Su Cheng froze. He didn't look up—to do so would be a challenge to the bloodline. He immediately stepped to the side, sinking into a rigid, formal bow. His eyes were fixed on the hem of his own robes.
Li Feng stepped out of his litter.
He didn't look like a boy who had once failed chemistry.
He was the Crown Prince, a man wrapped in gold-threaded black silk that made him look like a storm cloud. His face was a mask of sheer, cold arrogance. His mind was occupied with one thing: The Emperor wants the General's head, and the Shadow Merchant is hiding it. I have to kill them both before my father loses patience.
Li Feng began to climb the stairs. His heavy, fur-lined boots clicked rhythmically against the marble.
As Li Feng's shadow fell over him, Su Cheng felt a shiver of genuine terror. This Prince was rumored to be a "wolf"—cruel, unpredictable, and bloodthirsty.
'Stay down' , Su Cheng thought, his fingers digging into his palms. 'Don't look at him. If he notices you, he'll find a reason to vent his anger on your neck.'
Li Feng, meanwhile, ascended the stairs with the heavy, rhythmic gait of a man who owned the world. His eyes stayed fixed on the massive doors of the Throne Room.
He noticed the Marquis—a slender official in high-collared robes—stepping aside for him. He took a single, fleeting glance at the man's bent form.
'Another scholar' , Li Feng thought, his "Identification" sneering at the official's submissive posture. 'Another rat waiting for a scrap from my father's table.'
"Useless scholars," Li Feng muttered under his breath, his voice a low, regal growl that didn't sound anything like the "Captain" he used to be.
Su Cheng remained in his bow until the sound of the Prince's footsteps vanished into the hall. Only then did he stand up, his face pale.
"The Prince is in a foul mood today," his attendant whispered, leaning in close. "They say he spent the morning arguing with the Emperor over the execution of the Northern General."
Su Cheng didn't respond. He adjusted his jade pendant, his analytical mind already processing the information.
"The Prince is going after the 'God of Death.' If the Prince kills the General, the military balance shifts. I need to find the Shadow Merchant before the Prince does. If I can control the Merchant, I can control the outcome."
He turned away, walking toward the outer gates. His steps were quick, his mind a whirlwind of political variables.
"Prepare my carriage," Su Cheng commanded, his voice cold and precise. "We are going to the Merchant's district. I have an audit to conduct."
The air inside the Marquis's private carriage was cold, smelling of old parchment and the sharp, medicinal scent of the ink Su Cheng used to map out the city's trade routes.
Sitting across from him was Official Lu, a mid-level bureaucrat with a nervous twitch and a reputation for knowing exactly which silken pockets held the most bribes. He was the "Nerd's" primary informant, but even Lu looked pale today.
"The Emperor's patience is a thin thread, My Lord," Lu whispered, his eyes darting toward the carriage window as they rattled through the scholar's district.
"The Palace is whispering. They say the Crown Prince didn't just leave for a hunt. He took the 'Black Banner' guards. That only happens when the Prince intends to bring back a head."
Su Cheng didn't look up from the scroll on his lap. He was holding a brush, but he wasn't writing. He was calculating.
"The Prince is a blunt instrument," Su Cheng said, his voice dropping into that terrifyingly calm, analytical tone. "He thinks with steel. But the Shadow Merchant... he thinks with silver. You cannot kill a man like that until you find where he keeps his ledger."
"But My Lord," Lu stammered, "if the Prince finds the Merchant first, he will execute everyone in that vault. The General is a traitor to the crown. The Prince won't wait for an audit. He'll burn the evidence to prove his loyalty to the Emperor."
Su Cheng finally looked up. His eyes were cold, devoid of the warmth they used to have in the high school hallways.
"That is exactly why we must be faster," Su Cheng hissed. "If the Prince kills the General, we lose our only witness to the Northern corruption. If he kills the Merchant, the Empire's economy collapses into a black hole. I don't care about the Prince's 'blood-justice.' I care about the data."
He leaned forward, the shadows of the carriage making his face look like a marble mask.
"Lu, listen to me carefully. The Merchant isn't at the salt-vaults. He's too smart for that. He's moved the 'merchandise.' Look for the routes that aren't being used. Find the charcoal-burner tracks in the ravine. That's where a man goes when he wants to hide a dying God."
"The ravine? But that's Imperial hunting ground! If we're caught there while the Prince is on the warpath—"
"Then we make sure we aren't caught," Su Cheng interrupted, his voice cutting like a razor.
"Investigate every shack, every cellar. Find them before the Prince's horses reach the tree line. If the Prince draws his sword before I get my answers, the 'Save Point' for this Empire is gone."
Su Cheng snapped his fan shut—a sharp, final sound.
"Go. Now. And Lu... if you see the Prince's banners, do not engage. Hide in the dirt if you have to. A dead informant is the only variable I haven't accounted for, and I hate being wrong."
As Lu scrambled out of the moving carriage, Su Cheng looked out at the darkening sky. He gripped the edge of the wooden bench until his knuckles turned white.
I'm not a soldier, he thought, a flicker of his modern self breaking through the Marquis's ice. I'm just a guy who's good at math.
But if I don't solve this equation before the Prince reaches that cabin, I'm going to watch my world burn.
"Drive," Su Cheng commanded the coachman. "To the ravine. And don't stop for the Imperial Guard."
---
Miles away, in the claustrophobic darkness of the forest ravine, Lin Kai pressed his back against the damp stone outside the charcoal-burner's cabin.
His "Identification" was screaming. His black mask was slick with the humidity of the woods.
He pulled his dagger—the one the Demon Mask had told him to use to frame the Marquis. He could hear the heavy, rhythmic breathing of a wounded man inside.
The General. The target.
Lin Kai closed his eyes, his finger tracing the edge of the blade.
'One strike' , he thought, his modern soul drowning in the persona of Number Seven. 'One strike, and I can go back to the shadows.'
He raised the blade, his hand hovering over the door latch.
But then, the sound reached him.
From the East, the thunder of a hundred Imperial hooves—The Prince.
From the West, the frantic rattle of a carriage on the river rocks—The Marquis.
Inside the cabin, Han Jue heard them all. He stood over the dying Big Cat, his hand white-knuckled around a heavy silver tael, his eyes fixed on the door.
He didn't know who was coming, but he knew he was out of time.
The Prince. The Marquis. The Assassin. The Merchant.
The door creaked. The first drop of rain hit the dry forest floor like a gunshot.