The cracked charcoal pencil snapped between Han Ping’s trembling fingers, leaving a dark smudge across the rough surface of the stone table.
Outside the ruined pavilion, the yellow sulfur mist swirled in sluggish eddies, but inside the drafty hall, the tension was thick enough to choke a draft horse.
"We are boxed in, Boss Ye," Han Ping whispered, wiping grease and cold sweat from his neck with the tattered hem of his robe. "I spent the last two hours reviewing the guard rotations with my runners before the lines went dark. Zhao Feng placed four Spirit Condensation enforcers at the main bridge on Riverbend Way, and Senior Brother Bai has thirty discipline disciples patrolling the perimeter wall on Copper Kettle Road with soul scanning mirrors."
Ye Chen sat on an overturned wooden keg, h
