A servant informs Zhao Ming that the Qiao Patriarch wishes to see him. Upon arriving, Zhao Ming is introduced to the Patriarch’s son, Qiao Xian, who has just returned from Luoyang.


    Qiao Xian warmly greets Zhao Ming, intrigued by the young scholar’s rising reputation. Over tea, he recounts his experiences in Luoyang, detailing visits to the Imperial Academy, where scholars recommended by the Qiao family have secured promising positions.


    However, the conversation soon turns serious as Qiao Xian lowers his voice. Rumors in the capital suggest that a powerful eunuch faction is growing, consolidating influence over key court affairs. Worse still, whispers circulate about the Emperor’s declining health, fueling concerns that turbulent times lie ahead. Zhao Ming listens carefully, recognizing that such changes could reshape the political landscape—and his own fate within it.


    At the Sun Manor, Sun Yichen hears troubling news—Xiao Lan was seen delivering a letter to Zhao Ming. Still nursing his wounded pride from the poetry competition, he clenches his fists in irritation.


    “That lowly scribe dares to capture her attention?” he mutters. His attendant, sensing his mood, remains silent.


    After a moment of contemplation, Sun Yichen turns to his most trusted servant. “Find out if Liu Wen is willing to… handle some matters for us.”


    Liu Wen, an opportunist within the bureaucracy, had a reputation for dirty work—leveraging his position for personal gain and crushing those who stood in his way. If he could be persuaded to make Zhao Ming’s life difficult, Sun Yichen’s revenge would be swift and ruthless.


    At the Jade Pavilion, Lian Rou and her troupe prepare for their departure to Luoyang. The air buzzes with last-minute preparations, and her heart feels heavy. As she stands in her chamber, gazing out the window, doubt creeps in—had her letter brought trouble to Zhao Ming? Would he resent her for it?


    Her maid, Xiao Lan, notices her hesitation. “Miss, if you’re worried about him, why not send another message?”


    Lian Rou shakes her head, forcing a small smile. “No. I’ve already acted on impulse once. If fate wills it, we shall meet again.”


    She takes one last look at the city she has called home for years before stepping out to bid farewell to the innkeeper and Madam Xu, the matron of the establishment. Both express their gratitude for her time at the Jade Pavilion—her presence had brought prestige and drawn influential patrons.


    Outside, a small crowd gathers as her carriage prepares to depart. Young noblemen and scholars linger, hoping for one last glimpse of her. Some murmur poetic farewells; others boldly call out, pleading for her to stay.


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    Ignoring the fanfare, Lian Rou steps into the carriage, drawing the silk curtain closed. As the wheels begin to turn, she exhales slowly, closing her eyes. She was leaving behind one chapter of her life, uncertain of what awaited her in the imperial capital.


    Back at the yamen, Zhao Ming senses a subtle change in his colleagues’ behavior. Some regard him with cautious glances, while others avoid his gaze altogether. One clerk, seemingly wanting to speak with him, hesitates before stepping back into the crowd as Liu Wen enters the room.


    Liu Wen remains outwardly neutral but assigns Zhao Ming a particularly daunting task: preparing supplies for an incoming army unit. The deadline? Three days.


    “The details should be obvious,” Liu Wen says with a smirk, offering no further guidance.


    Zhao Ming quickly realizes that this is a deliberate test—if he fails, the consequences could be severe.


    The old scribe watches the exchange and later murmurs a warning: “The higher you climb, the more hands will try to drag you down.”


    As Zhao Ming begins to review the necessary provisions, a few lower-ranked officials whisper among themselves. Chen Heng, a younger clerk, finally gathers the courage to speak.


    “You should be careful, Zhao Ming,” he says in a hushed tone. “Liu Wen doesn’t usually assign such tasks without an ulterior motive.”


    Zhao Ming nods, his mind already working through possible angles. Was this merely a bureaucratic hurdle, or was something more sinister at play?


    That evening, Zhao Ming is surprised when Yang Tianlei, the Yang family heir, visits the Qiao residence. Qiao Xian joins them, indicating that this is a matter of some importance.


    Yang Tianlei gets straight to the point. “Sun Yichen is making a move against you.”


    Zhao Ming remains composed but attentive. “What kind of move?”


    Yang Tianlei sighs. “For now, nothing drastic. But he’s using Liu Wen to stir up trouble for you at the yamen. Assigning you the military provisions task wasn’t a coincidence.”


    Zhao Ming’s mind sharpens. “So, this is part of a larger play?”


    Yang Tianlei nods. “The court has approved an auxiliary force, mostly composed of local peasants, hunters, and former soldiers. Around 800 to 1,000 men—most bringing their own weapons, which is unusual. They’ll need supplies, food, and lodging.”


    Zhao Ming’s eyes narrow. The assignment Liu Wen had given him suddenly took on new meaning.


    He carefully inquires about the army’s needs, prompting a deeper discussion between him, Yang Tianlei, and Qiao Xian.


    <ul>


    <li>


    Size: 800–1,000 men, a mix of backgrounds, but with an unusual number of self-equipped fighters.


    </li>


    <li>


    Food: Zhao Ming suggests seeking provisions from merchants linked to the Murong and Qiao families.


    </li>


    <li>


    Lodging: Yang Tianlei agrees to arrange for some troops to stay in military barracks, while others will take refuge in a nearby temple outside the city.


    </li>


    </ul>


    “There’s one more thing,” Yang Tianlei adds, lowering his voice. “Their leader is someone called Liu.”


    Zhao Ming stills. His first thought immediately drifts to the legendary Liu Bei, but he keeps his speculation to himself.


    The conversation stretches deep into the night as they meticulously plan, knowing that any misstep could have serious consequences.


    Finally returning to his quarters, Zhao Ming leans back in his chair, deep in thought. The day’s events had been a whirlwind—political shifts, hidden threats, and an unexpected military assignment.


    His fingers brush against the sealed letter from Lian Rou, still resting on his desk. With a sigh, he unfolds it once more.


    Perhaps Sun Yichen would cause him trouble because of it. But in a way, this letter had also gained him new allies.


    “If I see her again,” he murmurs, “I’ll have to thank her properly.”