asked sharply.
“Only his last words… nothing written.” Zhao Wu shook his head.
Li Chengyan exhaled, frustrated. He raised his hand. “Then you’ll come with me to the palace. You’ll testify before the Emperor.”
But before he could grab the man’s arm, Zhao Wu moved faster. He twisted Li Chengyan’s wrist, snatching the dagger—and without hesitation, drove it into his own chest.
Li Chengyan tried to stop him, but it was too late.
Blood spilled onto the wooden floor. Zhao Wu staggered, collapsing atop a pile of wood shavings.
“This way… they won’t go after my family…” he whispered, just before his eyes closed forever.
Li Chengyan stood still, blood on his hands. His expression didn’t change, but his jaw clenched tight. He drew a long breath and turned his head to the cold night sky.
“…Shen Jing…”
That name now etched itself deeper into his mind—ready to be dragged into the light, no matter the cost.
---
The night crawled on. Cold air slipped between the stone-paved roads. City lanterns had dimmed one by one, leaving only the faint glow of a distant inn flickering in the darkness.
Lin Xi walked briskly, the hem of her cloak fluttering. Her face was half-hidden beneath her hood, eyes still haunted by the conversation with Old Gu.
But just as she approached the side gate of the inn—
"Where have you been?"
A flat voice stopped her mid-step.
She looked up. From the shadows beneath a wooden beam, a tall figure stepped forward—Li Chengyan, his face streaked with dust and the faint scent of blood lingering on his clothes.
Their eyes met. Silence. Tension.
Then Lin Xi chuckled softly.
"Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? Are you a bodyguard or a ghost? Sneaking around like a thief.”
Li Chengyan didn’t laugh. He took a step closer, his eyes scanning her from head to toe. “You said you were sleeping. Sick. But somehow, you look… quite healthy.”
“Oh? So you’ve been watching my room? Don’t tell me you’ve developed a fondness for this lady?” Lin Xi raised an eyebrow.
Li Chengyan moved half a step closer. “I’m suspicious. You sneak out too often. Speak too well. None of your movements match a typical noblewoman.”
“You’re oddly talkative tonight, Mr. Silent Scar,” Lin Xi muttered, narrowing her eyes. “Are you drunk? Or fishing for something?”
“Maybe.” His face was now close, his eyes intense. “Or maybe… you’re the one hiding something.”
Lin Xi didn’t hesitate. She lunged to the side and flicked the edge of her shawl—revealing a hidden blade. Li Chengyan blocked it barehanded, then twisted her wrist and pinned her to the wooden wall.
“Still want to play pretend?” he hissed, fully in control.
The girl, small in his grasp, let out a soft laugh—not of fear, but amusement. In a swift motion, she dropped down and swept his legs. He stumbled slightly, giving her just enough space to stand again, breathing fast.
“If I’m in disguise,” she said, stepping back, “then so are you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the blood on your clothes and the cut on your hand. So who’s really lying here, hmm?”
Li Chengyan’s eyes narrowed. His heart pounded, but his face remained unreadable.
“I don’t trust you,” he said quietly.
Lin Xi smiled, rolling her bruised shoulder. “Good. Because I don’t trust you either.”
Silence settled again. The wind stirred their hair, and for a few seconds, only their breath and heartbeats filled the space.
Then Lin Xi turned and walked toward the side door. Before entering, she glanced back.
“But if you plan to follow me again… make sure you don’t get caught.
Next time, I won’t stop at your wrist.”
Li Chengyan answered only with a sharp glance, then turned the other way toward the storage shed.
That night, two people—both carrying secrets—walked in opposite directions,
bound by suspicion...
and a growing curiosity neither dared admit.