Because of the Xu family incident, Yu Jiuling had developed a particular fear of Tang Pidi — the kind that made his conscience twinge the moment he laid eyes on Tang Pidi’s face.

By all rights, Zhuang Wudi was just as fearsome a man, yet Yu Jiuling found he wasn’t the least bit afraid of him. In fact, he thought old Zhuang’s brooding, bottle-stopped personality was rather endearing.

Tang Pidi’s brand of calm, however, made Yu Jiuling want nothing more than to put as much distance between them as possible.

The carriage depot.

Li Chi watched Tang Pidi work his way through an enormous basin of noodles, along with a bowl of braised meat, a plate of vinegar-dressed cabbage, and a plate of mushroom and pork slices.

Tang Pidi had come back the previous night, said he was tired and wanted to rest, then slept straight through to the following afternoon before finally getting up.

Upon rising, he announced he was hungry. Li Chi had someone prepare a meal.

A full basin of noodles — Tang Pidi dumped the entire bowl of braised meat directly into the basin, stirred it a few times, and started eating. Perhaps feeling that wasn’t quite enough, he upended the other two dishes into the basin as well. This manner of eating struck Yu Jiuling as a desecration of food.

His appetite, admittedly, was nothing extraordinary — a step below Li Chi’s, actually, so it wasn’t shocking on that count. But the method of eating did strike people as just the tiniest bit rough.

When Tang Pidi finished, he wiped his mouth and looked at Li Chi. “I killed thirty-seven people, including Xu Qinglin.”

Li Chi nodded. “Understood.”

Tang Pidi gave a noncommittal sound and stood. “What needs to be done?”

Li Chi replied, “Nothing pressing for the moment. You can—”

“Then I’ll go sleep for a while.”

Yu Jiuling’s mouth fell open in astonishment. This fellow had come back last night and gone straight to sleep — by any reckoning he’d already been out for roughly nine hours. And he still wanted more?

“Um… Tang — Hero Tang,” Yu Jiuling ventured. “You’ve slept that long. Wouldn’t you rather stretch your legs a bit?”

Tang Pidi glanced back at him. Yu Jiuling instinctively shrank.

Tang Pidi shook his head. “Don’t want to move. Want to sleep.”

And he went back inside to sleep.

Zhuang Wudi surveyed the table — basin scraped clean, bowls empty — and nodded. “I like him.”

Yu Jiuling: “He might be the long-lost brother you never knew you had.”

Zhuang Wudi kicked him in the backside. Yu Jiuling clutched the offended area and retreated to a safe distance.

He looked at Li Chi. “I can’t shake the feeling that now isn’t the time to be sleeping. Shouldn’t he at least explain why he came, and what he intends to do now that he’s here?”

Li Chi said nothing. Zhuang Wudi spoke instead. “No need.”

He got up and headed toward the small training ground. Most of the time when he had nothing to do, he practiced his martial arts. The “no need” was because the first thing Tang Pidi had done upon arriving was help Li Chi eliminate the Xu family troublemakers. That was the act of a true brother.

He was a mountain bandit by origin. He didn’t think there was anything wrong with killing those people.

Yu Jiuling was different. Yu Jiuling had started life as a tavern boy, and no matter how foul his mouth or how irritating he could be, the innkeeper who’d raised him had always taught him to steer clear of trouble. So at his core, he was still a little bit afraid of it.

“Shouldn’t there be something to do?” Yu Jiuling asked.

Li Chi said, “Train.”

He looked off toward the Flowing Cloud Formation in the distance — it had been moved from his small courtyard, since he now spent most of his time at the carriage depot, and practicing at the courtyard disturbed his foster mother’s rest.

This formation remained a formidable challenge. Li Chi had been at it all this time without managing to clear all its variations.

After everything that had happened, to just… do nothing — this struck Yu Jiuling as even more incomprehensible. One sleeping, one training. What kind of people were these?

Li Chi walked a few steps, then looked back at Yu Jiuling. “Why don’t you go sleep as well? We have business tonight.”

Business… meaning going to the military supply depot to take things.

Yu Jiuling said, “Can’t we take even one day off? You’re like someone yanking out a person’s hair — and always from the same head.”

