Gu Pingyuan opened his eyes to find himself in complete darkness. He shook his head vigorously, remembering what had just happened, and rolled over to get up. His head throbbed with pain, causing him to instinctively grasp the bedpost for support. Looking around to orient himself, he realized he was in a room but couldn’t determine where. Fortunately, faint light filtered through the cracks of the door and window. Gu Pingyuan pushed open the door with the aid of this dim light and discovered it was already completely dark outside. He staggered into the courtyard and called out hoarsely, “Someone, is anyone there?”

“Oh, master, you’re awake? Wait a moment, I’ll brew some tea and bring a wet towel for you,” responded a shop assistant who came running at the sound.

“Where am I?” Gu Pingyuan asked urgently, breathing heavily.

The assistant smiled. “Look at your question! Where else would you be? The Lianfu Inn, of course.”

“I’m still at the Beijing merchants’ inn…” Gu Pingyuan muttered to himself, then raised his head abruptly. “Go call Zhang Guangfa for me, quickly!”

“Ah, that I cannot do. Manager Zhang left with the merchant caravan early this morning. Before leaving, he paid for an extra day’s lodging, saying you were drunk. He instructed me to let you sleep well and not allow anyone to disturb you.”

Gu Pingyuan didn’t wait for him to finish before rushing out, leaving the assistant standing there bewildered.

“How strange! I already told him the room fee was paid. Why is he running away?” the assistant wondered.

Gu Pingyuan dashed out of the inn and sprinted along the road toward the Shanhaiguan Gate. As he ran, he heard the night watchman announcing the third watch. His heart sank. It was almost dawn, and the city gates had been closed for three hours already. The Beijing merchants’ caravan had surely gone far by now.

With the faintest glimmer of hope, he arrived at the gate and inquired with the night guards. As expected, the Beijing caravan had long since departed.

“Zhang Guangfa!!!” Gu Pingyuan finally exploded. He rushed to the gate and pounded furiously. “Open up! I need to find someone!” He shouted repeatedly, startling the soldiers.

The soldiers couldn’t allow such a disturbance. Once they recovered from their surprise, some covered his mouth while others tied him up, throwing him to the ground. The squad leader climbed down from the wall to investigate. After hearing the full report from his subordinates, he asked what should be done with the intruder.

This squad leader was not an unkind man. He sighed after some consideration. “Release him. Otherwise, when Commander Cao finds out in the morning, it’ll be another life lost. We’ve had enough deaths these days. Let’s do a good deed.”

He then crouched beside Gu Pingyuan, whose mouth was still gagged, and said, “Young man, if you’re not insane, blink your eyes.”

Gu Pingyuan blinked as instructed. The squad leader continued, “You’re lucky today, so I’ll let you go. But remember this: if you cause trouble again, not even the Heavenly Emperor can save you. Go home and get some sleep. Whatever urgent business you have, come back after the gates open at dawn. It’s not worth losing your life over this.”

With that, he ordered the soldiers to release Gu Pingyuan.

In his moment of desperate urgency, Gu Pingyuan gradually calmed down, recognizing that his predicament was partly due to his own carelessness. When the squad leader mentioned returning after the gates opened, he felt a bitter ache in his heart. As an exiled convict, oxen and horses could pass through Shanhaiguan, but he could not. If he were to wait until his five-year sentence was completed before going to Beijing to find Zhang Guangfa, first, he couldn’t bear such a long wait—five years would drive him mad. Second, whether Zhang Guangfa would still be working for the Beijing merchants then was uncertain. And that Li Qin had acted so convincingly, claiming to be Gu’s guarantor. Gu had just saved his life, yet he had conspired with Zhang Guangfa to set a trap. So young, yet so vicious!

Rage surged within Gu Pingyuan. He clenched his fists so tightly that his nails dug into his palms, yet he felt no pain. He wandered aimlessly back to town. When he reached the Laifu Inn, he passed by several cart drivers and overheard their conversation.

“That Boss Chang is really something. He was frantic a few days ago, and yesterday he made another foolish decision, saying he wanted to sell salt to buy fish. Going back and forth like this, isn’t he just losing money?”

Another voice replied, “Why do you care so much? We’re just hired hands, following orders. Besides, we don’t have to do anything today. A free day off—instead of worrying about that, shouldn’t you be thinking about where to drink?”

“You’re right. How about the Guangji shop at the end of the street? Should we all chip in?”

The group departed noisily. Hearing this, Gu Pingyuan realized they were talking about the Shanxi merchant Chang Si. So he hadn’t left yet. Thinking further, he suddenly understood: Chang Si’s caravan was temporarily hired, not as disciplined as the Beijing merchants. To prevent hired hands from informing on them, they would need more preparation time. The Beijing merchants, on the other hand, operated with swift efficiency, capable of disguising themselves and passing through the gate in a single day.

Gu Pingyuan stood by the street, contemplating his options, and concluded there was only one path left. He went to the back of the inn, stood on tiptoe, and peered over the low wall. Sure enough, in the backyard, Old Chang Si was keeping watch while a large, shirtless man beside him was sweating profusely as he shoveled salt into a water cart.

Fearing Old Chang Si might spot him, Gu Pingyuan quickly crouched down. After much internal debate, he finally took a deep breath, stood up, climbed over the wall, and landed on his knees with a thud.

After parting with Gu Pingyuan the previous day, Old Chang Si had returned to the inn and shared the clever plan and his encounter with Gu Pingyuan with his adopted son, Liu Heita. The father and son, unwilling to trust others, handled everything themselves. They had planned to prepare the salt water today and leave early the next morning, but now someone had suddenly climbed over the wall into their yard. Old Chang Si was so frightened he nearly had a heart attack. Liu Heita raised his iron shovel, eyes wide, positioning himself protectively in front of his father.

“It’s you? Brother Gu!” Old Chang Si recognized Gu Pingyuan immediately after recovering from his shock. He quickly told Liu Heita to put down the shovel and help Gu Pingyuan up.

However, despite their efforts to help him stand, Gu Pingyuan remained kneeling with his head bowed.

“Ah!” Old Chang Si understood the situation at a glance. In truth, he had hardly slept these past two days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Gu Pingyuan’s hopeful gaze, feeling as if he owed him an enormous debt of gratitude, which pained his heart. Now that Gu Pingyuan had come to him, Old Chang Si didn’t believe he had come to blackmail him. From his demeanor, it was clear he must have encountered an insurmountable difficulty and had nowhere else to turn.

“Brother Gu, please stand up! Stand up! You are my family’s benefactor. How can you kneel to speak? Do you want this old man to kneel to you as well?” Old Chang Si was a sentimental man. As he spoke, his eyes reddened. He called Liu Heita over, and together they helped Gu Pingyuan to his feet.

Gu Pingyuan felt conflicted. Originally, he had freely offered his plan and departed without expectation. Now he was going back on his word. This single act of kneeling had already put them in a difficult position, and he found it hard to voice his request. Thus, although he stood up, he remained silent and motionless.

