Shadows collided in chaos, fists roared, blood blossomed before their eyes, bodies slammed into tree trunks, crashing through the wild grass. Under the night moon, the battle dragged on and on, leaving only trails of blood in its wake.

“Go!”

It was not one person but two who were trapped in this running battle of slaughter. That was precisely why the fight had lasted so long — all the way until… the sounds of killing from beyond the ridge reached them.

With a crack, Yan Qing blocked a headbutt that Wu Song threw at him, and before the punch aimed at his belly could land, he wrenched himself free, then seized and locked Wu Song’s arm, dragging him forward at the same time. Wu Song braced one hand against the tree trunk ahead, and with the other tore free of the hold with sudden force, throwing a barrage of heavy punches at him. Yan Qing returned the blows in kind, while behind them, Dai Zong’s sneak attack was blocked by a broadsword swing.

Burning pain, a numbness in the skull, boiling blood — these carried the two men through their running battle. But their bodies were already covered in wounds. Wu Song’s fists were matchless in power, Dai Zong was cunning and nimble, but in terms of true martial skill, neither of the pursuing Liangshan elites chasing them was inferior — each formidable in their own right, and facing so many with only the two of them left little hope.

Not only him — behind them, Guan Sheng, wielding his blade, was likewise covered in wounds. A hook-rope had caught onto his body; though he had cut it free with his blade, the hook had already sunk into his flesh. He bore several sword wounds on his body, yet still swung his blade with fearsome valor, each strike clearing a space so the two of them could maneuver.

Yan Qing had never imagined that in the midst of such a siege, the one who would suddenly roar and draw his blade to help him break free would be Guan Sheng. He might not have been the mole that Ning Liheng had turned, but before Dulong Ridge, when Ning Yi had set a trap for him, Yan Qing had gone along with it. For a man like Guan Sheng, who cared deeply about reputation, that had been a tremendous insult, so much so that afterward he had remained resolute in opposing Ning Yi and had followed the Liangshan men in their flight.

That attempted turning had only strengthened his resolve to stand with the Liangshan men. This time, in the raid on Zhanjia Hollow, Song Jiang and the others had brought him along precisely because it had been Yan Qing who had wronged him before — hoping to win his heart back through this. But neither Yan Qing nor Wu Song, Dai Zong, or Chai Jin had ever expected that the moment Yan Qing made his move and the others closed in, this silent, long-bearded man would draw his blade in fury, blocking Chai Jin’s attack, even killing two of the surrounding soldiers and wounding one, all while shouting for Yan Qing to flee.

After that the two of them fled together, though it all seemed futile in the end. They had meant to give a warning, but the Liangshan men had guarded that direction so heavily that the more the two of them ran, the further they strayed from their course — sideways, backward. By the time the sounds of slaughter rose from over there, the two fleeing men were already covered in wounds, drenched in blood. Behind them, Xi Junyu, following in pursuit, laughed loudly: “No chance now! Why don’t the two of you just surrender! Guan Sheng, I nearly missed you on this pass! I should have guessed you’d already turned traitor, all of you…”

Before he could finish, Guan Sheng suddenly charged two steps toward Xi Junyu, his long blade slashing furiously, sending one soldier flying. Seeing him erupt, a soldier swung a blade at him but the others hastily pulled back. Guan Sheng swung his blade sideways again. “Petty man! Don’t measure Guan with your filthy mind! I have no ties whatsoever to that Ning Liheng! It’s only… Yan the Third spoke rightly — Guan is no longer willing to keep company with the likes of you—”

By this time Xi Junyu was already among the decision-making circle of Liangshan, with seven or eight soldiers guarding him, but seeing Guan Sheng’s ferocity, and his apparent intent to kill his way over, he could not help but take a step back. Then he sneered coldly: “Oh? Then allow me to congratulate General Guan on finding the path his heart desired! But in this world, the victor becomes king and the loser a bandit — listen, the fighting has already begun over there. What use is it for you to keep struggling!”