Li Chi said, “Right now Jizhou is riddled with holes. We take as much as we can. These things will save lives when the time comes.”

Yu Jiuling sighed and thought maybe he should just go sleep after all. He’d just turned to head back when Tang Pidi emerged from his room again, standing rigidly in the doorway, giving him a start.

“What’s that?”

Tang Pidi pointed to the Flowing Cloud Formation where Li Chi had been working.

“That’s the Flowing Cloud Formation,” Yu Jiuling said. “It’s—”

He hadn’t even finished before Tang Pidi had already started walking toward it.

As he went, he muttered, “Looks like it might be interesting.”

Yu Jiuling’s interest immediately kindled. Even someone like Li Chi hadn’t been able to clear this formation casually — and now Tang Pidi apparently wanted a try. The fellow had that whole invincible-under-heaven swagger about him. What if he actually cleared it on the first attempt? Wouldn’t that make Li Chi look far inferior by comparison?

Yu Jiuling promptly followed along. Li Chi turned when he saw Tang Pidi approach, and smiled. “Want a go?”

“How does it work?”

Li Chi looked toward the Daoist master sitting watch over the formation. “That’s my master, Daoist Changmei. He controls the formation. Once you step in, the wooden figures inside will attack you. It trains reflex and striking speed.”

“I’ll try.”

Tang Pidi walked up to the formation and clasped his fists in salute toward Daoist Changmei.

The Daoist felt himself growing nervous. His own disciple had failed to clear the thing so many times, and this Tang Pidi truly did look formidable. If the man cleared it on the first attempt, it would reflect poorly on his disciple. He didn’t think Li Chi would actually lose out to Tang Pidi, but still — he was nervous.

Tang Pidi’s aura of self-assurance was, undeniably, a little unsettling. He gave the impression of a man who never encountered anything he couldn’t handle — that however great the obstacle, once he decided to get through it, he would.

That confidence drew, in part, from his nearly two years of campaigning on the steppe — an unbroken chain of challenges and victories that had steadily reinforced his sense of himself.

After his salute, Tang Pidi stepped into the Flowing Cloud Formation.

Daoist Changmei gathered all his focus. He didn’t want to start the formation at maximum difficulty — he set it at the same level it had been when Diudiu first attempted it. Only then could one truly see by how much Tang Pidi surpassed him.

Tang Pidi evidently found the Flowing Cloud Formation demanding, and composed himself accordingly.

He advanced. Beneath his feet, the disc-shaped wooden platforms began to rotate, sprouting what seemed like a dozen oar-like projections sweeping at his lower half.

He dodged immediately. He’d barely found his footing when the wooden figure ahead was already upon him, moving with startling speed.

Tang Pidi thrust both hands out, seizing the wooden figure by its arms. A faint smirk touched the corner of his lips — then his expression dropped like a stone. The wooden figure’s abdomen slid open, and a wooden rod drove straight into his most vulnerable place.

His eyebrows converged into a deeply pained cluster. One could only imagine how unexpected that had been, and how much it hurt.

Yu Jiuling looked on and curled his lip. “Hmph. Absolutely nothing.”

Daoist Changmei exhaled in relief.

Tang Pidi walked out, cupping the injured region, and looked back at the wooden figure, then over at Li Chi.

“That thing… truly catches one off guard.”

Li Chi nodded. “I understand your pain.”

—

Half an hour later, in the pavilion at the carriage depot, Li Chi handed Tang Pidi a jug of wine. Tang Pidi accepted it and gave him a grateful look.

“You came back from the steppe specifically to find me?”

Li Chi asked, after he’d sat down across from Tang Pidi.

“Yes.”

Tang Pidi said, “After returning from Daizhou Pass, I discussed the matter with my father. The Central Plains has been in chaos for a long time now, but it hasn’t yet reached its worst point. The moment Prince Yu raises his banner, there will be opportunities to be seized within the northern territories. I have no desire to live out my days in obscurity.”

He looked at Li Chi. “Common men in a time of chaos strive merely to survive. I do not consider myself a common man. I intend to carve out a future for myself in this chaos.”

