Chapter 3: Choice in the Dark Alley

Rain fell like ink, drenching Kyoto’s ancient streets.

The sharp crack of a blade biting into wood exploded in her ears. Wood chips flew like scattered stars, stinging Xiaoxue’s eyelids. The air was thick with the rancid stench of rotting old timber, mingled with the coppery tang of blood, enough to make her stomach turn. She clenched her teeth, nails digging into the edges of the hidden compartment, her body curled tight in the cramped space.

Chiyoshi’s words—*let her go down to join the ancestors*—circled her mind like a curse. A cold shiver crawled up her spine, freezing every nerve in her body.

Oni-Men didn’t stop swinging the blade. Every stroke carried lethal intent. As the third blow was about to land, the pressure in the tiny space reached its peak. A light of pure resolve flared in Xiaoxue’s eyes. She surged forward, slamming her shoulder against the rotting wood. The panel shattered, filling the air with dust.

A short blade slid from its sheath, cold and deadly. Her move was so fast she didn’t even leave a blur; the tip was already pressed firmly against Oni-Men’s carotid artery. Blood seeped out, sliding down his cheek and staining the black mask. Oni-Men froze. The assassins in black around him stood statue-still, as if time itself had halted.

Xiaoxue stood before the broken wardrobe, her gaze locking over Oni-Men’s head directly into Chiyoshi’s vicious eyes. Rain leaked through the cracked roof, dripping onto her shoulder, icy and sharp. Her voice was steady, yet it carried an undeniable weight: “Lord Chiyoshi, you don’t have that map.”

The smirk on Chiyoshi’s face vanished. His finger tapped lightly against his scabbard—*tock, tock, tock*—slow, oppressive, as if he were tapping away at the fraying frayed nerves inside Xiaoxue’s chest. He paced slowly, each step crushing a frayed nerve of hers, the crisp crunch of his boots over broken wood echoing in the deadly silence.

He stopped three paces away, tilting his head to appraise her with disdain: “Trying to fool me? Then prove your determination. Or prove your stupidity.”

Before he finished, Chiyoshi drew his sword. The blade flashed like a white ribbon, tearing through the dim light. Xiaoxue dodged to the side; the wind pressure whipped across her cheek, the blade slicing her sleeve, cold enough to bone, sending drops of blood rolling down. She didn’t linger. She grabbed the fragment of the map from her bosom, the chill of the paper seeping through the fabric.

She crashed through the window, glass shattering in the rain, and leaped into the dark night. Ice-cold water soaked her instantly, washing away the fresh blood. She vanished into the labyrinth of alleyways. Behind her, Chiyoshi’s cold shout pierced through the rain: “Search. Dead or alive, I want that map.”

Deep in the alleys, the rain grew more violent. Muddy water mixed with the smell of blood, seeping into the damp, cold walls. Moss made her footing slippery. Xiaoxue ran, pressed against the wet stone, the sharp edges of the map fragment in her arms cutting her palms. The pain blurred her thoughts but urged her to run faster.

Her heart hammered against her ribs. Each breath tasted of blood and damp air. Ahead, a dim lantern flickered at the alley’s mouth, its yellow glow wobbling in the rain, illuminating a slender figure who was anxiously looking around.

When Xiaoxue appeared, Aya Ono’s eyes widened in shock, which she quickly masked. She hurriedly pulled in her soaked sleeves, hiding her trembling hands.

She rushed over, keeping her voice low while rain dripped from her hair: “Xiaoxue, you actually came. Quick, take this.” She handed over a forged Station Master’s wooden pass. The seal on it was clumsy, but in the darkness and rain, it would pass. The wood was rough, carrying the fresh scent of ink.

Chiyoshi’s spies were everywhere in the city, every corner watched, especially at this alley mouth near the official road. Xiaoxue took the pass. Rain ran down her face, dripping onto the wood, blurring the ink and making the characters illegible.

She grabbed Aya’s sleeve, her eyes sharp, reflecting distant fires in the rain: “I can’t hand over the map. It contains the proof of the Kitamura Family’s wrongful conviction back then. It’s my only clue.”

Aya gritted her teeth and let go, her voice urgent, shivering from the cold: “I know, but right now, you need to disappear. Or find somewhere they’re afraid to step into.”

Xiaoxue looked at the shadows closing in around them, feeling eyes watching from the dark. She shook her head, wiping rain from her face: “Only by comparing it to the newly built Star Chart Beam Framework can I verify if the map is real. And the only place to do that is the Star Hall construction site.”

Aya stared at her in shock, rain running down her eyebrows. She sighed helplessly, her voice laced with despair: “That’s Kiyoshi Ono’s turf. It’s a priority watch for Chiyoshi. Are you crazy?”

Xiaoxue didn’t answer. Instead, she quickly pulled a mud-caked rough cloth tunic from a corner—old gear dumped by laborers, smelling of sweat and dirt. She changed into the practical outfit with efficient, no-nonsense movements. She tucked the map fragment close to her heart, the cool paper pulsing with her heartbeat.

