The ride to General Wei's sprawling, fortified mansion was silent and tense. Prime Minister Xiao sat opposite Qingxue in the carriage, his face pale and drawn. He was trying to project appropriate mourning, but a sheen of sweat on his forehead betrayed a deep, personal terror.
"He's not mourning his friend, Baozi, he's terrified of the killer," Qingxue thought, watching Xiao's eyes dart nervously toward the sealed carriage door. "He knows this death isn't random. He probably knew the coup was coming, but he didn't expect General Wei to be the first casualty."
"[Host, his fear is a good sign. It means he believes the threat is external to him, and he's now a potential target. Use his fear to control him,]" the system advised internally.
When the carriage halted outside the massive iron gates of the Wei residence, the sounds of wailing immediately hit them—a high, piercing sound of professional grief mixed with genuine agony.
