The sun had barely risen when a soldier burst into Shen Lian's chambers.
"A body, my lady," he panted. "By the well."
She moved without a word, Zhou at her side.
The corpse lay face-down in the frost, hair tangled, neck twisted. It was the young laundress from three nights before—gentle, quiet, and always watching.
Zhou knelt beside her. "She was strangled. No struggle."
Shen Lian's gaze swept the area. No signs of a scuffle. No drag marks. Clean.
"Too clean," she murmured. "This was planned."
In her study, she laid out the names again. The ledger now had ink on its pages—some accurate, some forged. But she knew the pattern.
Three shipments went missing under the same officer. Two of those officers now reported to the same quartermaster. And the laundress? She had access to the bathing hall where messages changed hands.
Someone silenced her.
But not before she left something behind.
Zhou returned with a damp scrap of cloth clutched in his palm. Embroidered on the edge, barely visible, a character: "Yu."
"The officer surnamed Yu?" he asked.
Shen Lian nodded. "He's a coward. He wouldn't kill. But he'd report."
She rose.
"Summon the quartermaster. Privately."
That evening, Shen Lian sat alone in the mess hall, a single lamp casting long shadows across the table.
The quartermaster entered, flanked by two guards.
"You sent reports to the capital," Shen Lian said without preamble.
He hesitated. "I… only routine accounts—"
"Routine reports don't require false signatures."
She slid the forged parchment across the table.
His face blanched.
"I could have you hung," she said. "But you'll be more useful alive."
She leaned forward, her voice a blade.
"You'll deliver one more message. One that says: the girl from the cold palace is dead weight. That she's lost, floundering, no threat to anyone."
The man blinked. "But… that's not true."
"It will be," she smiled, "until it isn't."
That night, under the stars, Zhou watched as the message was dispatched.
"She's baiting them," he murmured to himself.
And in her room, Shen Lian dipped her brush in ink, writing names beside new roles.
One traitor removed.
Two allies elevated.
A power reshaped, behind a smile.