The night wind curled through the alleys like a wandering spirit, stirring banners and whispering against shuttered windows. Li Wei moved at a steady pace, not rushing despite the razor-thin margin of safety he'd earned by slipping past Huo's enforcers.

Young Master Wei held the ledger's weight in his sleeve and the feeling felt as heavy as iron, though it was no larger than a folded fan. Its presence tugged at the spiritual flow of the city, drawing faint pulses from the leyline beneath the streets.

"Such a small thing," he murmured, "yet the Oolong Group guards it like a dragon guards its progeny." Ahead, the great lanterns of the metropolitan district burned bright, illuminating the arterial streets of the grand Oolong marketplace.

Voices drifted through the air, it was late in the night and vendors were beginning to pack up, drunken patrons could be seen stumbling home, guards exchanging shifts. However, beneath the surface lay a festering network as taut as a drawn bowstring.

Li Wei slipped into a narrow passage behind a row of lacquered shops. Here the air had changed sharply emanating a heavy, metallic, tinge with the faint scent of spirit ink lingering.

He had found a perfect inception point.

He extended two fingers, channeling a thread of qi into the emerald compass hidden in his robe. The artifact thrummed softly, its needle spinning once before locking in a direction facing the northwest.

Toward the upper terraces where the High ranking merchants kept their private manors. "Then you really are here, Tang Li…" he whispered. Her spiritual signature was faint but easy to distinguish. Delicate, like a lotus petal, yet marked with the pressure of calamity. Not immediate danger, but the threat was drawing close.

The compass pulsed again, this time pulsing to the east. Li Wei vaulted silently onto the rooftop above him, most of the tiles barely shifted under his feet. From this vantage point, he could see the city sprawling below.

There was a great tapestry of wealth, desperation, and ambition woven into one massive organism. The Oolong Group's power could be felt in every stone, banners hung from nearly every archway. Numerous patrols walked with a great deal of arrogance, completely throwing away any caution.

Flamboyant sigils depicting a set of double spirals that greatly resembled brewing tea, were etched onto every toll gate and trading stall. "This humble city," Li Wei muttered, "is nothing more than a merchant's empire wearing the skin of civilization."

He landed on the next roof with a whisper of cloth, Then on to the next and the next. He observed the compass needle tilt from one direction to the other. But as he approached the elevated district, he felt it the faint tremor of a spiritual force.

Amazingly the natural phenomenon was rolling across the rooftops like a breath of cold fog, causing the city's qi to shift abruptly. Someone or something powerful had been startled awake and regained consciousness.

Li Wei slowed, narrowing his eyes. His fingertips brushed the ledger through his sleeve. There were piles of answers held within such as records of assassination contracts, forced debts, names erased from official rolls, and more importantly

Bountiful transactions involving women and children, including Tang Li. The young master's jaw tightened slightly, He knew that leaving with her would be challenging

The needle pointed toward a looming archway carved from black granite.

Beyond it rose a cluster of manors crowded together like predatory beasts—each perched atop terraces guarded by spirit beasts carved from stone.

This was the Iron Gate District, it was were high seats of the Oolong elite took part in all sorts of vices. Just approaching the outer wall revealed the difference in conditions. The qi was denser here, woven with protective formations and layered by at least three tiers of defensive talismans.

Li Wei landed beside an ornamental column draped in wisteria vines. From here, he studied the gate. Heavily armored guards loomed by their outposts, while two captains were stationed at each side.

All cultivators in the early Spirit Anchoring realm, certainly not elite by the imperial standards. They were still far beyond the average mercenaries, but the greatest problem was not their cultivation level. It was their coordination.

The shifts were tight and planned, while their breathing was steady. These men had been trained by someone accustomed to battlefield precision, not merchant politics. "So Huo is not merely a steward," Li Wei muttered. "He has military roots. That may just complicate matters."

He closed his eyes and pressed his palm to the ground. A ripple of qi flowed into the cobblestone, slipping under the formation barrier like a whisper.

The ground answered.

Tap—

Tap—

Tap—

Footsteps, far away.

Marching.

Approaching the gate from the inner district.

Li Wei's brow furrowed.

"There is quite a group coming."

