Honey trap

The streets pulsated vigorously, bodies pressing shoulder to shoulder as voices rose in chaotic waves. People clawed, scrambled—desperate hands stretching, shoving, hoping to grasp even the faintest glimpse of the veiled hand.

It was as if gold had rained from the sky, and perhaps, in a way, it had. The legend of the nonexistent Yin Jin Meng had spread like wildfire, a mere whisper turned into frenzied hysteria.

Mingyao stood at the edges of the chaos, a ghost amidst the frenzy. Cloaked in the anonymity of the crowd, she watched the spectacle silently amused by the unfolding events. Mo Yan had played her part well; the false legend had taken root, and now, the city itself danced to her tune.

But while their gazes fixated on the enigma that is the veiled hands, Mingyao's focus lay somewhere else—on a single, far more chilling truth. An important announcement—one that the rest seemed to ignore.

The official declaration of the Crown Prince's death.

Her hands clenched within the folds of her sleeves.

Barely four days had passed since Mingyu's confrontation with the Fourth Prince.

Four days. That was all it had taken for them to erase Mingyu. The father who should have searched for his son, who should have torn the heavens apart for answers, had simply… declared him gone.

Did her father truly not care? Did he not even search for his heir before accepting his death as fact? An ache burned deep in her chest, but she swallowed it down. She had expected this outcome. Just not so soon.

A chill ran down her spine. The implications were clear. If the palace had any inkling she was alive, she would be summoned back immediately. If they could not find her, they would erase her. Now that her death has been publicly decreed, it would not be long before shadows came hunting for ghosts.

Staying hidden was no longer a choice; it was a necessity.

Her eyes flicked back to the seething mass before her. 

First, the Chens. Then, the throne.

Her plan was simple: undermine the bank by subtly encroaching on its unsuspecting victims. Normally, this would take at least seven days, but time was not on her side. She had only two. The veiled hand stunt was the best strategy she could come up with.

Now, all she had to do was make the masses believe. The game, after all, had to appear fair. People had to believe they were chosen at random, when in reality, Mingyao's hands moved unseen, selecting those whose debts bound them to the bank and consequently the Chens like iron chains.

The stolen ledger was the key to this.

The token stations were in place, scattered throughout the city like honey traps luring flies. People flocked toward them, driven by hunger, debt, and the illusion of hope.

Everyone fought to earn a token for the game that was to take place at night.

Farmers, beggars, shopkeepers—people who had long been abandoned by fate now clung to the illusion of salvation.

Her gaze swept over the weary faces, the hollowed cheeks, the trembling hands clutching at the chance to change their fortunes. Children peeked between skirts and ragged sleeves, their eyes wide with longing.

A bitter taste filled her mouth. She was feeding them a dream, offering them hope, knowing it would shatter before dawn. But she had no choice. If she wanted to reclaim her name, she needed the chaos. One day, she would repay them. One day, they would look upon her not as a trickster but as their salvation. For now, they were excellent cover for her schemes.

She wove through the crowd, her eyes sweeping over the many faces—until they landed on two particular figures.

Chen Xiao.

The woman beside him carried the same haughty elegance. Minyao could only make an educated guess. Judging from their interactions, she was likely a Chen as well—probably Chen Luwei.

Mingyao's steps slowed. Instinct told her to slip away. She had no time for distractions. She couldn't let Chen Xiao interfere with her supervision of the token stations. But then, an idea sprang to mind.

She adjusted her expression, she adopted a look of worry, frustration and of urgency. Her movements quickened, a woman too occupied to notice an acquaintance. She let her gaze meet Chen Xiao's for the briefest moment before snapping away, as if she had no time to spare. Then, she moved past them.

A baited hook

She didn't make it far.

A hand closed around her wrist.

"Lady Shen!" Chen Xiao's voice rang out

Mingyao stiffened. Slowly, she turned, her gaze flickering to the woman beside him before returning to Chen Xiao.

"I'm sorry, Master Chen, but I'm in a hurry. If you don't mind—" She made a show of glancing toward Chen Luwei. "—it's not polite to grab another woman while you have such a beautiful companion at your side."

Chen Xiao's grip loosened slightly. "You misunderstand. This is my sister, Chen Luwei."

Mingyao inclined her head in greeting. "A pleasure, Lady Chen. I am Shen Yueqing, a courtesan from Yin Lian Pavilion."

Chen Luwei studied her, her lips curving into a smirk. "Oh, I've heard quite a bit about you."

"I hope all good things."

Luwei chuckled. "Quite the beauty she is, gege. Silver and black hair—exotic." Her gaze swept over Mingyao like she was appraising an ornament.

Mingyao smiled, though it did not reach her eyes. "You flatter me too much, Lady Chen. You are far more beautiful."

Luwei chuckled. "Oh, I like her, gege. No wonder you do, too."

Chen Xiao cleared his throat, clearly irritated. "Lady Shen, may I ask—what happened to your hair?"

A pause. Mingyao's fingers twitched at her sides, but she merely turned away. "Master Chen, if you don't mind, I have things to do."

As Mingyao turned to leave, Chen Xiao stopped her again.

She wrenched her wrist free, stepping away.

"Wait—are you going to one of those token stations?"

She didn't answer.

"You don't have to do this," he insisted. "If you need money, I can help you."

Mingyao stopped in her tracks. Slowly, deliberately, she turned to face him. Emotions flickered across her mask—anger, frustration, disgust.

"Do you think you're better than me, Master Chen?"

Chen Xiao frowned. "What?"

"I asked," she repeated, voice sharp, "do you think you are better than me?"

"Of course not."

Luwei scoffed. "Maybe you should check your attitude before accusing my brother. He is only offering to help."

Mingyao exhaled sharply, "Of course he is. And I appreciate it. But I have my own hands and feet—I will earn my own freedom. If you don't mind."

"Lady Shen, wait—"

"Let her be, gege."Luwei interjected.

Mingyao didn't look back.

She melted into the crowd, toward the waiting masses, the long line of people waiting for their turn to try their luck.

She was unsure if Chen Xiao had fully taken the bait—but if he had—

Two birds. One stone.