The morning inspection began without ceremony.
Liang Wei stood where she had been placed and knew at once it was wrong.
The spacing was tighter. The line bent where it should have run straight. She was closer to the front than usual, close enough that a misstep would be noticed. She adjusted her posture without looking down, eyes forward, breath even. Around her, soldiers shifted into place. Armor settled. Boots scraped earth.
Li Běichén was nowhere in sight.
That absence pressed harder than any command. He never missed inspection.
A young soldier two ranks over tried to mirror her stance. His shoulders were too tense. His weight sat too high on his heels. She saw it immediately, the way one sees a mistake in their own reflection. She took half a step toward him, opened her mouth to correct it, then stopped.
Too many eyes.
She closed her mouth and instead turned slightly, as if adjusting her belt. When she spoke, her voice stayed low. "Where is the Commander."
The soldier glanced around before answering. "Not in camp. Several officers were called away before dawn."
"For what."
He hesitated, then shrugged. "Provisions. And news."
Inspection concluded quickly after that. Names were called. Numbers counted. Orders passed down without explanation. Liang Wei noted the gaps in the ranks. Too many for routine movement. Too many missing at once.
As they dispersed, the same soldier lingered near her, clearly eager to talk. "You have not heard."
"Heard what."
"The Crown Prince." He said the title with something like awe. "After Ashen Vale, he announced a Great Commemoration."
Liang Wei kept her face still.
"They say he wants every sacrifice recorded. War Merit Gold issued properly. No one forgotten." The soldier lowered his voice. "But there is more. Every slave brought back from Ashen Vale must sign a blood bond census. Names. Oaths. Blood prints. Even the Ashen Vale commander who was taken alive."
Her fingers curled slowly at her side.
"They say it is mercy." He continued. "Helping brave warriors misled by bad leaders."
Mercy.
Liang Wei felt something settle behind her ribs. Cold. Precise.
This was not chaos. It was controlled evil polished until it gleamed.
When the soldier finally drifted off, she stood where she was and listened to the camp wake fully around her. Word traveled fast. She heard the title again and again. Crown Prince. Crown Prince. Always the same reverent tone.
She had never seen his face.
But she had seen his family.
The memory came without warning. Fire. Smoke. The road choked with bodies. Princess Wu Yuhuan passing by without looking. Empress Wu Qingling's voice sharp with command as guards shoved them aside so the royal procession could flee. Madam An's hand tightening around hers. An Yue's blood soaked handkerchief clutched uselessly in her palm.
They had begged.
No one had listened.
Her jaw tightened. So this was remembrance. This was honor.
How clean it must feel to record suffering after it was finished.
She also noticed what the soldier had not said. The presence of men who should not have been here at all. Generals from the Central Kingdom. Advisors who wore court silk beneath their armor. Tang Yaojun among them, smiling as if he belonged everywhere. Planning war against his own Crown Prince, while claiming loyalty with a straight face.
Disgust rose, slow and thick.
She forced it down.
She had a schedule. She had learned long ago that anger wasted at the wrong time only fed the fire that killed you.
She turned away from the dispersing ranks and headed toward the trees.
The forest near the river was quiet in the morning. Mist clung low between roots. The sound of water masked movement. It was the kind of place soldiers went when they wanted to practice something they should not be practicing.
Liang Wei loosened her shoulders and drew a slow breath. She took the folded page from her sleeve and smoothed it carefully.
Sealing Clouds.
The first diagram was simple at a glance. Yun Shou. Cloud Hands.
She stepped into position.
Immediately, it felt wrong.
Her arms moved too stiffly. The circle collapsed inward. Her weight drifted without purpose. The movement looked neither defensive nor offensive, just awkward. She adjusted then tried again. This time it looked worse.
She scowled faintly and tried to remember the feeling rather than the shape. Madam An had never corrected by sight alone. She had always pressed a hand to the waist and said, softer. Let it pass through you.
Liang Wei softened too much. The result was almost comical. Her balance tipped. Her elbow drifted. The stance lost its meaning entirely.
A laugh broke the quiet.
She froze.
Two soldiers stood a short distance away, half hidden by trees. They had not meant to spy. Curiosity had simply gotten ahead of them.
"What is that." One of them asked. "Some new form."
Liang Wei straightened at once, pulling the movement back into something ordinary. "Nothing."
The other soldier's gaze dropped to her sword. Sunlight caught the metal and the crest along the guard flashed briefly, brighter than it should have. His brows knit. "That blade. It looked like it moved."
"It did not."
"You were about to strike."
She met his eyes then. Flat. Unwelcoming. "Go."
They hesitated. Then, wisely, they did.
Liang Wei waited until their footsteps faded before exhaling. Her heart beat harder than the movement had warranted. Not from fear. From frustration.
She folded the page again and tucked it away. Not here. Not like this.
As she turned back toward camp, the river murmured on, indifferent. Somewhere beyond the trees, men were being written into records with blood. Names fixed forever under the Crown Prince's seal.
Liang Wei walked on, resentment sharp and newly honed, her purpose no longer blurred.
If memory was being weaponized, then so would she be.
And this time, she would not be forgotten.