The rain hadn’t let up by the time Liang Zhen and Lady Mei reached the edge of the market district. The thief’s trail was thin, just disturbed puddles on rooftops and the occasional clatter of dislodged tiles.

“We’ll lose them if we stay on foot,” Mei Lian said, scanning the streets.

Liang’s eyes landed on the stables of the Moon Gate Inn. The owner owed him a favor from years past, when Liang had stopped a band of drunken mercenaries from burning the place down.

Inside the dim stable, the innkeeper’s son jumped at the sight of them. “Master Liang! Lady Mei! Out in this weather?”

“We need two horses. Now,” Liang said, voice low but firm.

Within moments, they were mounted, Liang on a chestnut stallion, Mei on a black mare. The hooves splashed through the narrow streets, throwing up fans of dirty water.

Above, shadows darted between roofs. The masked thief was agile, leaping from beam to beam. Liang spurred his horse, keeping pace on the ground. The Moonshadow glinted faintly in the thief’s grip, like the moon itself mocking him.

“Why not take them down now?” Mei asked, keeping her eyes locked on the figure.

“Too many alleys, too many escape routes,” Liang replied. “We force them into open ground.”

The chase led them out of the market and into the old quarter, where the streets widened. Here, centuries-old houses leaned toward each other like gossips sharing secrets.

Suddenly, the thief dropped from the rooftops, landing in the middle of the street ahead. A dozen cloaked figures emerged from the shadows, blocking the path.

Mei reined her horse hard. “An ambush.”

The leader stepped forward, removing their hood, a tall man with a scar like a lightning strike down his cheek. “Liang Zhen,” he said, voice deep and smooth. “Moonshadow belongs to the Hanxia underground now. Walk away, and you keep your life.”

Liang dismounted slowly, his boots splashing into a puddle. “I’ve walked away from many things,” he said, drawing his sword, “but never from my duty.”

The street erupted into motion. Swords flashed, boots pounded, the rain became a curtain of chaos. Liang moved like water, fluid, unstoppable, cutting through two attackers before they even registered his blade.

Mei’s mare reared, hooves striking, as she cut down a man aiming for Liang’s back. The thief with the Moonshadow stayed at the edge of the fight, watching. Calculating.

Then, as quickly as the ambush began, the masked figure vaulted to a nearby rooftop and was gone.

Liang slashed through the last opponent, chest heaving. He looked up at the dark roofline. “They’re toying with us,” he muttered.

Mei sheathed her sword. “Then we stop playing.”

Somewhere in the distance, the faint toll of a midnight bell echoed. It was a warning, and a promise. The hunt was just beginning.