Li Wei retraced his steps from the alley, letting the hum of the city envelop him once more. The scent of decay lingered faintly, a stubborn reminder of the consequences of unchecked ambition. He paused at a quiet intersection where lanterns cast long, trembling shadows across cobblestones slick with evening rain. Every sense in his body prickled; this city breathed strategy, and it had eyes everywhere.

He needed leverage. The ledger beneath the stone serpent was a key, but he could not storm the Oolong Group's compound without knowledge of the terrain, their guards, their patterns. Every alley, every stairway, every window could conceal a watcher—or a trap. Patience, Li Wei reminded himself, was a weapon sharper than any blade.

The first step was to gather intelligence, and for that, he needed eyes on the inside. The high-end teahouses mentioned by the foreman were more than places to sip brewed leaves; they were sanctuaries of whispered secrets. Diplomacy here was less about courtesy than perception—the careful reading of expressions, gestures, and the ever-important placement of coin.

Li Wei's gaze drifted to the Pavilion of a Thousand Delights, its gilded exterior gleaming under the moonlight. Music and laughter spilled onto the streets, but the laughter felt brittle, like glass ready to shatter. He approached the front, moving with the ease of a man accustomed to scrutiny, and allowed the doorman to appraise him.

"A table for one," Li Wei said lightly, producing a small pouch of spirit stones that clinked softly as he offered it with the faintest of bows. The doorman's eyes flicked down at the coins, then back at Li Wei. Not a rich offering, but enough to suggest influence—or at least access. He was admitted.

Inside, the Pavilion was a maze of perfumed corridors and private alcoves, the soft glow of lanterns accentuating silken curtains and carved mahogany. Patrons lounged on cushions, their attention half on the musicians, half on the companions at their sides. Li Wei observed them carefully, noting the subtle signals of power—the tilt of a head, the cadence of a laugh, the quiet hand resting on a concealed hilt.

He found his vantage point in a quiet corner, eyes scanning the room, ears attuned to conversations. He had not long to wait. A trio of men approached the central dais, their movements precise, their robes embroidered with the insignia of the Oolong Group.

The tallest, whose bearing radiated authority without arrogance, spoke in a low, deliberate voice. The others laughed softly, deferentially, but with an undercurrent of fear. Li Wei's mind cataloged each figure, each mannerism, each potential weak point.

The man who might be Steward Huo did not stay long; he emerged only briefly, then vanished behind a concealed door. But the pattern was clear. He frequented the Pavilion during these hours, surrounded by enforcers who were more shadow than flesh.

A direct confrontation here would be folly. Observation, subtlety, and the slow unthreading of his defenses would be the way forward.

Li Wei's attention was drawn to a smaller detail: a server carrying a tray of delicate pastries. There was something unnatural in her movement, a stiffness that suggested training beyond mere etiquette.

Her eyes, though, betrayed a hidden tension, a flicker of discomfort when she glanced toward the hidden doorway Steward Huo had vanished through. Li Wei made a mental note: allies sometimes came from the most unlikely places.

He left the Pavilion with the night pressing close around him, the cool air a balm to the oppressive warmth of intrigue and perfume. The streets had changed since his first observation.

Shadows seemed to linger longer, and the city's pulse had shifted—something was stirring within the Oolong Group, perhaps the arrival of an unexpected shipment or the sudden movement of a high-value acquisition. Li Wei did not rush. The ledger beneath the stone serpent would not yield itself to haste.

Returning to the alley near the decayed man, Li Wei crouched by the remnants of discarded talismans and broken bindings. He examined the ground, letting his spiritual sense brush lightly over the area.

The failed experiment's aura had left a residue, faint but traceable. Following it, Li Wei traced a path of subtle qi distortions weaving toward the northern edge of the city, where the Jade Pavilion loomed over the skyline like a watchful predator.

It was there, beneath the carved visage of a coiled stone serpent guarding the pavilion's inner courtyard, that the ledger was hidden. The statue was ancient, its surface worn smooth by centuries of exposure, yet the faint gleam of spiritual binding indicated a modern reinforcement.

This one was meant to resist prying hands and wandering senses. Li Wei crouched, examining the runes etched faintly along the serpent's base. Each stroke was deliberate, each curve a testament to both craft and cruelty. This was no mere ledger; it was a lock, a trap, and a map all in one.

He produced a small talisman from his robe, its paper thin but inscribed with an invocation designed to dissolve bindings. A faint hiss of qi rippled through the stone serpent as the talisman touched its base, and the faint glow of protective runes began to flicker. Li Wei's heart did not race.

His breathing remained steady, his focus absolute. The city could pulse with chaos, but he was a single point of stillness cutting through it. A soft shift of air behind him made him freeze. Movement in the courtyard—shadows of figures trained in both observation and combat. Li Wei's hand brushed the hilt of his dagger, but he did not move yet.

Observation first. The enforcers were skilled, yet they lacked subtlety in this situation. They sought outward threats, not inward ingenuity.

He stepped back lightly, retreating into the shadows, and allowed the protective talisman's spell to complete. A faint click, the subtle displacement of stone, and a hidden panel slid aside, revealing a small, dimly lit chamber. Within, stacks of ledgers and parchments were arranged with meticulous care, each labeled in ink and blood alike.

Li Wei approached, noting immediately the differences between simple records of trade and the far darker ones chronicling acquisitions, bindings, and spiritual extractions.

There it was: the ledger that the decayed man had whispered about. Beneath the stone serpent, it had been kept not as an afterthought but as the foundation of control. Every name, every transaction, every potential manipulated or discarded was etched in meticulous detail.

Li Wei ran his finger lightly across the first page, sensing the weight of lives recorded in ink that carried the residue of spiritual coercion, he would need a few local allies. He would need a bit of cunning. And above all, he would need time.

Valuable time to unravel the Oolong Group's network before they realized their ledger was no longer secure. The city of coin was formidable, but even gold could rust, even influence could crumble, when struck at the right point.

Li Wei closed the ledger, concealing it carefully beneath his robes, and allowed himself a faint smile. The reckoning would not be swift, nor would it be simple. But the scales were beginning to tip. And the first stone had been placed.