"Any luck yet?" Ling Qi asked, turning back to Meng Dan. He had fallen back into a chair at some point, with Yinhui perched on its arm. The book lay open in his lap and a pile of densely written notes had begun to pile up beside his chair.
"I have begun to gain a picture of events," Meng Dan said with some satisfaction. "The minor civil strife which ended the High King's rule, the passing of his grandchildren into the care of other tribes…. I have traced a few generations, they seem to have been on the winning side of the mason's war at least. Sign's seem to indicate that their blood concentrated in the southwest. There may be some connection to the fallen Li."
"Is that bad?" Ling Qi asked. "That's still the dead end problem again."
"Ah, but both my family and the Diao adopted refugees from that clan when absorbing their lands," Meng Dan said cheerfully. "Not to mention intermarriages. If I am correct, our argument remains solid."