She put on a straw hat, hiding her refined features, leaving only the pale lower half of her face visible in the rain.

She followed a laborer hauling materials, slipping into the heavily guarded construction site. The muddy ground was sticky; rain mixed with lime water created a pungent smell. The site was brightly lit; massive lifting frames cast狰狞 (grotesque/feral) shadows in the night rain, looking like iron monsters baring their claws.

The roar of pile drivers sounded in the distance, vibrating the ground and Xiaoxue’s frayed nerves. She crouched low, blending in with the craftsmen. Rain wet her lashes; her hands trembled from tension and cold, but she kept her fists clenched tight.

She observed the site’s layout, mentally reciting the structure of the Star Chart Beam Framework. Every beam’s position had to align with the Star Position on the blueprints. A slight deviation meant life or death. A burst of laughter came from ahead. Kiyoshi Ono stood on a high platform, a giant construction blueprint behind him, glowing white under the lights.

He tapped the blueprint lightly, his voice clear but suffocatingly arrogant, echoing in the rain: “Ladies and gentlemen, look at the cantilever beam structure.”

He pointed to a protruding beam section, his proud innovative design, intended to break traditional architectural limits and challenge the boundaries of gravity and material.

“ This load-bearing model is the peak of human craftsmanship. Within half a moon, this Star Hall will be the new landmark for Matsudaira Trading Company.”

The craftsmen around him looked awestruck, murmuring in agreement. The sound of rain seemed to fade, leaving only the awe of authority.

Xiaoxue narrowed her eyes, looking past the crowd to the main beam being hoisted. Rain slid off the wood, dripping steadily. Alarm bells rang in her mind. The Star Position chart on the map showed this node should handle massive lateral pressure, but Kiyoshi’s design was missing a critical support component. That gap looked precarious in the wind and rain.

Kiyoshi’s gaze swept the crowd, then locked on a corner. His eyes were sharp as blades, cutting through the rain directly toward Xiaoxue. He let out a cold laugh, his voice turning icy: “Where did this stray dog come from to eavesdrop on secrets?”

The craftsmen closed in instantly. The atmosphere became suffocating, even the rain sounded heavy. Xiaoxue knew retreating was a trap; she had to gamble. She stepped out of the shadows, mud splashing at her feet. She removed the straw hat, revealing her calm, determined face. Rain slid down her hair, dripping onto her collar.

“I am a measurement apprentice, named Xiaoxue Kitamura,” she said, looking directly at Kiyoshi. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it was clear and strong, cutting through the noise.

Kiyoshi looked her up and down, a flash of contempt turning into mockery: “Kitamura? Hmph. That defamed family. Trying to make a comeback with a rag like that?”

Xiaoxue ignored the taunt and walked straight to the main beam. Rain soaked her pant legs, leaving muddy footprints with every step. She looked up, pointing to a scratch at a beam node, a tiny flaw almost invisible in the downpour: “Sir, the load calculation here is wrong.”

“According to the principles of the Star Chart Beam Framework, if you don’t add a diagonal brace here, within half a moon, under strong wind or vibration, the framework will collapse.”

Kiyoshi froze for a second, then burst into mocking laughter, which sounded particularly harsh in the rain: “Absurd. You claim to understand both architecture and Star Charts? You’re showing off where you’re out of your depth.”

Xiaoxue frowned, stopping the explanation. She pulled the tattered Star Chart Beam Framework map from her bosom. The paper was damp, edges curled, but she had protected it meticulously, keeping it spotless.

She unfolded the map, tracing the lines with her fingers, professionally reciting the flaw in the derivation: “Look here. The beam end corresponding to the Star Position ‘Tan Lang’ needs to form a closed triangle with the ‘Ju Men’ node. You ignored the cumulative effect of gravitational eccentric moment, causing stress concentration here.”

“If constructed this way, it won’t just fail to support the dome; it will collapse due to internal tearing.”

Kiyoshi’s smile froze on his face. He stared intently at the lines on the map, brow furrowed. Rain slid down his cheeks. He reached out to snatch it, but stopped abruptly when his fingers touched the edge. He feared Chiyoshi’s influence behind Xiaoxue, and feared that if this map fell into the wrong hands, his plans would be exposed. He pulled his hand back, face darkening, grinding his teeth: “Prove it to me.”

Xiaoxue sneered, rain clinging to her lips: “Prove it? Just observe the deformation of this beam in the storm.”

Kiyoshi, furious and humiliated, pointed at a massive stone in the center of the site. The stone was bound by thick ropes, the shadow beneath it deep and dark, seeming to swallow all light. He said, “You say it’s flawed? Then let it show you.”

He ordered the crew to dismantle and modify the beam framework immediately, his voice shrilling with anger: “If you can’t prove your theory before the moonlight returns, you’ll be punished for deceiving the lord.”

Xiaoxue stared at the shadow under the stone, her heart clenching as if squeezed by an invisible hand. She realized this wasn’t just a foundation stone; it was the lock-eye for the Star Chart mechanism. Once modified, it would trigger an irreversible death trap, plunging the entire area into chaos and destruction.