The village chief fell face-first into the dirt. For one brief moment, nobody moved. Then the guards raised their shields. “Protect the minister!” “Search the forest!” “Don’t let the assassin escape!” The clearing erupted into confusion. Shen Rui remained still, his eyes fixed on the direction from which the arrow had come. The forest appeared empty, but he knew better. The assassin had already retreated. Shoot someone and run away? What an irresponsible way to conduct business. He glanced at the village chief. The old man was dead. There was no point pretending otherwise. Minister Han knelt beside him, pressing two fingers against his neck. His expression became grim. “Send someone to search the village. No one leaves.” The guards immediately obeyed. Shen Rui turned toward the burning shrine. Smoke curled into the sky, carrying the scent of scorched wood and oil. The hidden chamber—and much of its evidence—would soon be destroyed. His hand moved instinctively to the ledger hidden beneath his robe. It was still there. At least I didn’t risk my life for nothing. A soldier approached with a frightened expression. “My lord, the fire is spreading. We must move away.” Minister Han stood. “What about the villagers?” “We’re evacuating them.” “Then do it quickly.” Shen Rui glanced toward the houses. Several villagers had gathered near the road. Their faces were pale, and some clutched their children tightly. Nobody cried. Nobody shouted. They simply watched the shrine burn. They had seen this before. Not the fire, perhaps. But the fear. Shen Rui’s gaze shifted to a woman standing at the edge of the crowd. She was holding a little girl by the wrist. The child’s eyes were fixed on the dead village chief. The woman noticed Shen Rui looking and immediately pulled the girl behind her. They’re afraid of the people who control this place, not of us. He turned to Minister Han. “Do you have somewhere secure to question the villagers?” “The village hall.” “Don’t use it.” Minister Han frowned. “Why?” Shen Rui pointed toward the roof of the building. A thin strand of smoke drifted from its chimney. “The fire in the hall was lit recently.” The minister’s face tightened. A guard hurried to inspect the building. Moments later, he returned. “My lord, there are signs that someone entered the hall this morning. We also found oil beneath the floorboards.” Minister Han’s jaw clenched. “Move everyone to the eastern courtyard. Surround the area.” Shen Rui sighed. The village has eighty families, three suspicious buildings, and enough hidden weapons to start a small rebellion. I would like to go home now. A nearby official suddenly coughed. Shen Rui looked at him. The official quickly turned away. By late afternoon, the villagers had been gathered in the courtyard of an abandoned temple. The guards searched every house and confiscated weapons found in hidden storage spaces. The evidence recovered from the underground chamber was limited. Most of the grain had burned, and several documents were reduced to ash. But the ledger Shen Rui had taken remained intact. Minister Han sat beneath the temple’s covered walkway, studying it. His face grew darker with every page. “There are records of grain shipments from five prefectures,” he said quietly. “Not just Yunzhou.” Shen Rui sat beside a pillar, eating a steamed bun someone had given him. “Then the problem is larger than one warehouse.” Minister Han looked up. “You’re not surprised.” “I’m surprised that people can steal so much grain without anyone noticing.” “Many officials must be involved.” “Or everyone noticed and decided not to say anything.” Minister Han fell silent. Shen Rui took another bite. Corruption is like mold. If you only clean the surface, it grows back underneath. The minister’s fingers tightened around the ledger. “Young Master Shen, where did you learn to think this way?” Shen Rui nearly choked on his bun. He swallowed and answered without hesitation. “From being lazy.” Minister Han stared at him. “Explain.” “Lazy people look for the shortest route. If grain disappears, I want to know where it went without walking around the entire country.” The minister looked as though he wanted to ask more, but a guard interrupted them. “My lord, we found someone hiding in a villager’s home.” “Bring him here.” Two soldiers dragged a young man into the courtyard. He was perhaps twenty years old, with mud on his clothes and a cut above his eyebrow. The villagers immediately began whispering. The young man struggled against the guards. “Let go of me! I haven’t done anything!” Minister Han studied him. “Name.” “Wang Tao.” “Your relationship to the village chief?” “He was my uncle.” “Why were you hiding?” Wang Tao’s expression changed. “I wasn’t hiding. I was looking for my sister.” “Where is she?” He looked toward the villagers. Nobody answered. Shen Rui stopped eating. That reaction was too fast. He studied the young man’s hands. There was dirt beneath his fingernails, but also a dark stain around his thumb. Ink. Not ordinary ink. The same reddish-black ink used on the ledger. Shen Rui leaned forward. “Did you enter the underground storage room?” Wang Tao’s head snapped toward him. “No!” The answer came too quickly. Shen Rui nodded slowly. “I didn’t say you did.” Wang Tao’s face turned pale. Minister Han looked at Shen Rui, then back at the young man. “Search him.” A guard searched Wang Tao’s clothing and found a small brass key hidden inside his boot. Minister Han held it up. “What does this open?” Wang Tao remained silent. Shen Rui’s eyes moved to the key. It had a shallow scratch along one edge and a small symbol carved into its handle. A black crow. The same symbol found on the captured assassin. This village is becoming less and less suitable for retirement. Minister Han placed the key on the table. “Take him into custody.” As the guards pulled Wang Tao away, the young man suddenly shouted. “My sister