It began, as most revolutions did, with a forged seal and a whisper in the dark.
For three days, Ziyan's group moved like shadows—Feiyan, still weak but burning with fury; Lianhua, cold and precise; Shuye, more determined than ever. Duan Rulan had provided the door into the court, but it was they who opened it.
One stolen ledger.
Two forged petitions.
Three false ledgers smuggled into the Ministry of Supply.
By the fourth day, the web was complete.
"By tonight," Lianhua said calmly, "he'll have no escape left."
Ziyan stood at the window of their rented chamber, watching the smoke of evening kitchens drift into the sky. She could feel the Phoenix mark throb faintly beneath her sleeve—not a warning, but a pulse of recognition.
"This is the end of him," she said.
Feiyan, bruised but recovering, leaned back against her cushion. "I'll believe that when I see him in chains."
They saw it before sunset.
Prince Zhaoyang himself rode into the Eastern Capital with two banners bearing the Emperor's seal. His voice was never raised, but his words spread through the city like wildfire.
"By order of His Imperial Majesty," he declared at Li Jun's estate, "Lord Li Jun is to be detained and investigated on charges of treason, corruption, and conspiracy against the throne."
Ziyan watched from a rooftop, the cold wind flattening her cloak against her spine. Below, Duan Rulan stood beside the prince, face unreadable.
Li Jun emerged without resistance. Dressed in deep green court robes, he walked with the dignity of a man who believed himself too important to fall.
When he saw Ziyan watching from above, their eyes met.
For the first time, he didn't sneer.
He looked... curious.
As if trying to decide if she had been a mistake.
Later, in the chamber beneath the Ministry of Justice, Lord Li Jun sat shackled in gold-threaded silk cords. No chains—he was still a noble, still the Empress's cousin. But the walls pressed close, and even the torchlight seemed to mock him.
Ziyan entered the room with Shuye and Feiyan at her side. Lianhua remained outside, listening from the corridor. Duan Rulan stood near the door, her silence as heavy as judgment.
Li Jun lifted his gaze. "I suppose I should be impressed."
"No," Ziyan said. "You should be afraid."
He smiled faintly. "The Emperor sends his cousin to arrest me, and the girl I tried to erase leads the charge. How poetic."
Feiyan crossed her arms. "You knew what happened to her. You knew about the kidnapping."
"I knew more than you could understand," Li Jun said, suddenly tired. "But none of it matters now."
"It matters to us," Ziyan said, stepping forward. "Who gave the order? Who planned it?"
Li Jun was quiet for a moment. Then he spoke, slowly.
"There are families in Qi who've ruled from the shadows for centuries. Yours was one of them. But something changed. You were born... and so was that mark."
Ziyan's hand clenched over her sleeve.
"They feared what you might become," he continued. "What you might awaken. So they plotted to remove you quietly. Not kill. Just vanish."
"But someone interfered," Shuye said. "Someone attacked the kidnappers."
Li Jun gave a sharp laugh. "Yes. A man with no name. No crest. But he wasn't a rebel or mercenary. He was trained. Precise. I only saw fragments. But he left ten men dead. Without making a sound."
Ziyan's voice dropped. "You knew him?"
"No. But someone in the palace does." Li Jun's eyes flicked toward Duan Rulan. "You don't pull off a silent massacre in the capital's western forest without someone high up looking the other way."
Rulan said nothing, her gaze steel.
Ziyan's voice turned firm. "Tell me who it was. The name."
Li Jun's eyes softened for a moment—almost pitying.
"You're strong. I see that now. But strength won't protect you from what's buried under this empire."
He leaned forward.
"If you dig too deep, you'll wish you had stayed forgotten."
And with that, he raised his bound hands—revealing a hidden ring.
Before anyone could stop him, he bit down.
Snap.
Foam spilled from his lips. His body convulsed once—then fell still.
"No—!" Ziyan lunged, but it was already too late.
The silence that followed was deeper than shock.
Duan Rulan stepped forward, checking his pulse. Then she straightened, her jaw tight.
"A palace poison," she said grimly. "Fast. Clean. Someone gave him an out."
Ziyan stared down at Li Jun's lifeless body, fists trembling. "He was afraid."
"No," Rulan said. "He was silenced."
That night, they gathered in a safehouse Rulan had arranged. The red ledger lay between them—proof of Li Jun's crimes, though not the whole truth. Not anymore.
"You did this," Rulan said quietly, pouring tea into plain cups. "You broke one of the Empress's pillars. The Emperor noticed."
Feiyan sipped her tea, her face unreadable. "And the Empress?"
"She's pretending it didn't happen. For now." Rulan's eyes met Ziyan's. "That gives you time."
Ziyan looked down at the table. Her hand brushed the phoenix mark. It was quiet now—but alive. As if waiting.
"He knew something," she murmured. "Something more."
"And you'll find it," Rulan said. "You've earned allies."
She placed a lacquered token on the table. "Use this. It'll grant you access to a shopfront and a few safe names. Build something here. Slowly. Carefully."
Ziyan took it.
Rulan stood. "You remind me of someone I knew once. She didn't last long. But she made the capital tremble."
She looked to each of them. "You've won a battle. But you've also declared yourselves. Be ready for the next."
And then she left.
Ziyan stood on the balcony, watching the glowing roofs of the capital.
Feiyan sat behind her, cleaning her blade. Lianhua was near the window, writing something in perfect columns. Shuye, for once, was sleeping without nightmares.
Ziyan pressed her fingers against the phoenix mark.
"You were never meant to survive," Li Jun had said.
But she had.
Now came the reckoning.