A servant informs Zhao Ming that the Qiao Patriarch wishes to see him. Upon arriving, Zhao Ming is introduced to the Patriarch’s son, Qiao Xian, who has just returned from Luoyang.

  Qiao Xian warmly greets Zhao Ming, intrigued by the young schor’s risiation. Over tea, he rets his experiences in Luoyang, detailing visits to the Imperial Academy, where schors reended by the Qiao family have secured promising positions.

  However, the versation soon turns serious as Qiao Xian lowers his voice. Rumors in the capital suggest that a powerful eunuch fa is growing, solidating influence over key court affairs. Worse still, whispers circute about the Emperor’s deih, fueling s that turbulent times lie ahead. Zhao Ming listens carefully, reizing that such ges could reshape the politidscape—and his own fate within it.

  At the Sun Manor, Sun Yi hears troubling news—Xiao Lan was seen delivering a letter to Zhao Ming. Still nursing his wounded pride from the poetry petition, he ches his fists in irritation.

  “That lowly scribe dares to capture her attention?” he mutters. His attendant, sensing his mood, remains silent.

  After a moment of ption, Sun Yi turns to his most trusted servant. “Find out if Liu Wen is willing to… handle some matters for us.”

  Liu Wen, an opportunist within the bureaucracy, had a reputation for dirty work—leveraging his position for personal gain and crushing those who stood in his way. If he could be persuaded to make Zhao Ming’s life difficult, Sun Yi’s revenge would be swift and ruthless.

  At the Jade Pavilion, Lian Rou aroupe prepare for their departure to Luoyang. The air buzzes with st-minute preparations, and her heart feels heavy. As she stands in her chamber, gazing out the window, doubt creeps in—had her letter brought trouble to Zhao Ming? Would he resent her for it?

  Her maid, Xiao Lan, notices her hesitation. “Miss, if you’re worried about him, why not send another message?”

  Lian Rou shakes her head, f a small smile. “No. I’ve already acted on impulse once. If fate wills it, we shall meet again.”

  She takes o look at the city she has called home for years before stepping out to bid farewell to the innkeeper and Madam Xu, the matron of the establishment. Both express their gratitude for her time at the Jade Pavilion—her presence had brought prestige and drawn iial patrons.

  Outside, a small crowd gathers as her carriage prepares to depart. Young noblemen and schors linger, hoping for o glimpse of her. Some murmur poetic farewells; others boldly call out, pleading for her to stay.

  Ign the fanfare, Lian Rou steps into the carriage, drawing the silk curtain closed. As the wheels begin to turn, she exhales slowly, closing her eyes. She was leaving behind one chapter of her life, uain of what awaited her in the imperial capital.

  Back at the yamen, Zhao Ming senses a subtle ge in his colleagues’ behavior. Sard him with cautious gnces, while others avoid his gaze altogether. One clerk, seemingly wanting to speak with him, hesitates before stepping bato the crowd as Liu Weers the room.

  Liu Wen remains outwardly ral but assigns Zhao Ming a particurly daunting task: preparing supplies for an ining army unit. The deadlihree days.

  “The details should be obvious,” Liu Wen says with a smirk, no further guidance.

  Zhao Ming quickly realizes that this is a deliberate test—if he fails, the sequences could be severe.

  The old scribe watches the exge and ter murmurs a warning: “The higher you climb, the more hands will try t you down.”

  As Zhao Ming begins to review the necessary provisions, a few lower-ranked officials whisper among themselves. Heng, a younger clerk, finally gathers the ce to speak.

  “You should be careful, Zhao Ming,” he says in a hushed tone. “Liu We usually assign such tasks without an ulterior motive.”

  Zhao Ming nods, his mind already w through possible angles. Was this merely a bureaucratic hurdle, or was something more si py?

  That evening, Zhao Ming is surprised when Yang Tiahe Yang family heir, visits the Qiao residence. Qiao Xian joins them, indig that this is a matter of some importance.

  Yang Tianlei gets straight to the point. “Sun Yi is making a move against you.”

  Zhao Ming remains posed but attentive. “What kind of move?”

  Yang Tianlei sighs. “For now, nothing drastic. But he’s using Liu Wen to stir up trouble for you at the yamen. Assigning you the military provisions task wasn’t a ce.”

  Zhao Ming’s mind sharpens. “So, this is part of a rger py?”

  Yang Tianlei nods. “The court has approved an auxiliary force, mostly posed of local peasants, hunters, and former soldiers. Around 800 to 1,000 men—most bringing their own ons, which is unusual. They’ll need supplies, food, and lodging.”

  Zhao Ming’s eyes narrow. The assig Liu Wen had given him suddenly took on new meaning.

  He carefully inquires about the army’s needs, prompting a deeper discussioween him, Yang Tianlei, and Qiao Xian.

  Size: 800–1,000 men, a mix of backgrounds, but with an unusual number of self-equipped fighters.

  Food: Zhao Ming suggests seeking provisions from merts lio the Murong and Qiao families.

  Lodging: Yang Tianlei agrees te for some troops to stay in military barracks, while others will take refuge in a nearby temple outside the city.

  “There’s one more thing,” Yang Tianlei adds, l his voice. “Their leader is someone called Liu.”

  Zhao Ming stills. His first thought immediately drifts to the legendary Liu Bei, but he keeps his specution to himself.

  The versation stretches deep into the night as they meticulously pn, knowing that any misstep could have serious sequences.

  Finally returning to his quarters, Zhao Ming leans ba his chair, deep in thought. The day’s events had been a whirlwind—political shifts, hidden threats, and an ued military assig.

  His fingers brush against the sealed letter from Lian Rou, still resting on his desk. With a sigh, he unfolds it once more.

  Perhaps Sun Yi would cause him trouble because of it. But in a way, this letter had also gained him new allies.

  “If I see her again,” he murmurs, “I’ll have to thank her properly.”