“Enough nonsense. If you want Guan’s life, come and take it. But you little brat of the Xi family, watch that Guan doesn’t cut you down!”

Meanwhile, Yan Qing and Wu Song, having rolled two zhang apart after trading a blow, separated and rose from a half-crouch on the ground. Guan Sheng’s chest heaved, his whole body drenched in blood, as he leaned on his green dragon blade planted in the ground; the others closed in around him, ready to charge again. Xi Junyu snorted coldly: “Don’t know when you’re beaten! Everything’s decided now, no need for more talk…”

“I did say he had ideas of his own.” A voice seemed to answer from somewhere in the crowd. Few paid it any mind; over on the ridge, the sounds of battle seemed to grow even fiercer.

Xi Junyu waved his hand. “Kill them, let’s…”

“…I did say so, didn’t I?”

Wu Song rushed forward a step, feeling something was not quite right, and paused slightly — unsure whether it was the intensity of the battle cries from over the ridge, or some whisper coming from who-knew-where. Yan Qing’s eyes flickered at the corner, his head tilting slightly. In that instant, everyone seemed to sense something, yet it felt like an illusion no one could quite confirm. The wind blew through the forest; only the leaves stirred.

…

Song Jiang and the others were drawing near the ridge, and the sounds of slaughter from over there suddenly grew thick and heavy — the earth itself seemed to tremble. Astride his horse, he glanced back for no clear reason, then looked ahead again.

“This is the final battle…”

“Only by killing him can there be peace…”

“With this kind of maneuvering and false intelligence, the court can’t possibly react in time — they wouldn’t dare take the risk…”

“It doesn’t matter if Dulong Ridge is on guard…”

“Three thousand against two thousand — we’ll kill only Ning Liheng…”

“This isn’t Dulong Ridge anymore, the terrain is open here…”

“We’ve spent so long circling and dragging them around, and finally found our chance…”

Yes, they had found their chance… He felt the sounds and the momentum suddenly seem to swell, but they were already nearing the barrier of the ridge, and with the wind, a sudden swell of noise seemed natural enough. He gave the reins a hard shake, the horse’s hooves quickening beneath him, and the group charged up the ridge. Finally, they crossed the line that had blocked their view, and firelight appeared before their eyes — Song Jiang’s smile was cast in the distant glow. The mountain wind, carrying a roaring fury, came surging in!

…

Zhanjia Hollow. The roar of battle surged, blood boiled, the earth shook. Three thousand Liangshan men, led by their chieftains, charged into the Dulong Ridge camp, colliding head-on with a force of two thousand. The fighting raged…

The light of torches and bonfires lit up that stretch of night sky. Then, across that open battlefield beneath the sky, the glow of firelight began spreading outward. On both sides of the land at Zhanjia Hollow, two more columns were advancing with torches, forming what looked like a massive wild-goose formation, closing in fiercely on the Liangshan raiding force in a pincer…

This scene, reflected in Song Jiang’s eyes atop the ridge, made everything go dark before him for a moment. Impossible — how could it have been guessed…

…

In the forest under the night moon, figures cloaked in strange garments of wild grass and leaves silently rose in the darkness — one, two… thud, someone fell from a tree, leaves scattering wildly…

Like an enormous abyss descending…

“Ah…” Xi Junyu heard that sound drawn out long, as if weighing its words carefully, then, “…surprise.”

…

…Countless images flashed through his pain-wracked mind, then came fragments of sound.

The clash of battle, the sounds of fleeing footsteps, that firelight seeming to encircle the whole world — the three thousand men of Liangshan first gathered like a whirlpool, then broke and retreated like a receding tide…

Fleeing backward, trees, a mocking moon hanging in the sky, the commotion in the forest growing louder and louder…

The slaughter spread from behind, then arrows flew — he remembered one struck his shoulder…

Then more killing, more pain…

His head still buzzed and rang; he could vaguely feel himself lying on the ground, a cold sensation. Someone shouted, “Brother Gongming…” The light flickered in waves; someone was walking about.

