The sky had only just begun to pale when Li Wei stepped into the bitter morning air. Frost clung to the half-finished beams and the muddy ground, crunching softly beneath his feet as he approached the northern scaffold. The sentries were still sleepy; most fires had burned down to embers. It was the perfect hour for secrets.
He arrived early—intentionally.
If she planned to test him, he would test her as well.
He positioned himself near the base of the scaffold, half-hidden by stacked timber, observing from the shadows. The cold was sharp enough to numb fingers, but he remained still. Minutes stretched. Workers began drifting out of their tents. The garrison woke in slow, grudging movements.
Then he heard it: a soft footstep, lighter than the crunch of frost, deliberate, precise.
She emerged from behind one of the larger support beams, dressed in the same rough worker's clothes, yet moving with the fluid confidence of someone trained—someone who did not bend to the world but stepped through it.
"You came early," she said softly.
"And you arrived quietly," he replied.
Her eyes glimmered with approval. "Good. You're learning."
"I came for answers."
"And I came to give them."
She gestured toward the scaffold. "Walk with me. To anyone watching, you'll look like you're checking structural support."
He followed her up the wooden planks, the two of them moving with the rhythm of workers inspecting beams. When they reached a secluded platform, the woman exhaled—and the mask shifted.
Her casual worker's posture straightened. Her tone sharpened.
"What I'm about to tell you," she said, "does not leave this scaffold."
He nodded once.
She began. "My name is Mei Lin. Officially, I'm a labor supervisor transferred from the southern prefectures."
"And unofficially?"
She leaned on a beam, eyes narrowing. "Unofficially? I'm a courier for General Meng Tian, commander of all northern defenses."
Li Wei stiffened.
Meng Tian—one of Qin's greatest generals. A man who commanded legions, who led thousands against the Xiongnu, who had the First Emperor's ear.
"If you serve him," Li Wei said carefully, "then why disguise yourself here?"
"To identify talent. To observe cracks in the garrison system. To find men who can turn chaos into structure."
"And you think I'm one of them?"
"I know you are."
She stepped closer, lowering her voice.
"You stabilized a collapsed ramp with no authority. You directed laborers efficiently. You navigate danger quietly. The inspectors wanted to claim you—someone whispered your name. And Meng Tian's network hears whispers."
Li Wei's jaw tightened. "Whispers can kill."
"Or elevate," she countered.
They fell into silence, the cold wind tugging at their clothes.
She continued, "The frontier is bleeding. Scouting parties vanish. Camps burn. Commanders fall. We need people who can build—not just walls, but order. Systems. Structure. People with the mind of a strategist but the patience of a laborer."
She held his gaze.
"You have that. And that makes you dangerous."
He studied her, weighing her words, the tension in her shoulders, the faint fatigue in her eyes. She was not lying. She was not careless. And she was not here by chance.
"What do you want from me?" he asked finally.
"Nothing yet," Mei Lin said. "Just survival."
"Survival?" he echoed.
"Yes. Because if you survive here long enough, I'll have something greater to offer you."
Before he could respond, a horn blared from the center of the garrison—sharp, urgent, not part of the usual morning routine.
Mei Lin froze, then muttered, "Too early…"
"What is it?" Li Wei asked.
She grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the scaffold. "Trouble. Real trouble."
Workers were pouring out of their tents. Soldiers gathered near the northern gate. A scout rode in fast, dust trailing behind him despite the frost.
Li Wei heard the shouted words before he reached the gate:
"A scouting unit is missing!
No bodies. No survivors. No signal fires.
They vanished!"
Mei Lin's jaw clenched. "The frontier stirs again."
"And what does this mean for us?" Li Wei asked.
"It means," she said grimly, "you're about to be tested far sooner than I expected."
He inhaled sharply, the cold burning in his chest.
A missing scouting unit wasn't just a tragedy.
It was a sign.
Of enemy movement.
Of escalating conflict.
Of the north turning violent.
And people like him—the useful ones—would be dragged into the center of it.
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Teaser:
The disappearance is only the beginning—something deadly approaches the garrison under the cover of dawn.
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