Old Chang Si was an honest man, but having been in business all his life, he had encountered all types of people. He pondered briefly and understood Gu Pingyuan’s current state of mind. Not only did he understand, but even the rough Liu Heita could see that Gu Pingyuan must be facing some difficulty. Unable to contain himself, Liu blurted out, “Father, let’s take Brother Gu with us! After all, it was his plan. One plan benefiting two families—wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

“Don’t interrupt.” Old Chang Si waved him off, then turned to Gu Pingyuan with a gentle inquiry, “Brother Gu, you only told half the story that day. An escaped convict faces death if caught. Why would you risk such a grave danger?”

“I… sigh!” Gu Pingyuan found the topic emotionally complex. His affairs with Zhang Guangfa were unrelated to Old Chang Si, and he worried that revealing them might frighten the cautious old man. Fortunately, he had another reason—his original intention to escape into the inner territories—which he could share.

With a long sigh, he explained: “I lost my father at an early age, and my mother raised me alone. Five years ago, I met with great misfortune and have since had no news from home. Last month, I heard that the rebellious Hongmao Army is approaching my hometown. They say these rebels are extremely brutal, sparing neither humans nor animals in battle zones.”

Old Chang Si raised his hand. “I understand. You want to return to check on your mother.”

“Yes. I’ve heard that able-bodied men in the area have already fled with the elderly and children. My mother is aged, and my younger siblings are not yet grown. I don’t know if they can escape the bandits’ clutches. My heart is burning with anxiety, like oil in a hot pan.” As he spoke, Gu Pingyuan’s emotions overwhelmed him. The anger of being deceived, combined with the sorrow of missing his family, transformed into hot tears.

Old Chang Si felt a pang in his heart at these words. He reflected on his own life—widowed in his prime, afraid to remarry for fear of mistreating his only daughter. He had endured hardship to raise her alone, a struggle that sometimes brought tears to his eyes in the middle of the night. Empathizing, he saw that this young Gu was sincere and filial—truly a good person. Even as a convict, in these turbulent times, who could truly distinguish between guilt and innocence?

Now with his mind mostly made up, he probed further: “You mentioned blending into the caravan to enter the pass. Surely you have a foolproof plan. What might it be?”

Hearing the question, Gu Pingyuan sensed hope. Looking around to ensure no one was nearby, he lowered his voice and explained his plan in detail.

Old Chang Si nodded throughout the explanation. When Gu finished, he clapped his hands together. “Good, good, good! In that case, I will take you through the pass!”

Upon hearing this, Gu Pingyuan’s heart leaped. He had only harbored a sliver of hope but hadn’t expected the old man to be so warm-hearted and generous. Moved deeply, he knelt again: “If I can successfully pass through the gate, Uncle, you will be like a second parent to me. If unfortunately we are caught, I will say I hid in the caravan by myself and will not implicate you.”

“Stand up.” Old Chang Si helped Gu Pingyuan to his feet. Both men felt emotional. What had begun as a chance encounter had, within days, become a shared destiny—essentially tying their lives together. The vagaries of human fate were truly remarkable.

“Uncle,” Gu Pingyuan called out, but Old Chang Si waved his hand. “The young men around me all call me Old Father. You should do the same.”

Gu Pingyuan obliged, changing his form of address: “Old Father, my hiding method needs to be extremely secretive. It’s best if no one else knows.”

Old Chang Si replied, “Don’t worry about that. Secrecy is essential for success, especially in a matter where our heads are at stake. I will be careful. Only my son and I will handle this. Fortunately, it won’t take much time, and I have some carpentry skills, so it shouldn’t delay our departure tomorrow.”

Gu Pingyuan bowed again: “I’m truly grateful that you’re taking such a risk for me…”

“Say no more, say no more. Not only have you helped me tremendously, but with your filial devotion, you shouldn’t be trapped outside the pass waiting to die. But do you need to hide in this inn now?”

Gu Pingyuan shook his head. “Not yet. I came here with the quartermaster from Shangyang Fort’s military camp. Although this place isn’t as strictly managed as Shangyang Fort, if I don’t return to camp by nightfall and someone investigates, it could ruin everything. Old Father, just focus on preparing your end. I will definitely meet you at midnight.”

“Good, it’s a deal. Take care of yourself.” Old Chang Si patted Gu Pingyuan’s shoulder.

Liu Heita, who had been silent, suddenly stepped forward and said gruffly, “If it weren’t for you, our business would have failed. Once we get through the pass, I’ll kowtow to thank you on behalf of my father.”

Gu Pingyuan knew the father and son had much to prepare and didn’t linger on formalities. He bowed slightly and climbed back over the low wall. On the street, he gazed at the majestic tower gate of Shanhaiguan in the distance, took a deep breath, and thought to himself, “Life or death—it all comes down to this.” Only then did he compose himself and head toward his lodgings.

Upon returning to the “fire house,” Gu Pingyuan noticed that fellow convicts he encountered along the way were grinning at him strangely. Puzzled but without time to investigate, he went to the adjacent room, parted the door curtain to peek inside, and finding the person he was looking for, beckoned: “Lian Cai!”

Kou Liancai had been resting with his eyes closed against the wall. Hearing someone call him, he quickly opened his eyes. Seeing Gu Pingyuan, he immediately broke into a smile, jumped down from the kang bed, slipped on his shoes, and rushed to the door in a few quick steps.

“Big Brother, where did you go? Last night was extremely dangerous…” he began.

Gu Pingyuan hushed him with a “Shh!” and said, “There are people in your room. Let’s talk outside.”

Kou Liancai followed Gu Pingyuan to the birch forest behind the house. “Brother, sit here. I have something to tell you,” Gu Pingyuan said, pointing to a tree stump.

Kou Liancai sat in a half-crouch and, before Gu Pingyuan could speak, said, “Big Brother, why didn’t you come back last night? During roll call, I said you went to Bozi Street. I barely managed to cover for you. Luckily, it was Innkeeper Zhu doing the roll call. If Lieutenant Xu had come personally, we’d have been in trouble.”

Now Gu Pingyuan understood why everyone had been smiling strangely. He was known for abstaining from prostitutes and gambling, so they must have assumed that a brothel girl had given this novice a red packet.

“Big Brother, where did you actually go? What did you want to tell me?” Kou Liancai noticed Gu Pingyuan’s solemn expression, unlike his usual slight smile, and unconsciously grew serious too, feeling uneasy.

Seeing Gu Pingyuan remain silent, he eventually couldn’t help but ask, “Big Brother, what’s wrong? Has someone discovered that we secretly sold the ginseng whiskers from the confiscated ginseng last month?”

Gu Pingyuan replied, “How could that be? I replaced them with radish whiskers, and they looked so authentic. Even those dimwitted soldiers couldn’t tell. There’s no way anyone else would notice.”

Kou Liancai let out a sigh of relief. “I thought so too. Even I, who pulled them out with my own hands, couldn’t tell they had been tampered with after you fixed them. How could others notice? But Big Brother, you look so worried, as if you’ve been caught stealing.”

Gu Pingyuan smiled at his jest. “If I had been caught, would I be standing here? Actually, I’ve come to say goodbye, brother.”

“Goodbye… Big Brother, weren’t you sentenced to ten years of military exile, and this is only the fifth year? Have you appealed to someone in Beijing?”

Gu Pingyuan shook his head dismissively. “Brother, you’re still too naive. I’m really worried about leaving you alone in this den of wolves. Think about it—for an old case like ours, we don’t know any important officials and we have no money. Who would overturn our case?”

