Chapter 2: The Cost of Asking Questions

Researching a map that should not exist, Wei Hailong discovered, was an efficient way to make enemies.

He had been careful at first — asking oblique questions, framing his inquiries as academic interest in historical cartography. But the Imperial Archive had eyes everywhere, and within two weeks of beginning his research, he had been called into the office of Senior Archivist Cao with an expression on his face that Wei Hailong had learned to recognize as professionally friendly and actually threatening.

"You have been requesting access to restricted texts," said Archivist Cao.

"For research purposes."

"What research?"

"Historical cartography. The eastern coastline pre-dynasty."

Archivist Cao looked at him for a long time. "Some questions," he said carefully, "are dangerous. Not because the answers do not exist — but because the people who have already found those answers do not want you to find them too."

It was, Wei Hailong thought, the most useful warning he had ever been given. It was also not going to stop him.

"I appreciate the advice," he said.

"I wonder if you do," said Archivist Cao.

He was taken off the cataloging assignment that afternoon and reassigned to manuscript restoration — a quieter role, further from the restricted archives, clearly meant to limit his access. He responded by beginning to research outside working hours, using public texts and private correspondence with scholars in other cities.

The letters that came back were interesting. Three scholars had heard of the Sea of Eternity. One claimed to have a secondary source that confirmed its existence. One had no opinion but warned him, without explanation, to stop asking.

The last one did not write back. Wei Hailong later learned he had disappeared three months before he sent the letter.

He kept researching.