The warehouse fire was the talk of Lin'an. People spoke of an accident, of revenge from rival merchants, or, in the lowest whispers, of the Rooftop Ghost's work. Lord Xiao, as Lin Mei had predicted, became a caged, rabid animal. He had dozens arrested, offered astronomical rewards, and his men terrorized the poorer districts, desperately searching for a culprit.
But his show of force rang hollow. He had lost a significant portion of his fortune and, more importantly, his aura of invincibility. People still feared him, but they were also beginning to mock him. The spider was caught in the smoking ruins of its own web.
Li Jin, meanwhile, remained in the shadows. He held the black wooden tile Lin Mei had given him. The carved plum blossom was smooth under his thumb. It was a promise, but also a risk. Trusting strangers in this city of betrayals was dangerous.
An unexpected ally, the Tiger thought, its voice a mix of suspicion and curiosity. Predators recognize other predators. But do not forget: even allies have their own fangs.
For two days, Li Jin did nothing. He watched how the city reacted. He saw Xiao's guards become more brutal, more desperate. He also saw small acts of defiance he hadn't seen before. A merchant shrugging and refusing to pay a "tax." An innkeeper throwing out Xiao's men for being too loud. The cracks in the armor of fear were widening.
On the third day, he decided. He followed the cryptic instructions Lin Mei had whispered before she vanished: "Where ink meets tea, under the gaze of the sleeping poet."
He found the place in the scholars' district. It was a modest teahouse called "The Drunken Brush." Above the entrance was a wooden carving of an old man asleep on a pile of books, a brush in his hand. The sleeping poet.
He entered. The inside was quiet, filled with the scent of tea and paper. A few scholars sat reading or conversing in low voices. Li Jin took an empty table in the corner and ordered a simple tea.
He waited. No one seemed to notice him. He took out the wooden tile and placed it on the table next to his cup.
A few minutes later, the waitress returned. She was a young woman with a plain face, but her eyes were sharp and intelligent. She placed a new pot on his table.
"The tea you ordered was a bit bland," she said softly. "This one has more character. It is a gift from the house."
As she leaned in, she whispered so low only he could hear, "Wait until closing." Then she moved away as if nothing had happened.
Li Jin spent the rest of the afternoon sipping tea, his mind both calm and alert. When the last customer left and the waitress locked the front door, she turned to him.
"Follow me."
She led him to the back of the shop, through a spotless kitchen, to a door concealed behind a shelf. They descended a narrow staircase into a cool cellar.
The cellar was not filled with provisions, but with books, maps of the city, and a few discreet weapons laid out on a table. A middle-aged man in a simple scholar's robe sat there, reading a scroll. He looked up as they entered. His gaze was as piercing as the Grand Master's.
"So, you are the Ghost who has the city in an uproar," the man said. His voice was calm, but it carried a natural authority.
"I am only a traveler passing through," Li Jin replied.
The man smiled faintly. "Travelers passing through do not burn down the warehouses of the most dangerous men in Lin'an. Lin Mei told us about you. She is rarely impressed. You must be special." He gestured to a chair. "I am Chen Jian. And this is Zhang Shu." He indicated the young waitress.
The names were simple, common. But Li Jin sensed these people were not.
"We are the Plum Blossom Society," Chen Jian explained. "We are not warriors. We are scholars, merchants, artisans... people who believe this city deserves better than to be the playground for tyrants like Xiao. We gather information, help those in need, and cut the strands of webs like his, but we do so in silence."
"Your methods are louder than ours," Zhang Shu added, her voice crisp and precise. "You have drawn attention. That is both useful and dangerous."
"Xiao has become reckless," Chen Jian said. "He is looking for a visible culprit. He thinks you are alone. This is an opportunity. He has lost money, but his political network at court is still intact. That is where we must strike."
He unrolled a map of the city on the table. "Xiao is hosting a private reception in three days. He will be entertaining an imperial censor from the capital. He plans to offer him 'gifts' to ensure the reports on his activities remain... favorable."
"You want me to steal the bribes," Li Jin guessed.
Chen Jian shook his head. "No. Too simple. He would just replace them. We want you to replace Xiao's accounting ledger." He produced a leather-bound ledger, identical to another one lying beside it. "This is his real ledger. Lin Mei... 'borrowed' it for a few hours. It details all of his extortions, his smuggling, his bribes. We have made a perfect copy."
He pointed to the copy. "Except, in this version, we have added a few lines. Transactions that directly implicate the imperial censor in a treasonous plot. The sale of weapons to our enemies in the north, the Jurchens."