“Then I don’t understand…”

“No need to guess.” Gu Pingyuan briefly recounted his experience at the Beijing merchants’ inn yesterday and his recent plea to Old Chang Si for help. He concluded, “I must escape, or else this burning anxiety will consume me over the next five years.”

“Ah! That… that’s too dangerous!” Kou Liancai was shocked. He had long known that his Big Brother was different—though a scholar, he understood how to adapt to circumstances. With his courage and meticulousness, he could even speak effectively with military commanders in the camp. But he hadn’t expected Gu’s courage to extend this far. Everyone knew that if a convict escaped and was caught the first time, they would receive eighty military lashes—a punishment that few survived, with death under the rod being common. If caught a second time, they would be executed at the gate. The authorities had set up checkpoints at every pass, with strict controls, and with many wild beasts in the mountains, very few convicts ever escaped from the outer territories.

“It’s precisely because it’s dangerous that I won’t take you with me.” As soon as the words left his mouth, Gu Pingyuan was surprised at himself. He had been deliberating how to tell Kou Liancai about his solo escape plan, but the words came out unconsciously. While the perilous journey through the pass was concerning, his primary worry was for this brother-like friend.

Kou Liancai sighed quietly, as if Gu Pingyuan’s words were expected. He smiled awkwardly. “My body is weak. Such a risky journey would only burden you…”

“No!” Gu Pingyuan quickly interrupted. “Brother, if you think I fear being hindered, you’re wrong. It’s just that I myself don’t have complete confidence in this venture. How could I ask you to take such an extraordinary risk? Rest assured, once your brother is safely established, I will come for you no matter the difficulty.”

“Really?” Kou Liancai had been restraining himself, but now he grabbed Gu Pingyuan’s arm, sniffed, and began to cry.

“Don’t cry, brother.” Gu Pingyuan quickly stopped him. “Time is short. If others return, we won’t have a chance to speak privately. Listen to me: Commander Liu at Fengtian Camp has been on good terms with me these years. After I leave, if you encounter any trouble, you can seek his help. He should be able to assist you.”

This was comforting news for Kou Liancai, who wiped his tears and looked up at Gu Pingyuan.

“Also, behind my room there’s a large poplar tree. Beneath it, I’ve buried ten strings of copper coins and seven or eight taels of loose silver. I had planned to buy some local goods to take home when my exile ended, but now I’m leaving it all to you. If Ma San and the others bully you, buy them some wine instead of confronting them directly.”

Kou Liancai listened, fighting back tears. Thinking of his helplessness after Gu Pingyuan’s departure, his body trembled slightly.

“Brother, I have nothing more to say. Take care of yourself, and wait for the day I come back for you.”

“Big Brother, don’t worry. I will definitely wait. Just knowing you’ll return gives me hope.”

“Good. Now hurry back. I’ll leave tonight. If someone sees us together, it might cause trouble for you.”

Kou Liancai agreed and was about to leave. As he reached the doorway, Gu Pingyuan suddenly remembered something and urgently called him back.

“Brother, if you go to the mountain again, don’t forget to water that locust tree.”

“Yes, don’t worry.” This statement of Gu Pingyuan’s concealed a past event that involved many complications and still filled him with regret. Kou Liancai knew the entire story; hearing these words, he couldn’t help but recall the past. Thinking about parting with a big brother who had treated him like his own younger brother, not knowing when they would meet again, tears flowed down his face once more. Not daring to linger, he turned and hurried away.

Kou Liancai couldn’t return to his room immediately, or else someone might notice his red eyes and ask, “Why are little Kou’s eyes red?” That would be disastrous. So he walked alone to a deserted place to compose himself.

Having arranged this matter, Gu Pingyuan felt a great weight lifted from his heart, but he couldn’t rest yet. At this point, there was only one thing he needed to prepare, and whether he could obtain it depended on trying his luck at the medicine shop.

Next to the inn was a medicine shop. All medicine shops outside the Great Wall hung an angular flag outside, depicting a yellow tiger stretching. Legend had it that this was the handy tool of the Medicine King Sun Simiao, displayed outside by pharmacies merely to add prestige to their business.

The way medicine shops greeted customers differed from other businesses. They practiced standing “with one foot inside and one foot outside,” in case they called out to the wrong person, allowing them to retract their greeting early and avoid offending anyone.

Gu Pingyuan turned into this “Tonghe” pharmacy. The shop assistant at the door started with a drawn-out greeting: “You…” Seeing that Gu Pingyuan was indeed entering, he continued: “Please come in. Who in your household is unwell? Do you have a prescription? If not, we have a doctor in residence.”

Gu Pingyuan waved his hand and walked directly to the counter. “I only need one medicine. Do you have fish skin glue?”

The medicine assistant smiled. “We’re out of that medicine. Our shop hasn’t prepared fish skin glue for three months.”

“Oh, I’ll buy it elsewhere then.”

“Wait… wait! Other places would still get their supplies from our Tonghe. If you can’t buy it here, where else would you go?” The assistant was being helpful, not wanting Gu Pingyuan to waste his journey.

“So it can’t be bought at all?”

“Fish skin glue is definitely out of stock, but we have air-dried fish skin. You can take it home and boil it yourself. It just requires more effort.”

That would work. Gu Pingyuan took two large pieces of fish skin. Though called “fish skin,” it specifically referred to shark skin, which when boiled produced a gelatin that was good medicine for rheumatism, though Gu Pingyuan had another use for it now. He returned to the inn and borrowed the owner’s stove, lit a fire, set up a pot, and boiled it vigorously for half an hour, producing a small clay pot of foul-smelling fish skin glue. To prevent the smell from dissipating, he carefully sealed the cracks with mulberry bark paper.

With this pot of fish skin glue, Gu Pingyuan returned to his quarters, placed the pot in an inconspicuous corner, and casually leaned against the wall, waiting for roll call. As soon as the sun set, those who had gone out drinking and gambling, however reluctant they might be, had to dutifully return or else face punishment—being beaten with boards if caught breaking the rules.

Roll call was nominally the camp officer’s duty, but the officer was unwilling to enter the foul-smelling dormitory, so nine times out of ten, he delegated the task to the innkeeper. As soon as the squinty-eyed Proprietor Zhu entered the room, before he could even take out the register, the room erupted in jeers:

“Hey, Proprietor Zhu, is that a register or an account book? You didn’t bring your family genealogy, did you?”

“Maybe Proprietor Zhu will be reciting his ancestors’ names.”

“You come to call roll every day, we’re tired of seeing you. Send your wife next time.”

“Or your sister would do too, hahaha!”

Proprietor Zhu nodded and bowed, unable to offend these soldiers, nor could he antagonize these convicts. If a quarrel broke out, the inn might mysteriously catch fire in the middle of the night, and who would know who set it?

So his roll call was cursory—scanning ten names at once, calling out every few names, just wanting to finish quickly.

When he called Gu Pingyuan, Gu responded with a moderate voice. Tonight he didn’t want to draw anyone’s attention, but trouble came looking for him anyway. After his response, Proprietor Zhu looked up with a smile, nodding at him: “Brother Gu, Lieutenant Xu requests your presence!”

