The Price of Silence

The night was thick with mist, curling around the palace walls like a living thing.

Ling Xuefeng moved soundlessly through the shadowed corridors, her steps measured, deliberate. Tonight was not a night for hesitation. Tonight, someone would die.

The lacquered box of poisons was hidden within the folds of her robe, nestled close to her body like a second heartbeat. Each vial, each powdered sachet, was a promise—an oath written in the language of death.

She had already made her choice. Emperor's Mercy.

The Chancellor would not live to see the next sunrise.

A Court of Secrets

Chancellor Wei Rong had been the Emperor's most trusted advisor for over two decades, but trust was a fragile thing in the imperial court. It was no secret that the old man had grown too ambitious, whispering words of treason in the ears of the wrong people.

He had overstepped his place, and now the empire had decided his fate.

Xuefeng merely carried out the sentence.

She arrived at his study just as the last candle flickered in the darkness. The room was empty, save for the faint scent of ink and aged parchment.

Perfect.

Moving swiftly, she reached for the porcelain teapot resting on a carved wooden tray. Emperor's Mercy was odorless, tasteless, dissolving into liquid like it had never existed. One drop was enough to kill. Three would ensure there was no chance of survival.

She uncorked the vial and let the poison slide into the tea, watching as it disappeared without a trace.

The Chancellor's habits were predictable. He would return soon, exhausted from the late-night council meeting, and pour himself a cup without a second thought.

By dawn, his body would be cold. The physicians would blame the fever that had already been plaguing him for days. A natural death, quick and merciful.

She stepped back, surveying her work.

No evidence. No suspicion.

But just as she turned to leave, a voice cut through the silence.

"I was wondering when you would come."

The Predator and the Prey

Xuefeng did not flinch. Her heartbeat remained steady.

Chancellor Wei Rong stood in the doorway, his gaze sharp despite his age. He was dressed in midnight-blue robes, his silver hair neatly tied, a jade seal hanging from his belt.

For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them crackled with unspoken understanding.

"I underestimated you," Xuefeng admitted finally. It was not often that someone saw her coming.

The old man smiled, but there was no warmth in it. "You are not the first to try, child. But tell me, do you truly believe I drink from my own teapot?"

Xuefeng tilted her head slightly.

"Caution is a virtue," she murmured, "but fear is a weakness."

The Chancellor chuckled. "And yet here we are, standing in the same room, knowing that one of us will not leave alive."

She did not answer. Words were wasted on the dying.

Instead, her fingers flicked, and in an instant, a fine dust filled the air between them. Silent Weeping.

The Chancellor barely had time to react. He stumbled, his body convulsing as the poison entered his lungs. His vision blurred, his thoughts fracturing like broken glass.

"Y-you…" His voice was hoarse, his balance unsteady as he reached for the doorframe.

Xuefeng stepped closer, watching the light in his eyes flicker like a candle in the wind.

"You already lost the moment you let me get this close," she whispered.

Wei Rong's knees buckled. His breath came in ragged gasps. His body was failing him, but his mind… his mind was already unraveling.

Xuefeng crouched beside him, her voice soft, almost pitying.

"Silent Weeping," she explained. "A slow, creeping poison. Your body will fail, but your mind will fail first. You won't remember where you are. You won't remember your own name."

The old man shuddered. His lips parted, but no words came. Only silence.

"You should have drank the tea," she murmured. "It would have been kinder."

And then, without another word, she rose to her feet and disappeared into the night, leaving only a dying whisper in her wake.