With one snowfall, winter declared its official arrival on the land of Jizhou, and the people — whose hearts were not burdened as they had been in years past — were seeing their first snow in years with the leisure to appreciate it.

Children in the streets were beside themselves with delight, throwing snowballs, building snowmen, running and laughing, without a care in the world.

Adults gathered in twos and threes, watching the children and chatting idly, their words filled with a kind of yearning.

Even the teahouses that had languished for so long began filling with customers again — even if people only ordered the cheapest loose-leaf tea, that was life returning to the city.

Jizhou City — it seemed like a very, very long time since it had held this kind of life.

The Sun family, Lady Sun and her household, went with their children to visit the teahouse and had a look. The teahouse was thick with dust inside, looking somewhat forlorn.

They lingered only a moment before leaving, eyes carrying a mixture of reluctance and acceptance.

For one brief instant, Lady Sun had genuinely wanted to sweep the teahouse out and open it again. But on reflection, she thought: whether this teahouse opened or not was actually nothing to dwell on any longer.

At the training ground, the new soldiers faced their first winter march drill — a necessary exercise.

The troops assembled at the training ground, then filed out through the gates of Jizhou City, advancing across the vast open snowfields. Their task for the day was this and nothing else.

On the city walls, Li Chi stood watching the troops, moving like a great dragon through the fields beyond the walls, and his eyes held a measure of heartened pride.

From autumn to winter, the force had grown considerably. The new soldiers currently in training numbered eighteen thousand. Once you reached ten thousand, the spectacle was already imposing.

The original new recruits had come to nearly forty thousand, but Tang Pidi was exacting — anyone unfit was sent away without exception.

A different person would naturally seek numbers, for the more soldiers you had the more impressive your power appeared.

Tang Pidi did not want that sort of impressive-looking strength, because he knew clearly what those impressive-looking forces would look like once battle was joined.

On this very land of Jizhou in the past, there had been any number of rebel armies that looked impressive and strong, each claiming tens of thousands. Yet those tens-of-thousands strong rebel armies had been broken and routed by a few thousand government soldiers — such examples were everywhere.

So Tang Pidi’s requirements for new recruits: age strictly between sixteen and thirty, with exceptions permitted only for exceptional physical condition. And even within that age range, anyone who failed to meet standards during training would be given severance pay and sent home.

Eighteen thousand new troops plus four thousand veteran soldiers kept on and mixed into combined units made a force of two armies by count — sizable in appearance.

Yet in Tang Pidi’s eyes, these soldiers were still far from ready for war.

“It looks as though Yuzhou won’t send anyone this winter.”

Mister Yan, standing beside Li Chi, said: “Our troops have at least another five or six months to train.”

Li Chi made a sound of agreement: “Knowing our strength is so thin, the Yuzhou army will certainly come before next summer’s grain is in — if they cannot take Jizhou, they’ll take our grain.”

Mister Yan said: “So you orchestrated all of this deliberately — you must already have a plan to defeat them?”

Li Chi said: “I do.”

He looked into the distance, fell silent for a moment, then sighed: “It’s just — rather ruthless.”

Just then, far in the distance, a column of riders could be seen approaching on the road outside the city. The group was not large — roughly a hundred or so.

This column had no banner raised, which made it somewhat strange.

Li Chi raised his telescope and looked for only a moment, then threw it aside, and his body turned and bolted.

Mister Yan froze. What had come over Li Chi?

He turned to look — Li Chi had already shot down the slope at a pace that could only be described as a hound after a hare.

Li Chi tore down from the city wall, sprinted out through the city gate, and raced northward, waving his arm as he ran.

From within the approaching column, one rider came galloping ahead, drew ahead of the group, then leaped off his horse and came running through the snow toward Li Chi.

On the city wall, Mister Yan raised the telescope and smiled. He had already recognized who that figure was.

Who else could it be?

Thinking of the bond between Li Chi and that man — it was, in all likelihood, the most unshakable and beautiful brotherhood this world had to offer.

That was a man who was the world’s finest older brother, and Li Chi was the world’s finest younger brother.

