It had been raining for two weeks straight, but the skies today were clear and blue as far as the eye could see.

The ground was still hopelessly muddy, but at least there was hope that the much-anticipated festival would be free from rain. Yua stepped around puddles of water that looked almost like mud pits and twirled her umbrella idly in one hand. She had little use for it now, though the morning had been cloudy enough that she had thought to take it with her. It would be nice if she could shrink any object, like this umbrella, at will, but alas, only her prized imperial heirloom, the polearm Ruyi Jingu, could change shapes in accordance with her desires. Now it was the size of a finger and hung around her neck on a chain, under her outer robes: hidden enough to be obscured, yet easily accessible at a moment's notice.

Ruyi Jingu had been passed down through her family since its creation thousands of years ago, before the Einayi clan ever rose to power. They had always been a martial clan, whose prowess on the battlefield was well-known. The polearm could only be wielded by those with Einayi blood in their veins. As the last survivor of that horrid massacre fifteen years ago, the responsibility of safeguarding Ruyi Jingu and restoring the glory of her family fell to her. There was no one else in the world right now who could wield the ancient weapon.

The thought was a little lonely. Not that she would ever say it aloud—not when everyone who remained to support her had given so much more. It was her duty, her honour, her destiny to live up to the expectations of the people who still believed in the legacy of the Einayi and that age-old prophecy.

It was early enough that the streets were nearly empty save for a few fishermen and vendors getting ready for the day. At this hour, the sun cast a cool glow across the city, and the smell of dew mingled with the sweet after-scent of rain. The air felt fresh and crisp, unlike the hot, stifling humidity that would settle over the land soon enough.

As she approached the town square, however, the sleepy morning calm gave way to a pompous, expectant voice, "—do not play the fool, wench! The conscription edict clearly called for an honourable representative from each family."

A balding man, whose finely made government uniform could not disguise his beer belly, was haranguing two girls in the roughspun hemp robes common for peasants. The girls looked a few years younger than she was, and resembled each other closely in appearance.

Walk away, she could practically hear her advisors chanting in her mind. Do not engage. If the state learned that an imperial heir was alive and well, they would spare no expense hunting her down. She knew what they had done to the rest of her family, was well-versed in the history of blood. Should she be exposed before the plans of the loyalists were ready, everything would be for naught. It was impossible to save every individual crushed under the regime like this; the only way forward was overthrowing the murderous traitors at the top. And for that to happen, she could not risk herself needlessly. As soon as she drew too much attention to herself, further investigations into her background would arise—investigations that, sooner or later, might unearth the truth of her identity.

It was safer to live among the common folk, unseen.

"We beg your forgiveness, but our eldest brother served the emperor's armies and gave up his life in battle," the taller one said, bowing so low that her dark fringe brushed the muddy ground. The smaller one bowed too, but when her face was hidden, she scowled. "We have no other brothers, mister—"

"Sir!" The government official corrected with a scoff. "You peasants have manners as piss-poor as you are, eh?"

"Your worthless servants humbly beg for forgiveness," the smaller girl seethed through clenched teeth, making a face more appropriate for a wolf snarling than a sheep bowing in apology.

"Is the edict not clear?" The government official scratched at the patchy stubble on his chin and shook his inscribed plaque at them. "One of you ought to join the women's division. Or at least carry messages and supplies for the brave warriors at the front. But..." He grinned, showing crooked teeth. "...I'd be willing to overlook this for a handful of coppers. I'm feeling rather generous today."

The smaller girl stiffened, then slowly straightened. "I will enlist."

"What?" Her sister jerked upright, shaking her head frantically. "No! I will. You should stay with Mother."

"But—"

"Then you both have the honour of serving." The official made a grab for them, but Yua blocked his way with her umbrella. She had seen enough. This was not the first time she'd gone against the counsel of her advisors, after all.

"Five coppers, you said?" With her free hand, she reached for the coin purse tucked inside her robes and weighed it in her palm. His eyes followed the movement, then roamed over her clothing: plain but well-made, with flowing sleeves and long skirts no peasant would wear. Too impractical for long days spent working in the fields. She looked like the daughter of a petty noble or moderately well-off merchant, which was exactly what she intended.

The man changed his approach. "And what's a pretty young miss doing, wandering around so early in the morning? Might be dangerous for a fine lady like you—it's already plenty unsafe on the roads these days, with evil spirits running rampant in the forests, and even more bandits hiding in the shadows. Best to avoid attracting trouble." He leered, leaning closer.

"Surely there is a way we can all walk away from this without issue," Yua replied smoothly, not backing down. She held out five shining copper coins, ignoring the foul breath wafting against her cheek. "For your troubles."

"I did ask for five," the official began, "but for you, little lady, it'll be five silver ingots. Nothing less."

Perhaps she should have expected this. Five silver ingots was certainly much more than most petty nobles or merchants could afford to part with on a whim. It was not impossible if one scrimped and saved, but still cruel and unfair. Five silver ingots to a petty noble was what five coppers were to a peasant.

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There were wealthy clans supporting her cause and providing financial backing for her operations. This would hardly be a dent in her own funds. But she would loathe to see this vile man benefit from her loyalists, and besides, there were other methods she could use.

The official took her pause as a sign of hesitation. Haughtily, he declared, "If you don't have the ingots on you, that hairpin will do." He pointed at her hair, where her single decorative hairpiece glinted. It was an elaborate thing that would surely fetch a pretty price at the market: gold, with pearls and white jade set along the edges in a design reminiscent of flowers and leaves. It was the only memento she had from her mother.

Yua kept her smile, even as she felt her eyes turn stony. "Sir, what is your division number? I would like to request an inspection from the head of your bureau."

