The small, inlaid table in the corner of the room became the new battlefield. It was a beautiful thing, its surface a polished, dark wood marked with a complex grid of intersecting lines and star points—a Starfall Weiqi board of masterwork quality. The pieces, stored in two heavy, silk-lined bowls, were exquisite. One set was carved from pure, flawless crystal that seemed to drink the candlelight; the other was cut from obsidian so black it felt like holding a piece of the night sky.
Lin Ruoli sat down, her terror momentarily pushed aside by a surge of fierce, defiant pride. This was her domain. The world of merchants and politics was a game of Weiqi writ large, a battle of influence, territory, and slow, calculated strangulation. She had toppled rivals with fortunes ten times her own on boards just like this one.