“Ah… caught another one…”

“I need to go wash up first…”

That voice, for some reason, struck him as utterly repugnant, and within it there was also a chill and horror that seemed to rise from deep within. Sometimes his eyes cracked open slightly, and he could see feet passing by, the hem of a long robe.

“…tsk, there must be bugs in those leaves and grass, I’m itching to death, and I don’t even dare move… I remember when I was crawling forward my hand touched something like filth, never doing that again…”

“You’ve got guts, kill me then!”

“Sure.” After a pause, a corpse was carried away. “Anyone else want the same treatment?”

The light kept changing, and his consciousness grew clearer and clearer. That person was talking to someone else, then said, “Ah, Zhang Qing the greengrocer, I know you… I recognize him.”

He struggled a little, but his hands and feet must have been bound. He forced his eyes open; someone called out, “Brother Gongming.” Ahead, the young man in a scholar’s robe was speaking with his companions nearby, his gaze sweeping across — this was the center of a simple camp; the fighting outside had probably not yet ended, but it seemed to have quieted down. He himself lay on the ground, surrounded by cages holding prisoners; several captured brothers had been bound and thrown inside, Zhu Wu among them, though the cage door had not been shut. Xi Junyu, too, had his hands bound behind his back, kneeling there in silence, his gaze blank, saying nothing — perhaps this was the only way he could cope with what lay before him.

Pat, pat.

The young man turned back this way, glanced at him, and clapped his hands. “You’re awake. Can you see me? First time meeting… oh right, a towel.”

The person before him was that Ning Liheng — though this truly was their first meeting, Song Jiang’s heart already understood as much. The man held a towel and hesitated a moment: “You’ve got something here, under your nose… hmm, let me wipe it off… it’s blood.” He wiped it once, then tossed the towel aside. In truth, Song Jiang knew there was surely more blood than just under his nose — the back of his head, having been struck, must have been covered in it too — but Ning Yi paid that no mind.

“Song Jiang’s awake. You there, is that one over there not bandaged yet? Go check…”

“This is impossible, this is impossible… you couldn’t have guessed, you couldn’t have had this many men…”

“What?” Ning Yi turned back to listen. “Men? Oh, those are men from the Wurui Camp. I had them lie in ambush on both sides of Zhanjia Hollow beforehand — not many, about three thousand on each side. So when you charged in, you weren’t facing two thousand, but eight thousand. You had three thousand, we had eight thousand…”

He said a few more words, then someone came to report news; he listened, then walked back this way, head lowered, jotting a few strokes in a small notebook, then raised his head, his gaze mild. “You must find this strange… oh right, I forgot to tell you the situation. When you charged over earlier, we flanked you and killed some — the remaining roughly two thousand are now pinned in the ravine to the west. Some of them may be thinking of climbing the mountain to escape, but… heh, forget it. We’ll launch the final assault soon, and everyone will be dead. But there’s still a bit of time, so we can chat for a while…”

Ning Yi put away the notebook, leaned against a wooden table set up in the center of the grounds, and looked this way. “Since things are about to end anyway, let’s make a summary.”

Listening to that flat tone of voice, a certain premonition rose in Song Jiang’s heart, and his heart sank completely. What he was thinking of now was, in truth, no longer confusion.

“I— I… even if it’s the crime of treason, I’ll go to the capital to stand trial, you—”

Ning Yi looked at him, his gaze calm, and made no answer. After a moment, his eyes turned toward the western side of the camp, and he began to speak. “Actually, the whole thing began like this…”

The early autumn night wind blew in, carrying a chill far colder than deep winter, sweeping across the camp. In the ravine to the west of the camp, more than two thousand men, blocked from escape, watched as a simple wooden platform was gradually erected outside the ravine, accumulating confusion and despair. Before long, this feud that had lasted for months, this source of grudges that had lingered over Liangshan for years, this force that had once had a colossal body, would all come to an end this very night.