The imperial court buzzed with its usual rhythm of ceremonies, petitions, and whispered ambitions. Yet Jeng Minh sensed a subtle disturbance—an invisible hand weaving influence where it should not have been. The chain pulsed insistently, a warning that the shadow of Lan Yue had reached the heart of his empire.
Bai Ye, reading the reports, frowned. "Several advisors and minor ministers have begun advocating policies that appear… inspired by her thinking. There is coordination, subtle but unmistakable. She's infiltrated the court itself."
Jeng Minh's eyes narrowed. "Then we do not confront her head-on. That would alert her. We must isolate, misdirect, and expose her influence without revealing our awareness. A shadow cannot strike if it believes the room is dark, but the lights are on."
He began his counterplay: reshuffling advisors subtly, planting false rumors about new provincial appointments, and commissioning public works that drew attention away from key officials under her sway. Every adjustment appeared natural and routine, but in reality, it was a careful orchestration to uncover loyalty and expose manipulation.
Then came her first bold move. During a council meeting, a minor minister—one her network had quietly persuaded—presented a strategy advocating an aggressive trade embargo against a neighboring state. The suggestion, if enacted, would destabilize regional alliances and create uncertainty in border provinces.
Jeng Minh suppressed a smile. "Perfect," he murmured. "She has revealed herself."
He responded by countering the proposal with a seemingly modest, alternative trade policy. Publicly, it appeared to be a compromise. Privately, it redirected the minister's attention and influence back into loyal hands, revealing the network of whispers Lan Yue had planted. Each subtle correction destabilized her web further without alerting her to the extent of her exposure.
Bai Ye whispered, awe and tension mixing. "She's good, Jeng Minh. She almost convinced us."
"Almost," Jeng Minh said, voice calm. "Influence is never absolute. Everyone has a threshold, and every network has cracks. Our task is to find them and exploit them without her noticing."
Over the next week, the court became a chessboard. Ministers, scholars, and advisors subtly swayed, reshaped, and maneuvered by invisible hands. Lan Yue's influence was powerful, but it was imperfect—relying on timing, perception, and human error.
Finally, the trap was set. Jeng Minh orchestrated a council session under the guise of ordinary governance. Every key figure she had influenced was positioned to act on her instructions, unaware that their actions were being guided into a controlled reveal. At the crucial moment, discrepancies, contradictions, and errors in her network became apparent. Allies hesitated, instructions conflicted, and whispers of doubt spread through her agents.
The shadow that had infiltrated the court faltered. And through it all, Jeng Minh remained unseen, guiding the empire's fate with the precision of a master strategist.
He looked to Bai Ye. "The shadow believes itself untouchable. Now it learns: even unseen influence can be manipulated. And every network has a weak point."
The duel of shadows had reached the capital itself. The unseen war was no longer at the edges of the empire—it was in the heart of power, and Jeng Minh knew that the next moves would determine not only the fate of the court, but the ultimate balance between him and Lan Yue.