The Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun moved silently toward the front courtyard.
Pavilions, towers, winding corridors, rockeries, ponds—he slipped through them all with practiced ease. Having entered earlier together with Tie Niaofei, he already had the entire layout engraved in his wooden "mind." Retracing the route now was effortless.
Besides, as a puppet, he didn't need to follow human paths.
If there was a shortcut, he took it.
A hole in the wall? Crawl through it.
A pond in the way? Float across it.
Wood floated on water, after all. And floating while drifting lazily across a pond was, surprisingly, quite refreshing.
In only a short while, he reached the front hall.
Slipping in along the edge of the main doorway, he scurried beneath tables and chairs, weaving through a forest of legs, until he reached a large folding screen. He ducked behind it and cautiously peeked out.
Inside the hall, Sun Chuanting had already composed himself and was sitting upright, face solemn. A guest sat opposite him.
That guest wore civil robes paired with armor—no one else but Zhang Zongheng, Supreme Commander of Xuan-Da.
"Master Sun," Zhang Zongheng said coldly, "one may eat whatever one wishes, but words—once written—cannot be taken back. You cannot smear a man's reputation with nothing but empty talk."
This was the first sentence the Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun heard upon arriving.
Clearly, the two had already discussed the issue of evidence. And just as clearly, Sun Chuanting had been unable to produce any. Zhang Zongheng's tone carried open reproach.
Sun Chuanting sighed lightly. "To be honest, I do not possess concrete proof. Neither did the person who reported this to me. That is why I did not entirely believe his words."
"If you didn't fully believe him," Zhang Zongheng pressed, "then why did you dare to write Tian Shenglan's name into a document and place it before me?"
Sun Chuanting remained calm. "It is said that one should harbor no ill will—but it is even more foolish to have no guard at all. My informant claimed that while outsiders may not see the truth, those inside the trade all know about Tian Shenglan's dealings with foreign enemies. Governor Zhang, does that not warrant attention?"
Zhang Zongheng's eyes narrowed. "Explain."
Sun Chuanting gave a soft, humorless chuckle. "For example—there are officials whom the common people praise as upright and incorruptible. Yet within official circles, merely hearing their names makes everyone shake their heads."
Zhang Zongheng's expression darkened.
Indeed.
No one understood internal affairs better than those on the inside.
If even fellow merchants whispered about Tian Shenglan, then the odds of his guilt were far from small.
"Still," Zhang Zongheng said after a pause, "without solid evidence, I cannot move against him. Tian Shenglan is no ordinary merchant. Many officials and soldiers stationed at the Datong frontier rely on him for provisions. To act on rumors alone would only please our enemies, alienate our allies, and chill the hearts of the troops."
"That is only reasonable," Sun Chuanting replied. "I merely ask that Your Excellency keep a discreet watch on him. When he conducts business at the border, assign men to observe closely. Who knows what useful clues might surface."
Zhang Zongheng nodded slightly, then asked, "Why not summon the man who reported this matter to you? I would question him myself."
"He has not yet left the city," Sun Chuanting answered. "He is staying at an inn. I will send someone to bring him."
At that moment, Li Daoxuan flicked his thoughts and shifted his awareness back to Tie Niaofei.
"Zhang Zongheng has arrived," Li Daoxuan said. "He wants evidence."
Tie Niaofei panicked. "But I don't have any real proof! What am I supposed to say?"
"We truly have none," Li Daoxuan replied calmly. "Tell him the names of all eight great Imperial Merchants. Include Huang Yunfa—the one we already killed. Stress how serious the situation is, and let Zhang Zongheng decide how to act."
Tie Niaofei took a breath. "Understood."
Li Daoxuan's consciousness shifted back to the Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun.
By now, Sun Chuanting had already sent a servant to fetch Tie Niaofei. While waiting, he and Zhang Zongheng spoke casually about frontier affairs—conditions beyond the Great Wall, military deployments, recent campaigns.
Li Daoxuan listened idly. Many of the names they mentioned were unfamiliar. He couldn't even be bothered to consult his computer.
His attention was beginning to drift—
When suddenly, a name snapped him awake.
"Kong Youde."
The three syllables struck his ears like a hammer.
Sun Chuanting sighed deeply. "That wretch Kong Youde has betrayed the court and laid siege to Laizhou. The city has been surrounded for over a month now. I can only wonder how the people inside are enduring."
Li Daoxuan's memory stirred instantly.
He knew this history.
In the second month of the fifth year of Chongzhen, Kong Youde rebelled and besieged Laizhou. The siege would drag on for more than four months, only ending in July. After being defeated and left with nowhere to flee, Kong Youde would defect to the Manchus.
That defection would be catastrophic.
Warships. Firearms. Technology. Skilled personnel.
All handed over.
It was now early June of Chongzhen Year Five. The turning point was barely a month away—and Li Daoxuan knew he might be powerless to stop it.
Then, a thought surfaced.
He chuckled silently.
Hadn't he been worrying about the lack of evidence to convince Zhang Zongheng of the Jin merchants' treachery?
If he played the Kong Youde affair well… perhaps this could become the lever.
His gaze swept through the hall.
And then—he found it.
In one corner stood a small shrine. Inside it rested a statue of Guanyin.
Li Daoxuan grinned.
The Puppet Dao Xuan Tianzun crept forward, climbed the shrine with care, and slipped behind the statue, clinging tightly to its back. The Guanyin figure stood thirty to forty centimeters tall, while the puppet was smaller than a palm—utterly invisible from the outside.
A red cloth draped the shrine, blocking any oblique view.
This hiding place was perfect.
Once he confirmed there were no gaps, he spoke.
"Sun Chuanting…"
"Zhang Zongheng…"
He deliberately slowed his speech, stretching the final syllables, alternating between a thin whisper and a gravelly rasp. The voice was neither clearly male nor female, neither old nor young.
It echoed through the hall like something dredged up from a nightmare.
Both men jolted.
"Who's there?"
"Who spoke?!"
Their eyes locked onto the shrine.
"Sun Chuanting…"
"Zhang Zongheng…"
The voice came again.
They exchanged glances and reached the same conclusion—the sound was coming from the Guanyin statue.
Yet neither man was a fool.
Both instantly dismissed the idea of a real spirit.
Someone is hiding behind the shrine.
That was their shared thought.
Never inside it. Only behind.
In perfect coordination, both men lunged forward, sabers flashing, flanking the shrine from left and right.
Nothing.
Their expressions changed.
At once, they spun back, yanked open the shrine's cabinet doors—
Empty.
Utterly empty.