Outside the city, Li Chi ran at full tilt until he stood before that dust-covered figure, staring at that face and grinning foolishly.

“What are you grinning at?”

Xiahou Zuo, by old habit, raised his hand and ruffled Li Chi’s hair, then caught himself — this fellow had actually grown just a hair taller than him.

“Why did you suddenly come back?”

Li Chi grinned, wide as a simpleton.

Xiahou Zuo said: “No fighting on the northern frontier, and it doesn’t look like there’ll be any fighting in the near term either — so I slipped away and came back.”

He reached out and slung an arm around Li Chi’s shoulder as they walked back: “Starving. I want meat.”

Li Chi said: “Once we’re back I’ll have people start cooking — all meat dishes.”

Xiahou Zuo roared with laughter as they walked: “How’s our mother doing?”

Li Chi shook his head: “Mother isn’t in Jizhou. I sent for her twice, but she wouldn’t come — says Yanshan suits her better, quieter and more natural, good for the spirit.”

Xiahou Zuo blinked, then slowly let out a long breath: “Then on the way back I’ll take a detour through Yanshan.”

Li Chi said: “When you get to Yanshan and see Mother, be careful — she’s been holding back a beating waiting for you.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Well, today’s beating won’t reach me — and as for whatever beating comes later, we’ll deal with it when it does.”

He laughed: “It’s better Mother isn’t in Jizhou. Tonight we can have a proper drink, let loose a little.”

Li Chi said: “Yes, yes, yes — Mother does keep a strict hand.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Exactly — she’s wonderful in every way, except she keeps a strict hand.”

Li Chi passed through the city gate and called out to the guards around him: “Quickly — go back to the residence and have preparations made, heat the water, start the food. Xiahou is back!”

Before long, Li Chi and Xiahou Zuo returned inside the city walls. As they reached the gate of the residence, Xiahou Zuo saw people waiting outside to receive him.

He smiled: “Quite a reception.”

Li Chi said: “Naturally — receiving you, it can’t be casual. There has to be ceremony, and there has to be spirit.”

“Welcome home, General Xiahou!”

A crowd of men called out together at the gate in a single voice.

That unified shout left Xiahou Zuo stirred, genuinely moved.

He walked up to them and returned a military salute, just about to say something when a voice called out from behind the crowd.

“Move in — pin him down!”

Xiahou Zuo found that shout faintly familiar, catching in it some faint trace of a crafty little rascal.

A crowd of men surged forward at once, and while Xiahou Zuo was still in a daze, they had him pinned.

He managed a glance — saw that the rascal who had called out was Xiahou Yili.

Lady Xiahou, seeing her son was held, came out through the door with a broom in hand. One look, and Xiahou Zuo knew things had gone badly.

He turned to look at Li Chi: “You little wretch! Didn’t you say Mother wasn’t in Jizhou?!”

Li Chi said: “Obviously — if I’d told you Mother was in Jizhou, how could we have gotten you? You’d have been on your guard, and I know you because once I said it, you’d have pulled out the leather pad you had hidden in your trousers and said you didn’t need to guard against Mother hitting your backside anymore. That smug look on your face — you absolutely deserved it!”

Lady Xiahou gave Xiahou Zuo a fierce look. The broom came down on Xiahou Zuo’s backside.

“You even had a leather pad hidden in your trousers to protect yourself from a beating? You call him a little wretch — you’re the little wretch! How long has it been since you came home?!”

The blow landed with a crack. Xiahou Zuo cried out.

For the second blow, Lady Xiahou found herself unable to bring it down.

From behind the crowd, Xiahou Yili was jumping up and down calling out: “Hit him, Mother, keep hitting! Hit his backside!”

Xiahou Zuo turned to look toward Xiahou Yili. Xiahou Yili shrank back behind the doorframe, not daring to shout so loudly, but still urging her on: “Mother, hit his backside until it swells!”

But a moment later, Lady Xiahou could not hold it back — tears began to fall.

An hour later. The reception hall.

