Night fell across the central plains, cloaking the valleys in a canopy of diamond stars and the twin silver crescents of the climbing moons.
Perched upon a calm forested hill overlooking the junction of the riverways stood the Central Commerce Pavilion.
For ages, royal banking syndicates and ruthless merchant guilds had operated from fortified stone vaults, hoarding gold, spirit stones, and silver bullion while manipulating grain prices to trigger artificial famines. Mortal families had been forced to mortgage their old family lands, their harvests, and their unborn children into multi-generational debt-slavery simply to buy sacks of coarse millet.
Tonight, the Central Commerce Pavilion was bathed in the warm, inviting glow of beeswax lanterns.
Wide cedar verandas stood open to the summer night, perfumed by blooming night-jasmine and cooling river breezes. Inside the high-ceilinged hall, thirty senior accountants—reputable mortal scholars in clean linen robes working alongside sharp-eyed squirrel beastfolk and bespectacled badger clerks—were seated at low sandalwood desks, their abacuses clacking with smooth, rhythmic speed.
At the head of the central hall, High judge Lu Feng stood beside a massive drafting table covered in polished river-jade ledgers.
The former master of the Hundred Treasures Pavilion had aged with dignified grace. His hair had turned a distinguished silver at the temples. But his eyes were sharper than ever. The cedar sliding doors parted and Su Ling’er glided into the hall. Then, Lu Feng set down his vermilion brush and bowed with deep respect.