Gu Pingyuan’s heart lurched. It wasn’t unheard of for a camp officer to summon a convict after nightfall, but it never boded well. The most recent occurrence had involved a Shandong highway robber known as “Flying Tiger.” This man possessed exceptional martial skills, capable of keeping dozens of men at bay when he exercised them. After being exiled, he maintained his bandit ways, standing up for others and offending the camp officer. As a result, one night he was called out, led to a pre-dug lime pit, and when he fell in, the lime blinded his eyes. When pulled out, six of his ribs were broken. The camp officer deliberately had someone wash his eyes with water, burning them and leaving him only able to see a meter ahead in broad daylight. The man was effectively crippled.

Everyone knew this story, but Gu Pingyuan’s character differed greatly from “Flying Tiger.” He kept a low profile, rarely offended anyone, and was quite favored by several camp officers. Now, hearing Lieutenant Xu calling for Gu Pingyuan, everyone in the room turned to look at him with surprise and curiosity. Several who were on good terms with him immediately recalled how he had been whipped by the camp officer on the street a few days ago, and their eyes expressed concern.

Gu Pingyuan’s mind raced, his first thought being that Kou Liancai had accidentally leaked information, or perhaps something had happened with Old Chang Si. Either scenario would be catastrophic.

Forcing himself to remain calm, he got up from his bed and approached Proprietor Zhu: “Proprietor Zhu, I felt unwell after eating today and took some Zhuge Campaign Powder. I’m lying in bed sweating it out. Could you relay a message that I’ll see Lieutenant Xu early tomorrow morning?”

Proprietor Zhu smiled until his eyes became slits, but his words left no wiggle room: “Oh my, Brother Gu, I dare not do that. Lieutenant Xu only said to bring you, not that I could make excuses for you. If I presumptuously agreed and the officer blamed me, my business couldn’t bear such responsibility. Please understand.”

Gu Pingyuan knew he spoke the truth and recognized that asking this seemingly plump and foolish, but actually shrewd, Proprietor Zhu to take such a risk for him was impossible. He glanced at the clay pot in the corner, and with no alternative, followed Proprietor Zhu out and toward the inn.

Along the way, Gu Pingyuan tried to learn more from Proprietor Zhu, but the innkeeper claimed ignorance, simply walking ahead with his lantern, moving quickly and urgently. Though Gu Pingyuan was resourceful, the unclear situation and sudden development left him with no choice but to take it one step at a time. The inn was only a street away from the dormitory. After passing the low surrounding wall, they reached the inn’s main entrance. Proprietor Zhu led Gu Pingyuan to the second floor, said “Lieutenant Xu is in room Tian-2,” and silently retreated.

Seeing that Proprietor Zhu stopped at the stairway and watched him, Gu Pingyuan knew he had to go in. He took a deep breath, prepared for the worst, and knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” The voice from within was indeed Lieutenant Xu’s.

“It’s Gu Pingyuan, sir.”

“Ah, little Gu. The door isn’t latched, come in.” From Lieutenant Xu’s voice, nothing seemed amiss. Gu Pingyuan pushed open the door.

Lieutenant Xu’s quarters comprised a two-room suite—an outer reception room and an inner bedroom, separated by a screen. The hall contained a banquet table set with four place settings, indicating that other guests were expected.

Once seated, Gu Pingyuan realized the four place settings had nothing to do with him, as Lieutenant Xu immediately said: “I’ve invited people for dinner later, so I’ll be brief. What were you using the inn’s stove for this afternoon?”

Hearing this question, Gu Pingyuan relaxed considerably, since if the officer had discovered his escape plan, he certainly wouldn’t start with this inquiry. This lie was prepared long ago, and he could confidently use it now without fear of being exposed.

“Old Song from the side camp has rheumatism. He couldn’t come this time and asked me to bring back some fish skin glue to the Fengtian main camp. This afternoon I was boiling fish skin glue.”

“Oh, I know you’ve always been a helpful person. This time, your glue-making comes in handy, as I happened to see you. There’s something only you can do for me.”

These words left Gu Pingyuan perplexed. Before he could ask, Lieutenant Xu continued: “In a few days, our mission here will conclude, and we’ll report our accounts to the quartermaster upon returning to camp. As you know, this time we used salt to offset the Beijing merchants’ horse money. This account has changed hands several times and isn’t in a single ledger, making it look untidy. It will inevitably require much explanation before the quartermaster. When it comes to literary skills and accounting, no one compares to you.” He tossed over a thick account book.

“Help me consolidate the accounts, combining all the miscellaneous entries into one ledger. Since you’re acting as a clerk, I’m fully entrusting this matter to you. Use the figures from the ledger I’ve given you. All the handover verification signatures will be done by you, completing everything in one night. When we return to camp, I’ll credit you with a merit, which might reduce your sentence by two years.”

Gu Pingyuan grew increasingly alarmed as he listened, and by the end, he involuntarily shuddered. This was no merit—it was clearly a scheme to frame him, shifting blame and pushing the responsibility for purchasing inferior horses onto him. Upon returning to camp, Lieutenant Xu would certainly turn against him. As the saying goes, “Officials protect their own kind,” and nothing Gu could say would matter, likely costing him his life. Moreover, Old Chang Si wouldn’t wait; between midnight and dawn, when the Shanhaiguan Gate opened, the caravan would depart. Who knew when such an opportunity would come again?

Thinking this, he smiled and said: “How could I trouble you with this, sir? I am certainly at your service. However, compiling accounts here might disturb your rest. Perhaps I could take the ledger to the barracks…”

“Nonsense!” Before Gu Pingyuan could finish, Lieutenant Xu slammed the table. “The barracks are crowded with many hands. How could you casually take this ledger to such a place? My dinner will last all night; you can work in the inner room.”

Gu Pingyuan understood clearly—Lieutenant Xu feared others wouldn’t believe a convict had done the accounting, so he invited these dinner guests as witnesses. It seemed that if he couldn’t pass through the gate tonight, remaining in the camp would also spell disaster. But there was no alternative at the moment; he could only act as circumstances dictated.

In the bedroom, a long table stood by the window. Gu Pingyuan sat there, opened the ledger, and meticulously consolidated the accounts. His nature was internally principled but externally adaptable; since things had come to this, he would make the best of the situation. He listened carefully to the movements in the front hall. The three arrivals included two accompanying military officers and a horse merchant. They drank and chatted idly, the content merely about which general had withheld how much military pay, or which brothel in Fengtian had welcomed attractive new prostitutes. Eventually the topic shifted to the ongoing battles in Anhui and the Two Lakes (Hubei and Hunan).

As this involved the Hongmao Army, which concerned Gu Pingyuan deeply, he couldn’t help but pause his work to listen carefully. Indeed, there was much news unavailable outside the pass, all gathered by the horse merchant during his travels within the interior.

“The Hongmao are truly formidable, especially Loyal King Li Xiucheng and Heroic King Chen Yucheng, both fierce in battle.”

“Your first statement is already wrong, Merchant Su. These are all treasonous rebels and should be referred to as Rebel Li and Rebel Chen. As for their false titles, those certainly cannot be mentioned, or else you’re abetting rebellion!” Lieutenant Xu’s tone was unfriendly.

