The late autumn wind cut through Xingzhao's outer rim with a quiet persistence, rustling the leaves on the reinforced battlements. From the top of a newly built watchtower, Wen Ji stood with hands tucked into the sleeves of his cloak, watching the town below.
Xingzhao had grown too fast.
From a collection of mismatched shelters to a bastion of security and prosperity—its roads were paved with synthetic stone, its homes warmed with hidden generators, and its people walked with the strange confidence of those who believed their world was untouchable.
But Wen Ji knew: no kingdom was ever truly untouchable.
His temporary Smart ID was restricted in access, limited in function was an insult. He could not access sensitive areas, nor see real-time reports. Yet he had observed enough. His nightly walks, seemingly innocent, gave him a different kind of intelligence.
Habits. Movement patterns. Patrol shifts. Guard rotations.
He smirked. "They've armored themselves like turtles. But even turtles can be flipped."
Inside his private quarters granted out of diplomatic necessity he opened a discreetly smuggled relic from the Yun Empire: a memory crystal, carved in the likeness of a jade pendant. Upon touch, it projected a message in misty script above his palm.
"Wen Ji; report. The whispers are spreading. Delay no longer."
His eyes narrowed. He needed leverage. A weakness. A person. Someone in the inner council who could be turned. If Lu Shiming had failed, another must be found.
News of Xingzhao's rise spread slowly but surely through hidden trade channels, whispered by wandering scholars, and carried by merchants who returned with tales of wonder.
A town with paved roads that glowed at night. Where water flowed through walls. Where diseases vanished at clinics with no incense or charms.
Where children read from glowing tablets, and soldiers wielded thunder-rods.
At first, many rulers laughed off the rumors.
Then, the Kingdom of Ruan dispatched a covert scout team.
They returned with detailed sketches, encoded messages, and a broken communication device that emitted light without flame. And suddenly, the world stopped laughing.
The Tiejin Principality
Duke Tiejin Ao slammed his fist onto the map table. "What sorcery builds a fortress in a year? What devilry gives farmers weapons better than our armies?"
His advisor, Minister Gao He, adjusted his spectacles. "Your Grace, perhaps it is not sorcery but strategy. We propose we send a formal envoy. Offer peace. Trade."
"Recognize them as a sovereign state?" Tiejin Ao scoffed. "They're peasants and a disgraced prince!"
Gao He smiled thinly. "Peasants who now control weapons we don't understand. And a prince who's becoming more than a rumor."
Northern Coalition of Luohai
In the snow-drenched halls of Luohai's council, Chancellor Yu Lianshengconsidered the reports with cold detachment.
"They are not a threat to us," he said, "but they could become a shield between us and the Yun Empire. If we support them, Yun Zhen may turn west instead of north."
An envoy was selected. Gifts prepared. And a message was sent: We wish peace with your people. A treaty of trade, and mutual respect.
At the central command, Song Lian held a letter marked with the seal of Luohai's Frosted Rose, read it once, and set it down.
"Another request for a diplomatic audience," she murmured. "That makes three."
Yun Zhen stood beside her, arms folded. "If we accept one, we must accept all. We walk a tightrope."
"They recognize us as a nation," Song Lian said, gaze distant. "That alone will send ripples through the Yun Empire."
Yun Zhen nodded. "And put a target on our backs." Silence stretched between them.
"But we can't remain isolated forever," Song Lian added softly. "We need allies. We need trade. We can't protect the people alone."
Yun Zhen looked at her, the lines of strain softened in her eyes. "Then we prepare for diplomacy. On our terms."
Within the shadowed perimeter of the Eastern Sector, Wen Ji met with a figure in a black cloak, one of the last surviving informants from the Yun Empire embedded before the border sealed.
"Send this," Wen Ji said, passing a sealed tube. "Inside are layouts. Patrol rhythms. Weaknesses. They trust their walls too much."
The informant bowed. "But no strike yet," Wen Ji continued. "Let them believe the world welcomes them. Let their doors open wider."
He turned back to gaze upon Xingzhao's glowing skyline. "And when they do… the serpent strikes."