Shen Medical Hall, Anyang Branch.

Before stepping out, Li Chi turned and looked back. Every inch of the main hall was filled with people — though a good portion of them had come merely to look.

The glance Li Chi cast behind him was a silent wish: that this branch, into which so much had been poured, would not be put to the torch by someone whose fury had been lit.

Back at the riverside. Back to fishing.

Two small stools sat side by side along the bank. The grass was a quiet, deep green; the willow branches swayed in long, languid strokes.

Young Lord Cao Lie’s guards were spread out on all sides. Not only could no one approach — they would be turned away at several dozen paces.

Li Chi stepped down from his carriage, and Cao Lie’s household guards bowed to him from all around.

Twenty days. In twenty days in this vast city, there was likely not a soul who had not heard of Shen Medical Hall, and not a soul who had not heard of Shen Medical Hall’s Young Master Li.

Cao Lie’s guards all knew it as well — that this Young Master Li was the young lord’s closest friend.

Li Chi returned their bows with easy courtesy. Everyone is fond of a person with manners.

A person of standing who still shows consideration — it adds to one’s bearing, and makes one all the more compelling.

As Li Chi walked toward Cao Lie, he thought to himself: twenty days is more than enough to become someone’s friend.

And perhaps, to hate someone — a single day might be enough.

When he left Anyang, the hatred Cao Lie held for him would ignite like a wildfire.

Raging flames leaping to the sky — it would probably be terrifying to see.

Because the young lord was an uncomplicated person. And he loathed being deceived most of all.

Noticing Li Chi’s arrival, Cao Lie, who had been catching grasshoppers, broke into a grin and waved a string of them in Li Chi’s direction.

He wasn’t showing off his catch. He was reproaching Li Chi for being so slow.

Li Chi glanced at the two stools sitting side by side by the river, and something heavy settled in his chest.

Cao Lie dangled the string of grasshoppers at him. Li Chi smiled and replied with two words.

“They’re edible.”

Cao Lie blinked, looked at the grasshoppers, then back at Li Chi, then asked, “Why is it that in your eyes, everything can be eaten?”

Li Chi said, “They genuinely can be.”

Cao Lie asked, “Are they good?”

Li Chi shook his head. “They’re not.”

Cao Lie nodded and tossed them aside. “Then I won’t bother.”

Li Chi sat down by the river and began sorting through the fishing gear. “A fastidious person would fry them in oil. Someone less particular would just roast them over a flame and eat them.”

Cao Lie was about to reply, but Li Chi’s words continued.

“In Jizhou — year after year of war and disaster on top of it — you wouldn’t even see these things. Because the moment a commoner spotted one, they’d eat it. No oil, no fire. Just as it was.”

Li Chi glanced back at Cao Lie and smiled — a smile with something bitter at its edges.

He said, “To a famine refugee, these are meat.”

Cao Lie went still. For a long moment he didn’t move. He felt sick, and he felt sad.

He had heard stories of how desperate famine refugees could get — gnawing bark, eating grass roots, boiling leather to a broth and swallowing it.

He had also heard that in years of great catastrophe, people had eaten dirt when hunger became unbearable.

And he had heard that during the worst years of disaster and chaos north of the river, people had exchanged children to eat.

After a long silence, Cao Lie said, “Jizhou has truly suffered.”

Li Chi nodded. “It has. Every grain of rice is a life.”

Cao Lie had just been thinking about Meng Kedi’s forthcoming campaign — which was going to Jizhou to seize grain.

Li Chi finished adjusting Cao Lie’s rod and line and handed it over. “It’s ready.”

Cao Lie took it and sat down beside Li Chi. He cast the hook into the river and fixed his eyes on the float — but his gaze was distant.

After a moment, he asked Li Chi, “So you were willing to come to Anyang because Jizhou had suffered too much?”

Li Chi shook his head. “If people could still live — or even barely scrape by — who would want to leave home? It wasn’t because Jizhou had suffered too much. It’s because I knew Anyang’s forces would march on Jizhou.”

Cao Lie recalled that Li Chi had said as much from the very beginning.

