Di Renjie stood in the yard of the Tienlao prison, the cold mountain air biting at his skin as his eyes scanned the barren landscape. The high walls of the prison loomed around him, casting long shadows as the sun dipped lower, but he remained unmoved, as though the very stone could not cage his spirit. He had grown accustomed to the isolation, to the harsh discipline, but a restless part of him yearned for something beyond these stone walls. His mind wandered, not to escape, but to plan—to strategize. This yard, this prison, would not be the end of him. It was a means to an end. One day, his voice would be heard, even if he had to carve it into the stone of the Empire itself. Then, a movement in the corner of his eye caught his attention—something out of place, something that didn’t belong. His pulse quickened, and without a word, he shifted his stance, narrowing his eyes, intent on investigating what he had just seen.