Beneath the Shadow of the Old Tiger
Amidst the vibrant prosperity of Chang'an, the manor of Grand Secretary Lin Guang stood as a silent, imposing fortress. The atmosphere within its walls was stifling—heavy with a silence that radiated an invisible weight of authority.
Guards clad in dark tunics stood as rigid as statues at every post, their faces devoid of smiles or even the faintest whisper of conversation.
Lin Ying, dressed in her stygian black scouting gear, moved through a meticulously arranged stone garden until she came to a halt before a man waiting in the shadows of a willow tree. This was Han Feng, a twenty-seven-year-old general and the Grand Secretary's most loyal enforcer.
He gave a sharp, respectful nod, his eyes harboring a mix of reverence and caution toward the Eldest Miss.
"The Grand Secretary is waiting for you inside," Han Feng said, his voice low and rasping. "Regarding the Cloud-Mist Valley... it seems our scouts have finally unearthed a concrete trail."
Lin Ying headed straight for her father's private study. As she pushed open the heavy doors, the scent of ancient incense drifted forward. Behind a massive, intricately carved desk sat Grand Secretary Lin Guang. At sixty-five, he possessed a face that appeared deceptively kind, like a benevolent elder.
He was currently focused on calligraphy, his brush moving slowly across the paper. Yet, every stroke was executed with a lethal precision that betrayed a hidden, ruthless soul.
"You have returned... Ying'er," Lin Guang remarked without looking up. "How fares the atmosphere within the Imperial Palace?"
"It is as you expected, Father." Lin Ying knelt upon the cold stone floor, her voice a mask of absolute calm. "I have scouted the grounds.
Everything remains quiet. The Crown Prince and the court officials suspect nothing of our movements."
Lin Guang let out a low, satisfied chuckle. "Good... let them remain intoxicated by their comforts. My spies have reported that someone attempted to pawn a 'Zhao Clan Carved Wooden Plaque' at a border town near the Cloud-Mist Valley. This confirms it beyond a doubt—the surviving White Dragon heir is hiding there!"
He rose and walked to the window, gazing out at the starlit sky of Chang'an. "Twenty years ago, I made the mistake of letting a traitor's bloodline slip through my fingers... This time, I will not allow history to repeat itself."
The Death Ledger
Lin Guang returned to his desk and reached for a scroll made of stygian-black bamboo, sealed with a drop of crimson wax. This was the 'Death Ledger'—the ultimate sentence of demise. No victim whose name appeared within its slats had ever survived. He held the scroll out to his daughter.
"Ying'er... you are to head to the Cloud-Mist Valley immediately, ahead of Han Feng. Infiltrate the area and confirm the boy's identity. If he is indeed the heir of the Zhao Clan, as the reports suggest... execute him. Leave no root for future thorns to grow."
Lin Ying accepted the scroll with a formal bow. Her eyes behind her mask remained as still as a frozen lake. "I accept the command, Father."
Yet, beneath her icy exterior, her heart constricted with a violent ache. Her mother's voice echoed in the chambers of her mind:
'Ying'er... remember this. The blade in your hand is meant to protect the weak, not to extinguish the lives of the innocent.'
"Han Feng," Lin Guang turned to his general. "Gather the Black Tiger Bandits from the region and follow her as soon as possible. If Ying'er fails, or if anyone dares to interfere... raze that village to the ground. Leave no soul alive!"
Lin Ying lowered her head in a final salute before vanishing from the study as silently as a ghost. She set her sights on the Cloud-Mist Valley—not to kill as her father commanded, but to save the last drop of the White Dragon's blood.
An Oath Under the Moon
Before departing the city, Lin Ying slipped through the shadows to the furthest reaches of the manor, stopping before the 'Pavilion of the Celestial Bird.' This weathered building housed both secrets and ancient pain. She pushed the door open to find Madam Lin (Su Qing), her mother, whose eyes were perpetually clouded with a quiet sorrow.
"Mother... I must leave at once." Lin Ying hurried into her mother's embrace. "Father has ordered me to eliminate the Zhao heir. I have feigned obedience so that I may reach him first and save him."
Su Qing stroked her daughter's hair, her voice trembling slightly. "Ying'er... before you go, there is a truth from the past you must carry with you. The truth of the man who once owned this."
She reached into a silken pouch and withdrew a White Jade Pin carved with cloud motifs. "Long ago... in the moment of my greatest despair, Zhao Wen, the White Dragon General, saved my life. There was no romance between us, only a deep, mutual respect for honor. We performed a ceremony under the moonlight, drinking the oath of siblings of different surnames. Zhao Wen was the finest brother I ever had..."
She carefully tucked the pin into Lin Ying's hair. "But on the day the Zhao Clan was framed... I could do nothing but watch as his home was consumed by fire. Ying'er, if you find his son, you must not kill him. Protect him as his father once protected me. This is the fulfillment of the oath I made to Zhao Wen."
Lin Ying gripped her mother's hand and offered a rare, soft smile. "Do not worry, Mother... I will protect him with my life."
The Secret Camp and the Strategist's Gambit
Two days later, at a hidden campsite deep within the forest bordering the Cloud-Mist Valley, Zhuge Qing was studying a map under the watchful eyes of Liu Tian, Princess Lao Ying, and Wei Qing, who was busy sharpening his blade.
Whoosh! A black shadow flickered and landed in the center of the tent.
"You arrived faster than my calculations predicted... Nightbird," Zhuge Qing said with a knowing smile.
"The Strategist's eyes are as frighteningly sharp as ever," Lin Ying remarked, removing her mask as she bowed to the Crown Prince. "I have arrived to regroup, Your Highness. Strategist... my father has dispatched Han Feng and the Black Tiger Bandits to Cloud-Mist Valley. They are under orders to massacre the village. They will arrive shortly."
Zhuge Qing fell into a pensive silence. "Moving through the deep forest takes time. If the bandits arrive first, the land will be stained with innocent blood."
Lin Ying stepped forward, her resolve unshakable. "Then I suggest I travel ahead alone. If I leave now, I can reach the valley three to four days before the others. I will find the Zhao heir and warn the village so they can prepare before Han Feng strikes."
Zhuge Qing nodded in approval. "So be it. You are our first hope in reaching the White Dragon. Be careful."
"By your command!" Lin Ying clasped her hands in a final salute. She donned her mask once more and leapt into the darkness, racing to
ward the Cloud-Mist Valley alone.