Night fell heavily upon the royal court of Northern Di. Under layers of flickering lanterns, the palace shimmered coldly in the dark, its glow sharp as the edge of a blade.
The thick palace gates opened with a low creak. A guard in dark robes stepped into the main hall, each footfall hushed with reverence. He knelt before the dais and spoke quietly:
"Your Grace, the envoy from Western Rong has arrived at the northern border."
Sitting upon a throne carved with dragons and wild beasts, Tuo Ba Feiyan slowly lifted her gaze. A faint smile curled her lips as she brought a cup of tea to them. Her tone was calm, almost amused.
"They finally lost their patience."
She wore a robe of violet brocade, jeweled tassels swaying gently at her sleeves. There was a majesty in her bearing, a pressure that seemed to bend the very air. She was the Emperor's aunt—but more importantly, she was the true power behind the throne.
While the Emperor lay sick and bedridden, Tuo Ba Feiyan had seized the reins of the court. Those who opposed her were either dismissed… or disappeared entirely.
"And this envoy—is he one of Murong Zhao's men?" she asked, setting her teacup down. Her gaze deepened.
"Yes," the guard replied. "He is Murong Heng, Royal Advisor of Western Rong—and a blood relative to the king. His presence surely carries Murong Zhao's full sincerity."
Tuo Ba Feiyan let out a quiet laugh.
"Sincerity? What they call sincerity is merely a scheme to use Northern Di as their pawn. Let us bleed first while they enjoy the spoils from the sidelines."
She rose, her steps slow and graceful, and moved toward a sand table in the center of the hall. Her fingers brushed over a black piece carved in Northern Di's image. Her gaze landed sharply on the borders of Great Yan.
"I," she said coolly, "have never been anyone's pawn."
With a flick of her finger, the black piece landed—not on the Yan border, but deep within Western Rong.
The guard bowed his head and said nothing.
She tapped the table softly, her voice gentle but commanding.
"Arrange the meeting. I would very much like to see what terms this so-called envoy will offer."
—
Three days later, in a secret hall beyond the palace walls, the air was thick with sandalwood incense. Candlelight shimmered across stone walls like flickering ghosts.
"Lady Tuo Ba," a voice called out smoothly. "It has been far too long. You are as radiant as ever."
Murong Heng stepped into the chamber, dressed in a robe of deep green. His smile was polite, almost reverent, but his eyes held the sharp glint of a man who came to test the waters.
Tuo Ba Feiyan returned a faint smile and gestured for him to sit. Her face, however, betrayed nothing.
"I come on behalf of His Majesty of Western Rong," Murong Heng began without preamble. "We wish to form a sincere alliance with Northern Di. Great Yan is no longer stable. Prince Xiao Zhongyan commands an army of his own, and the court is rife with internal conflict. Now is the perfect moment."
Tuo Ba Feiyan lifted her cup, gently blowing away the steam. Her tone was as soft as silk—yet every word cut with quiet precision.
"And you're certain this alliance is to Northern Di's benefit?"
"Of course." Murong Heng's smile widened. "If Northern Di joins us, Western Rong will supply grain, weapons, even elite cavalry. As Great Yan tears itself apart, we shall strike from both flanks. They won't recover."
She placed her cup down with a soft click and tapped her fingers against the table.
A slow, knowing smile curved her lips.
"You want Great Yan," she said lightly. "And what does Northern Di get?"
Murong Heng hesitated. A flicker of something unreadable passed through his eyes.
Tuo Ba Feiyan leaned forward, her voice low.
"What Northern Di desires… is not to become Western Rong's lackey. What we seek is the heart of the Central Plains."
She rose again, stepping to the sand table.
This time, she placed the black piece in the **center of Great Yan's map—**the capital.
"I seek the revival of Northern Di," she said with quiet fire, "not its submission."
"If we are to form an alliance, then it must be one of equals. Not one leads while the other follows."
Murong Heng was silent for a moment, then let out a low chuckle.
"Your Grace's ambition is… admirable," he said at last. "I shall report your terms to my king and make the necessary adjustments. Let us aim for mutual prosperity."
Tuo Ba Feiyan inclined her head slightly, lips curling with amusement.
"I'll leave that in your capable hands, Advisor."
Murong Heng stood and prepared to take his leave. But before he stepped out, he turned and looked at her—long and hard. His eyes were dark with unreadable thoughts.
After he was gone, the warmth drained from her smile.
She sat back down slowly, fingers trailing over the grain of the table. At length, she spoke again—softly.
"Shadow Guard."
From the shadows, a black figure emerged and knelt before her.
"Your Grace."
"Investigate. See if Western Rong has made any other secret moves."
Her voice was calm, but carried a chilling undertone.
"And inform our pieces. Tell them—it's time to prepare."
The shadowy figure bowed and vanished into the dark.
The chamber returned to stillness.
Only the candlelight danced, casting its wavering glow upon Tuo Ba Feiyan's flawless, icy face.
She whispered, almost to herself—
"Great Yan… will be mine, and mine alone."