Morning in Lower Yulong City was cloaked in mist, like the city's heavy, hopeless breath. Inside the cracked hut, Jin Lian stood looking different. It wasn't her clothes that had changed—they were still ragged, though she'd cleaned them of the slaughterhouse blood as best she could—it was her gaze. Her ashen eyes, which had burned with hidden fire the night before, were now cold, clear, like the surface of a frozen lake. She stared at Mo Tianyin, who explained his latest plan like a commander assigning roles for a fateful battle.
"Ling Xiao," Mo Tianyin said, letting the slave merchant's son's name roll off his tongue like a poisoned chess piece. "A foolish teenager, drunk on vanity, because he's a 'mixed-blood' who sells the 'tainted-blooded'. He loves attention, loves being envied, and loves… proving his strength over those weaker than him—especially girls." Mo Tianyin's gaze pierced Jin Lian. "That's your entrance. You will be the bait."
Jin Lian didn't object. She didn't ask about the bloody details that might follow. She simply nodded. "What do I say? What do I do?"
Mo Tianyin gave her precise instructions, like silk threads weaving a spider's web around an unsuspecting fly:
Location: The central market square, near the exotic fruit vendors—a place where Ling Xiao often wandered, showing off his wealth.
Time: Just before noon, when the market would start crowding.
The bait: A mirror. A small, silver-framed, finely crafted mirror that Mo Tianyin had stolen from a drunken noble one dark night. "What kind of tainted girl owns such a thing?" he whispered. "It will spark his curiosity, his pride, his hunger to control."
The lie: "I found it… in the dirt. Near the ruins of the old palace." A simple falsehood, but one laced with the temptation of discovery and ownership. "But… I might sell it. I'm hungry." Feigned weakness—the eternal bait for small predators.
"He will stop," Mo Tianyin assured her, his eyes carrying the certainty of mathematical calculation. "He'll ask about it. He'll offer to buy it for a pitiful price—or simply take it. And then… you refuse." He raised a finger in warning. "The initial refusal increases his desire. It makes him think you're hiding something valuable. You'll glance toward the palace of the 'Yun Clan'—home of the noble we saw at the slave market. He'll assume you're a runaway maid… or a thief."
Jin Lian understood. The game was complex, dangerous, relying on psychological manipulation of a stupid but privileged boy armed with deadly power. "And then?"
"Then… you let him 'rescue' you." Mo Tianyin smiled, but the smile didn't touch his eyes. "He'll take you—by force or by charm—to a hunting party hosted by Yun Zehan this evening in his estate outside the city. A hunt… for escaped slaves. You'll be his personal servant—for the night." A sharp look. "Inside, you'll be a knife. Eyes. Ears. You'll learn everything: Yun Zehan's movements, defenses, weaknesses… and Ling Xiao himself. Then... you'll see the signal."
"What signal?"
"You'll know it." His answer was intentionally vague. Full trust hadn't been earned yet. "Just remember: every word, every look, every sigh… is a weapon. Arrogance is blind. Use it."
• • •
The city's main market was a different world—colorful, chaotic, and saturated with scent. Vendors shouted over one another: fine silks from the east, nose-stinging spices, exotic fruits glowing in unnatural colors. Here, the "mixed-blood" merchants and guards mingled with the lowest class—"tainted" servants carrying their purchases. The gap was visible: the rich strolled lazily, sampling and haggling with boredom; the poor hurried with downcast eyes, trying to hide their blue caste marks under hats or falling hair.
Jin Lian stood near a vendor selling star-shaped golden fruits. She gripped the silver mirror in her hand, hidden inside her tattered robes. Her only comfort was the knife strapped beneath her clothing. She took a deep breath, suppressing the scent of fear that might betray her, and raised her head slightly. She watched.
And before long, she saw him.
Ling Xiao. He walked like a peacock in a henhouse. Seventeen years old, dressed in gaudy silk—wealthy but tasteless. His face was handsome but shallow, and his eyes wandered with greed and vanity. Behind him, two "tainted" servants carried his purchases, heads bowed, necks hunched under the weight of oppression and goods.
