Colonel He did not ask the question again.
He merely remained on the other side of the folding table while the radio at his shoulder continued to spill fragments of Qingyuan's unraveling afternoon into the toll station.
"The west queue has reached the clinic road."
"Supply guards are refusing Council identification."
"There are civilians gathering near Warehouse Two. No shots fired."
"The north pump crew says they have fuel until evening."
Each report arrived in a different voice, but they all carried the same problem. Director Song had not needed to seize Qingyuan's gates. He had only needed to close the doors behind which people believed their next meal was waiting.
Tang Li Yue had known clan elders who ruled in the same way. They spoke endlessly of honor, ancestry, and sacred duty while quietly placing their hands around the kitchens, medicine halls, and treasury. A person could argue with doctrine. Hunger was far less patient.