"She can do that?" she heard one of the sisters murmur with something like excitement in her voice. The other responded with a sharp shush.

"My superiors are far too busy to deal with such a minor matter," the official said, but he was visibly beginning to sweat. Certainly, he had taken advantage of many citizens here. "In fact, I ought to bring you in for questioning, wasting the time of an esteemed officer like me."

"I believe you will find that the Chief Inspector would be very interested in how a simple clerk has the authority to accept bonuses without paying the extra income tax needed, especially given recent discussions with the Magistrate regarding the president's new tax policy," Yua replied lightly.

The man's face turned red. With a curse, he lunged at her, spittle flying. She dodged easily and swatted him with her umbrella. It was made of bamboo and wax paper and packed no heavy punch, but when collapsed, it was something of a staff.

He staggered backwards, tripped on a stone, and landed flat on his backside. Yua regarded him cooly, even as she thought frantically about what to do next. She could subdue him as easily as she would a child, but the presence of a man grown kicking and screaming in the middle of the town square was certain to draw the attention of other officials. And what then? She couldn't hide him indefinitely, nor did she want to cough out the ingots after all this.

She saw the lanky young man before the official did. Dressed in embroidered brocade robes that were improperly tied and wine-stained, he winked at a shopkeep, then sauntered into the square; he whistled a cheerful tune as though there weren't a bumbling government official groaning in pain on the ground. His hair was cut shorter than most, with the uneven ends brushing his shoulders. His grin stretched from ear to ear and put matching dimples on his cheeks, and the colourful silk fan he waved in the air was held backward. He looked to be of an age with her, or maybe a year younger.

His gaze swept across the scene, pausing on Yua before locking on to the official, who had scrambled to his feet. "Friend, what's going on here?" The youth slung an arm around the government official, whose expression quickly shifted from rage to a smarmy, ingratiating simper as he came to the same conclusion she did.

"My lord! A man of your status shouldn't lower yourself to consorting with such lowly persons as these. These scum are defrauding me," the official complained.

The youth—presumably a younger son of an important noble; the older sons always knew to keep up appearances in public—blinked innocently at Yua. He laughed loudly, the sound echoing across the quiet square, and snapped his fan closed. "I'm sure that cannot be right. This lovely lady is a friend of mine as well. Her family is a vassal of mine, and we've shared more than a few drinks together."

"Your friend owes the state five silver ingots." The official, sensing victory, sneered.

"I'll pay her debt," the lordling agreed with a good-natured shrug. He patted the official's shoulder, almost conspiratorially, and added, "I'll throw in an extra ingot for your troubles, good sir."

The official's eyes shone. "Magnanimous of you, my lord!"

The youth made a show of puffing up proudly, like a peacock displaying its feathers. He dug through his sleeves and produced a note, scribbled a sum, and stamped it with a seal, saying, "It is much too tiresome to carry money around everywhere. Have the treasury send someone to collect this at my estate tomorrow."

The official read the note and nodded eagerly. "Lord Hufu! Ah, yes, Magistrate Tawana's esteemed heir! Of course, only you are so kind. I will gladly take care of this personally" He bowed deeply several times in a row, and scuttled off.

Tawana Hufu was, indeed, the son of this province's magistrate. He was a drunk and careless with money. He was also thirty-four years old and currently on a tour of the southern provinces, visiting friends of his family to indulge in various entertainment.

The two girls bowed, thanked them profusely, and took their leave at least. Yua had hoped they would have snuck off during the commotion, but they were unharmed and could return safely to their mother. She turned now to the youth impersonating Tawana Hufu, finally unable to suppress her smile. "That was rather impressive, your lordship. I thank you for your help. Without your intervention, things might have gotten unpleasant."

"You honour me, my lady." The youth grinned back, straightening the wrinkles in his robes. "You had the situation under control, though I would recommend being careful to not back a wounded dog into a corner."

"Duly noted. How may I repay you?"

"Think nothing of it! My name is Yon Zato. Might I have the honour of knowing yours?"

Still smiling, Yua tilted her head. "Are you not worried about repercussions once the official realises he has been duped? What of the seal?" As a rule, she did not give her name to strangers. It was easy to use false aliases and easier still to be tangled in the web of one's own lies.

Zato waved the fan casually, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. He produced the seal once again and passed it to her. "Have a look."

The glyph carved in the wooden stamp was so worn that it was a jumped mess of lines, impossible to decipher. Rather, it was possible to decipher anything. "I won it off a drunken scribe a few months ago. The robes and fan I snatched from a laundry line while travelling."

"You're a thief," Yua concluded, half-amused and half-appalled. "A thief who doesn't know how to tie noble robes properly."

"A chivalrous vagabond, if you must." Zato tossed the fan in the air, caught it, and opened it with a flourish. He still held it backward. "The nobles won't even notice the missing items or money. There's no shortage of frivolous waste. Wouldn't you agree," he lowered his voice, "Lady Sano, newest ward of Countess Yafeng?"

That gave Yua pause. This Zato fellow had her cover story right. Countess Yafeng Suyane was one of her chief advisors, and she had been relocated to this village not four months ago. The loyalists kept her on the move all throughout her childhood, swapping names and backgrounds frequently so as to obscure any leads from the authorities. Sano was the clan name they chose this time, vassals of Suyane’s clan; working in Suyane's territory had many benefits, and the countess' personal ties to her were something she trusted.

"You're well versed," she conceded, handing the fake seal back. "Very well, if you will excuse me, Lord Thief. I ought to return before the countess misses me."

"This is farewell, then. Perhaps we'll meet again, Lady Sano. And perhaps you will tell me your personal name next time."