The letter arrived folded in four, tucked inside a bundle of plum-scented parchment.
Zhou placed it on the lacquered table. "Third Prince's seal. But no signature."
Shen Lian opened it, eyes flicking across the single line:
'Midnight. Moon Hall. No candles.'
She did not hesitate.
Moon Hall had long been abandoned—a former tea chamber now swallowed by ivy and shadows. At the appointed time, Shen Lian slipped in alone.
He was already waiting.
"Still fond of theatrics," she said.
Third Prince Li Jingzhao smiled faintly. "And you still walk into them."
She stood across from him, moonlight casting pale patterns across their faces.
"You sent a warning. What do you want in return?" she asked.
"Information," he said. "On the Crown Prince. What he's planning. Who he's turning."
"You want spies."
"I want insurance."
Shen Lian stepped closer.
"I'll give you what you want," she said softly, "but only if you make a move first."
He narrowed his eyes. "What kind of move?"
"Leak a name. A minor one. Feed it to the wrong ear. If the Crown Prince reacts... we'll know who's listening."
He laughed. "Dangerous."
"You're used to that."
He held out his hand. "And what's your price?"
She didn't take it.
"I want distance," she said. "Between me and the next knife."
He nodded once.
Then turned and vanished into the shadows.
Zhou appeared minutes later, stepping from a side corridor.
"You trust him?"
Shen Lian watched the doorway.
"No. But I trust his ambition."