Li Chi took a drink and nodded. “I share that intention.”

He looked at Tang Pidi and said, “Yu Chaozong, the chief of the Yanshan Camp’s Green Banner forces, is a man worth following.”

Tang Pidi’s brow furrowed slightly. He was quiet for a moment, then said, “Why would you want to follow someone else? Do you have no ambition to accomplish great things yourself?”

Li Chi shook his head and said nothing.

Tang Pidi waited, and when no answer came, pressed further: “Do you think yourself incapable? Before I came here, I told my father that you are one of the rare few I truly admire. Among those my own age, I have never looked up to anyone. You are the only exception.”

Li Chi smiled a little. “I may not be suited to contending for anything myself,” he said.

Tang Pidi was taken aback. He had come expecting Li Chi to have grand ambitions. A man who had dared to ride out through a border pass with only a few hundred men to bring him back, a man who had used his wits to rescue Mister Yu at Tang County — how could such a man lack great aspirations?

“Li Chi,” Tang Pidi said, “you saved my life. If you wish to pursue something, I will give everything I have to help you.”

Li Chi shook his head again. “I genuinely haven’t thought of it that way. Chief Yu Chaozong has been deeply kind to me—”

He hadn’t finished before Tang Pidi rose to his feet. “Enough — we won’t speak of this. I came here to follow you. Whatever you choose to do, I’ll follow you in it. If you want to pursue your own path, I’ll help you pursue it. If you want to serve under Yu Chaozong, I’ll help you serve under Yu Chaozong.”

Li Chi felt a warmth flood through him. He didn’t feel he’d done anything particularly significant for Tang Pidi — yet Tang Pidi seemed to feel he owed him an enormous debt.

Tang Pidi looked at him, perfectly earnest. “Now, on another matter — when’s dinner?”

Li Chi blinked, mildly. The effect was comparable to a mild concussion. He had the distinct sense that Tang Pidi had just consumed an enormous basin of noodles less than an hour ago.

Tang Pidi read his bewildered expression, nodded as if confirming something, and said, “So it’s not time to eat yet. Then I’ll sleep. Make sure to wake me when it’s time.”

And he left.

Li Chi looked back at Aunt Wu washing vegetables in the courtyard, stood, and said, “Aunt Wu, let’s get dinner started.”

Aunt Wu answered cheerfully at once: “Right away!”

After all that had happened, Aunt Wu could no longer return to the academy kitchens. Li Chi was worried her whole family might be targeted for retaliation — even though Tang Pidi had already killed a number of people, the Xu family’s reach was too broad to be finished off so easily.

Li Chi was well aware the Xu family would come after him. The reason he’d held off all this time was that he knew he couldn’t afford to move against Xu Qinglin yet. Leave him alone, and Li Chi only had the one man to guard against. Make a move, and he’d have the entire Xu clan bearing down on him.

What Tang Pidi had done was direct and unambiguous. Li Chi was not incapable of the same — he simply had too many people to think about, too many to protect.

“Aunt Wu.”

“Yes?”

“Let’s make steamed buns. Is the dough ready?”

“It’s rising already. I know you love buns — and dumplings. I’ll make dumplings for you tomorrow morning.”

“Wonderful.”

Li Chi walked over and crouched beside Aunt Wu to help her rinse the vegetables. He looked up at her and gave her a bright, open smile.

“Aunt Wu. Don’t be afraid.”

She startled.

“Here,” Li Chi said, “no one can hurt you. I mean that.”

Aunt Wu nodded hard.

Just then, Tang Pidi came outside again. He walked over and handed Li Chi a sheet of paper. “Even if you don’t want to pursue anything yourself, that’s fine. But the coming years will be hard to survive. I’ve thought through some things — see if you can get them in order. At minimum, we need to make it through the next few years. And make it through decently.”

Li Chi unfolded the paper and read it. Several items were listed.

One: stockpile grain.

Two: raise pigs and sheep, raise chickens, ducks, and geese — rabbits too, if need be. The more the better.

Three: dig cellars. The bigger the better.

Four: from now on, I’ll train your people.

Five: including you.

—