The Fall of the House of Li

Li Wei was already awake when the rest of the manor slept. She slipped through the quiet halls like a shadow, barefoot, sleeves rolled up, her hair tied in a simple knot. The sky outside was a soft indigo. Morning light hadn't touched the courtyard stones, but the kitchen glowed with warmth.

She stirred a pot of ginger porridge with one hand and chopped scallions with the other. Her movements were quick, sure. For a noble's daughter, she had the hands of a street cook, calloused from secret mornings like this. The air hummed with the scent of smoked tofu and sesame oil, a recipe she'd tweaked from her father's old notes. Cooking was her rebellion, a way to keep him close, even six years after his death. Her father, a scholar-physician, had taught her to grind herbs, balance flavors, and read military treatises by candlelight. Those lessons were her treasure, even if the court sneered at a woman who dared to think.

"Miss Li!" Madam Yao burst in, tying her apron, her round face flushed. "What in heaven's name are you doing?"

"Saving breakfast." Li Wei smirked. "You overslept again."

"I did not!" Madam Yao huffed. She sniffed the air. "Is that smoked tofu?"

Li Wei tossed a pinch of ginger into the pot. "You're welcome." She loved these mornings, the clatter of pots, the chatter of maids, the feeling of creating something real. Noble girls were meant for poetry or fans, but Li Wei preferred knives and spices.

Madam Yao tasted the porridge and sighed. "Too good for a lady. Your mother will have my head if she catches you."

"She won't." Li Wei winked. She glanced at the other servants bustling in. Little Chun was sneaking a bun, and Old Zhang stoked the fire. "Chun, don't eat all the buns. Save some for Grandmother."

Little Chun grinned, her mouth full. "They're too good, Miss!"

Li Wei laughed, but her best friend and maid, Xiao Lan, rushed in, eyes wide. Xiao Lan was loyal but scatterbrained, always trying her best despite tripping over her own feet. "Miss! You're late for tea with Lady Li! You smell like a spice stall!"

"Better than court perfume." Li Wei teased. She handed Xiao Lan a tray of porridge, buns, and a pot of jasmine tea. "Let's not keep Grandmother waiting."

They crossed the courtyard, where the imperial compound stirred. Servants swept stone paths, their brooms soft against the ground. Guards gossiped about last night's banquet, where a lord had spilled wine on his robes, earning snickers from the maids. The Li family's pavilion, modest compared to the grand estates of the inner court, stood at the edge of the compound. It was a reminder of their fading status. Her father's medicines had once saved nobles, earning them a place here. Now, whispers of his disgrace clung like damp rot, fueled by some high official's lies.

In the eastern pavilion, Grandmother Li sat by a low table, her silver hair pinned with a jade clip. Her sharp eyes scanned a scroll of poetry. She looked up as Li Wei set down the tray. The tea's steam curled like mist.

"Cooking again?" Grandmother asked. Her voice was dry. "You're worse than your father."

"He taught me well." Li Wei poured tea and sat across from her, grinning. "Someone's got to feed you properly."

Grandmother bit into a bun. Her lips twitched. "Your mother would faint if she saw you elbow-deep in flour. She's been scheming again, you know."

Li Wei groaned and sipped her tea. "Another suitor? Let me guess. Old, dull, and rich as a gold mine?"

"Close." Grandmother's eyes gleamed. "A merchant's son from the south. Rich, but the maids swear his nose is like a turnip."

Li Wei snorted, nearly choking. "A turnip? Poor man! Has Mother scared him off yet?"

"She's trying." Grandmother smirked. "She cornered him at the spring banquet, boasting about your 'delicate beauty.' He fled before the second course. Tripped over a lantern, the maids said."

Li Wei laughed, her shoulders shaking. "Good for him. I'd rather marry a pot of soup than some turnip-nosed merchant."

Grandmother chuckled, but her gaze sobered. "Your mother's desperate, Weiwei. The court's whispering about us. They say your father was a traitor, ruined by some minister's lies. That accusation broke him. He fell ill and never recovered. A marriage could quiet the gossip, but I know you've got his stubborn heart."