“Yes! Yes! The military officer is correct.” Merchant Su was evidently startled, dropping his chopsticks. Taking the opportunity to pick them up, he changed his wording: “This Rebel Li is helping the great rebel Hong Xiuquan defend Tianjing—no, no, I misspoke again—Nanjing. And Rebel Chen, leading a group of rebels, broke out from the Jiangbei main camp, dividing his forces into three routes to invade Anhui, Hubei, and Hunan. They are extremely dangerous. I heard Wuhan has already fallen, and even Hubei Governor Guo Dafu perished in the line of duty.”

Lieutenant Xu was unimpressed: “A governor has a duty to protect his territory. If he loses the provincial capital, even if he escapes with his life, he deserves execution. Better to die in battle; the court will surely provide generous compensation. With colleagues and fellow provincials in the capital helping, he might even be enshrined and honored posthumously.”

“Though that’s true, the person is still gone. No matter how generous the compensation, it’s merely illusory. But with the rebels so fierce, having occupied Wuhan, only Henan province separates them from the imperial capital in Zhili. I imagine the court won’t stand idly by.” This came from another officer, surnamed Li.

Gu Pingyuan nodded silently, finding this man’s words somewhat insightful.

Merchant Su continued: “Naturally, the court urgently dispatched Prince Senggelinqin from Mongolia with ten thousand iron cavalry to provide swift assistance. I heard General Bao’s troops have also been sent.”

“General Bao… which one?” Lieutenant Xu was somewhat drunk and didn’t hear clearly.

“The Thunderbolt Army.”

“Oh, you mean that old bastard Bao Chao. We once defended Datong together. He borrowed two taels of silver from me to gamble, lost it all, and said he’d owe me. To this day, I haven’t seen that silver.”

Bao Chao was already a second-rank official, while this Xu was merely a seventh-rank lieutenant, but at this table, Xu held the highest position. As the saying goes, “A county official is not as authoritative as the one currently in charge.” If he wanted to brag shamelessly, the other three could only nod in agreement.

Gu Pingyuan was eager to hear more about the Anhui conflict, but Merchant Su had no further opportunity to speak. Half an hour passed with only Lieutenant Xu’s boasting, while outside the window, the second watch had already been announced.

“This is bad. When the fourth watch comes, the city gates will open. Such a delay will surely ruin everything,” thought Gu Pingyuan. He wanted to leave early, but the four men took turns going outside to relieve themselves, each time able to see behind the screen. If he jumped out the window, his absence would be discovered shortly, and once the alarm was raised, he would have nowhere to hide.

After another while, seeing no way to delay further, Gu Pingyuan gritted his teeth and decided to take a desperate risk, staking everything on this one attempt.

Just then, the window frame creaked, opening a crack. Gu Pingyuan quickly pretended to grind ink, and approaching the window, found Kou Liancai outside.

Gu Pingyuan was shocked and kept his voice extremely low: “Brother Liancai, why are you here?”

“Big Brother, I know everything. You can’t leave like this. I’ve come to replace you.” Kou Liancai stood with his feet on the wooden drain outside the window, hands gripping the windowsill, answering in an equally low voice.

“That won’t work! What will you do after I leave? If I escape, you’ll be considered an accomplice. You’ll bear all the punishment—won’t that cost you your life?”

“I’ll manage for a while and then jump out the window and escape, returning to the barracks to sleep. No one will think that I was impersonating you.”

“This…”

“There’s no time.” Kou Liancai gently pushed open the window and very carefully stepped inside. Gu Pingyuan, fearing that he would alarm the people in the outer hall, had no choice but to assist Kou Liancai’s entry with his hand.

As soon as Kou Liancai’s feet touched the floor, he pushed Gu Pingyuan: “Go quickly! Go!”

Gu Pingyuan knew this was no time for hesitation, without even time for words of caution. Fortunately, both wore the coarse gray garments typical of convicts, so no change of clothes was necessary. Kou Liancai only needed to sit with his back to the others.

Gu Pingyuan’s mind was in turmoil, but thankfully he had visited this inn more than once and knew his way around. He slipped out with practiced ease, reached the road, oriented himself, and then ran like the wind toward the Laifu Inn.

Meanwhile, Old Chang Si had been waiting anxiously. The fish-buying and salt-water preparation had gone smoothly, and the secret compartment for Gu Pingyuan to hide in was ready, but the young man they were expecting still hadn’t arrived. Old Chang Si was even considering the worst—what if this was a trap set by the authorities to ensnare him? He shook his head, unwilling to think further.

Liu Heita’s thoughts differed: “Father, don’t worry. This is what they call ‘a noble person’s aid.’ What Brother Gu said didn’t sound made up. What heartless person in this world would joke about their own mother?”

“Ah.” Old Chang Si sighed before speaking. “You lost your mother at a young age and are naturally filial, not knowing the treachery of human hearts. How can one be careless in a life-or-death matter? That young Gu is late, which means something unexpected must have happened. It seems our plan needs to change.”

“Well…” Liu Heita was also at a loss, having no good ideas, so he could only stand on tiptoe looking in all directions, hoping to see a figure appear.

Amazingly, his hopes were answered—a dark shadow ran along the wall from the main road. Liu Heita quickly called out: “Father, look, isn’t that…”

Old Chang Si’s spirits lifted as he hurried forward. Sure enough, it was Gu Pingyuan, and he was overjoyed. Seeing that Gu had run out of strength, he and his adopted son each took one side, supporting him to the cart.

Old Chang Si had already spent money to rent the entire back courtyard of the inn, supposedly to prepare the horses overnight. He told the caravan laborers to rest well for an early start tomorrow. With deception on both fronts, throughout this day and night, no one except Old Chang Si and Liu Heita was present in the backyard.

Gu Pingyuan asked for a ladle of water and drank it down. Old Chang Si, seeing that his breathing had steadied, finally spoke: “Brother Gu, why did you come so late? You had me worried to death.”

Gu Pingyuan smiled apologetically: “I’m sorry for alarming you, Old Father. There was a complication, but fortunately, though delayed, we haven’t missed our opportunity. Is everything ready?”

Liu Heita pointed to the courtyard: “Three large water carts weren’t enough, so we added a fourth one. It’s loaded with seven hundred jin of fish, but actually contains four carts of salt water. Brother Gu, your plan is truly ingenious.”

Old Chang Si added: “The special cart you requested is also ready.”

“Good, let me see it.” Gu Pingyuan stood up, and Liu Heita guided him to a large cart.

“This mechanism you wanted isn’t difficult. It’s just a board installed at the bottom of the water cart, with space for a person to lie inside.”

“The key is that this hidden compartment must be inside the water cart. Only this way will the searching soldiers not be suspicious,” Gu Pingyuan explained while examining it.

“It will be hard on you, lying in water for at least two hours, relying on a single reed for air,” Old Chang Si said.

“The preparations are ready; the rest depends on luck.” At this point, Gu Pingyuan had become calm. What remained was to lie in the water and wait until he either faced execution or gained freedom by entering the pass. Life or death—it all hinged on today.

As the third watch approached, the edge of the sky began to show a faint glow. Gu Pingyuan stopped thinking further, removed his clothes and handed them to Liu Heita, then climbed into the large water cart with its hidden compartment. Liu Heita handed him a reed, watched him submerge into the water and lie down, then covered him with a board.

“Go wake the laborers. After breakfast, we leave immediately. We’ll be the first to enter the pass,” Old Chang Si understood there was no turning back now—they were staking everything on this gamble.