Jin Lian stepped into his path with measured grace. Then, at the perfect moment, she pulled out the mirror. She didn't raise it high—just enough for the sun to catch it and reflect a glint into Ling Xiao's eyes. She stared at it with an expression of possessive concern, then flicked a quick, nervous glance toward the nobles' gate—where the Yun estate stood.
"You there!" Ling Xiao's voice carried false authority. "What's in your hand?"
Jin Lian gripped the mirror tightly, partially hiding it behind her back. "Nothing, sir! Just… something I found." Her voice was soft, but with a calculated tremble.
"Found it?" Ling Xiao stepped closer, eyes glinting with greed. "In the dirt? You don't look like a girl who finds treasure." He sneered. "Give it to me."
She shook her head firmly, stepping back. "No… it's mine. I found it near… the old stones." Another nervous glance, carefully placed, toward the nobles' gate.
Ling Xiao noticed. A spark of suspicion and intrigue lit his dumb, greedy eyes. "Near the old stones? That's close to Yun Zehan's palace!" he whispered, excited by the scent of scandal. "Who are you? One of his runaway maids? A thief?"
Jin Lian looked down, silent, as if hiding something terrible. That silence was more convincing than any lie.
Ling Xiao grinned, drunk on perceived power. "I see. You have a problem, girl." He pretended to think. "But maybe I can help you. Yun Zehan is a friend of mine, you know?" A blatant lie. "There's a party at his estate tonight. A hunt… for fun." A lecherous gaze scanned her thin frame. "Be my personal servant for the night. I'll protect you from his anger… maybe even reward you." He gestured at the mirror. "After the party, you might forget about this little toy."
Jin Lian feigned hesitation, fear. She sighed, then nodded submissively, eyes downcast. "As you command, sir."
Ling Xiao puffed up like a toad. "Good! Come along." He waved her forward, ignoring his burdened servants. "Let me show you how nobles live."
• • •
Yun Zehan's estate outside the city walls was a garden of cruel luxury. Vast gardens watered by clean rivers unseen in the lower city. Grand halls linked by open corridors. And above all, the Hunting Arena—a fenced, semi-wild area filled with trees and rough terrain. It was where slaves would be released at night and hunted like beasts by drunken nobles and their guards.
The party was already ablaze when Ling Xiao and Jin Lian arrived. High torches turned night into day. Loud music, smells of roasted meat and expensive wine filled the air. Young nobles, men and women alike, swayed from drunken laughter, clad in ornate hunting robes. In the middle of it all, like a king on a throne of arrogance, sat Yun Zehan. His golden caste mark gleamed under the firelight. His eyes gleamed with sadistic glee. One hand held a wine cup. The other held a gold-plated whip.
"Ah! Ling Xiao!" Yun Zehan shouted upon spotting him. "You brought a new maid? Hope she's not too scrawny—the hunt will be wild tonight!" Laughter erupted.
Ling Xiao shoved Jin Lian forward slightly. "Just a tainted girl, but… special." He whispered something in Yun's ear that made the noble laugh louder.
"Good! Let her serve us wine!" Yun Zehan commanded.
Ling Xiao pushed her toward the wine table. "Listen and obey! And don't even think of running. The walls are high… and the guards are hungry." He laughed and joined the other drunkards.
Jin Lian began her task. She lifted a heavy silver jug of wine. Poured into crystal cups with steady hands. Her eyes remained low, but her vision swept the room.
She saw:
The guards: Numbers, positions, weapons. Some "mixed-blood," arrogant. Others "tainted," conscripted by force, with frightened, hateful eyes.
Entrances and exits: Open corridors, side doors, a watchtower above.
Yun Zehan: His habits. She saw him strike a servant with his golden whip for spilling wine. Arrogance unchecked. No real discipline. A pampered beast.
Ling Xiao: Groveling for Yun's approval. His weakness: desperate desire to be accepted by the upper caste.
Then came the announcement that froze the servants' blood and ignited noble laughter.
"Time for the hunt!" Yun Zehan roared, legs wide, face flushed with drunken thrill. "Release the prey! Twenty of the fastest escaped slaves! Whoever brings me their leader's head… shall be rewarded with gold by its weight!"
Hysterical cheers. Jin Lian saw a large side door open. A group of shirtless, shackled "tainted" men and women were shoved out roughly into the dark woods. Their eyes wide with terror. One guard fired a warning arrow overhead, prompting a panicked stampede into the trees like startled deer thrown to lions.
