The warehouse still smelled faintly of rain-soaked timber and old incense. The faint light of dawn seeped through the cracks in the shutters, painting thin blades of gray across the dusty floorboards. Li Wei's steps were soft but carried the weight of fatigue, as his robes were still damp from the lake, the faint scent of ozone clinging to him.
Leng Yue stood near the far table, her figure half-shrouded in lamplight. Her hands rested on a teapot grown cold, the steam long vanished. Opposite her sat Pei Wong, the late councilman's son with a rigid posture, eyes unfocused. His garments were muddied, one sleeve torn, the faint crimson stains of his father's blood still dark on his cuff.
Li Wei paused at the threshold for a moment, letting the silence breathe between them before stepping forward. The boards creaked softly under his weight. ~Creak…~
Leng Yue turned, relief flickering briefly in her weary eyes. "You're back."
