The great hall was silent except for the rustle of maps under the Emperor's hand.
Morning light slanted across the marble floor, cold and gold, catching the faint steam from the brazier.
Duke Lian stood at attention, head bowed.
Across the table, Emperor Zhao Rui flipped through the ledger — the same mysterious book that had appeared in the Duke's study.
Every page glowed faintly with ink and treachery.
When he finally closed it, the sound was sharp, deliberate.
"This is no rumor," Zhao Rui said. His voice was calm, but the words carried a chill. "This ledger exposes theft—treason—from the Bureau of Trade. Grain meant for soldiers replaced by empty numbers."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And no one knows who brought it?"
The Duke hesitated. "None, Your Majesty. The guards saw no one. The doors were locked. The only clue—sandalwood scent."
The Emperor's fingers paused mid-tap on the table. He said nothing for a long time.