He slid back into shadow just as a procession of robed men approached. They bore crates sealed with iron clamps and stamped with the Oolong sigil. Leading them was a tall man with sharp features and a jade clasp binding his hair.

Li Wei recognized him from intelligence reports. Lan Zhuo, head of internal arbitration. The shrewd bastard was one of the Oolong Group's most feared administrators, cold and unflinching. The man was ruthlessly efficient with his tasks.

He carried a bundle of scrolls under his arm, their ends glowing faintly with a seal of spiritual heat. The ledger in Li Wei's sleeve pulsed faintly, evidently the scrolls and the ledger were somehow connected.

"Maintain formation!" Han Zhuo barked a command, as the guards responded in practiced unison.

Li Wei frowned, this was not your typical merchant convoy. These men moved like a small, elite unit. If they were mobilizing at this hour, it meant that trouble was on the horizon.

He leaned forward, listening. "Master Huo will receive the scrolls personally," Han Zhuo said, his tone as sharp as a knife's edge. "There is no time for deviation or delay."

"And the girl?" one guard asked.

Li Wei paused and listened in.

Han Zhuo glanced around before lowering his voice. "Her transfer is scheduled before sunrise," he murmured. "She will be moved from the Long Hall to the northern annex. After that…" The tall merchant shrugged lightly. "…she will no longer be the Oolong Group's concern."

Li Wei's hand clenched around the ledger, Tang Li was obviously nearby. Still alive, but not for long. The northern annex had garnered reputation as a place where the Oolong Group "processed" valuable acquisitions before sending them deeper into their network of trade.

A cold qi settled in Li Wei's chest. "So. They intend to move her by dawn." He slipped back from the rooftop and followed the convoy at a distance, weaving through shadow and moonlight.

The convoy entered the Iron Gate District. Li Wei followed them, keenly slipping through a crack in the formation as the gate closed. It was a narrow window, barely a breath in time. The young master's efforts proved to be enough.

Within, the air was strangely still.

Almost motionless

Li Wei's steps slowed as he took in all his surroundings. The manors were massive and made largely from stone and lacquered wood, layered with talismans glowing faintly with suppressed power. Spirit lamps lined the walkways, flickering with bluish flame.

It felt less like a noble district…

…and more like the outer perimeter of a fortress.

He kept moving until the compass pulsed again, this time the needle pointed toward a long, low building nestled beside a garden wall. It appeared to be the Long Hall, where two towering guards patrolled its entrance. Both carried large halberds etched with silver script.

Their qi signatures were subdued but present, likely veterans of past conflicts. Li Wei crouched atop an adjacent pavilion roof, from were he watched and waited. Measuring his time, until the guards reached the far end of their patrol did he strike at them .

One flick of his wrist sent a thread-thin strand of qi slicing through the air, snuffing out the lantern nearest the entrance. The guards turned immediately, "Who goes there?" Li Wei dropped silently behind them, fingers brushing their pressure points.

Two muffled thuds, as a pair of bodies was caught and lowered gently to the ground. He approached the door, Light seeped from within. Young Master Wei pressed his ear against the frame, where he could hear crying.

Soft.

Muffled.

A child's sob.

Li Wei immediately unsealed the door's talisman and slipped inside. The hall was dim, lined with scroll racks and crude sleeping mats. At the far end, curled against a wooden pillar, was Tang Li.

She was thinner than before, her hair had been tangled up. The robes she wore were dirty, but the maiden was alive.

"Tang Li," Li Wei whispered.

Her head jerked up, as the woman's eyes widened. There was fear first, then disbelief, then tears welling.

"B-Brother Wei…?" Her voice cracked.

Li Wei knelt, placing a hand over her trembling shoulder.

"Quiet," he murmured. "You're safe now." He extended his qi, soothing the residual shackles clinging to her spirit. Soon the maiden's breath steadied.

But then her eyes widened again, glancing past him. "You shouldn't have come," she whispered. "They're—"

The door slammed open.

Li Wei turned sharply.

Han Zhuo stood there.

Scrolls in one hand.

A thin blade in the other.

Cold fury carved across his face.

"So," he said softly, "the rat found its way into the granary."

His blade rose.

"And now… it is time to exterminate it."