Old Chang Si’s caravan was indeed the first to reach Shanhaiguan. Due to the strict border control these days, even the usually bustling autumn fair had become more desolate. When the caravan arrived at the gate, everyone’s gaze involuntarily fell on the several rows of cangues in front of the gate. Many people were in these cangues, but few were breathing. Following Commander Cao’s orders, even the dead remained clamped for three days. This terrifying display truly created an atmosphere of autumn’s severity, making people shiver despite themselves. Sharp-eyed laborers recognized that the two imprisoned at the front were the Shandong merchants who had tried to force their way through the gate yesterday. Weighed down by over a hundred jin of punishment devices, with their heads and necks half-suspended in the cangues, without food or water for a day and night, and having endured a night of sea wind, they were already half-dead after just one day, visibly unlikely to survive. As for the people in the cangues behind them, they had long ceased breathing.

“Pah! Even when the government executes someone, they must go through several procedures. Without the Emperor’s approval, not even a county magistrate dares to kill arbitrarily. But here, they cangue people to death just like that, treating humans as less than human.” Liu Heita was the first who couldn’t restrain himself, spitting forcefully on the ground.

“Silence!” Old Chang Si quickly silenced his adopted son. “This isn’t like in town. You can speak freely once we’re through the pass. Don’t act impulsively now.”

When the caravan reached the gate, the guards were still yawning, cursing under their breath: “Damn it, entering so early, are you rushing to a funeral?”

Liu Heita heard their foul language and glared, jumping down from the cart. Old Chang Si quickly blocked him, smiling apologetically: “Officer, it’s hard work for you so early in the morning. Here’s a little something for you and your comrades to buy some tea.”

With a red envelope containing ten taels of silver handed over, the guard’s attitude naturally changed completely. The squad leader smiled broadly: “Smart of you. However,” his tone shifted, “you must have heard that our Commander Cao is extremely strict. If we don’t discover something but he does, we’ll all be beaten. So we still need to inspect your caravan. If there’s no problem, we’ll let you through quickly.”

“Of course, of course.” Old Chang Si bowed, a smile plastered on his face.

“What’s in the carts?” the squad leader asked.

“Fish, all fish. Rushing to sell them fresh inside the pass for a good price.”

“Hmm.” The squad leader circled the large cart noncommittally, directing his subordinates: “Go up and check.”

Several soldiers jumped onto the cart, lifted the cover, and stirred the water with their long spears. The fish, already distressed by the concentrated salt water, leaped vigorously when the cover was removed and the water disturbed.

“Sir, it’s fish. All the carts are filled with fish.”

The squad leader made no reply. He untied his sword and used its scabbard to knock on the cart’s sides several times, then bent down to examine it carefully. He did the same with each cart.

Old Chang Si secretly gave a thumbs-up, greatly admiring Gu Pingyuan. If the hidden compartment had been set under the cart floor, protruding outward, or if it hadn’t been filled with water, this knocking and inspection would certainly have revealed the deception. The sound differs distinctly between water-filled and empty spaces, making detection easy. Gu Pingyuan had observed the inspection methods at the gate for several days and understood them thoroughly, which is why he had instructed Old Chang Si to place the compartment within the water.

After knocking several times without detecting anything unusual, the squad leader waved his hand. “All right, that’ll do. Let them through.”

Old Chang Si was overjoyed, not expecting to pass through this “Gate of Hell” so easily. Fearing that the longer they stayed, the greater the risk, he quickly expressed his thanks and directed the laborers to pull the horses and drive the carts forward to enter the pass.

But as they say, what you fear most is what happens—just as the head of the first cart’s horse crossed the gate, a sharp cry came from the stairway leading to the top of the gate: “Wait!”

Old Chang Si’s heart quivered, though his smile remained unchanged as he looked up.

He saw a man wearing the uniform of a fifth-rank garrison commander, though the rank badges on his front and back were covered with plain cloth, and his hat button had white tassels. It had been less than two months since Emperor Xianfeng had “ascended to ride the dragon” (passed away), and the entire Qing Empire, officials and commoners alike, was observing the “hundred days of great mourning,” hence this attire. This military official had fair skin, a wasp waist, and eyes that darted about. The corners of his mouth turned slightly downward, indicating he was extremely difficult to deal with.

“That’s Commander Cao from the gate. Be careful,” the squad leader whispered, letting his hands drop to his sides and fixing his eyes on the ground, waiting for the commander to speak.

“What’s loaded in these carts?” Commander Cao asked.

“In reply to Your Excellency, I have already inspected them. All four carts contain fish,” answered the squad leader.

“Show me their travel permits.” Commander Cao extended his hand.

“Yes, sir.” The squad leader took the “travel permits” from Old Chang Si and his group, presenting them with both hands to Commander Cao. These “travel permits” were essential documents for traveling merchants, recording their native province and name. Commander Cao flipped through them while looking Old Chang Si up and down.

Gu Pingyuan had been right—this Commander Cao truly intended to use merchants’ lives as stepping stones for his advancement. But beyond this, he had another unmentionable reason: to establish his authority through executions.

It turned out that Commander Cao had previously been an orderly to the General-in-Chief guarding Shanhaiguan. This general had a preference for male companions, and Commander Cao was one of his favorites—indeed, perhaps his most favored. After serving as an orderly for a long time, Cao had begged his patron to allow him to serve as a gate official. The pillow talk worked with remarkable speed. His patron had already secured him a fifth-rank military merit, and now with this actual position, he instantly became formidable. But there remained one flaw: everyone in the army knew he was a “rabbit official” (homosexual), and his colleagues always showed some contempt, which he could perceive.

This finally drove Commander Cao to turn ruthless. Being a military man, he knew that in the army, respect was reserved for those with black hearts and cruel hands. During the Kangxi period, for instance, Shang Zhixin, son of Shang Kexi (one of the Three Feudatories and Prince of Pacifying the South), had dared to eat human hearts raw to command his troops. Now Cao decided to follow this example, using a few heads to demonstrate his power, preferably earning praise like “That Cao dares to kill; he’s suited to be a military official.”

He was a clever man with a knack for inspecting contraband. This season, people were clamped in cangues outside the gate almost daily, and even after death, they remained clamped for ten days. Gradually, Commander Cao noticed fear in the soldiers’ eyes when they looked at him, which pleased him greatly. He decided to seize the opportunity to catch more offenders and further intimidate these “clods.”

After examining the “travel permits,” instead of immediately inspecting the carts, he circled around Old Chang Si three times, chuckling, “From Shanxi, are you?”

“In reply to Your Excellency, yes.”

“What goods did you transport on your way here?”

“This humble citizen was in a hurry and brought empty carts.”

“Why were you in such a hurry?”

“This…” Old Chang Si suddenly realized he couldn’t tell the truth, but lacking the quick wit to change his answer on the spot, he could only flush red with a swollen face.

“Hmph!” Commander Cao snorted coldly, throwing the “travel permits” to the ground. He turned to berate the gate guards: “You worthless bunch! Did none of you think? Would this caravan come all the way from Shanxi just to transport a few carts of stinking fish back? If there’s no contraband hidden in there, I’ll dig out my own eyes.”