Fed and full and warm, Xiahou Zuo had spent a good while coaxing his mother, gave Li Chi a fierce glare. Li Chi’s expression said: glare all you like, your glare can’t hurt my backside.

Xiahou Zuo turned his glare on Xiahou Yili. Xiahou Yili instinctively ducked behind her mother, pointing at Xiahou Zuo: “Mother, my brother is threatening me!”

Xiahou Zuo: “Bah!”

The meal done, Xiahou Zuo lifted a teacup and drank a mouthful. The warmth spread through his whole body at once. He had been rushing back through the wind and dust all along the road — only now did he feel settled.

“Has something happened on the northern frontier?”

Li Chi asked: “Every year at harvest time the Black Wu people come raiding south — this year they were unusually quiet.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Because Kuokedi Dashi is dead.”

Li Chi’s hand, holding his teacup, stopped suddenly. He looked at Xiahou Zuo with disbelief in his eyes — he said nothing, but the shock in his gaze was enough to speak for itself.

Kuokedi Dashi was in the prime of his years, forceful in temperament, and his grip on power within Black Wu was absolute.

And by all accounts, the man’s martial arts were formidable — he had trained in swordsmanship at the Sword Sect from boyhood, praised as a rare genius.

After inheriting the throne, Kuokedi Dashi had grown even more dominant. Princes who had held military power and could influence court affairs were one by one stripped of it.

A man of this caliber — under normal circumstances, he could have held the reins of Black Wu for another thirty or forty years without difficulty.

“How did he die?”

Xiahou Zuo looked into his cup of hot tea, and after a long silence, slowly let out a breath.

“The Emperor’s Sword.”

Hearing these three words, Li Chi’s eyes went wide.

Xiahou Zuo said: “It was only after learning of this news that I dared to slip away and come back to see you all. Now Black Wu is consumed by a power struggle and has no heart for a southern invasion. When spring warms next year and Black Wu’s imperial authority is again consolidated, they will surely march south to take revenge.”

He looked out the window, his gaze drifting.

“When that man went north, he took six followers. After crossing out of the frontier passes, he told the six that if, come next year’s autumn harvest, the Black Wu people had not moved east to raid south, then he had succeeded. He told them: return to the capital and inform His Majesty that I have repaid my debt to the throne.”

Li Chi asked: “Who was he?”

“His name was never known. His people would not say.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “When those six returned, only one was left. The other five had gone to his aid and all died in battle.”

“The surviving man crossed back through the passes, came to borrow horses from me, said he had to return to the capital quickly. I sent people to escort him and asked him questions, but he would not say more.”

Xiahou Zuo let out another long, slow breath.

“Only this much was known: the killer had been a secret guard serving the late Emperor.”

He looked at Li Chi and said slowly: “The rest — I pieced together myself through inference.”

The late Emperor had had among his secret guards one man who had witnessed with his own eyes the Emperor’s murder. Yet he had been powerless to act, because the one who murdered the late Emperor was the current Emperor.

The new Emperor had wanted to keep this man in service. But this man could not resolve the conflict within himself — whenever he looked at the current Emperor, he thought of how the old Emperor had died.

Even though the old Emperor had not treated him especially well, he still understood his own duty. The late Emperor was gone, and this man too harbored the will to die.

Calculating the timing: he had set out one year after the old Emperor’s death. In Black Wu he disfigured himself, lay in concealment for another year, and worked his way into the Sword Sect as a servant.

When Kuokedi Dashi came to inspect the Sword Sect, he seized a sword and killed him.

The Sword Sect was at its height, filled to the brim with skilled fighters.

In that battle: the Sword Sect counted one hundred and seventy-two sword masters. He killed sixteen of them.

Thirty-six great sword masters. He killed seven.

Xiahou Zuo said: “I asked the sole survivor: would he tell me the man’s name?”

Xiahou Zuo held his teacup, which trembled slightly.

“The man answered: before they set out, his older brother had said — no matter whether this undertaking succeeded or failed, the man would have no name. The sword would have a name. Whatever sword it was — it would be called the Emperor’s Sword.”