Morning arrived quietly in the capital. Xia Yuqing woke before sunrise. For a few moments, she remained still, listening.
Outside, the street noises had changed. Instead of the usual vendor calls and leisurely chatter, she heard the firm rhythm of marching boots and the occasional sharp command of patrolling guards.
So it had begun.
She rose slowly from the bed and completed her morning routine with deliberate calm. The old woman's disguise remained intact—thin gray wig pinned securely, wrinkles carefully painted, shoulders hunched forward, and her gait adjusted to appear frail and uneven.
Even her breathing was altered to sound slightly labored. Once satisfied, she descended the stairs to the inn's dining area. The common room was fuller than usual.
Travelers who had failed to leave the capital the previous night lingered over breakfast, their conversations low but restless. The atmosphere was thick with unease.
