The new passage swallowed the team in a suffocating hush. The pale flames lining the walls did not flicker—they stood perfectly still, as though even fire feared to breathe in this place. The freed prisoners huddled together, supported by Peng and Yao, while Zhang stayed at Li Wei's flank. Yan Xiu walked at the front, posture tense, daggers ready.
Li Wei felt it in his bones.
The next chamber would not test strength. Or morality. It would test allegiance.
The tunnel bent sharply, descending into a narrow throat of rock. Strange markings lined the walls—symbols of circles broken, loops intersected, lines that led nowhere. Instructions. Warnings. Threats.
Yan Xiu paused at one section and whispered, "These markings… they're from the old Shadow Corps."
Li Wei frowned. "Shadow Corps?"
"An elite group of Qin infiltrators—even before the Hunter-General defected." She ran a finger over one jagged line. "This symbol means: 'Truth is shaped by the knife.'"
Zhang muttered, "Sounds like your kind of proverb."
Yan Xiu shot him a deadly glance. "Sounds like his training."
Li Wei felt a stone drop into his stomach.
The Hunter-General was playing with more than traps and maps now.
He was playing with loyalties.
The tunnel widened until they reached an archway sealed by a heavy cloth embroidered with a symbol Li Wei recognized instantly—the same carved on the bronze shard Mei Lin had given him.
Yan Xiu grabbed his wrist sharply.
"Whatever is behind this," she whispered, "you are not ready."
Zhang stepped beside her. "None of us are."
Li Wei pushed the curtain aside.
And froze.
The Chamber of the Silent Betrayer
The chamber beyond was small—far smaller than the previous ones. No traps. No guardians. No bodies. No torches.
Just one stone table.
And on it—papers, scrolls, tokens, and stamps. Qin military seals. Patrol schedules. Messenger codes. Supply route numbers.
Zhang swore violently. "How… how does he have these?!"
Peng stumbled backward. "That's impossible! Only commanders can access—"
Li Wei stepped forward slowly.
Each scroll bore a familiar mark—burnished red ink used only in internal communications.
Yan Xiu's jaw locked. "These are official dispatches."
Yao lifted one with trembling hands. "This is yesterday's supply order. The one Commander Feng approved before dawn…"
Zhang pointed to another. "And this—this is the weekly patrol shift distribution."
Peng found a smaller scroll and opened it—only to drop it with a gasp.
"It's… it's from the garrison medic!"
Yan Xiu growled, "This chamber is a stolen archive."
Li Wei shook his head. "No. Not stolen."
He reached for the top scroll—ink still fresh.
"Delivered."
Silence fell like a killing blow.
Yao whispered, voice cracking, "Someone inside the garrison is sending him our documents."
Zhang clenched his fists. "A traitor. Inside the walls."
Peng's voice quivered. "But who? A scout? A soldier? A medic? A—"
Li Wei silenced him with a raised hand.
He sifted through the scrolls carefully.
Not random.
Not scattered.
They were organized—meticulously:
Patrol shifts
Supply shortages
Worker rosters
Garrison weaknesses
Health records
Surveillance notes
Individual soldier evaluations
Li Wei's breath hitched.
Among them was a note he recognized.
His own worker assignment slip.
Signed by Commander Feng.
His heart twisted.
Was Feng involved? No.
But someone with access to Feng's desk was… or someone forging the signature had skills far beyond a common soldier.
Yan Xiu grabbed another scroll. "Look. This ink—this handwriting—this isn't one person. There are at least two different informants."
Peng nearly fainted. "Two traitors?!"
Zhang slammed his spear butt into the floor. "Show me their names! Show me who betrayed us!"
But Li Wei shook his head slowly. "They wouldn't write their names. But they would reveal their patterns."
Yao said, "Patterns?"
Li Wei pointed to the scrolls:
"The one who sent internal patrol schedules…
…works near the command tent."
Yan Xiu added, "Someone who handles official paperwork."
Zhang snarled. "A clerk."
Li Wei shook his head again. "No. Look closer. The signature is wrong."
Yan Xiu's eyes widened. "Forged."
Li Wei turned to the far-right stack.
"These supply lists…"
"…they include mistakes the quartermaster constantly makes."
Peng stammered, "You mean… he's the trait—"
Li Wei cut him off sharply. "No. The mistakes are copied—meaning someone shadows him. Watches him. Mimics him."
The prisoners watched silently, fear etched into their hollow faces.
Then Yan Xiu froze.
"There's another pile," she whispered.
Against the far wall.
Li Wei's eyes followed her finger—and his blood went cold.
These scrolls were different.
Clean.
Organized.
Meticulous.
And stamped with a symbol Li Wei recognized instantly:
A crescent shape—sharp-edged.
The informal seal used by frontier scouts.
Zhang whispered, "A scout traitor?! No… that can't…"
Yao's face blanched.
He recognized something.
A handwriting pattern.
"Li Wei…" Yao whispered. "This is… familiar."
Li Wei's heart hammered. "Whose handwriting?"
Yao swallowed. Trembled.
Then pointed with a shaking finger.
"This is Mei Lin's handwriting."
Silence exploded into the chamber.
Zhang froze.
Yan Xiu's eyes widened in shock.
Peng gasped violently.
Even the prisoners looked horrified.
Li Wei stood perfectly still.
His pulse was thunder.
His lungs felt hollow.
The bronze shard burned hot against his skin.
Yan Xiu grabbed the scroll and examined it in disbelief.
"No… she—she was my ally—she would never—this is—"
But she couldn't deny what her eyes saw.
Mei Lin's delicate, precise script—unmistakable.
Yao whispered, "She's been feeding him information…"
Zhang shook violently. "Brother—she betrayed you."
Li Wei said nothing.
He stared at the scroll.
At her handwriting.
At proof so damning it felt like a blade to the chest.
Yan Xiu gripped Li Wei's arm tightly.
"Listen to me," she hissed. "This could be forged. Mimicked. Forced. Or—"
A whisper filled the chamber.
Soft.
Mocking.
Inescapably close.
"She told you she lied."
Li Wei stiffened.
The Hunter-General's voice.
"Now see the truth she hid from you."
Torches flared red.
The stone slab behind them shook.
And from the far shadows—
Footsteps.
Soft.
Familiar.
Steady.
A silhouette emerged.
Slim.
Cloaked.
Head bowed.
Yan Xiu gasped. "No… it can't be—"
Li Wei's breath caught.
The figure raised her head.
And Mei Lin stepped into the blood-colored light.
---
Teaser:
Mei Lin faces Li Wei in the tunnel—but is she traitor, pawn, or something far more dangerous than either side imagined?
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