The plan was audacious. And incredibly dangerous.
"The censor is known to be a paranoid and cruel man," Zhang Shu explained. "If Xiao presents him with this book by mistake, thinking it's a simple list of bribes, the censor will believe he's being set up. He'll think Xiao is trying to blackmail or eliminate him. He won't wait to verify. He'll act first to protect himself."
"We want them to destroy each other," Chen Jian concluded. "The spider and the scorpion in the same bottle. Your role is to get into the manor during the reception and switch the books. The real ledger is kept in his private study."
He handed Li Jin a detailed floor plan of the manor. "It's nearly impossible. The study is in the heart of the building, protected by his best guards. But Lin Mei told us that if anyone can move like a shadow, it is you."
Li Jin studied the plan. The risk was enormous. If he was caught, it wouldn't just mean death. It would mean torture, and he would endanger the entire Plum Blossom Society.
It's a clever trap, the Tiger admitted. But it relies on too many uncertainties. A direct confrontation would be cleaner.
And it would kill innocents, Li Jin countered. He looked at Chen Jian. "Why should I trust you?"
"Because we want the same thing you do," the scholar replied. "A city where a family man doesn't have to fear his shop being burned down because he can't pay an illegal tax." He looked Li Jin straight in the eye. "And because Lin Mei trusts you. And we trust her."
The reasoning was simple, but powerful. Li Jin thought of his own father, of his village. He nodded. "I'll do it."
The next three days were spent in meticulous preparation. Zhang Shu, who had once worked as a servant in the manor, described every routine, every hidden passage, the number of guards and their rotation times. Chen Jian provided him with information on the censor, his habits, his character.
Li Jin didn't practice combat. He meditated. He had to be perfectly calm, perfectly invisible. He had to become the Silent River Step, not for a moment, but for an entire night.
The night of the reception arrived. A light rain was falling on Lin'an, muffling sounds and making the rooftops slick. It was perfect weather.
Dressed in black, the fake ledger hidden under his tunic, Li Jin moved through the night. Lord Xiao's manor was an island of light and music in the darkness. The guards were numerous, but their attention was focused outward, on the arriving guests.
Li Jin didn't try the gates. He used a route Zhang Shu had told him about: a water drainage grate that ran beneath the outer wall.
He emerged into the manor gardens. He moved from shadow to shadow, his breath as light as the mist. He could feel the guards' presence, their patrol routes, their blind spots. He was like water seeping through the cracks in a rock.
He reached the main building. He scaled a wall, his fingers and toes finding nearly invisible holds. He slipped through a kitchen window that had been left ajar.
He was inside.
The din of the party was louder here. Laughter, music, the clinking of cups. He moved through the service corridors, a ghost in his enemy's house. He could feel the tension rising in him, a cold excitement. The Tiger was awake, but silent, focused, ready to spring if needed.
He neared the study. Two elite guards stood before the door. They were motionless, alert. He couldn't fight them. He couldn't bypass them.
He hid in a dark alcove and waited. Patience was the key.
A servant hurried past, carrying a tray of wine. Li Jin waited for him to pass, then whispered to the World-Breath. A small suggestion.
The servant stumbled on a wrinkle in the carpet. The tray flew from his hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter of shattered pottery and spilled wine.
The two guards started. Their attention was diverted, if only for two seconds, toward the noise.
It was enough.
In those two seconds, Li Jin slipped from his hiding place, flowed behind them like a draft of air, and picked the lock on the study door with a thin wire Chen Jian had given him. He slipped inside and closed the door without a sound.
He was in the spider's den.
The study was luxurious. The real ledger was sitting on the rosewood desk, next to a stack of gold ingots—the "gift" for the censor.
Li Jin made the switch, his heart hammering. He placed the fake ledger and tucked the real one under his tunic.
He was about to leave when his eyes fell on another scroll, left open on the desk. It wasn't an account. It was a letter.
He read it quickly. His blood ran cold.
The letter was addressed to the Jurchen general in the north. It detailed the defensive positions on the southern border, the names of commanders loyal to the emperor, and offered to sabotage the Song army's supply lines in exchange for a noble title when they conquered the south.
Lord Xiao wasn't just a criminal. He was a traitor.
The Tiger inside him roared, a pure, ice-cold fury. Kill him. This is no longer about justice. This is about the survival of the Empire. Kill him now!
Li Jin took the letter. His mission had just changed. Switching the books was no longer enough. He had to get out of here. Alive. And with this proof.