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The Jiao Tu Beast on the Gilded Coiling Dragon Column opened its Bronze mouth, a wisp of Blue Smoke curling up between its fangs. I knelt on the icy, cracked golden bricks, the Coldness creeping up my bones, while the hem of my embroidered golden phoenix tail skirt rippled in the mist of Dragon's Blood Incense. At my waist, Chu Hengdi's jade ornament shaped like a dragon swayed with his movements, the intricate fish scale pattern at the chipped edge identical to the fragment of jade found in the assassin's sleeve three days prior—an unmistakable mark of the Southern Liang Shadow Guard's "Broken Jade Mark" technique.
"Li'er, do you know about the urgent message from the northern borders?"
The tip of his black dragon-patterned boots flicked up a folded paper that brushed against my forehead. The crimson characters "Southern Liang Movements" tore through the silk, ink smudged with reddish-brown stains. I covered my nose with my sleeve and inhaled; the metallic scent mingled with dragon brain incense—evidence of a message soaked in dove's blood.
"I have heard that the Southern Liang envoy will arrive in the capital next month." My fingertip traced over the word "Hostage," tapping lightly on a tea stain, causing brown spots to flake away and reveal a silver-threaded wolf head totem beneath. "But I wonder... which prince will come?"
The sound of my Agate Ring striking the armrest of the dragon throne echoed like a warning bell. Chu Hengdi suddenly leaned forward, candlelight casting deep shadows across his brow. "Three years ago during the autumn hunt..." The gilded paperweight pressed against my old scar on my forehead, its cold touch overlapping with memories of arrows. That day, the deer calls in the forest abruptly ceased; Consort Shu's guards shot an arrow that pierced my shoulder, yet it bore the emblem of the Second Prince's Residence.
A sudden gust swept through the warm chamber, causing shadows from twelve pearl lamps to dance chaotically like demons. When the seventh copper lamp burst into flames, a soft sound came from behind the screen—the Golden Crossbow being drawn back—three fingers wide, seven inches long; the Dragon Scale Guard never needed a second arrow to kill.
"Does Father Emperor's wound still hurt?" I suddenly stood up, sweeping my wide sleeves to knock down a nine-turn exquisite box atop the Jade Case of Azure. The seven-treasure heart lock sprang open as it hit the ground, half of a Tiger Talisman sliding out from within, stained with blood; on its cover page was boldly written "Yongchang Grain Transport Map."
Chu Hengdi's tapping ceased abruptly as eighteen silver glimmers flashed from behind the Pillars of Coiling Dragons. The Dragon Scale Guard had drawn his goose-feather knife three inches from its sheath, its blade reflecting the fine sweat at my temples. Yet he smiled and clapped his hands, pressing the Tiger Talisman into my palm with his gilded armor. "Li'er, do you know why I have kept Consort Shu until now?"
Thunder rumbled outside as three pearl lamps extinguished in response. In that moment of shifting light and shadow, I deciphered the emperor's silent lips—"To raise Venom requires a vessel." As lightning tore through the sky, he slid out a Blacksteel box from his sleeve; dark brown blood clots stained its Taotie Pattern lock.
"Take this." A violent cough shook him, dislodging his crown adorned with Dong Zhu; blood spattered onto the hidden wolf head totem on my message. "Go investigate Yongchang Grain House..." Before he could finish speaking, a Yellow Gate Attendant stumbled into the hall, his glass crown askew atop his hair. "Your Majesty! There's been flooding at Azure Dragon Square!"
I tightened my grip on the still-warm Blacksteel Casket and retreated hastily, catching a glimpse in its reflective surface of Consort Shu's Zhai Niao Step Palanquin passing around a corner. Her fingers dyed with Dan Kou lifted the beaded curtain; her phoenix eyes cast a sidelong glance with a cold smile—just as they had when she oversaw executions in my past life.
The torrential rain washed over the white marble steps; in my palm, the Tiger Talisman felt hot against the downpour. The Blacksteel Casket oozed scarlet fluid from its seams; Southern Liang's hidden text emerged upon contact with water like centipedes crawling across silk: "Those carrying Tiger Talismans must meet at Dark Channel during Hour of the Rat." On the cinnabar-painted Imperial Map of the royal city, Azure Dragon Square was being scorched black by licking flames.
"Your Highness, should we prepare a sedan chair?" Zi Juan held up an oil-paper umbrella as raindrops tapped out secret messages on its ribs. I gazed toward the southeast where flames shot into the sky; memories from my past life clung to me like an incurable disease—on January 7th of Yongding First Year, at that same location, Million Stones Disaster Relief Grain turned to ashes in an explosion. And that day, it was this very emperor who handed me a fire starter while now he coughed blood in his study.
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