The imperial road wound through the mountains, narrow and covered in a fog so thick it seemed made of whispers.
Suwei's entourage advanced in silence.
The horses' hooves were barely audible on the damp mud.
Trees rose like silent sentinels, and the sky remained gray, almost sacred.
Suwei, inside the carriage, held in his hands the box Mistress Wuyin had given him.
He felt something pulsing within it... as if it knew they were approaching the heart of the Empire.
A sudden wind swept away the fog.
And then, it happened.
"Ambush!" shouted one of the escorts.
Arrows whistled through the trees. Two horses fell.
The carriage stopped abruptly and tipped onto its side. Suwei rolled across the ground, his robe stained with mud and blood.
The attackers were not common bandits.
They wore dark masks and symbols of an unknown house.
One of them approached with a spear, pointing directly at Suwei's chest.
And then... the silence broke.
A figure emerged from the fog like a living shadow.
Quick movements, precise, lethal.
In a matter of seconds, three attackers were on the ground. The fourth fled, wounded.
Suwei, still on the ground, looked up.
Before him stood a tall silhouette, covered by a dark cloak and a silver mask.
The stranger looked at him... or at least that's what Suwei thought he felt.
Because in that moment, a surge of heat passed through his chest.
The same fire he had felt at the lake... now burning stronger.
"Who... are you?" he managed to say, barely.
The man did not respond. He only bent down, picked up the wooden box Suwei had dropped, and handed it back with a silent bow.
Then, he turned on his heel... and vanished into the fog, as if he had never been there.
Later, when the entourage regained control, no one could explain what had happened.
"You say it was just one man..." asked one of the escorts, astonished. "And he defeated them all?"
Suwei did not respond.
He only opened the box, curious for the first time in days.
But the interior remained empty... except for a faint glow that now moved in a spiral at the bottom.
A tiny flame. Alive.
And the crane on his hairpin... trembled slightly.
That night, camped at the top of Zhu Lin Pass, Suwei looked up at the stars.
He didn't know who that warrior was.
But something in his soul had already recognized him.
"We will meet again," he whispered.
And the fire, once again, seemed to answer him.