The laughter died in Li Wei's throat. Her father had died six years ago, accused of treason by a powerful court official whose name she didn't know. The shame had crushed him, his health fading under the weight of lies. Those lies still tainted their family, their stipend shrinking, their status crumbling. One day, Li Wei vowed, she'd uncover the truth and clear his name.

"I'm not marrying anyone." Her voice was firm. "Not yet."

Grandmother sighed. "The court's a viper's nest. One misstep, and we're finished."

"Li Wei!" Her mother's voice sliced through the pavilion. Lady Li swept in, her silk robes stiff with gold embroidery, her face pinched. "Why are you here, smelling like a cook? You should be practicing calligraphy, not playing servant!"

Li Wei bit back a retort. "I was bringing Grandmother breakfast, Mother."

Lady Li's eyes narrowed. "You're nineteen, not a child. The court watches us. If you ruin your prospects..." She trailed off, rubbing her temples. "Clean yourself. We're expecting guests today to discuss trade."

"Guests?" Li Wei raised an eyebrow. "Another suitor?"

Her mother glared. "Mind your tongue. Go."

Li Wei stood, bowing slightly, but winked at Grandmother before leaving. Xiao Lan trailed her, muttering about baths and dresses. As they walked, Li Wei's mind drifted to her father's journals, hidden in his old study. She'd read them last night, notes on herbs, battle strategies, a poem about the stars. They were proof he'd been no traitor. She'd memorized his words: Know your enemy's heart before you strike. She'd find that enemy, whoever they were.

In her room, she was halfway through changing when Xiao Lan gasped, peering out the window. "Miss, look! Soldiers in the courtyard!"

Li Wei's heart skipped. She rushed to the window. Her breath caught. A line of black-armored soldiers stood at the gates, their spears glinting. At their center was a cloaked man, his face half-hidden by a plain black mask. His posture was like a drawn blade.

"Who's that?" Xiao Lan whispered.

"No idea." Li Wei's voice was tight. "But he's not here for tea."

They hurried to the courtyard, where Lady Li faced the masked man, her hands trembling as she held a scroll. Servants hovered, whispering. Grandmother appeared, her cane tapping the stones, her face unreadable.

"This is a mistake!" Lady Li said. Her voice cracked. "Our family has served the emperor loyally!"

The general's voice was low, steady. "The emperor's decree is final, Lady Li. Your titles, lands, and possessions are forfeit. Leave by dusk."

Li Wei's stomach dropped. Forfeit? Everything? She pushed past Xiao Lan, ignoring her mother's sharp look. "What have we done?" Her voice was louder than she meant. "You can't take our home!"

The general turned to her. His black mask was stark, hiding all but his sharp jaw and dark eyes. His gaze was heavy, unreadable. A strange chill ran through her, curiosity mixed with defiance. Why was he here himself, a general doing a task for underlings? "The emperor's will is not yours to question." His tone was flat. "Half a day. Two bags each. No more."

"Half a day?" Lady Li gasped. She swayed. "This is our home!"

"Not anymore." The general waved. The soldiers surged forward.

The courtyard erupted. Soldiers tore down silk curtains, hauled out jade vases, and emptied chests of gold-threaded robes. Servants wailed, scrambling to save what they could. Li Wei's mind raced. Their home, their name, gone. This wasn't just an emperor's whim. It felt like another move by the same court vipers who'd ruined her father.

She bolted up the wooden staircase to her father's study. Her heart pounded. The room was untouched, a shrine to the man who'd taught her about herbs, strategies, and courage. On a high shelf sat a lacquered box, carved with peonies. It held his journals, notes on medicines, tactics, and poems. They were her heart's tether.

She reached for the box. Her fingers trembled. Boots thundered behind her. "Stop!" A soldier grabbed her arm. The box slipped, crashing to the floor. Pages scattered like fallen leaves.

"No!" Li Wei screamed. She wrenched free and dropped to her knees, gathering the papers. "These are mine! They're just writings!"

"Everything's the emperor's now." The soldier sneered. He kicked the box aside.

