Rumors reached the ruins before the smoke did.
It arrived the way all dangerous news traveled in the Northern Territories, sharpened by fear and carried by men who had already decided the truth was worse than the lie.
Li Wei heard it from a trader who had lost two fingers and spoke with a tremor that never quite left his voice.
They met near a collapsed waystation where the stone pillars still bore the marks of imperial chisels. Tang Li had remained behind with the child, and Li Wei had gone alone, his hood drawn low, the emerald compass quiet at his side.
The trader swallowed hard before speaking. "They say the ravine is gone," he muttered. "Not abandoned just gone. About eight camps were wiped out in a single night, no banners left standing. Just… bodies."
Li Wei's gaze stayed on the cracked ground.
"Who?" he asked.
The trader hesitated, then leaned closer. "Li Wuji."
