Your enemies will tell you who they fear by what they choose to destroy. Watch not where they strike, but what they seek to hide beneath the rubble of their violence.
—Master Wu Zhi, Commander of Ten Thousand
Dawn painted the garden in soft hues as Xiulan fought back another yawn. The guards shuffled into formation, their leather armor creaking against the morning silence. Mei Chen emerged from behind a decorative screen, her new training outfit fitting perfectly against her small frame—the alterations had worked wonders.
Xiulan smiled at her young maid before turning to address the assembled guards. "Attention!"
Twenty pairs of boots snapped together as backs straightened.
"Starting today, half of you will join me for morning exercises right here. We’ll rotate weekly to accommodate your guard schedules." Xiulan clasped her hands behind her back.
A guard in the front row cleared his throat. "Miss Lin?"
"Speak."
"You intend to train with us?" Uncertainty tinged his words.
Xiulan glanced down at her practical guard attire—a stark contrast to her usual silk robes. "Indeed I do."
She adjusted her sleeve. "Though Mei Chen and I lag far behind your capabilities, we’ll start with basic exercises. Instructor Han will help us advance quickly."
She swept her gaze across the assembled men. "The morning workout won’t take long. You can return to your regular duties or training afterward."
Xiulan nodded to the guard who spoke. "You’ll lead the count and direct our morning workout today."
"Yes, Miss Lin!" He saluted crisply and stepped to the side. "Everyone prepare!"
The guards spread out to the proper arm’s length, their movements precise and practiced. Xiulan took her position at the front beside Mei Chen, mimicking the stance of the lead guard.
Then things got intense, fast. The guards probably didn’t know Instructor Han had told them to keep it light at first.
Sweat trickled down Xiulan’s neck as she pushed through another set of exercises. The morning sun beat down mercilessly, and her muscles screamed in protest. Beside her, Mei Chen stumbled, catching herself before straightening with renewed determination. They persevered through the grueling routine until the final exercise ended.
The guards dispersed, leaving Xiulan and Mei Chen trudging toward the bathhouse. Their clothes clung to their skin, evidence of the morning’s exertion.
"Miss Xiulan?" Mei Chen dabbed at her forehead with a sleeve. "Why include the guards in our training? Wouldn’t it be easier to practice alone?"
A smile tugged at Xiulan’s lips. "Interaction breeds familiarity. That familiarity creates stronger bonds than abstract concepts like duty to the Lin family." She lowered her voice. "Perhaps even stronger than Madam Zhang’s bribes."
"Miss!" Mei Chen drew in a sharp breath. "Such dangerous talk... and please don’t speak that woman’s name. It sullies your tongue to even mention her."
Xiulan stopped walking and studied Mei Chen’s flushed face. The timid maid she’d known just days ago had grown bolder. Pride swelled in her chest. She grabbed Mei Chen’s arm playfully. "Let’s bathe together. I’ll wash your back."
"Miss!" Mei Chen yanked free and backpedaled, face blazing red. "That’s—that’s improper! I should be washing your back!" She spun and fled toward the bathhouse, nearly tripping over her own feet.
Xiulan followed with a happy trill escaping her throat. The bath was quick but pleasant.
Steam curled around her as she stepped out, wrapping herself in a soft cotton robe. Mei Chen appeared at the doorway, already dressed in fresh clothes with her damp hair neatly braided.
"Miss Xiulan, please let me attend to your hair properly." Mei Chen gestured to a low cushioned seat. "It’s been neglected these past days."
She smiled and nodded. "Thank you, Mei."
The wooden comb slid through Xiulan’s dark strands with practiced precision. Each stroke sent pleasant tingles across her scalp. Xiulan closed her eyes and savored the peaceful moment.
"Is that enough?" Xiulan asked a little while later, after Mei Chen showed no hint of stopping.
"Oh no, Miss! Only two hundred strokes so far—eight hundred remain." Mei Chen continued her methodical combing.
Xiulan released a dramatic puff of air. "A thousand?"
"Yes, Miss. That’s the proper number." Mei Chen paused. "Should I increase it?"
"No, no. Carry on." Xiulan closed her eyes, surrendering to the rhythmic strokes. The gentle tugging at her scalp melted away lingering tension from their morning workout. Perhaps I should ask for a back massage too...
Quick footsteps approached, and a servant bowed, extending a folded paper. "A message for you, Miss Lin."
Xiulan broke the seal and scanned the contents.
After Bo Qin departed, Xiulan and Mei Chen pored over the documents. Numbers filled countless columns—land transactions, revenue reports, and property assignments spanning years of meticulous record-keeping.
"Miss Xiulan, look at these figures." Mei Chen traced a finger down a column. "The income from his managed properties has decreased significantly."
Xiulan compared the earliest records to recent entries. The difference startled her—revenue had dropped to less than half its original amount. Each reduction came with neat explanations: poor harvests, maintenance costs, market fluctuations. Viewed individually, each note seemed reasonable. But combined with the woodsmen’s situation...