"Leave them!" Her voice broke, raw with grief. She clutched the pages. Tears blurred her vision. "They're my father's! He died for this court! He saved lives!"

The soldier raised a hand, but a sharp voice cut through. "Enough."

The general stood in the doorway. His black mask gleamed in the dim light. Behind him was a tall officer, Feng Yu, who fumbled a stack of scrolls, nearly dropping them. He muttered an apology, earning a sharp glance from the general. Feng Yu straightened, his face red but his posture loyal. The general stepped closer. His boots were silent. "What are these papers?" His tone was softer, almost curious.

Li Wei's breath hitched. "My father's journals." Her voice shook. "He was a scholar, a physician. He served the emperor until a court official's lies ruined him. These are all I have of him. Please."

The general studied her. His gaze pierced through the black mask. Xiao Lan, who'd followed, whimpered from the corner. The soldier shifted, impatient. Why was the general here, listening to her? Most commanders would've ignored a girl's pleas. His jaw tightened, as if weighing a secret. Then he nodded. "Take the journals. Nothing else."

Relief flooded her, sharp and fleeting. The soldier muttered but backed off. Feng Yu, still holding the scrolls, tripped slightly, catching himself with a sheepish grin. Li Wei clutched the box. Her knuckles were white. "Thank you." Her voice was a whisper.

"Don't thank me." The general turned away. "Until dusk. Two bags. Hurry."

As he left, Li Wei stared at his cloaked figure. Why had he spared her journals? Was it pity, or did he know something about the lies that destroyed her father? His mask hid his face, but his eyes had held hers too long. A spark of curiosity flared in her chest. What was he hiding?

The day blurred into chaos. Li Wei and Xiao Lan raced to pack, stuffing bags with clothes, a few scrolls, and a jade comb her father had carved for her tenth birthday. Xiao Lan fumbled a shawl, nearly dropping it into a soldier's path, muttering apologies. Li Wei sighed but smiled. Her friend tried so hard. In the courtyard, servants wept as soldiers carted away heirlooms, a bronze incense burner, a painted screen, her mother's zither. Lady Li stood frozen, her face pale. Grandmother barked orders, her voice steady despite the cane trembling in her hand. Old Zhang tried to hide a small statue, but a soldier snatched it, shoving him aside.

Li Wei pulled Xiao Lan behind a pillar. "Under my bed." Her voice was a whisper. "Mother's pearls and a gold hairpin. Hide them in your bag."

Xiao Lan's eyes widened. "Miss, if they catch us..."

"They won't." Li Wei's voice was fierce. "We need them to survive. Father said to plan ahead."

Xiao Lan nodded, slipping away. Li Wei glanced at the soldiers. Her heart pounded. She'd read her father's notes on strategy: Hide your strength, strike when least expected. This was her first move. She helped Grandmother pack, folding a worn shawl her father had loved. Lady Li sat on a bench, muttering about disgrace, her hands twisting a silk handkerchief.

As the sun dipped low, the family gathered in the courtyard. Their lives were reduced to two bags each. Lady Li wept silently, clutching her shawl. Grandmother's face was stone. Her eyes burned with defiance. Xiao Lan clung to Li Wei's arm. Her bag was suspiciously heavy. The general watched from the gate. His black mask caught the twilight. Feng Yu stood beside him, scratching his neck, muttering about dusty armor. The general ignored him, his gaze fixed on Li Wei. Her chin rose. He'd spared her journals, but his stare was too intense. What did he want?

The cart creaked as they climbed aboard. The palace gates slammed shut. Li Wei gripped the lacquered box. Her father's words pressed to her chest. They had nothing, no home, no status, no future. The road ahead was dust and shadows. Lady Li's sobs mingled with the rattle of wheels. Li Wei's eyes were dry.

She glanced back at the palace. The masked general stood there, a silhouette against the fading sky. He'd given her half a day, spared her father's journals, watched her like she was a puzzle. Her pulse quickened.

"He's hiding something." Her fingers tightened on the box. "And I'll find out what."

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