They returned to the Emperor's study as silently as they had left, two shadows melting back into the heart of the palace. The secret test in the abandoned courtyard was complete. The air in the room was now charged with a new and potent energy—not just the tension of conspiracy, but the thrill of imminent action.
Meng Tian stood before his Emperor, his body still thrumming with the power he now understood. He was no longer just a guard; he was a weapon awaiting its first command. Ying Zheng, his mind racing with the strategic possibilities that had just opened up to him, moved to a large table. Unrolled upon it was not a classical text or a calligraphy scroll, but a detailed map of the Forbidden City's northern sector. It was another product of Liang Wen's growing network, hand-drawn and delivered with notes on guard rotations and known areas of activity.
Ying Zheng's strategy, which had until now been one of patience, subtle influence, and information warfare, was about to undergo a radical shift. With Meng Tian at his side, he could now move from the realm of intrigue to the world of direct, covert action.
"Cixi's power," Ying Zheng began, his voice a low, clinical whisper as he pointed to the map, "rests on two main pillars. First, her control of the court's finances, which allows her to purchase loyalty and indulge her vanity. Second, her network of spies, run by the eunuch Li Lianying, which allows her to enforce that loyalty through fear and blackmail." He tapped the map with a small finger. "We have struck a glancing blow at the finances with the pearl shawl incident. Now, we must blind her."
His finger came to rest on a small, unassuming compound located in a quiet, walled-off area. A small note on the map identified it as the Can Shi Fang, the "Silkworm Nursery."
"Officially," Ying Zheng explained, "this is where the silkworms used for the Empress Dowager's personal silk garments are bred and tended to. It is a quiet, peaceful place." He looked up at Meng Tian, his eyes glinting in the lamplight. "According to my intelligence, this is a façade. It is actually the secret headquarters for Li Lianying's inner circle of spies, the 'Poisoned Thorns,' as they call themselves. It is where they meet, where they store their reports on every official in this city, and where they keep their most valuable asset: the ledgers containing their lists of informants and their blackmail material."
Ying Zheng straightened up. "Prince Gong and my other pawns are public figures. An attack on this place must be untraceable. It must be the work of a ghost. Your work, General."
He looked directly at Meng Tian, his childish features a stark contrast to the ancient, ruthless command in his eyes. He was giving his general his first mission in two thousand years.
"You will infiltrate the Silkworm Nursery this very night. You will use the skills we have just confirmed you possess. But your mission is not one of simple destruction. It must be precise."
He laid out the operational parameters with the clarity of a seasoned commander briefing his top operative.
"First, you are not to kill anyone. A dead guard, even a eunuch spy, would trigger a massive, overt investigation. The guards are to be incapacitated, silently and efficiently. A blow to the head, a choked nerve point. They must awaken with bruised heads and no clear memory of their attacker. They must seem incompetent, not overwhelmed."
"Second," he continued, his voice dropping even lower, "you are to steal one specific item. My agent informs me they keep a master ledger bound in green silk. This ledger contains the network's financial records—who gets paid, how much, and for what information. It is the key to her entire web of spies. With it, we can identify her agents. We can turn them. We can destroy her network from within. You will retrieve that ledger and that ledger only."
"And third," Ying Zheng concluded, "you will cover your tracks with fire. But not your fire, and not mine. A fire that seems like an accident." He pointed to a small packet on the table, prepared by Shen Ke and delivered via the inkstone channel. "This contains phosphorus. When exposed to the air, it will ignite. You will place it amongst the other scrolls and ledgers before you leave. The ensuing fire will destroy the rest of the records, hiding the theft of the green ledger among the ashes. It will look like a tragic accident, perhaps a poorly tended lamp. It will make Li Lianying's spies look like careless fools."
He had given the order. The plan was a perfect synthesis of their combined abilities: his strategic planning and intelligence gathering, and Meng Tian's superhuman capacity for infiltration and stealth.
Meng Tian's eyes burned with a renewed, fierce purpose. For years, he had been a weapon without a master, a blade without a hand to guide it. Now, he had his orders. He had a target. He had a mission given to him by the only man in existence he was born to obey.
He dropped to one knee, the gesture as natural to him as breathing. "This servant lives to obey, Your Majesty," he said, his voice a low, powerful rumble. "Cixi's nest of spiders will burn."
A few minutes later, a dark figure, cloaked in black from head to toe, slipped from a side entrance of the Emperor's residence. He moved through the moon-drenched courtyards of the Forbidden City not like a man, but like a patch of flowing shadow, his superhuman senses guiding him through the dark, his footsteps making no sound on the ancient stones.
Ying Zheng stood at his window, watching the shadow disappear. He was no longer just a player in a complex game of chess. With the return of his general, he had just unsheathed his blade and placed its point directly at the throat of his enemy. The Second Reign was about to enter a new, more dangerous, and far more direct phase. The time for whispers was ending. The time for action had begun.