The following night, Li Wei returned to the Pavilion of a Thousand Delights, his approach even more measured. He did not stride in with the casual confidence of a patron, but as a shadow moving along the edges of attention, a presence to be noted only when convenient.
The lanterns burned with the same golden glow, but the music now carried a tension, as if the city itself had sensed the disruption beneath the stone serpent.
Inside, he observed the patrons with renewed care. The Oolong Group's enforcers were fewer this evening, yet their vigilance was sharper. Steward Huo was not immediately visible, but his aura, a cold current that made the air itself seem brittle, hung over the central dais like a storm cloud waiting to break.
Li Wei noted the smaller details: a server whose sleeves were always carefully folded, a musician whose tuning never wavered, and a pair of attendants who moved between patrons like currents, carrying whispered messages invisible to most eyes.
