Jinghe Year Sixteen, Third Month, Thirteenth Day, night.
Night settled over the Southern Capital. Music and song drifted faintly from the Qinhuai River, across half the city, soft as a veil of gauze.
In an alley in the south of the city, vendors lit their lamps to sell late-night food, their cries rising and falling in the wind.
In the small courtyard of the Wei Residence, the study was still lit. Wei Nisheng had yet to retire and was staring distractedly at several rolls of documents he had brought home.
"My lord." Cui Fu's low voice came from outside the door.
"Master Zhang is here. He says he has urgent business."
"Show him in at once."
When Zhang Zai entered, the dampness of the night dew still clung to him. He gripped a letter, the writing on its envelope slightly blurred where sweat had soaked into it.
"Zi'an, my in-laws' caravan has been released!"
"When the caravan left the city, Prince Jin sent runners to escort it along the official road.
Less than thirty li outside Taiyuan, the escort withdrew, saying, 'His Highness ordered us only to escort you out of the city.'
The caravan was left to make its own way after that. For now, at least, they're safe."
"And this is the letter sent ahead by a mounted courier from the caravan..." Zhang Zai handed it over.
"They also reported something they had seen and heard."
Wei Nisheng took the letter, opened it, and read it closely beneath the lamplight.
It was from the Li Family's elderly head shopkeeper. The letter was short, its handwriting scrawled as though written in haste.
His eyes swept through ten lines at a glance, then stopped on one and lingered there.
"What is it?" Seeing something was wrong, Zhang Zai hurried closer