Bo Qin returned, arms laden with fresh scrolls. The weathered paper rustled as he spread them across the table. "These contain merchant records detailing sandalwood trade throughout the county."
Xiulan unrolled the nearest scroll, scanning the neat columns of transactions. One detail leaped from the page. "House Chao holds exclusive rights alongside us?" She tapped the merchant seal. "Madam Zhang’s family maintains the only other sandalwood operation in Blackmere?"
"Indeed." Bo Qin adjusted his cap. "While sandalwood represents a modest portion of our overall commerce, it generates substantial revenue." He pulled out a ledger and pointed to the bottom line. "The Lin family earns nearly a million taels annually from this venture alone."
A sharp intake of breath drew Xiulan’s attention. Mei Chen pressed both hands against her mouth, eyes wide with shock.
Xiulan expelled a long breath through her nose. "How did such significant dealings escape my father’s notice?"
"An excellent question." Bo Qin straightened his robes. "If you prefer not to address this matter yourself, I can find appropriate channels to bring these concerns to Lord Lin’s attention."
The implications twisted through Xiulan’s mind like thorny vines. "Please wait." She smoothed the scroll before her. "I need time to investigate thoroughly. There might be more evidence to uncover."
Bo Qin’s brow furrowed. "What exactly do you suspect?"
"These events might seem unrelated." Xiulan leaned forward. "But what if Zhang Huan’s actions form part of a larger scheme? A calculated effort to undermine House Lin?" She lowered her voice. "Consider the possibility that Madam Zhang orchestrated this to funnel funds from our family directly to House Chao."
Bo Qin straightened his robes and nodded. "I’ll continue investigating discreetly. Some of my clerks can be trusted to help compile additional records." He sat down and began to ink multiple letters.
Xiulan leaned closer to examine another scroll. Beside her, Mei Chen devoured document after document. The young maid’s natural talent for numbers startled her—she’d never have guessed her quiet servant possessed such skills.
Sunlight shifted across the floor as hours passed. Xiulan rubbed her temples, fighting off a headache from the endless columns and tables. "We need to take a break." She rolled her shoulders to ease the tension. "Official Bo, might I borrow some of these documents? I’d like to study them more thoroughly."
Bo Qin hesitated, fingers drumming against his desk. He stared at the bronze-colored scrolls for a few seconds. "These are official records..."
"I’ll ensure their safe return." Xiulan met his gaze steadily. "You have my word."
"Very well." Bo Qin relented with a quick bow. "Please handle them with utmost care."
He produced a lacquered box, and Mei Chen began arranging the scrolls with methodical precision. Each document nestled perfectly against the others, protected by layers of silk cloth.
After a promise to converse on the matter more the next day, Xiulan led the way toward the exit. As they walked through the corridors, Mei Chen glanced at the box in her arms. "What will you do with all this information, Miss?"
"If these records prove Madam Zhang’s involvement, we could finally—" Xiulan paused as a clerk hurried past.
"But Miss, shouldn’t we leave well enough alone? Your mother already won the last confrontation."
Xiulan pulled Mei Chen into an alcove. "This won’t end because of one victory. Mother’s challenge knocked them off balance, but they’ll strike back harder now."
"But everything’s been so peaceful these past two days." Mei Chen clutched the document box tighter.
"That’s exactly what worries me." Xiulan shook her head. "This quiet? It’s just the calm before the storm."
"I hope you’re wrong, Miss." Mei Chen whispered, eyes downcast.
Her guards rejoined them as soon as she was out of the building, and the trip back to her courtyard was uneventful.
When she rounded the corner into her courtyard, Xiulan paused at the sight of gathered servants. Lan Zhao stood at their head, straight-backed and dignified despite her age.
"Miss Xiulan." Lan Zhao bowed. "I’ve completed the staff selection. Half come from your mother’s trusted circle, and the rest proved their loyalty through years of dedicated service."
The assembled servants bowed in unison. Xiulan studied their faces—some familiar, others new, but all bore expressions of sincere dedication.
"Thank you all for choosing to serve in my household." Xiulan smiled warmly. "Your trust means everything." She turned to Lan Zhao. "Let’s celebrate with a proper tea ceremony in the main hall."
"An excellent suggestion, Miss." Lan Zhao gestured for the servants to follow.
Xiulan strode toward the main hall, her steps light with anticipation. The polished wood of the door felt cool beneath her fingers as she slid it open.
A dark shape dangled from the ceiling.
Screams erupted behind her. The putrid stench hit next—a nauseating mix of rotting meat and excrement that burned her nostrils. Xiulan pressed her sleeve against her face, squinting through watering eyes at the grotesque display.
Straw poked through crude stitching, packed with soil and dung. Strips of decomposing flesh hung from the creation like obscene decorations. The scarecrow twisted slowly on its rope, dripping foul liquid onto the polished floor.