Han Yu had taken to a quiet routine again, much like before.
The sun filtered gently through the plum tree in his courtyard, dappling the stone floor with scattered shadows as Han Yu brewed a fresh pot of tea. There was nothing dramatic in the air, no sudden tremors, no ominous jade slips glowing ominously, and no rats parachuting from rooftops.
For once, things were… calm.
And that meant something was bound to happen.
Still, Han Yu wasn't complaining. He needed the rest. Between Meng Jueyan's letter, the delivery of rare materials, and the quiet digestion of multiple terrifying pill concoctions, his body and soul needed every bit of peace it could soak in.
But peace didn't last.
Three days into this relative tranquility, just as Han Yu was sorting through a pile of roasted peanuts and debating which type might work best as diplomatic gifts to his rat network, a knock came from his courtyard gate.
