Cixi's private chambers, once a sanctuary of absolute control, had become a pressure cooker of paranoia and frustration. The Empress Dowager paced the length of her room, the silk of her robes whispering angrily with every sharp, agitated turn. The last few weeks had been a cascade of failures, a series of humiliating defeats that had chipped away at her authority and her composure.
Li Lianying stood before her, his head bowed, his usual smug confidence replaced by a weary desperation. He had just delivered another report filled with incompetence and dead ends.
"The investigation into Prince Gong continues, Your Majesty," he said, his voice lacking its usual conviction. "But we find nothing. His movements are conventional. His meetings are with known allies. He is clean. It is as if he is a ghost."
"He is not a ghost, he is a viper!" Cixi snapped, whirling to face him. "He strikes from the shadows and leaves no trail! First the fleet, now this… this rot within our own network."
"That is the other matter, Your Majesty," Li Lianying continued, his voice dropping. "It is… troubling. Several of our most trusted and valuable informants have gone silent. Others are providing contradictory, utterly useless information. The official we had inside the Board of War… he now provides reports on grain supplies instead of troop movements. The guard captain who reported on Prince Gong's household now only speaks of the Prince's new taste in landscape paintings. It is as if our entire network has been… poisoned. Our eyes and ears are failing us."
Cixi stared at him, her dark eyes narrowing to slits. She understood. Their intelligence apparatus, the very foundation of their power, was crumbling. Their enemies were moving with an unnatural confidence, an impossible foresight, while they were being struck deaf and blind. Every move she made was countered. Every secret she had was being used against her.
She had had enough of this game of shadows. She was tired of political maneuvering, of chasing whispers and rumors. Her enemies were operating with a speed and security that defied conventional explanation. She traced the source of her problems back to a single, infuriating point. It all began when that strange, silent guardsman appeared at the Emperor's side.
"The guard," she said, her voice a low, dangerous hiss. "Meng Ao."
Li Lianying looked up, surprised. "Majesty?"
"He is the key to all of this," she declared, her intuition seizing on the one element that defied logic. "He is not just a man. Lotus's report was not a frightened boy's fantasy; it was a warning. He is the 'ghost' who attacked your spies at the nursery. He is the 'demon' who shattered the rock. He is the source of Prince Gong's newfound courage. He is the Emperor's supernatural shield."
She stopped her pacing and looked at Li Lianying, a cold, hard light in her eyes. "With him gone, the boy emperor will be just a boy again—a sickly, frightened child. And Prince Gong, without the protection of this… monster… will lose his nerve. The faction will shatter. We must remove the piece from the board."
Li Lianying felt a chill go down his spine. He knew what she was suggesting. "He is the Emperor's personal bodyguard, sworn to protect him. He never leaves his side. An open attack is impossible."
"I am not a fool, Lianying," Cixi spat. "I am not suggesting an open attack. I am suggesting a solution."
She clapped her hands sharply. A eunuch entered, bowed, and a moment later, the boy assassin, Lotus, was brought into the room. He knelt, his face a perfect mask of quiet, respectful obedience, a mask that now concealed a deep and terrified loyalty to another master.
Cixi looked down at the boy, her creation, her living weapon. "Lotus," she said, her voice devoid of any of its earlier warmth. "Your mission to befriend the Emperor has been a failure. Your reports are useless tales of a child's boring lessons. You have a new task. A true test of your training and your loyalty to the mother who saved you from the gutter."
Her eyes were like chips of black ice. "The bodyguard, Meng Ao, must be eliminated."
Lotus's blood ran cold. He kept his head bowed, his heart hammering against his ribs. He was being ordered to kill the unstoppable demigod who haunted his every waking moment.
"You are a child of the Silent Orchid," Cixi continued, her voice relentless. "You were trained for this. You were taught that no man is invincible. You will use your skills. A poison that mimics a natural illness. A hidden blade in a quiet corridor. A staged, tragic accident. I do not care how you do it. But he must die. And it must be done without a single trace leading back to this palace."
It was a desperate, high-stakes gamble. She was ordering a ten-year-old boy to assassinate a man he had described as a demon, right under the roof of the Emperor's own residence.
Lotus felt a wave of pure terror wash over him. His training screamed at him to obey, but his memory screamed at him that the task was impossible. "But, Your Majesty…" he stammered, his voice trembling despite his best efforts. "His strength… his speed… it is not human."
Cixi's face twisted into a mask of cold contempt. "Then you will not face him with strength, you foolish boy! You will face him with cunning. Every man must sleep. Every man must eat and drink. Find his weakness. All men have one." She leaned forward, her voice a venomous whisper. "Succeed, and you will be rewarded beyond your wildest dreams. Fail… or prove yourself a coward… and I will find another child from your school who is not. And I will have them demonstrate their loyalty on you first."
The threat was absolute. Lotus was trapped. He was being commanded to carry out an assassination attempt on a man he knew was a demigod, and his life was forfeit whether he succeeded or failed.
He pressed his forehead to the floor. "This servant… understands," he whispered, his mind reeling. He knew what he had to do. He had to survive. And the only way to survive was to report this, immediately, to his true master.
He left the chamber, a condemned man walking towards his fate, unaware that he was no longer a player in Cixi's game, but a pawn in a much older, more profound one. He was a message, and he was about to be delivered.