Jing Kingdom.
Jin City.
Dawn painted the sky in shades of blood and gold.
The 'Red Sleeves' brothel stood silent in the early morning light, its usual nocturnal symphony of pleasure replaced by the soft snoring of exhausted patrons and workers alike.
Nalan Yaran stood at the entrance of a modest teahouse across the street, her cold eyes fixed on the brothel's crimson doors.
She was perhaps eighteen, with features sharp enough to cut glass and hair black as a moonless night, tied back in a practical braid. Unlike the painted ladies of Red Sleeves, she wore simple dark robes that allowed for movement—the kind a martial artist would favor.
"Miss Nalan, are you certain about this?" The elderly man beside her wrung his hands nervously. "The Twin Eagle Gang controls this entire district. If they discover—"
"They owe my family three thousand silver taels," Nalan Yaran interrupted, her voice flat. "They've had six months. I've given them enough face."
The old man—Uncle Feng, her family's last remaining servant—lowered his head. "But your father just passed away. The funeral costs alone—"
"Are precisely why I need that money."
She stepped forward, and Uncle Feng noticed how her hand instinctively moved toward the short blade concealed beneath her robes. Two years ago, she had been the pampered daughter of a merchant family. Now, after her father's business was destroyed by the Twin Eagle Gang's extortion, after her mother died of illness, after everything was taken—she was something else entirely.
The 'Forging Jade Art' she had secretly learned from a dying wanderer had transformed her body over the past year. Where once there was softness, now there was steel.
"Wait here," she commanded.
"Miss—"
But she was already walking toward the brothel.
---
The interior of Red Sleeves smelled of incense, sweat, and stale wine. A few servants were cleaning the main hall, and a plump madam dozed behind the reception counter.
Nalan Yaran's entrance drew immediate attention. A young woman in a brothel was hardly unusual, but one dressed like a fighter, walking with the confidence of a predator—that was different.
The madam's eyes snapped open. "We're closed, girl. Come back tonight if you're looking for work."
"I'm looking for Scarface Liu."
The name hung in the air like a threat. Scarface Liu was the Twin Eagle Gang's tax collector for this district—and the man who had personally broken her father's legs when he couldn't pay their "protection fees."
The madam's face paled. "He's... he's in the back room. But you can't just—"
Nalan Yaran was already walking past her.
---
The back room stank of opium and cheap perfume. Scarface Liu lay sprawled across a bed, two working girls curled against him, all three unconscious from the previous night's indulgences.
Nalan Yaran studied him for a moment. The scar that gave him his name ran from his left eyebrow to his chin—a memento from some forgotten street fight. In sleep, he looked almost peaceful.
She kicked the bed frame.
"What the—" Scarface Liu bolted upright, his hand reaching for the knife under his pillow. But before his fingers could close around it, Nalan Yaran's blade was already at his throat.
"Three thousand silver taels," she said calmly. "You took it from the Nalan merchant house. I'm here to collect."
The two girls screamed and fled. Scarface Liu's eyes darted around the room, recognition slowly dawning.
"You're... you're that merchant's daughter?" He laughed, though his throat bobbed nervously against the blade. "Little girl, do you know who I am? The Twin Eagle Gang will—"
She pressed the blade harder, drawing a thin line of blood.
"I know exactly who you are. You're the man who destroyed my father's shop. You're the man who broke his legs. You're the man who drove my mother to an early grave." Her voice remained steady, almost conversational. "And now you're going to tell me where the money is, or I'm going to start cutting pieces off."
For the first time, fear flickered in Scarface Liu's eyes.
---
Ten minutes later, Nalan Yaran emerged from the back room, a heavy pouch of silver in her hand. Not the full three thousand—but enough.
The brothel had come alive during her visit. Several rough-looking men blocked her path to the exit, their hands on various weapons. The madam stood behind them, her earlier fear replaced by smug satisfaction.
"Did you really think you could rob the Twin Eagle Gang and walk away?" she sneered. "Boys, teach this little girl a lesson."
Nalan Yaran sighed.
The 'Forging Jade Art' hummed through her veins as she channeled her internal energy. Her master—if a dying man who taught her for three days could be called that—had said she had rare talent. That with proper training, she could reach heights he never had.
She supposed this would be good practice.
The first thug lunged at her with a wooden club. She sidestepped, caught his wrist, and used his momentum to send him crashing into two of his companions. Before they could untangle themselves, she was already moving—a spinning kick to one man's temple, an elbow to another's solar plexus, a palm strike that shattered a third's nose.
In eight seconds, five men lay groaning on the floor.
Nalan Yaran straightened her robes and walked toward the door, stepping over the bodies without a backward glance.
---
She was halfway down the street when a commotion erupted behind her.
"Stop! Thief! She attacked the City Lord's guests!"
Nalan Yaran didn't run. Running implied guilt. Instead, she quickened her pace, ducking into a narrow alley she had memorized during her surveillance.
But as she rounded a corner, she stopped short.
A young man stood in her path—perhaps twenty, with an easy smile and sharp eyes that seemed to see everything. He leaned against the alley wall as if he had been waiting for her specifically.
"Impressive," he said casually. "I was watching from the teahouse. Five men in eight seconds. The Forging Jade Art, if I'm not mistaken?"
Nalan Yaran's hand moved to her blade. "Who are you?"
"Someone who appreciates talent." He pushed off from the wall and gave a slight bow. "Qing Chen. I have a... business proposition for you."
Behind her, she could hear the pursuit getting closer.
"I don't have time for this."
"Then I'll be brief." His smile widened. "I need someone killed. Someone the Twin Eagle Gang would love to see dead. Help me, and I'll help you destroy them completely."
Nalan Yaran studied him for a long moment. There was something dangerous in those eyes—something that reminded her of herself.
"I'm listening."
---
[End of Chapter 1]