Lena Sanders stepped out of the private room but did not descend the stairs. Instead, she turned toward that mysterious chamber whose door, once closed, seemed to erase its very existence—the same place from which Ye Ansheng had emerged earlier.
Just as she reached the spot, the door opened from within. Shopkeeper Bai inclined slightly and gestured for Lena Sanders to enter, lifting a hand to bar Harris Ma and Jack Golden.
"Please, gentlemen, enjoy some tea downstairs."
Harris Ma glanced at Lena Sanders, while Jack Golden fixed his gaze on Shopkeeper Bai.
"Wait for me downstairs," Lena Sanders instructed.
At her word, the two men stepped back and went down.
Shopkeeper Bai closed the door softly and watched Lena Sanders, who stood with her hands clasped behind her back, inspecting the room as though she were taking stock of it. After a pause, he smiled faintly.
"Miss Li, your skills are truly impressive."
"I have a target—an assassin. I wish to kill him. How would that be priced?" Lena Sanders asked with a serene smile.
"With your abilities, Miss Li, why trouble yourself over such matters?" Shopkeeper Bai replied with a dry chuckle.
"There's no such thing as a flawless plan," Lena said evenly. "If one can prevent danger before it arises, why take unnecessary risks?"
"Those who live by the blade are mostly broken souls—lonely, estranged from the world. If even they must fear ambush from those who hire them, that would be too cruel. Such deeds defy the natural order. We do not take contracts to kill assassins," Bai stated plainly.
"I see." Lena's smile deepened. "Then tell me—what must I do to become one of your assassins?"
Shopkeeper Bai froze for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. "Ah, so that's what Miss Li means... you jest, surely."
"I've made many mistakes in my life, but overthinking has never been one of them," Lena sighed, bowing slightly. "Please, enlighten me, Shopkeeper Bai—how does one earn a place among your killers?"
"First," Bai began carefully, "Miss Li has three sworn brothers—you are not without attachments. Second, your relationship with His Highness the Prince Heir is... not insignificant. Both are forbidden."
He bowed politely. "I must ask Miss Li's forgiveness."
"So many rules for such a trade," Lena said after a moment's silence, smiling faintly.
"The darker the path, the more discipline it requires," Bai replied. "Without restraint, the chaos would consume all."
He went on, clearly understanding her curiosity.
"For example—no harm to children under seven, no accepting reasonless contracts, no torture, no desecration of corpses, no implicating the innocent, and no actions in broad daylight. Dozens of such rules—we live by them strictly."
"What does 'no reasonless contracts' mean?" Lena asked intently.
"There must be grievance—hatred or revenge," Bai answered. After a pause, he continued, "Miss Li's current matter may be tangled in cause and consequence, yet it remains true—you once belonged to another household and fled after injuring your master. That much is certain."
"You've seen the deed of servitude, then?" Lena's brow lifted slightly.
"I have."
"And the name written there—was it Zhanlu?" she asked with a hint of amusement.
"It was 'Sang, daughter of the Sang family.'"
"Ah." Lena sighed softly. "That was my sister. She's already dead—killed by the very man who came to you, Ye Siyé.
It was his terror upon seeing me alive that led him to your door.
Thanks to that terror, I now know how my sister died.
You, Shopkeeper Bai, could not have known—and the ignorant deserve no blame."
She inclined her head slightly.
Shopkeeper Bai was taken aback.
"Such cases are exceedingly rare," he murmured. "And you and your sister..." His gaze flicked toward the arm concealing her narrow sword. "I truly hadn't imagined... Please forgive me."
After a brief hesitation, he frowned slightly. "Miss Li, you and your sister—were you ever of the same household?"
"No. We were separated in childhood," Lena replied with a gentle smile. "But since you say it's rare, I suppose you've seen others like us—siblings who share one face.
My sister and I, though raised apart, walked the same path. The difference is—she was enslaved. I was not."
"I have indeed met one or two such pairs," Bai said, clearly moved. He bowed deeply. "Such sisters are almost unheard of. The mistake was mine entirely. Miss Li, you are magnanimous. Rest assured—henceforth, we shall treat you as a friend. And as for the contract upon your head—I shall never again accept it."
"My thanks, Shopkeeper Bai." Lena smiled and returned his bow before taking her leave.
At dusk, Darren Chang simmered a great pot of radish, cabbage, and salted pork hock. He carried a charcoal brazier into the courtyard, set an iron griddle over it, brushed it with oil, and laid thick slices of salted mutton leg to sizzle upon it.
The meat had just begun to hiss and crackle when Ruby's voice came from outside the gate:
"Is Lord Li at home?"
Before Lena could answer, Harris Ma leapt up and bolted outside—then dashed back in, panting.
"Boss! Boss! It's the Prince Heir! The Prince Heir himself!"
Lena's eyes flashed; Harris Ma shrank his neck.
"He, uh... he said the Prince Heir invites you... to dinner, I think."
Lena looked down at the piece of lamb she had just flipped—golden and crisp on both sides—sighed, set her chopsticks aside, and rose.
"Bos—" Harris Ma began, pointing at her unisex fur-lined coat, but dared not finish the word. He'd shouted too loudly earlier; the boss seemed annoyed.
"Sit and eat," Jack Golden said, laughing as he kicked him lightly. "With how hopeless you act, the boss wouldn't bring you along anyway—too embarrassing."
"Rubbish! I come from a fine family—I've got plenty of promise!
That's the Prince Heir! To dine with him once or twice—hell, that'd be worth engraving on my tombstone! You wouldn't understand!" Harris Ma plopped down beside Jack, grabbed three or four slices of meat, blew on them, and took a huge bite.
"When we first came here," Jack said, clapping him on the shoulder, "we ate from the same pot as the Prince Heir for over a month—and even shared a bed once or twice. Enough for a whole tombstone, wouldn't you say?"
"That was when His Highness was down on his luck! Doesn't count!" Harris Ma retorted through a mouthful of meat. "You don't read, you've got no sense—you wouldn't get it!" He reached for more lamb.
"Wonder if His Highness will send her back tonight," Darren Chang muttered as he sliced more meat.
"Didn't the boss say there's no more trouble for now?" Jack paused, frowning.
"Maybe we should follow along—just to be safe?" Harris Ma suggested, swallowing hard.
"No need. And that's not what I meant," Darren said, setting another heap of sliced lamb on the griddle.
"Then what did you mean?" both men asked together.
"Nothing," Darren murmured, his voice low and unreadable.