By midday, Tian's Watch tasted the first soft bite of the storm.
Three riders came up the old ridge path — horses lean and well-shod, hooves wrapped to hush their approach. The lead wore a trader's coat stitched in silk too fine for a mountain road. The other two flanked him, shoulders draped in crow-feather black.
Li Shen watched from the gate — two leaning posts draped in thorn vines and prayers that fluttered like dry leaves in the wind. Yue Lan stood at his shoulder, her spirit threads brushing his wrist in restless arcs.
---
The trader reined in, boots crunching frost. He raised a gloved hand — palm up, empty, soft.
"No blood," he called. His voice was smooth, almost gentle. A snake speaking with a priest's tongue. "Only words."
Li Shen tilted his head. His blade stayed loose at his side.
"Then stand there," he said, "and drown me with them."
---
The trader dismounted. The crows did not. They sat their horses like carved shadows, eyes hidden under straw hats that hid no teeth, no grin.
The trader stepped forward, just beyond the posts. He did not cross them. Not yet.
"Chain-breaker," he said, bowing low. "You stain these hills with old rumor. My master would rather stain them with new gold."
Yue Lan's laugh cut the chill like a sparrow's wing through snow.
"Gold for what?" she asked. Her threads flicked, brushing the trader's boot. He flinched.
"For his name," the trader said, eyes flicking to Li Shen's throat, then his blade. "A soft ending. An easy forgetting. No blood. No frost. No gates to burn."
Li Shen's grin cracked the cold.
"Show it."
---
The trader gestured — one crow dismounted, stepping forward with a lacquered chest no bigger than a child's cradle. He set it on the frost, flipped the latch with trembling fingers. Inside: rolls of silk, strings of coins stamped with the Nine Heavens' oldest crest, thin bars of silver so fresh they still stank of forge-smoke.
Li Shen didn't move. Didn't blink.
"Take it," the trader said, voice low, coaxing. "Step aside. Let the river drown the rumor of you. Let the sky forget your teeth."
Yue Lan's spirit threads drifted over the silver — a single flicker of frost smoke. Her eyes found Li Shen's. He didn't need to nod.
---
He stepped forward. The trader's smile widened — a snake uncoiling to strike.
Li Shen knelt by the chest. Lifted one bar of silver. Turned it over in his palm.
He rose.
Then he dropped the bar into the dirt, slow enough to watch the trader's smile tremble.
"You came with silk," Li Shen said. His voice was calm — softer than snow falling on old charcoal. "You should have come with steel."
He lifted the chest with both hands. Yue Lan's threads snapped out, winding through the coins, the silk, the sweet bribe that tasted of poison and crowns.
Then he flung it over the posts — into the thorn vines draped with old prayer scraps.
Yue Lan's threads flickered — a spark caught where thorn bit silk.
Flame bloomed — bright, hungry, climbing old prayers like dry rope. The coins clattered in the dirt, swallowed by the crackle of fire that didn't care for crowns or crests.
---
The trader stumbled back, eyes wide, the two crows shifting on their horses — not moving to draw, not daring to bow.
Li Shen stood in front of the burning chest, blade loose in his hand.
"Carry my name back," he said, voice like frost under dawn. "Tell your master it costs more than silver."
The trader turned — fled to his horse, boots slipping in the frost.
---
Behind Li Shen, the thorn-wrapped gate burned clean and bright. Rumor turned to ash that drifted on the wind, carrying no leash.
Master Tian watched from the doorway, his crooked staff tapping the step like a heartbeat.
"A spark," he rasped, eyes glinting in the flame's dance. "Good. Now watch for crows that come with teeth."
Li Shen grinned. Yue Lan's threads wrapped his wrist, warm as breath against steel.
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⚡ End of Chapter Thirteen — The First Flame
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