Everything the woman said proved true.
Inside the dim study of Official Han Duqing's residence, Jin Yue sifted through the documents with calm, precise movements. The room was quiet in the way only powerful households could afford to be...thick walls, heavy doors, silence bought with authority. Moonlight crept in through the lattice window, cutting pale lines across the lacquered floor, and Jin Yue's shadow stretched long and narrow as he moved.
He did not rush.
He did not need to.
Each paper was lifted, examined, and set aside with deliberate care, as though he were sorting fishing nets rather than uncovering crimes. The study smelled faintly of ink and old wood, layered with the dry scent of parchment that had been handled too often by hands confident they would never be questioned.
Forged land deeds.
Two certificates for the same plot...identical seals, identical dates. One bore the original owner's name, written neatly, modestly. The other had been overwritten with Han Duqing's bold strokes, confident and heavy, the ink pressed deep as though daring anyone to challenge it.
Jin Yue's eyes narrowed slightly.
A ledger followed.
Page after page of numbers marched neatly down the paper, columns aligned, totals balanced. At first glance, it was nothing more than careful accounting. But the descriptions betrayed the truth.
"Processing fees.""Administrative compensation.""Expedited handling."
Bribes, wrapped in respectable language.
And tucked deeper, beneath a stack of monthly reports bound with string...
A falsified crime statement.
The paper was thinner than the others, the ink fresher.
Her husband's name was written at the top.
Jin Yue paused.
Below it, accusations were listed with practiced efficiency: theft, trespassing, resisting arrest. Words chosen not to describe truth, but to justify an outcome already decided. Yet when Jin Yue opened the desk drawer beneath, his fingers found the truth hidden where it was never meant to be seen.
Sealed testimonies.
Witness statements written in different hands, different tones, all consistent in one thing.
The man was innocent.
He had argued.He had protested.He had refused to give up land that had been his family's for generations.
But he had not committed a crime.
Jin Yue's jaw tightened.
The final document lay heavier than the rest.
An execution order.
Official seals stamped cleanly at the top, red wax long since hardened. The date matched the widow's trembling account. At the bottom, the signature flowed confidently across the page.
Official Han Duqing.
Jin Yue's grip firmed, just enough for the paper to bend slightly beneath his fingers. The faint sound of parchment creasing echoed louder in his ears than it should have. His face, however, remained unreadable...still as deep water, hiding everything beneath its surface.
He murdered a man to steal land.
And the empire looked the other way.
No wonder the widow had knelt in the dirt, forehead pressed to the ground, begging the dead for justice no living person would give her. No wonder her voice had broken when she spoke his name, as though saying it aloud was the only proof he had ever existed.
The room felt colder.
Moonlight shifted as clouds passed overhead, and pale light settled on Jin Yue's fishing rod, resting quietly against the wall. The Flowstone bound to it pulsed faintly, a soft, steady heartbeat of blue.
As if acknowledging his anger.As if urging him to act.
Jin Yue exhaled slowly.
The sound was quiet, barely more than breath leaving his lungs, but it carried the weight of a decision made without hesitation or regret.
This man…
He deserves to face the truth he tried to bury.
The thought settled, heavy and final.
Then...
A faint noise pricked at his senses.
Footsteps.
Soft, measured thuds approaching from outside the study.
Not hurried.Not panicked.
Close.
Very close.
Jin Yue's eyes sharpened, his entire awareness narrowing to that sound alone. Each step was deliberate, unafraid, belonging to someone who believed this house, this corridor, this room existed for them alone.
Someone's coming.I've stayed too long.
Without hesitation, Jin Yue slipped the incriminating documents into his sleeve. The motion was smooth, practiced, the papers sliding into place without a sound. He took a single breath to steady himself and scanned the room one last time.
Everything remained exactly as he had found it.
Papers aligned.Drawers closed.No sign of disturbance.
He moved.
Jin Yue ghosted toward the rear corridor, his steps silent, the soft whisper of his robes barely brushing the lacquered wood beneath his feet. The footsteps outside grew louder now, echoing faintly through the polished hallway. They were steady, confident, unhurried.
A man returning to his own study.
Jin Yue's hand tightened around his fishing rod, fingers curling around the familiar wood. The Flowstone's pulse remained calm, steady, as though mirroring his resolve.
If they see me… it will get messy.I can't expose myself here.
He reached the open window at the back of the study just as a shadow appeared beneath the door. The latch rattled softly.
No time left.
In one fluid motion, Jin Yue slipped through the window, landing soundlessly in the courtyard behind the residence. Cool night air brushed against his cheek, carrying the faint scent of damp stone and garden soil. He flattened himself against the wall, body pressed close to the shadows, just as the study door slid open behind him.
A voice muttered inside, low and irritated.
Drawers opened.Wood creaked.
Someone cursed under their breath.
But Jin Yue was already moving.
He darted through a narrow gap between two decorative stone lions, their carved eyes staring sightlessly ahead. He slipped past the garden fence, feet barely touching the ground, and vanished into the alley beyond.
There, the city swallowed him whole.
Shadows folded around his form, rooftops breaking the moonlight into fractured lines as he moved like a ripple of moonlight swallowed by darkness.
By the time the household realized something was wrong, there would be nothing left to find.
Jin Yue did not look back.
Tomorrow night…
Justice would find him.