Yun Shou poured tea with steady hands, as if they hadn't been stained by ruined lives.
The porcelain cup trembled only slightly as he slid it across the table to Li Fan.
"You came with the wind," Yun Shou said, still smiling. "But you never were wind. You were paper. Folded, obedient, predictable."
Li Fan didn't sit.
He didn't touch the tea.
"I came to hear you confess," he said quietly.
Yun chuckled. "Confess? Li Fan, this isn't some provincial tribunal. There are no drums outside, no peasants holding stones, no magistrates waiting to pretend they care."
Li Fan's eyes didn't blink. "You think you're safe."
"I know I'm safe," Yun said, raising his cup to his lips. "This city is not Heaven's Hollow. It's mine. Bought and paid for, coin and favor. Sect elders dine at my table. Trade princes owe me daughters and debts."
Li Fan stepped closer. "You framed three children. Had their mother flogged in public. Why?"
Yun's smile faded.
He didn't deny it.
He set the cup down and leaned back.
"You were getting loud," Yun said softly. "You wanted to be a hero. But heroes drown in ledgers, Fan. Heroes starve with villagers."
Li Fan's hand twitched near his hidden blade.
Yun noticed.
"I should thank you," Yun continued. "Your silence let me build something real. I left behind the rotting corpse of the empire and created something cleaner. Efficient. Controlled."
Li Fan's voice was a whisper. "You murdered innocence."
"I curated order."
Yun stood now, walking slowly toward a shelf. "Let me show you something."
He removed a scroll, its edges worn but preserved with care. "The Audit Bureau's projected famine report for Year 312. This was real. The collapse was real. But they ignored it. You remember that?"
Li Fan did. He had helped compile the numbers.
Yun turned, eyes glowing now. "I used my forgeries to divert stores. Grain flowed from empty temples to full hands. Yes, a few lives were lost. But thousands lived."
Li Fan clenched his jaw. "You're justifying murder."
"I'm explaining that I saw the world as it is."
Yun took a slow breath. "You don't kill for justice, Fan. No one does. You kill because you believe your blade is truer than the law."
The words slid like oil on water.
Li Fan wanted to lunge. To drive the knife through that well-fed heart. But he didn't move.
"Do you remember their names?" he asked.
Yun raised a brow. "Who?"
"The children. The woman. The ones you used to protect yourself."
Yun tilted his head. "No. And neither do you. You remember pain, not names. That's why you're here."
Li Fan's blade clicked softly from its sheath.
But again—he paused.
Something was off.
Yun was too calm.
Too inviting.
In the silence, a soft tap came from the wall. Yue's code—two quick knocks.
Warning. Multiple presences.
Li Fan adjusted his posture, casually brushing his sleeve. Then, out loud:
"I want to show you something too."
Yun smirked. "And what's that?"
Li Fan drew a thin piece of paper from his belt. "An execution order. Stamped by the Cloudshadow Sect."
Yun's smile faltered. "Impossible."
Li Fan stepped forward, voice low. "They're done with you. You made too many enemies. One more scandal and they'll lose a voting seat in the Grand Assembly. So they're using us to erase you quietly."
Yun stared at the paper. "Lies."
"No. Just politics."
The door burst open.
Yue, Jiao, and Zhao entered in a blur. Steel flashed. Three masked guards fell without a sound.
Yun staggered back, eyes wide. "You dare—!"
"You're already dead," Li Fan said.
He didn't yell.
He didn't strike in anger.
The dagger pierced cleanly beneath Yun's ribs, angled upward into the heart.
No blood sprayed.
Just a single gasp. A twitch. A slow slump to the floor.
Yun Shou, former magistrate of Autumnvale, died surrounded by antiques and silence.
They left the body untouched, a scroll pinned to his chest bearing the crimson mark of the Scarlet Ghosts.
By the time the guild servants awoke, the killers were gone.
No alarms rang.
No witnesses saw.
Only one mirror in the room remained cracked—split cleanly down the middle.
Back in their teahouse safehouse, Zhao dropped into a chair. "He didn't even beg."
"He didn't think he'd lose," Jiao replied, wiping her blade clean.
Yue looked at Li Fan. "You were going to kill him no matter what, weren't you?"
Li Fan didn't answer.
He walked to the window, watching the moonlight spill across the alley below. Heaven's Hollow looked peaceful tonight. But only from a distance.
"He thought the world was a ledger," Li Fan finally said. "One he could balance with blood and gold."
Jiao asked, "And what do you think it is?"
Li Fan turned, eyes hard. "A debt. And someone has to pay it back."