Chapter 123 - Chapter 123: Make Han Overreact

Wuchen climbed Han's platform with empty hands and trembling painted into his fingers, three grains held low and steady. Han's eyes were brighter today, the calm kind that meant he had already heard something before Wuchen arrived. He didn't ask for two certainties. He asked one question, mild and sharp. Did Lan's lung threaten my clerk last night, Han said. Wuchen bowed low. Yes, Deacon, he whispered. He said Lan does not pay taxes in ink. He pays them in blood. Han smiled faintly. Blood, he murmured. Good. At least Lan is honest about her currency. He leaned forward slightly. Certainty, he said. Give me one certainty that proves Lan intends to strike. Wuchen's stomach tightened. Gu Yan had prepared this. A certainty designed to make Han overreact, to expose his throat by pushing too hard. Wuchen bowed deeper, fingers trembling ugly, voice small. This one heard with certainty Lan will send Luo Ping to the registry tonight, Wuchen whispered. Not to steal paper. To take a person. Han's brush paused. Take a person, he repeated softly. His smile thinned into something pleased and cold. Good, he murmured. Then I will give her a person. He turned to his clerk without looking. Prepare the registry trap, Han said mildly. Two attendants in the back shelves. One recorder. And bring the apprentice clerk who smeared the tablet last night. We'll see if his fear can be used as bait. The clerk bowed hard. Yes, Deacon. Wuchen's stomach tightened. Han was setting a trap using the trembling clerk as bait. That was overreaction. That was exposure. Because traps required visible hands. Han looked at Wuchen, voice still polite. You will be at the registry tonight, he said. If Lan's lung comes, you witness. If he doesn't, you still witness. Witnesses make traps clean. Wuchen bowed low. Yes, Deacon. Han waved him away. Go leak somewhere else, he said. But the smile in his eyes didn't fade. He liked this. He liked having cause to set a trap. He liked being able to say later that he was only protecting order. Wuchen descended and went straight to Gu Yan. He reported cleanly: Han's question, Wuchen confirming Luo Ping's blood line, Han demanding a certainty of intent, Wuchen giving the planted certainty about Luo Ping coming to registry to take a person, and Han's immediate order to prepare a registry trap using the smeared-tablet apprentice as bait and placing attendants and a recorder. Gu Yan listened without smiling. When Wuchen finished, Gu Yan tapped the table once. Good, he murmured. Han is building a trap that needs witnesses. That means his throat is exposed. Wei's voice was flat. If Lan strikes, Han will detain a lung. If Lan doesn't, Han will punish the apprentice anyway to prove his trap was "necessary." Gu Yan nodded. Either way, blood, he said softly. He looked at Wuchen. Tonight you go to registry, he murmured. But you do not stand where Han wants you. You stand where you can see the back shelves and the side door. Watch for two things. Wuchen swallowed. What two? Gu Yan's eyes brightened faintly. First, whether Luo Ping comes alone or with a second shadow, he murmured. Second, whether patrol appears before Lan. If patrol appears first, Qian Luo is preempting her. If Lan appears first, she's confident enough to bite Han's trap. Wei added quietly. And if neither appears, Han is lying to himself and will bite someone weaker. Gu Yan nodded. Exactly. Wuchen bowed, three grains steady, trembling painted. Night fell. The registry hall looked ordinary from outside, but inside lanterns were brighter, shelves cleared, servants moved less. Han's attendants stood in places that looked like posts, but their eyes were too alive. The smeared-tablet apprentice clerk sat at a side desk with his hands folded, face pale, trying to look like he belonged. A recorder waited near the back, brush ready, as if recording could turn violence into procedure. Wuchen stood near a corridor pillar, not where Han pointed, but where he could see the back shelves and the side door. He kept his head lowered, fingers trembling ugly, breath stacked. The trap waited. Minutes passed. Then the side door creaked. A shadow slid in without announcing itself. Not Luo Ping. Smaller. A servant girl with a tea tray, eyes down, moving too carefully. She set the tray on a desk and left quickly, as if escaping. That was wrong. Tea wasn't needed in a trap. Tea was a signal. Wuchen's stomach tightened. Someone had just marked the room. Then the air changed again. A presence at the back shelves. Two men, stepping into lantern edge. Patrol. They wore ordinary inner robes, but the way they moved screamed training. They didn't enter loudly. They took positions near exits. Preempting. Qian Luo's style. Wuchen kept his gaze down and counted breaths. If patrol arrived before Lan, then Qian Luo was trying to control the collision. The door creaked again. This time, a heavier presence approached. A familiar stillness. Luo Ping stepped into the registry hall, scar bright, eyes flat. Alone. No second shadow visible. He stopped just inside, gaze sweeping the room, noticing attendants, recorder, the pale apprentice, and the patrol men who pretended not to be patrol. His jaw tightened a fraction. Han's trap had been revealed by too many watching eyes. Luo Ping didn't retreat. He stepped forward calmly, as if walking into teeth was his job. The apprentice clerk's hands began to shake. The recorder's brush hovered. Patrol's eyes narrowed. And somewhere in the deeper corridor beyond, Wuchen heard the soft clink of a teacup being set down. Han was arriving to watch his trap close.