The ghost story Yingluo had unleashed spread through the Forbidden City like a winter chill, carried on the whispers of eunuchs and the behind-the-fan gossip of concubines. The Ministry of Rites had become a laughingstock, a den of paranoia where clerks eyed each other with suspicion, triple-checking even the simplest characters. The Third Prince, Li Jian, was a volcano of impotent rage, his fury a spectacle that only heightened the perception of his instability. The web was trembling, just as she had predicted.