He had come solely because Meng Kedi would inevitably lead his army to attack Jizhou.

Cao Lie let out another sigh.

He said, “War is truly terrible.”

Li Chi made a sound of agreement.

Cao Lie said, “It’s all the fault of those refugees who fled here from Jizhou. It was their accounts of conditions there that prompted General Meng to prepare for war.”

Li Chi said, “Not necessarily. In this world, very few things are so straightforward. What you see isn’t always what is.”

Cao Lie was about to respond when Li Chi pointed to the river. “You’ve got a bite.”

Cao Lie quickly lifted the rod. A fish — probably three catties or so — broke the surface, but it was unwilling to go quietly and thrashed in the water.

Li Chi watched Cao Lie without moving to help. He didn’t stir — but Cao Lie’s guards did.

Someone immediately leaped in, gripped the fish with both hands, and struggled back to the bank.

Cao Lie turned to Li Chi with barely contained delight. “This is the biggest fish I’ve ever caught. Before this, the largest I’d landed was no bigger than my palm.”

He was grinning. Li Chi was grinning too.

So Li Chi swallowed the rest of what he’d been about to say.

Just now he had wanted to say: in this world, few things are so straightforward, and what you see isn’t always true.

Such as, for instance — those people who had fled to Anyang as refugees.

And yet some things in this world seemed almost fated. Such as, for instance, those refugees who had made their way to Anyang — the vast majority had not been allowed inside its walls.

They had come to Anyang seeking refuge, but Meng Kedi had been afraid that among them were spies from the Jizhou forces.

Letting these people into Anyang would destabilize the city.

No one could guarantee that there were absolutely zero Jizhou scouts hidden among them. So at the time, Meng Kedi had simply had a few of them brought in for questioning.

He would not keep them in the city — they were all potential threats.

Several thousand had come — far too many. If two or three hundred of those thousands were Jizhou infiltrators, the danger to Anyang would be catastrophic.

He had simply ordered them driven away. But the one who executed that order was Xue Chunbao.

Out in the wilderness, Xue Chunbao had treated those people as prey. Hundreds were killed; the rest fled in all directions.

Li Chi knew this. It was also why he had come in person.

If Meng Kedi had welcomed all those people into Anyang, Li Chi would never have conceived this plan in the first place.

His original plan had only concerned one thing: how to capture as much materiel as possible after Meng Kedi’s army marched into Jizhou.

“What are you thinking about?”

Cao Lie peered at the dazed Li Chi and asked.

Li Chi said, “Today is the day the General moves out. His forces left Anyang at first light.”

Cao Lie made a sound of acknowledgment and asked, “Are you worried about your people?”

Li Chi shook his head. “Not worried. They should be fine.”

Cao Lie said, “I don’t believe you.”

He clapped Li Chi on the shoulder, with just the faintest note of pride. “But you truly needn’t worry. I told General Meng — he is absolutely not to touch your people.”

Li Chi fell quiet. Then he stood suddenly, stepped back two paces, and gave Cao Lie a deep, formal bow.

Cao Lie stared at him, narrowing his eyes. “Are you not right in the head?”

Li Chi said, with sincerity, “I have to express my thanks properly. And I want you to know — if the day ever comes that I have that same power, I will do the same. I will tell others: not a single person under Cao Lie is to be touched.”

Cao Lie burst out laughing. “Then I’ll wait until you have the power to say it.”

Li Chi laughed too.

Who knew — perhaps that day would come.

“I need to head back a little early today.”

Li Chi looked at Cao Lie. “A few things to see to at home.”

Cao Lie grinned and asked, “The only thing that could make you go home early would be your sister-in-law, surely.”

Li Chi shook his head. “It’s not that. Have you forgotten? Today is the first day Shen Medical Hall ships its goods.”

Cao Lie had no recollection of any such thing, and asked, “What goods?”

Li Chi said, “Something I arranged with Prefect Liu. Every vessel in and out of the Anyang docks is to carry emergency medicines. All the medicine has been prepared — it goes to the docks today.”

