The trail she followed was older than the Duchy of Jiāngnán itself—an ancient salt road that once carried caravans from the high plateaus down to the rice valleys. Now it was little more than a game trail used by smugglers, monks, and people who needed to disappear. She had walked it twice before: once fleeing the fire that took her home, once returning to bury what remained of her father under the cedar that killed him.
