By morning light, Jin Yue was already moving through the town.
Dawn crept in slowly, pale gold spilling over tiled roofs and narrow streets, washing away the cover of night. Shops lifted their wooden shutters one by one. Smoke rose from kitchen fires. The city stretched itself awake, unaware that its secrets were already being gathered.
Jin Yue kept his hood low, blending into the steady flow of early workers, vendors, and servants hurrying to begin their day. He walked neither too fast nor too slow, careful to match the pace around him. In the morning, people noticed what stood out. He made sure he did not.
The city felt different under the sun.
Less chaotic.More exposed.
At night, darkness swallowed mistakes. In daylight, everything stood bare and unprotected. Secrets hid better in shadows than in sunlight...but whispers…
Whispers were everywhere.
Jin Yue did not ask questions directly.
He did not need to.
He listened.
At a noodle stall near the main road, steam billowed into the air as a vendor poured broth into waiting bowls. Jin Yue paused nearby, pretending to adjust the strap of his fishing rod. Two men stood close, voices sharp with irritation as they argued over coins.
"I'm telling you, the taxes went up again."
"Again?" the second man scoffed. "They were raised last season!"
"Ever since that man took charge of this district… nothing but trouble."
"That man?" the second asked, lowering his voice. "You mean Han Duqing?"
Jin Yue dipped his head slightly, as if focused on the ground. He memorized the tone...resentment mixed with fear, anger restrained by caution. These were not drunk complaints. These were practiced frustrations, repeated often enough to grow familiar.
He moved on.
At a public well farther down the road, women gathered with buckets balanced on their hips. They spoke while working, hands practiced, movements automatic. Their voices were softer, but no less sharp.
"I heard he seized old Ma's orchard last month."
"No, seized isn't the right word," another woman replied, snorting quietly. "Stole. He claimed Ma violated some land law, then changed the deed overnight."
"That poor family worked that land for generations."
"Who can fight him?" someone else muttered. "He controls the guards."
Jin Yue slowed mid-step, then continued walking as though nothing had caught his attention.
He changes land deeds… like the woman said.
The confirmation settled into place with unsettling ease.
Near the marketplace, the streets widened. Merchants arranged their goods. Porters shouted directions. Jin Yue passed a group of street children playing with sticks near an empty cart, their laughter sharp and unrestrained.
One boy stumbled, shoved by another, and shouted angrily as he caught his balance.
"Don't push me like that! I'm not some criminal for Han Duqing to beat!"
The others burst into laughter, mocking the tone, repeating the name as though it were a joke.
Jin Yue did not smile.
Children learned names like that early. Not from stories, but from watching adults lower their voices.
Even the children know his cruelty.
Further down the road, the crowds thinned slightly. Two elderly men sat beneath the shade of an awning, sharing tea that had long gone cold. Their conversation was low, but grief carried weight.
"They executed that poor farmer too quickly," one said, shaking his head. "No trial. No investigation."
"Han Duqing wanted that land," the other replied bitterly. "Everyone knows."
"But who dares challenge him?"
The first man stared into his cup for a long moment.
"Only ghosts would listen to the widow now."
Jin Yue passed without stopping. His grip tightened slightly around his fishing rod, though his face remained calm, eyes forward.
She wasn't praying to ghosts.She was praying to anyone willing to hear.
And someone had.
He continued walking, letting the voices weave together behind him. Each complaint, each rumor, each bitter mutter threaded itself into a pattern too consistent to deny.
A bribe taken here.A forged document there.A man who climbed through rank by bending laws until they snapped.
This was not isolated cruelty. It was a system...one that fed itself, growing stronger the longer it went unchallenged.
The district feared Han Duqing more than it respected him.
The realization settled heavily, like silt sinking to the bottom of clear water.
The more Jin Yue listened, the more the shape of Han Duqing's corruption rose in his mind...dark and spreading, seeping into every corner of daily life. It stained conversations. It shaped behavior. It taught people what could not be said aloud.
Soon, he noticed something else.
People avoided one street.
Not openly. Not dramatically. They simply did not walk there unless they had reason to. Conversations faded as they passed its mouth. Even footsteps seemed to soften nearby.
Even the breeze seemed to hold its breath.
Tall walls rose ahead, casting long shadows across the road. High gates stood closed, polished and imposing. Red lanterns hung in careful symmetry, untouched by dust, their silk bright and immaculate.
Han Duqing's residence.
A place too clean.Too orderly.
A place where power, greed, and corruption pooled like stagnant water beneath a still surface.
Jin Yue slowed, eyes calm, face unreadable. He did not stare. He observed the way fishermen studied a river...patiently, noting currents and hidden depths.
So this is where it starts.And where it will end.
The Flowstone bound to his fishing rod pulsed faintly, once, steady and quiet, as if acknowledging the path before him.
With a silent breath, Jin Yue turned away from the main road and slipped into a narrow alley running along the side wall. The noise of the city faded behind him, replaced by shadow and stone and careful thought.
He moved lightly, scanning the wall, searching for weakness.
Ready to unravel the truth with his own hands.