Chapter 64 – Turmoil in the Streets

Dawn broke with an odd stillness over the capital's backstreets. No sunrise horns, no bustling merchant cries—only a grim quiet as conscription squads combed district after district. Lan Zhuoran, Yin Feiyan, and Gao Tianrong roused themselves in the modest inn room, exchanging weary glances. By nightfall, they had to return to the Jade Hall's eastern courtyard. Until then, they'd lay low.

They descended the inn's creaking stairs. The proprietor eyed them warily, but accepted a few coins for another day's lodging. Outside, a dull drizzle smudged the streets. Patrols marched past in sullen ranks, their armor bearing new scratches from recent skirmishes. Civilians huddled under eaves, frightened or resigned.

Gao Tianrong guided them to a side alley, scanning for watchers. "We can't roam aimlessly. Let's buy any supplies we might need before tonight—torches, bandages, maybe a small bribe if needed."

Feiyan nodded, cloak pulled tight. The relic still weighed heavy, but a day's worth of relative calm had steadied her. "Agreed. Then we'll return to the inn, rest. At midnight, we slip back to meet Hui."

Lan Zhuoran led them through quieter lanes, ignoring the main thoroughfares crowded with conscript gatherings. At a humble apothecary stall, they purchased fresh bandages for Feiyan's arm, wincing at the steep price. War and chaos drove up costs everywhere. The apothecary's weary eyes flicked to Feiyan's injury but said nothing, taking their coin with a resigned shrug.

Next, they found a vendor selling cheap torches and lamp oil. The drizzle threatened to soak everything, but Gao Tianrong wrapped the torches in oilskin. "We can't risk entering Jade Hall's underbelly blind if we must slip out a hidden route," he reasoned.

As they walked, rumors eddied around them like smoke: Warlords massing on the city's western outskirts, mercenaries looting abandoned estates, council members clashing in heated votes, conscription forcibly dragging able-bodied youths to man the walls. Feiyan's heart sank, recalling Baihe Village's quiet fields. So much destruction—and for what? she wondered.

By late afternoon, they slipped back to the inn, arms laden with minimal supplies. The drizzle continued, painting the city's rooftops in a slick sheen. In the cramped room, they set items aside. Feiyan carefully rewrapped her arm with the new bandages, each movement a reminder of the fights she'd survived. Lan Zhuoran offered a supportive hand, the two sharing a fleeting, hopeful smile.

Evening fell, the drizzle turning to steady rain. Anxiety built as the appointed hour neared. Gao Tianrong checked his bowstring once more, glancing at the battered clock on the wall. "We should leave soon, account for the distance and any patrol stops."

Lan Zhuoran gently helped Feiyan don her cloak, ensuring the relic remained concealed. "We'll move in shadows, avoid main roads. Let's hope Councilor Hui kept his word—and that no rival ministers discovered his plan."

They paid the innkeeper, ignoring his wary stare. Stepping into the rain-swept streets, the trio navigated the labyrinth of alleys, passing shuttered shops and flickering lanterns. Thunder rumbled distantly—whether from approaching storms or war drums near the city walls, none could tell.

Eventually, they reached the Jade Hall's outer precincts, where columns and half-collapsed archways led to the same courtyard they'd used before. The hour approached midnight. Soldiers in the distance patrolled bigger gates, but this corner lay mostly abandoned, the drizzle perhaps deterring them.

Lan Zhuoran clutched the small jade token Councilor Hui had given them. Feiyan kept her staff close, cloak damp from the rain. Gao Tianrong's keen eyes roamed the darkness, searching for any watchers. At last, they spotted a lone figure standing near a half-ruined pillar—likely Hui's promised guard.

Approaching, they offered the jade token. The figure, a woman in plain guard attire, bowed slightly. "Councilor Hui awaits you inside. Follow me quickly—be silent." She pushed open a discreet door in the wall, revealing a damp corridor beyond. Torchlight flickered from within.

Tension coiled. The trio slipped inside, hearts pounding. The guard shut the door behind them, guiding them down a narrow hall that reeked of old stone. Feiyan's chest constricted with each step—this was it. If Hui's allies prove genuine, the relic might be safe. If not…

No conversation passed as they wound through torchlit corridors. Eventually, the guard motioned them into a small side chamber. "Wait here. Councilor Hui will come," she whispered, then disappeared into the gloom. Only the drip of water and the distant hum of voices broke the silence.

Gao Tianrong exhaled, shoulders tense. Lan Zhuoran rubbed Feiyan's shoulder gently. "Steady. We trust Hui, remember?"

She nodded, ignoring her racing pulse. Time dripped by in excruciating slowness. Then footsteps echoed—a single set, calm yet urgent. Hui appeared, lantern in hand. He looked pale, eyes darting as though checking for spies.

"This way," he murmured, gesturing for them to follow. "We'll speak in a secure office where a few trusted ministers can gather unseen." He glanced at Feiyan. "How's your arm? You up for a short climb?"

Feiyan mustered a faint smile. "I'll manage."

They pressed on, ascending a flight of worn stairs. Hui's lantern flickered on ancient murals depicting emperors of ages past—now overshadowed by looming war. The corridor stretched ahead, each step resounding with the possibility of betrayal or salvation. Feiyan steadied her ragged breaths. We're close. Stay strong.

At last, Hui paused before a double door with minimal ornamentation. Beyond, a hush reigned. "We'll meet inside," he said softly. "Just—be ready. Some of my allies might question everything you say. But if they see the relic, they'll understand."

Lan Zhuoran nodded. Gao Tianrong set his bow aside to appear less threatening. Feiyan clutched the relic beneath her cloak, heart hammering. Hui pushed open the doors. The trio stepped over the threshold, the next chapter of their precarious mission unfolding under flickering lanterns, each footstep drawing them closer to a council that might embrace them—or turn them in.