The door slammed shut. Silence.
Then a whistle.
The hunt began.
Laughter and screams filled the night as nobles entered the hunting ground, torches and weapons in hand. Music continued, barely masking the distant, horrifying cries echoing from the darkness.
Inside the hall, a few servants remained—Jin Lian among them—under harsh watch. The air reeked of wine and fear. Jin Lian filled cups mechanically, her mind racing. The signal. When would it come?
Suddenly, she felt a heavy gaze. She looked up slightly.
On a high balcony near the small tower stood a man. Not a noble. Dressed in plain dark clothes, posture rigid, observant. His face was shadowed, but something about him felt… familiar. Dangerous. A mixed-blood… but unlike the rest. His eyes scanned the party, then locked on her, as if he knew her.
Supervisor? Enforcer? She didn't know, but the danger had grown.
Then came the signal.
Not a whistle. Not a gesture. A scent. Faint smoke, laced with certain burnt herbs. The same scent from the small pot in Mo Tianyin's hut last night. It came from outside the estate, carried by the wind—mixed with the smell of torches.
Now.
Jin Lian shook her head slightly, like brushing away a fly. As she approached Ling Xiao, who had just returned from the hunt, his clothes stained with someone else's blood, she held the wine jug. Her step faltered—intentionally—and she almost fell. The heavy silver jug slipped from her hand…
And struck Ling Xiao's foot, crashing onto the stone floor, wine splashing like golden waterfalls on his silk shoes.
Silence. Music stopped. All eyes turned.
Ling Xiao jumped back, screeching. "You animal! My clothes! Eastern silk! You couldn't pay for it in a thousand lives!"
Jin Lian fell to her knees in the wine, feigning terror. "Sir! Forgive me! I stumbled… please!" Real tears—from buried rage—sparkled in her eyes, making the scene more real.
"Forgive you?!" Ling Xiao bellowed, red with rage and embarrassment. "I'll make you pay with the skin off your back!" He lunged to grab her by the hair.
At that exact moment, from the high balcony, the man in dark clothes descended like a shadow. Silent. Swift. Combat-trained. He placed a firm hand on Ling Xiao's shoulder, halting him.
"Enough," the man said, voice calm but authoritative. His face now visible under the firelight: sharp features, piercing ashen eyes, and a simple "mixed-blood" mark on his forehead. "She's just a stupid maid. The estate has wine. Slave-merchant Ling Bo can send you two more tomorrow." A cold look at Ling Xiao. "Don't ruin Lord Yun Zehan's night with a petty tantrum."
Ling Xiao hesitated. His pride wounded. But he shrank under the man's authority. "But… my clothes, Master Chen!"
"Tell the estate's tailor to mend them." Master Chen said, without room for argument. Then looked at Jin Lian, testing her with blade-like eyes. "As for you… go to the kitchen. Scrub the floors until dawn. That's your punishment."
Jin Lian nodded quickly, feigning panic, and retreated through the back kitchen door. Her heart raced—not with fear, but with exhilaration. The signal had come. Chaos had been seeded. And Master Chen… was a new piece on the board. One Mo Tianyin hadn't mentioned. A new, unexpected danger.
Inside the kitchen—hot, chaotic, noisy—other "tainted" maids worked nonstop, eyes fearful. A head cook shouted at her, pointing at a mop and bucket in the corner. She knelt, began "her punishment."
But her eyes weren't on the floor. They watched a high window on the kitchen wall. A window that looked out… toward the hunting ground.
In the darkness, she saw flickers. Not fire or steel—green glimmers, soft, like animal eyes… or signals. Appearing, vanishing in planned directions. Mo Tianyin. He was here. Inside the estate. Watching. Guiding. Perhaps… setting the next move.
Jin Lian smiled into the filthy water. The punishment was a gift. Here, in the shadow, away from Master Chen's watchful gaze, she could see. Listen. Plan.
Outside, from the hunting ground, the wind carried a long, human scream—blended with monstrous laughter. Then silence.
Jin Lian gripped the mop hard. The knife under her clothes pressed close. The night wasn't over. The first bridge—the one called Ling Bo—was starting to crack. And she… was the rot that had begun the digging.