The question lingered in the pavilion long after X'ian asked it.
The Seventh Prince studied the letter in silence. Moonlight reflected across the pond behind him, but his attention remained fixed on the page. For the first time since she had met him, he looked like a man searching for an answer rather than one who already possessed it.
Wei Feng broke the silence first.
"That's a fair question."
The prince folded the letter carefully.
"Perhaps your father changed his mind."
"Or perhaps he never trusted you in the first place," Wei Feng replied.
The prince didn't seem offended.
"Also possible."
X'ian watched him closely. His composure remained intact, but something about his reaction felt genuine. If he were lying, he was extraordinarily skilled at it.
Shen Guo's warning returned to her mind, power was rarely what it appeared to be, the prince looked toward the city.
"We're asking the wrong question."
Wei Feng raised an eyebrow.
"Then enlighten us."
"The important question isn't why he gave me the ledger."
The prince's gaze sharpened.
"It's why he expected someone to come looking for it after his death."
No one immediately answered, because the logic was difficult to ignore, Lord Xian Ren had hidden messages, prepared contingencies, left warnings.
He had anticipated failure, that meant he had anticipated enemies, perhaps even betrayal, the prince unfolded the map again and examined it beneath the lantern light.
"The mausoleum opens at sunrise."
"How many people know that?" Wei Feng asked.
"Thousands."
"How many know about the map?"
The prince's expression darkened.
"Hopefully only us."
"Hopefully isn't a strategy."
"No."
The prince rolled up the map.
"It's a prayer."
Wei Feng laughed.
"Now I know we're in trouble."
The mood would have been amusing under different circumstances.
Instead, tension continued tightening around them, someone had sent the box, someone had known where to find X'ian, someone had known her father's hidden symbol.
The number of players involved seemed to grow with every answer they uncovered, the prince stood.
"We leave immediately."
"For the mausoleum?" X'ian asked.
"Not yet."
His gaze settled on the bronze key.
"We find out what this opens first."
The key itself appeared ordinary, bronze, worn from use, no markings, no identifying features.
Yet Lord Xian Ren had included it for a reason, nothing about the man suggested carelessness, Wei Feng picked it up and examined it.
"Looks old."
"That's helpful."
"You're welcome."
The prince ignored him.
"We split up."
"No," Shen Guo said immediately.
The old strategist had remained quiet for much of the evening, observing more than speaking.
Now everyone turned toward him.
"We stay together."
Wei Feng sighed.
"Here we go."
Shen Guo's expression remained serious.
"Someone delivered a letter from a dead man."
He pointed toward the box.
"Someone knows where we are."
Then toward the city beyond.
"And someone is searching for the same thing."
His gaze settled on X'ian.
"Separating now would be foolish."
No one argued, because no one disagreed.
The streets of Tianzhou remained busy despite the late hour. Lanterns illuminated crowded avenues while merchants prepared for the following day's trade. To ordinary citizens, it seemed like any other night.
Yet X'ian noticed something different, more soldiers, more patrols, more checkpoints, the city felt tense, as though it sensed an approaching storm.
They crossed several districts before arriving at an old section of the capital rarely visited by nobles. Narrow alleys twisted between aging buildings. The wealth and grandeur of the imperial center seemed very far away.
Wei Feng eventually stopped before a small storefront, the sign above the entrance had faded with age, the building looked abandoned.
The prince frowned.
"Here?"
Wei Feng nodded.
"The owner owes me a favor."
"Does he know that?"
"Not yet."
The prince looked unconvinced, they entered, dust covered most surfaces, Shelves leaned crookedly against the walls, the shop appeared deserted, then a voice emerged from the darkness.
"You've aged badly."
Wei Feng smiled.
"So have you."
An elderly man stepped into view carrying a lantern. His eyes widened the moment he recognized Wei Feng.
"I heard you died."
"I heard the same thing."
The old merchant stared for several seconds before shaking his head.
"I should have known better."
His attention shifted toward the others, especially the prince, recognition flashed across his face, he wisely chose not to comment, Wei Feng placed the bronze key on a nearby table.
"We need information."
The merchant picked it up, at first, his expression remained neutral, then everything changed, his hand froze, his eyes widened.
For a moment, genuine fear crossed his face, the reaction was impossible to miss, the prince stepped forward.
"You recognize it."
The merchant looked up slowly.
"Where did you get this?"
"Answer the question."
The merchant swallowed, his gaze moved toward the locked door at the back of the shop, then back to the key.
Finally, he set it down.
"I haven't seen one in twenty-five years."
A chill settled over the room.
"One?" X'ian asked.
The merchant nodded.
"There were five."
Nobody spoke, the number felt important, dangerously important.
Wei Feng folded his arms.
"Five keys."
"Yes."
"What do they open?"
The merchant hesitated, then shook his head.
"I don't know."
"You're lying."
"No."
His voice became firm.
"I truly don't know."
The prince studied him carefully.
"What do you know?"
The merchant looked exhausted suddenly, as though old memories had resurfaced.
"I know the men who carried those keys disappeared."
The room fell silent.
"All of them?" X'ian asked.
"Every single one."
The merchant lowered himself into a chair.
"The empire called them traitors."
The prince's eyes narrowed.
"And you?"
The merchant laughed bitterly.
"I think traitors don't usually spend their lives protecting the empire."
The statement struck everyone differently, X'ian felt her heartbeat quicken.
Her father, the officer from Black Ridge, now these mysterious key holders, a pattern was emerging, one she couldn't yet see clearly. The merchant reached beneath the table and removed an old ledger.
Not the ledger, a ledger, its pages were yellow with age, he flipped through them carefully, then stopped.
His face went pale.
"What is it?" Wei Feng asked.
The merchant didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he turned the book around, a page had been marked decades earlier, five names were written there, four had been crossed out in black ink, only one remained untouched.
The room grew very quiet, the prince stared at the surviving name, Wei Feng stared too, then both men looked at each other, not with confusion, with recognition.
X'ian felt unease rising inside her.
"Who is it?"
Neither answered, the merchant finally broke the silence, his voice had become little more than a whisper.
"He's alive."
Wei Feng looked troubled, the prince looked worse.
"That's impossible."
The merchant slowly shook his head.
"No."
He pointed at the final name.
"What's impossible is who he became."
X'ian stepped closer, her eyes found the page, found the surviving name, and felt the ground disappear beneath her feet.
Because written there, in faded ink more than two decades old, was a name she already knew.
A name feared throughout the empire, a name connected to the destruction of her family.
Zhao Kang.