Magistrate Lu didn't drag me to some piss-stained dungeon. No, he took me to his interrogation room—a place that was too clean, too orderly, and far too cold for a city as humid as Jinling. Lu Yanchi sat across from me, separated by a polished teak table that mirrored the flickering candlelight, staring at me as if I were a stray ink blot on his sacred legal documents.
Me? I gave him my best smile. The one I'd practiced ten thousand times in the brass mirrors of Peony Pavilion. The kind of smile that made men willing to spend gold as heavy as their own bodies just to bask in it for a second longer. It was a mask, a beautiful, gilded lie.
But behind that curve of my lips, my thoughts were meaner than my smile. How long has he been watching me? Who leaked my name? If he knew about the ledger, the ice queen wasn't just melting—she was going to be executed.
"Smiling won't erase your name from this file, Shen Yuening," Yanchi's voice cut through the silence. It was cold. Precise. It felt like a surgical blade hovering over a vein.
I leaned back slightly, letting my red silk robes rustle and slide—a calculated move to look relaxed, even though my back muscles were as stiff as a wooden plank. In my head, I was already judging him. Of course, he's this intense. Men who breathe laws for breakfast usually forget how to actually live.
"Tuan Magistrate, a smile is the only garment your officers can't confiscate. Besides, what's the point of frowning when I'm facing a man as... elegant as yourself?"
"Don't play games," Yanchi said, his fingers drumming a rhythmic, haunting beat on the table. "Peony Pavilion is currently under investigation for tax evasion and... illegal trafficking."
I let out a soft, airy laugh. "Trafficking? Tuan, I am a registered citizen of Jinling. I pay my taxes on time—probably more than some of the officials in this very building. Peony Pavilion isn't just a house of entertainment; we are a law-abiding business."
I kept my voice steady, locking every word into place like a deadbolt. If I didn't break, he didn't have a case. And if he forced one anyway… then Jinling's law was just another kind of cage. One I had no intention of rotting in.
Suddenly, the doors creaked open. Madam He walked in with a gait that was far too calm for a woman whose house had just been raided. But I knew that walk. It was the walk of a woman who had a dagger hidden in her garter and a plan for every drop of blood she might spill. She gave a performative bow, deep and respectful, but her eyes locked onto mine. It was a code. Don't lose. Don't give him a single scrap.
"Madam He," Yanchi said without looking at her. His gaze remained pinned to me, heavy and unblinking. "Your house is clean for now. But the stain on this girl's hands… soap won't wash that away."
Madam He didn't flinch, but the room grew colder. Yanchi stood up, walking slowly around the table. He stopped right beside me. He didn't smell like the market or cheap alcohol. He smelled of old parchment and expensive sandalwood.
He was the kind of man built to be trusted. Which was exactly why he was dangerous.
He leaned down, his lips only inches from my ear. I could feel the warmth of his breath against my neck—a jarring contrast to the icy demeanor he projected. "Tuan Magistrate," I whispered, tilting my head just enough to meet those dark eyes. "If you want to find the stains on my hands, you'll have to look much deeper. But be careful... sometimes what you find can destroy you, too."
Yanchi didn't flinch. Instead, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly vibration. "You're smart, Ning. And in my experience, that's exactly what makes you far more dangerous than a thousand criminals on the streets of Jinling."
He pulled back, but as he did, he reached into his sleeve and pulled out a small, crumpled piece of paper. He laid it flat on the teak table.
My lungs forgot how to work.
It was a fragment of a page—parchment aged with a specific scent of fermented plums. On it, in my own handwriting, was a single line of code and a name: Xiao Shi.
My throat tightened. That paper shouldn't exist. I had burned everything. Or at least, I thought I had. If Yanchi had this, then my "insurance" was already bleeding. This wasn't just about my pride or my pavilion anymore. Xiao Shi was the only one who saw the girl behind the mask, the only one who shared the burden of the secrets we stole.
Yanchi leaned back, his face a mask of absolute calm that chilled me to the bone. He saw the flicker of panic in my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to suppress it. He tapped the name 'Xiao Shi' on the paper, his finger landing right over the ink like a gavel.
"I wasn't just raiding for the Pavilion's wine, Ning. I was looking for the architect. And I think I just found her."
He looked at me, his eyes devoid of mercy, and whispered the final blow:
"Do you think she screams?"