Finishing his tirade, he turned to Old Chang Si with another chuckle: “Well? Should I inspect, or will you confess?”

Old Chang Si thought to himself, “Not only is there contraband, but there’s also a living person—a convict at that!” Yet at this point, whether he stretched his neck out or pulled it back, the blade would fall either way. There was no reason to voluntarily admit guilt. So, tugging at the corners of his mouth, he forced a smile: “The commander jests. We humble merchants are law-abiding. Besides, Your Excellency’s terrifying reputation is well-known—who would dare to pull the tiger’s whiskers?”

“Such eloquent words!” Commander Cao smiled maliciously as he yanked a long spear from a soldier and tucked up his robe, ready to climb onto the cart. The squad leader hurriedly intervened: “Commander, this… this doesn’t require your personal attention.”

“Smack!” Commander Cao slapped the squad leader across the face. “Get out of my way. Let me show you my methods.”

The squad leader realized he had flattered in the wrong way and quickly stepped aside.

Commander Cao thrust the spear into the first cart, pulled it out, examined how high the water had soaked it, then compared the spear against the outside of the cart to confirm that the water’s depth roughly matched the cart’s height. Silently, he moved to the second cart.

This approach struck at their fatal weakness! Old Chang Si and Liu Heita exchanged glances, both knowing disaster was imminent. The other carts didn’t matter, but the cart containing Gu Pingyuan clearly had a shallower water level than the others. With this method of inspection, discovery was inevitable. Old Chang Si’s heart rose to his throat; even standing on solid ground, he felt it wobbling beneath his feet. Liu Heita pressed his lips together, feeling for the nine-section chain whip at his waist, and quietly loosened the horse’s fastening on the nearest cart. He planned to grab his father and flee on horseback the moment their secret was exposed.

The second cart, the third cart—three consecutive carts revealed nothing unusual. Commander Cao himself was somewhat surprised. He paused, reassessing the caravan members. The laborers all seemed unconcerned; some were even humming tunes, which didn’t appear feigned.

Commander Cao frowned in confusion, then shifted his gaze to the two leaders. What he saw startled him—the large black man’s eyes blazed with fury, glaring at him viciously. Cao was momentarily taken aback. Looking at the old man, he saw that although he still smiled, his facial expression had clearly become rigid.

A person’s face is like a mirror, clearer than words. Having inspected many caravans, Commander Cao had seen all types of people. By now, he was certain the last cart held some problem.

With a cat-and-mouse smile, instead of immediately inspecting the final cart, he walked to the two caravan leaders who had been clamped in cangues the previous day. He struck them hard on their backs with the spear shaft: “Stand properly, or I’ll clamp you for another ten days.”

In truth, these two had already lost consciousness, held upright only by the large cangues that fixed them in the prisoner cages. Commander Cao’s words weren’t meant for them at all but were intended to “kill the chicken to scare the monkey”—and he was quite satisfied to see the “monkey” turn pale as paper.

Commander Cao thought to himself, “You old turtle, still dare to be stubborn with me? When the cangue is around your neck, let’s see if you’re still defiant.” With this thought, he picked up the long spear and walked toward the last large cart with immense satisfaction.

At this critical moment, from the other side of the gate came the sound of horse bells, urgent and rapid, indicating the rider was galloping at full speed.

Everyone present froze. A fast horse charged directly toward the gate, appearing ready to rush through.

The gate guards panicked. It was their duty to guard the gate, and if someone broke through, they would face military punishment. Though there was fighting in the south, Shanhaiguan remained peaceful; now, for someone to suddenly try to break through early in the morning was unexpected—they hadn’t even set up the horse barriers yet. The squad leader drew his waist sword, being the first to rush forward. He made a feint with his blade and shouted: “Who goes there? Dismount immediately!”

Surprisingly, his shout worked. The rider pulled the reins, stepped out of the stirrups, and dismounted, raising a cloud of dust. The person was covered in dirt from head to toe after what must have been a long journey; his clothing was so grimy that its original color couldn’t be discerned.

“Where is the gate official? Tell him to see me.” When the man spoke, he was breathing like an ox, his voice hoarse.

The squad leader stepped forward, demanding: “What kind of creature are you to summon our commander… ouch, ouch!” Before he could finish, he was struck across the face with a horsewhip.

“This is rebellion! Brothers, get him!” The squad leader jumped three feet high, raising his waist sword to strike.

“Wait!” Commander Cao, who had been watching, had sharp eyes. Despite the dust covering the newcomer’s clothes, he clearly wore a military official’s attire, albeit without a hat button—presumably removed during the urgent ride and stored in his baggage.

Commander Cao stepped forward with a bow: “Brother, I am the commander guarding this gate. May I ask who…”

“Enough talk!” The arrival was arrogant, reaching behind to untie a long, cloth-wrapped package. With a shake, he produced a roll of official documents. “Eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch from the Ministry of War. Take me to see the General-in-Chief.”

“Eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch!”

Commander Cao’s mind exploded with the revelation.

Throughout history, communication between the imperial court and local authorities had strict regulations that couldn’t be violated in the slightest. Ordinary documents didn’t require “urgency” and traveled via the postal relay system. For urgent reports, there were three levels according to severity: “two-hundred-li urgent,” “four-hundred-li urgent,” and “six-hundred-li urgent.” The “six-hundred-li urgent” designation was limited to very few situations, mostly military-related, such as vacancies in the positions of governor-general, general, governor, or provincial education commissioner, or the loss or recovery of important cities. Only in these cases could local authorities use this most urgent reporting method. The imperial court rarely used “six-hundred-li urgent” communications to localities. One well-known instance was during the Kangxi period, when the emperor captured Aobai. The calculating Empress Dowager Xiaozhuang, to ensure absolute success, secretly ordered the Manchu and Mongol Eight Banners stationed in Rehe to march to Beijing overnight to support the emperor, using “six-hundred-li urgent” dispatches.

But this time, what came from Beijing was the legendary “eight-hundred-li urgent” dispatch. Commander Cao had heard that “eight-hundred-li urgent” was only used when the capital was besieged and reinforcements needed to be summoned—indicating something momentous had occurred in Beijing.

“Could it be that the Hongmao have surrounded the capital?” The thought flashed through Commander Cao’s mind, but he immediately shook his head. According to military reports received days ago, the Hongmao had just captured Wuchang—still thousands of li from Beijing—and Prince Senggelinqin’s Mongolian cavalry had already gone to intercept them. Even if the rebels were divine, they couldn’t possibly reach the heart of the capital in such a short time.

He had no time to think further, as the postal courier was growing impatient and threw over the Ministry of War’s “verification tally.”

Commander Cao hurriedly caught it and unfolded it: “Dispatch Youji Zhan Tiancheng to deliver eight-hundred-li urgent dispatch to Shanhaiguan General-in-Chief, to arrive within time limit without fail.” It bore the purple clay seal of the Ministry of War.

This left no room for doubt and no room for delay. Even if the courier had been a minor official rather than a youji (third-rank military official), the terrifying “eight-hundred-li urgent” dispatch demanded immediate attention. Otherwise, one misstep could mean not just losing official position but losing one’s head—this was no game!

A youji was a third-rank official, far above him in status. Commander Cao first bowed deeply, then smiled apologetically: “Youji Zhan, the General-in-Chief is in his residence. I’ll lead the way—please follow me.”

