Chapter 27: The Price of a Secret
The silence in the Shen study was heavy enough to crush bone. Shen Yao stood over Wei'an's desk, her fingers trembling as she clutched the rough, blood-stained parchment of the Grey-Vulture contract.
She didn't find a list of luxuries or a deed for a brothel. She found a death warrant.
"He... he didn't use our name?" she whispered, her voice cracking. Shen Mu, standing beside her, looked like he had seen a ghost.
"No," Mu replied, his voice barely audible. "He excluded the Shen House entirely. Every copper of that 30,000 silver loan is tied to his personal shops and his own life. If the city doesn't fall to him in thirty days, the Vultures don't come for us, Yao'er. They come for him. Alone."
Yao'er felt a sickening lurch in her stomach. She thought of the kiss on the cheek, the white robes, and the way she had mocked him for "playing house." He had walked into the mouth of a dragon to buy her family a future, and he had done it while she was busy sharpening her spear to spite him.
"Gather the guards," Yao'er said, her eyes burning with a terrifying, cold light. "Every single one of them. If a single hair on his head is harmed, I will burn the Grey-Vultures out of existence."
In the dark alley of Jianghe City, the air was cold and smelled of damp stone. Ten assassins in the Yan family's colors stood like shadows, their crossbows leveled at the man in the white robes.
"Li Wei'an," the lead assassin sneered. "The Master of the Yan House is generous. Option one: You leave the city tonight and never return. Option two: We kill you here and dump you in the river. Which will it be, merchant?"
Wei'an leaned against the wall, his breathing slightly shallow. He looked at the crossbows, then at his own hands. "You know, in business, there's always a third option."
"Oh? And what is that?"
"Option three," Wei'an said, a sharp, jagged grin cutting across his face. "I stay, and you all find out why I'm a very bad investment."
He didn't wait. He lunged. Wei'an was no master of the blade—he was an amateur at best—but he was desperate and he was fast. He tackled the nearest man, using his weight to knock the crossbow wide. Thwip! A bolt grazed his arm, tearing the white silk.
He swung a short-dagger he'd hidden in his sleeve, a frantic, messy arc that caught an assassin in the shoulder. But the numbers were against him. A blade plunged into his side, a searing heat that made the world tilt.
"Die, you arrogant rat!" an assassin hissed.
Suddenly, the sound of a distant roar echoed through the alley. It was the sound of hundreds of voices—the city's poor, gathered at the nearby square for the grain distribution Wei'an had organized.
"Someone's coming!" the lead assassin whispered. "Finish him!"
The blade bit into Wei'an's shoulder, a second deep stab. He collapsed, his white robes blossoming with crimson. Hearing the heavy boots of a large force approaching, the assassins panicked and vanished into the rooftops.
Commander Sang arrived like a thunderstorm. He had been scouring the city, screaming at the merchant's personal guards for letting him wander off alone. He found Wei'an slumped against a grain sack, looking like a broken doll in red-and-white.
"Master Li!" Sang roared, dropping his spear and kneeling in the mud.
Wei'an's eyes flickered open, glazed with pain. He saw Sang's face and let out a wet, weak chuckle. "Took you... long enough... old man. Your... dental plan... is revoked."
"Shut up, you fool! You're bleeding out!" Sang's hands, usually so steady, were shaking with rage. He looked at the deep wounds and felt a rare, stinging moisture in his eyes.
Wei'an grabbed Sang's collar, pulling him close with a sudden, desperate strength. "Sang... tell the Patriarch. Sell the mine. Low profit... do it now."
"What?! You've lost your mind!"
"Listen!" Wei'an coughed, blood staining his lips. "Low price... but demand concessions. Land... troop protection... and a marriage guarantee. Tie the Main Branch to us... legally. Make them... responsible for our safety. Go."
Wei'an's eyes rolled back as he slipped into unconsciousness. Sang stood up, his face a mask of iron fury. "Inform the Estate! The Master has been struck! Tell the Patriarch the 'Merchant's Gamble' is in play!"
The Final Move
When the news reached the Shen Estate, the reaction was a tidal wave of grief and fury. Lord Shen Rui, the Patriarch, sat in silence as his daughter screamed for a horse. But as he looked at the report of Wei'an's words, he understood.
He called Lord Shen Tai of the Main Branch into the room.
"You want the mine?" the Patriarch asked, his voice dead.
"Finally, you see reason," Shen Tai sneered.
"I will sell it to you for half its value," the Patriarch said. "But in exchange, the Main Branch will sign a binding Imperial Contract. You will provide 1,000 elite troops for the Viscounty's permanent defense. You will grant us the deed to the three northern districts. And you will officially recognize my daughter's marriage to Li Wei'an as an Imperial Union, protected by the Grand Tutor's seal."
Shen Tai paused. It was a bargain—the mine was worth ten times that. But the legal entanglements were heavy. He saw the "low price" and his greed won. "Done. Sign the papers."
He didn't realize that by signing, he had just made himself the legal protector of the very man he wanted to destroy. Wei'an had turned himself into a sacrificial lamb to turn the Main Branch into a shield.
The Hook:
As the sun rose over Jianghe City, Wei'an lay in a coma, his life hanging by a thread. But the townspeople were eating his grain, the Main Branch was legally bound to protect the Shen lands, and in the shadows, the Yan family realized that by stabbing the merchant, they had accidentally made him a God.