Chapter 59 – Secrets Below the City

Dawn arrived with a subtle chill, autumn's breath drifting through the capital's cramped alleys. The Golden Leaf Retreat stirred around them—nervous patrons discussing forced conscription, traders debating whether to flee the city. Lan Zhuoran, Yin Feiyan, and Gao Tianrong gathered in their cramped room, steeling themselves for a pivotal decision.

Feiyan's voice trembled slightly as she spoke. "Forged credentials might fail at the gates—too many soldiers, too many checks. The aqueduct tunnels… might at least give us surprise."

Lan Zhuoran nodded, recalling the scholar's warning about vagrants or worse lurking below. "Risky. But if it leads us under the Jade Hall, we bypass the front defenses."

Gao Tianrong tightened his bowstring. "Then we do it. We'll gather supplies—torches, rope, something to keep Feiyan's arm safe if we have to climb. Then we find an entrance to these tunnels."

They paid their bill at the teahouse, discreetly ignoring the attendant's suspicious glances. On the way out, they purchased torches, a coil of rope, and meager rations from nearby street vendors. The city felt tenser than ever—streets patrolled by armor-clad soldiers, conscription squads dragging reluctant recruits toward assembly points. The trio skirted the edges, heads lowered, mindful not to draw attention.

From fragments of rumor, they gleaned an old aqueduct entrance beneath a collapsed bathhouse near the southern quarter. By midday, they reached the site: a half-demolished structure with crumbling columns and faded mosaic tiles. Soldiers rarely patrolled this ruin, presumably unimportant compared to the Jade Hall or active garrisons.

Gao Tianrong took point, bow in hand, checking for squatters or thieves. Feiyan and Lan Zhuoran followed, carefully stepping around rubble and fallen beams. Dim light filtered through shattered domes, revealing a once-grand bathhouse in disrepair.

Near the rear, a gaping hole in the tiled floor opened into darkness. A faint draft of musty air rose from below, along with a trickle of foul-smelling water. Lan Zhuoran wrinkled his nose. "This must be the tunnel."

Feiyan swallowed. "Let's hope it really connects to the city's aqueduct system." She clutched her staff, mindful of her arm. If they descended into a dead end, precious time would be lost—time the Syndicate or warlords might use to tighten their grip.

Gao Tianrong lit a torch, the flickering glow revealing a steep, narrow shaft. "We'll go slowly. One misstep, and we could break a limb or worse."

Tying rope to a sturdy column, they lowered themselves one by one into the hole, careful not to aggravate Feiyan's injury. The torchlight revealed slick stones, trickling water, and an arched passage curving downward. The air felt clammy, stale with the scent of decay.

Feet squelched as they ventured deeper. A labyrinth of damp corridors branched off, some blocked by collapsed masonry. Feiyan's breath hitched each time she tested her weight on the splinted arm, but Lan Zhuoran steadied her. Gao Tianrong pressed ahead, torch revealing scurrying rats and dripping algae-covered walls.

Time blurred in the subterranean murk. They navigated by guessing which passages angled toward the city center, guided by a faint sense of slope and occasional engineering markers carved into the stone. Now and then, they glimpsed rotten doorways, collapsed side channels, or evidence of squatters—discarded rags, old fire pits. But aside from rats and a few distant scuttling noises, they encountered no one.

After what felt like hours, they reached a larger chamber where multiple tunnels converged. Water pooled underfoot, swirling around broken pillars. A faint breeze suggested a higher exit ahead. Gao Tianrong paused, lips set in concentration. "We must be near the city's deeper foundations. If we keep climbing, we might find an exit under the Jade Hall or its grounds."

Feiyan steadied her breathing. "Then let's do it. Carefully."

They climbed an incline of slippery stone steps, torchlight dancing on the vaulted ceiling. Echoes of dripping water created an eerie symphony. At times, the passage narrowed, forcing them to squeeze through with the mule trailing anxiously behind. Lan Zhuoran patted the beast's flank, murmuring reassurance.

Eventually, they spotted a sealed grate overhead, iron bars rusted from centuries of damp. Gao Tianrong tested it—it gave slightly, corroded hinges squeaking. Beyond, a faint glow suggested torchlight or possibly daylight from some chamber above.

Feiyan's heart pounded. This could be their entrance into the Jade Hall's sublevels—or just another block of the city. Lan Zhuoran stifled a groan as he pushed the grate with Gao's help. Metal groaned in protest, then snapped free with a clang. Dust showered them, causing Feiyan to stifle a cough.

Torch raised, Gao Tianrong peered into the opening—a small storage room with ancient stone pillars, crates scattered around. No immediate guards or voices. Carefully, they hoisted themselves up, Feiyan wincing with each pull. The mule proved a challenge, but with rope and gentle coaxing, they got it through.

Inside, the air felt less stagnant. A corridor extended beyond the storage room, steps leading upward. Faint torchlight flickered from around a corner. Lan Zhuoran's pulse quickened. They might be inside the Jade Hall complex or an adjacent structure. Either way, infiltration had begun.

"Quiet now," Gao Tianrong whispered, snuffing their torch. Feiyan clutched the relic, staff leaning against her shoulder. Lan Zhuoran slipped ahead, staff at the ready. They edged down the corridor, listening for footsteps or guard patrols.

Just then, distant voices echoed off the stone walls—refined tones, discussing urgent matters. Feiyan's eyes flicked to Lan Zhuoran. Could it be the council? Ministers debating war or strategy? If so, they were close—so close to delivering the relic to someone who could protect it from all factions.

But danger shadowed every step. If discovered, they'd be labeled trespassers or spies. Heart hammering, Feiyan reminded herself: We're doing this for the empire. For everyone we've seen suffer. She tightened her grip on the relic's edge, forging onward into the labyrinth of echoing corridors, each moment a step closer to fate.