didn’t betray anyone!” The courtyard fell silent. Shen Rui looked up. Wang Tao struggled desperately against the guards. “They took her because she refused to open the warehouse! She didn’t tell them anything!” Minister Han rose sharply. “Who took her?” But Wang Tao had already been dragged away. Shen Rui lowered his gaze. So the villagers weren’t accomplices. They were hostages. He looked toward the frightened crowd. The little girl he had noticed earlier was no longer standing beside her mother. Shen Rui’s expression changed. He stood. “Where is the child?” The woman who had been holding her earlier suddenly screamed. “My daughter!” The guards turned. The girl had disappeared. Shen Rui looked toward the temple’s side entrance. The door was slightly open. And beneath it, a thin line of fresh mud led into the darkness. They came back for another hostage. Shen Rui dropped the remaining half of his bun. For the first time that day, he stopped thinking about sleep. He moved toward the door. Minister Han caught his arm. “Shen Rui, stay here.” Shen Rui looked at the minister’s hand. Then toward the dark passage. “Your guards are standing in the wrong place.” Before Minister Han could respond, Shen Rui pulled free and stepped inside. The temple was quiet. Too quiet. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. Wooden statues stood along the walls, their faces worn smooth with age. A narrow corridor stretched toward the back of the building. Somewhere ahead, a child whimpered. Shen Rui’s breathing slowed. His old instincts returned. Count the exits. Listen for movement. Observe the shadows. He noticed a loose floorboard and stepped over it. A thin wire had been attached beneath the wood. A trap. These people really don’t know how to welcome guests. He continued forward. The whimpering stopped. Shen Rui halted. A blade suddenly emerged from behind one of the statues. He leaned aside, allowing it to pass his shoulder, and grabbed the attacker’s wrist. The man attempted to twist away, but Shen Rui drove his elbow into the attacker’s ribs. The man staggered. Shen Rui caught the front of his robe and slammed him against the wall. “Where is the girl?” The attacker gritted his teeth. Shen Rui pressed harder. “I’m asking politely.” The man spat at him. Shen Rui glanced at the spit on the floor. Then at the man. “That was rude.” He struck the attacker’s wrist against the wall. The dagger fell. Footsteps thundered behind him. Minister Han and several guards rushed into the corridor. “Shen Rui!” The attacker took advantage of the distraction and kicked Shen Rui away. He then reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small black pellet. Shen Rui’s eyes widened. “Get back!” The pellet struck the ground. A cloud of smoke burst through the corridor. The guards coughed and stumbled. Shen Rui covered his mouth with his sleeve and rushed forward, following the faint sound of footsteps. At the end of the corridor, he found a narrow door. It was locked. From the other side came a small, terrified voice. “Help me!” Shen Rui stepped back and kicked the door. The lock broke. Inside, the little girl was tied to a wooden chair, her eyes wide with fear. Shen Rui crouched before her. “Are you hurt?” She shook her head. “Can you walk?” She nodded. “Good. Hold on to me.” He cut the ropes with a small blade hidden inside his sleeve. The girl clung to his robe as he carried her out. By the time they returned to the courtyard, the smoke had begun to clear. The captured attacker had disappeared through a concealed passage, leaving behind only his dagger and a single piece of black cloth. Minister Han hurried toward them. “Is she safe?” Shen Rui handed the girl to her mother. “She’s frightened, but unharmed.” The woman fell to her knees, sobbing as she embraced her daughter. Shen Rui looked away. I really should stop getting involved. He glanced down at the torn sleeve of his robe. But if I don’t, who will? Across the courtyard, Minister Han picked up the piece of black cloth. Embroidered on its edge was a familiar symbol. A black crow. And beneath it, in tiny silver thread, were two words. Night Pavilion. That evening, a messenger reached the imperial palace. Xiao Jingyuan stood beside the window as the report was read aloud. “The village chief is dead. The shrine was destroyed. The investigation team recovered a ledger connecting several prefectures to the missing grain shipments.” The emperor’s gaze remained fixed on the darkened courtyard. “And Shen Rui?” “He rescued a kidnapped child.” A pause. “Was he injured?” “Only a small cut on his sleeve.” Xiao Jingyuan turned. “Only?” The messenger lowered his head. “Yes, Your Majesty.” The emperor said nothing for a long moment. Then he asked, “What was found on the attackers?” “A symbol belonging to the Night Pavilion.” The temperature in the room seemed to drop. Xiao Jingyuan’s expression hardened. The Night Pavilion had not appeared in the capital for three years. Its assassins did not serve ordinary officials. They served whoever could pay—and sometimes, whoever held enough power to command them. The emperor looked toward the memorials piled on his desk. “Send word to Minister Han.” “Yes, Your Majesty.” “Tell him to return to the capital immediately.” The messenger hesitated. “And Young Master Shen?” Xiao Jingyuan’s eyes darkened. “Keep him with the convoy.” He paused. “Do not allow him to travel alone.” Outside, the palace bells rang through the night. And far away in Qinghe Village, Shen Rui lay beneath a thin blanket, staring at the ceiling of the temple. Tomorrow we return to the capital. He closed his eyes. No more investigations. No more assassins. No more saving children. A moment passed. And absolutely no more early mornings. From the other side of the room, Minister Han quietly pulled the blanket higher around his shoulders. He had heard every word.

The Ledger Beneath the Ashes