14: Tremors at the Border · Shadows Beneath the Surface

Several months later, on a night heavy with darkness, the sky was black as ink, and stars flickered faintly like dying embers.

On the imperial road, the steady rhythm of hooves echoed through the silence. A small group of riders galloped swiftly, churning up clouds of yellow dust in their wake.

Zhang Zexiang pulled on the reins, bringing his horse to a halt. His gaze settled on the distant town ahead. The lights glowed, but not with warmth—they shimmered with an eerie stillness, quiet in a way that prickled at his instincts.

This inspection tour had taken him across several provinces. He had reviewed local taxes, grain warehouses, and public works. Yet everywhere he went, something felt… off.

In recent days, the markets bustled on the surface, but an invisible tension hung thick in the air. Merchants came and went in unusually high numbers. Grain shops were thriving—but not in any normal way. Prices had surged. Certain families were purchasing massive amounts of rice and grain in the dead of night, with no concern for cost. Even nearby counties reported being stripped bare of their reserves.

Worse still—blacksmiths and weapon forges had seen a strange boom. Iron tools meant for farming were being bought in bulk—but not for plows or sickles. These were spearheads, blade blanks, weapon stock. And most of the trades were never entered into the official ledgers.

Zhang Zexiang narrowed his eyes.

"Something is moving at the border," he thought grimly.

As darkness settled deeper, their group reached a courier town. Zhang instructed his guards to rest for the night, while he slipped quietly into a local inn and chose a discreet corner to sit.

The tavern bustled with noise—travelers, merchants, and locals all swapping stories over tea and wine. Zhang sat still, lifting his teacup, quietly listening.

"You hear the latest? Grain prices are through the roof!" one man said. "The rice shop owner said some rich families are buying up everything in sight—spending silver like water! Even the next county over is running out!"

"That's not all," another lowered his voice, "the blacksmith next door told me someone placed a massive order for iron goods—not farming tools, mind you, but raw spearheads and blade blanks. And not just a few—whole batches!"

Grain and weapons…

Someone nearby muttered something speculative but dared not say it aloud. A sigh followed.

"…I fear this year won't be peaceful."

Zhang's fingers traced the rim of his teacup. His expression did not change—but a cold glint flashed through his eyes.

Everything he had seen over the past few weeks, everything he had overheard tonight—confirmed his suspicions.

The border was stirring.

This could not be delayed.

He drained his tea in silence and rose to leave. Returning to his room, he stood for a long while by the window, watching the lamps of the street below flicker and fade into sleep.

By dawn, his decision was made.

Without ceremony, Zhang Zexiang and his men left the town and rode hard toward the capital.

Upon reaching the city, he wasted no time. He headed straight for the prince's residence to request an urgent audience.

—

In the prince's study, Xiao Zhengyu sat calmly at his desk, reading the latest classified reports.

When he heard Zhang had arrived, he lifted his gaze and gave the signal for him to enter.

"Your Highness," Zhang bowed deeply, his voice steady yet edged with urgency. "There are signs of disturbance at the border. Grain and weapons are being purchased en masse. Ironware is disappearing from markets, and many trades are unrecorded by local officials. I've tracked the trend for several days—grain prices are rising beyond reason, and border towns are forging weapons through the night."

Xiao Zhengyu closed the scroll in his hands, his eyes dark and sharp.

"Have you found who's behind it?"

Zhang shook his head. "No solid evidence yet. But the movements are organized. This isn't the work of merchants—it's coordinated. It must involve a hidden force."

Xiao Zhengyu nodded slightly, his expression grave.

"Western Rong and Northern Di have long coveted our lands. This smells of their doing."

Zhang's brows furrowed. "If the border shifts, it may be no small matter."

"We must not act rashly," Xiao Zhengyu said coldly, fingers tapping the table. "Investigate in secret. If there truly is a leak in military resources, we must strike preemptively."

"I understand. I'll send men to investigate further—quietly," Zhang replied.

Xiao Zhengyu nodded again, his gaze distant, calculating. "Until we have clarity, this must remain silent."

Zhang hesitated, then lowered his voice further. "There is one more thing…"

Xiao Zhengyu met his eyes, signaling him to continue.

"The border movement should have triggered a military response. But Prince Xiao Zhongyan, stationed at the frontier, has made no report. No patrols. No investigation. Nothing."

At that, Xiao Zhengyu's hand stilled. His gaze turned cold, thoughtful.

"…That is interesting."

Zhang spoke with care, but there was weight in his words.

"These signs are not normal. Either someone is deliberately concealing the truth… or they are part of something deeper."

"If he truly holds back his forces," Xiao Zhengyu murmured, his voice like ice, "then he likely knows exactly what is happening—and chooses silence."

"This cannot be ignored."

The candlelight flickered. The study was still, thick with tension.

The unrest at the borders was no longer merely a foreign threat—it might also be a fracture within.

And this game… was only just beginning.