Cao Lie burst out laughing. “I forgot you were a profiteering merchant. You’d barely arrived in Anyang before you’d already brought Liu Yao around — he used the government’s authority to issue an order requiring all vessels to carry emergency medicine, and that medicine must come from your Shen Medical Hall. The two of you stitched this up long ago… no wonder Liu Yao has been so helpful.”

Li Chi smiled. “For the first shipment, I ought to be there to see it off. Though it’s not much money — even spread across a thousand vessels, it amounts to a few thousand taels at most.”

Cao Lie said, “For something this small, why go in person?”

“I still should.”

Li Chi said, “My sister-in-law mentioned she has never taken a boat…”

Cao Lie burst into fresh laughter. “I knew it — it’s definitely your sister-in-law making you go back. Otherwise I’d never believe you’d personally make a trip for a few thousand taels.”

He asked, “Do you need me to send ships to escort you?”

Li Chi shook his head. “No need. Just a short trip from the docks to the shipyard to check on my vessels — about twenty li or so. I just want her to have the experience.”

Cao Lie said, “You’re giving your sister-in-law quite the perfunctory outing.”

He gave Li Chi a shove. “Go, go — don’t keep your sister-in-law waiting too long. I’m heading back to Yuzhou tomorrow too, which is why I wanted to see you today.”

“My old man is coming home soon. He only comes back a few times a year — I can’t very well be away when he returns.”

Cao Lie sighed. “The next time we meet may be a long time from now.”

Li Chi nodded. “We’ll meet again, in the end.”

Cao Lie said, “You know how lazy I am. It’s about twenty days from Yuzhou to Anyang — too much trouble…”

He let out a long, slow breath. “A man as lazy as me — once I’m home, I won’t want to go out again. You come find me.”

Li Chi smiled. “I’ll come, for certain.”

Cao Lie spat a sound of derision. “Hah! You’re just as lazy.”

Near midday, Li Chi’s procession departed for the docks with the medicines in tow. Back at Shen Medical Hall, business continued — customers still crowding the hall as before.

Only no one noticed that every person remaining inside Shen Medical Hall was someone hired locally.

And the carts trundling toward the docks were not carrying medicine at all — they were carrying silver.

A little over half an hour later, the procession reached the docks. The three ships were already waiting.

The cargo was loaded. The vessels set sail.

By the time they left the docks, the sun had just begun to tilt west.

And at the very moment Li Chi and his company pulled away from the docks, people ashore looked toward Anyang city in alarm — for they saw a column of black smoke rising straight into the sky.

Somewhere in the city, something was burning — and it looked to be burning fiercely.

Many people, fearing for their own homes, turned and ran back toward the city. No one spared any particular attention to those three departing ships.

In the days before this, Li Chi had had his people practice handling vessels — on the pretext that they would need the skill sooner or later.

Twenty days was not enough to master it, but the fundamentals had been learned.

In addition to his own men, he had hired experienced local boatmen to guide them. No use had been made of anyone assigned to Li Chi by Cao Lie.

Black smoke billowed over the city. Three ships moved upriver.

The Nanping River would not carry them to Jizhou — but at the point where the Hutuo River flowed into the Nanping, heading north would take them to Guzhou.

From Guzhou, entering the Dading River and traveling west for some two hundred li would bring them to Baipo Lake — roughly Jizhou’s reservoir.

Li Chi had calculated the route. By water, half a month would be enough.

Back in Anyang.

At the Cao family estate, on the second floor, Cao Lie stood with both hands on the railing, watching the pillar of churning smoke in the distance, his brow deeply furrowed.

“Report!”

A subordinate came running back, gasping.

“Young Lord — the fire is at the army’s medicine storehouse. No one knows how it started. The reserves of medicines may be a total loss.”

Cao Lie asked, “Why did it spread so fast?”

The subordinate replied, “Some are saying they caught a smell like black powder, and when it went up there were popping and crackling sounds — there is suspicion it was deliberate arson.”

Cao Lie’s frown deepened further.

The town of Taoyuan was famous first for its peach blossoms, and second for its fireworks.

During the two days Li Chi and his party had stopped over in Taoyuan, they had viewed peach blossoms by day and enjoyed fireworks by night.

—