In an instant, he led the courier from Beijing out of sight. Everyone present was bewildered, not knowing what to make of the situation. The squad leader, an old military scoundrel who had heard and seen much, knew that with such an important document arriving, there would certainly be major movements at the gate, pending orders from above.

Old Chang Si had finally caught his breath, realizing this was an opportunity of a lifetime. If they didn’t leave now, when would they? He pulled out another silver ingot weighing ten taels and slipped it into the squad leader’s hand.

This was an unspoken understanding between them. The squad leader weighed the silver, touched his still-stinging face, and understood the favor being done. It wasn’t just that Commander Cao was 99% unlikely to return to deal with this matter; even if he did ask, the squad leader could simply say the caravan was blocking the gate, impeding military and civilian traffic, so letting them through was appropriate. He silently waved his hand in permission.

Old Chang Si felt as if he’d received a great amnesty. Shouting “Let’s go!” he watched as Liu Heita took the lead, driving the large carts away from Shanhaiguan as if flying.

It was like making a turn inside the Gates of Hell and coming back out. Old Chang Si looked back to see the fortress receding in the distance, hardly believing they had successfully made it through. Partly from caution after such a scare and partly to avoid further risk, the caravan traveled another ten li before reaching a secluded grove. Old Chang Si sent the laborers away and had Liu Heita open the hidden compartment in the water cart to release Gu Pingyuan.

Though isolated from sight and sound inside, Gu Pingyuan had remained fully alert. When the caravan stopped for so long at the gate, he sensed trouble brewing. Later, when the caravan moved forward again, he was confused by the development. Upon emerging, he was overjoyed, seeing without explanation that the caravan had successfully passed inspection and entered the pass. First, he dried himself off and changed into his clothes, then asked about what had transpired.

Eager as he was to know, Old Chang Si was reluctant to elaborate here, concerned that the laborers might overhear, causing complications. Instead, he gathered everyone around. The laborers were surprised to see a young man they hadn’t seen before. Old Chang Si had a prepared explanation: Gu Pingyuan was a local businessman who wanted to conduct small trade inside the pass and had arranged to travel with their caravan, waiting here since the previous day.

Gu Pingyuan had soaked in concentrated salt water for most of the day, and his skin itched and hurt terribly, but at this moment, he truly embodied the idiom “indifferent to pain and itching.” The ecstasy of regained freedom overshadowed everything else. He wanted to bid farewell to Old Chang Si and head straight for Beijing, but Old Chang Si disagreed, saying they should have a proper expression of gratitude that evening.

Fortunately, they were traveling in roughly the same direction. After half a day’s journey, Old Chang Si chose an inconspicuous town to stop for the night. This halt was necessary to boil the salt water into salt crystals, a process requiring at least two days. Now far from Shanhaiguan, there was no need to conceal this deception from the laborers. In fact, Old Chang Si had felt guilty about keeping them in the dark, and after explaining everything, he voluntarily increased all their wages by ten percent.

Not having known beforehand, and learning about it only after the successful operation, plus receiving extra pay despite the risk—the laborers were all delighted.

Liu Heita then directed the laborers to prepare for salt boiling at the inn. After dinner, Old Chang Si made his rounds, instructing the laborers to work in three shifts, ensuring the fires never went out until all the salt was processed. Seeing that Liu Heita had everything under control, Old Chang Si invited Gu Pingyuan to his room, closed the door, prepared a pot of wine with two plates of appetizers—one hot, one cold—intending to have a serious conversation.

Due to the sensitive nature of their discussion, Old Chang Si had chosen the most secluded room in the entire inn. Though Gu Pingyuan was mentally excited, his body was utterly exhausted, having not closed his eyes since the night before. Despite his desire for early rest, he couldn’t refuse Old Chang Si’s invitation.

Once the door was closed, Old Chang Si’s first action left Gu Pingyuan wide awake, jumping up from his seat.

“Old Father Chang, this is absolutely unnecessary! Please get up, please get up.”

Gu Pingyuan’s exclamation was because Old Chang Si had knelt before him. Not merely kneeling, but preparing to kowtow. Gu Pingyuan broke into a sweat, yet dared not loudly object for fear that laborers might hear and become suspicious. He could only half-kneel, half-support Old Chang Si to forcibly pull him up.

“Brother Gu, my adopted son Liu Heita said he would kowtow to thank you on my behalf, but thinking it over, I should perform this kowtow myself. Not for any other reason—your excellent plan saved my life and my entire family. How could this old man begrudge one kowtow?” Old Chang Si’s expression was extremely solemn; evidently, he had been preparing this speech since leaving Shanhaiguan.

Gu Pingyuan was naturally moved but disagreed with Old Chang Si’s words, for if anyone had saved a life, the old man had saved his, taking an even greater risk.

After expressing this sentiment, Old Chang Si shook his head repeatedly: “That was just your good fortune, brother. Today, that short-lived commander was about to expose us when, out of nowhere, came some ‘eight-hundred-li urgent’ document that drew him away. Such a narrow escape—even in stage plays, you wouldn’t see anything so dangerous. That we turned peril into safety was entirely due to your great blessing; it seems our entire caravan has benefited from your fortune.”

Gu Pingyuan was eager to hear about the day’s events and wanted to divert the conversation to avoid Old Chang Si mentioning kowtowing again. He asked, “Old Father Chang, I know nothing of what happened. Please tell me about crossing through the gate.”

The sun had just set, and with no one around, it was perfect for a long talk. Old Chang Si poured Gu Pingyuan a cup of wine, filled one for himself, and slowly recounted the day’s events in detail.

His storytelling skills were unremarkable, but the danger of the situation spoke for itself. Gu Pingyuan, having lived through it personally, listened with increasing alarm. Toward the end, he stopped drinking, and the few cups of wine he had already consumed turned into cold sweat on his skin.

Old Chang Si took a bite of food, drained another cup of wine, and shook his head continuously: “Heh heh, does hearing this make you nervous in retrospect? Heita said my face turned as white as if all the blood had drained out. Think about it—if that document had arrived one step later, you would have been dragged back to the military camp, and I would probably have lost my head.”

Every word was true, and precisely because of this, Gu Pingyuan felt even more apologetic. He raised his cup again to Old Chang Si: “For my sake, you took such a great risk…”

“Say no more, say no more.” Old Chang Si waved his hand to stop him. “I still say the same thing—your luck is good, and we all benefited from it. But Brother Gu, you appear to be a talented young man. How did you end up exiled from Huizhou to beyond the pass?”

After this question, Gu Pingyuan fell silent. Old Chang Si immediately felt embarrassed and waved his hands repeatedly: “When I drink too much, I tend to ask too many questions. My late wife scolded me countless times for this habit, yet I still can’t break it. Brother Gu, just pretend I never asked. Let’s drink, let’s drink.”

Gu Pingyuan hastily replied: “Old Father, given our current friendship, what can’t be spoken of? Besides, it’s not a secret. It’s just that your question reminded me of five years ago, and I was momentarily lost in thought—please don’t take offense. You asked how I came to be exiled from Huizhou to beyond the pass. Actually, I was exiled from Beijing.”

“Oh?”

“Ah, it truly was like ‘a sheep freezing to death in June’—a long story indeed.”