On the city wall, Li Chi swung his legs idly and gazed north.

The spot where he sat was, in truth, somewhat precarious — one wrong shift of weight and he could tumble from the height of the wall to the ground far below.

He looked north because the New Year was drawing closer and closer, and that meant the fellow called Iron Pillar was drawing closer and closer to coming home.

These days, Li Chi had made a habit of sitting here, thinking that perhaps one of these mornings he would simply look up and see him — Xiahou Zuo, bouncing along on horseback, riding in.

He waited through the entire morning. No familiar silhouette appeared on the horizon. Li Chi swung his legs back over the inner edge of the wall and headed home.

The Ning Army soldiers on the wall caught sight of Li Chi and, in unison, raised their right arms and placed them across their chests.

The Ning Army salute — solemn and grave.

Li Chi looked at Zhang Yuxu coming toward him, and couldn’t help smiling.

By now, every resident of Jizhou City knew the name of Celestial Master Zhang.

Zhang Yuxu had said on countless occasions that he was not a celestial master — that title belonged to his master. The townsfolk didn’t care. If they decided you were, then you were.

Not hard to understand why the people revered him so. After Zhang Yuxu had gone to Phoenix Song Mountain, he had renamed the temple the Changning Shrine, and unlike the old Phoenix Song Shrine, it kept its doors open to all.

Zhang Yuxu had also come to an agreement with Shen Ruzhan: on the first and fifteenth of each month, five physicians from the Shen Medical Hall would come to the Changning Shrine to offer free consultations.

Every time, Zhang Yuxu made a point of emphasizing that all expenses for those two days of treatment were funded by Li Chi’s Ning Army.

Beyond that, at every festival, Zhang Yuxu led the shrine’s disciples through the streets and alleys to distribute blessing talismans to the townspeople.

In only a year’s time, pilgrims had begun traveling from far beyond Jizhou City itself to pray at the Changning Shrine.

Celestial Master Zhang’s name had likely already spread across the entirety of Jizhou.

The Celestial Master’s name had spread far and wide. And the name of the Sovereign of Men?

Seeing Zhang Yuxu approach with a beaming smile, Li Chi knew he was coming to deliver good news.

“Something important?”

Zhang Yuxu flinched slightly at the phrase “something important.” His mouth twisted.

He shook his head repeatedly. “Please, let’s never use those words again. Before I came down from Dragon Tiger Mountain, I never imagined that one day those words would become so… shameless.”

Li Chi smiled. “One day?”

Zhang Yuxu startled. What a wretched man to serve.

He came to stand before Li Chi and said: “I discussed it with Peng Shier — on the day of the Laba Festival, we plan to set up porridge stations at both the Changning Shrine and the Shen Medical Hall, to invite the townspeople to come drink Laba congee. So I wanted to—”

“Supplies,” Li Chi said, “just go tell Jia Ruan directly. Have him prepare everything in advance. If you need more hands, go ask Little Ninth Sister — actually, I’ll have Old Tang deploy some soldiers. First, extra hands will help with the work. Second, having troops on site will help maintain order.”

Zhang Yuxu said: “Those are minor details. What I came to discuss is whether you might meet the townspeople on the day of the Laba Festival.”

Li Chi was startled. He shook his head repeatedly. “I wouldn’t dare…”

Things were still manageable as they were. That day on the city wall, when the townspeople below had bowed toward him, few of them had been close enough to make out his face.

Zhang Yuxu had recognized him from the wall because he knew Li Chi too well — he could identify him by his build and the cut of his clothes alone.

Even that scene had given Li Chi quite a shock. From childhood to now, he had never had so many people prostrate themselves before him.

At the time, Li Chi’s first thought had been: this is too much — so many people kneeling at once, would it not wear them down to nothing?

The people of the city all knew the legend of the Sovereign of Men, but thankfully very few of them actually knew what Li Chi looked like.

Which meant Li Chi could still wander freely through the streets of Jizhou. If everyone recognized his face, every time he stepped outside would become a tremendous nuisance.

Zhang Yuxu said: “What if you wore a mask?”

Li Chi shook his head. “That’s even worse. Either don’t meet them at all, or meet them openly.”

He nudged Zhang Yuxu’s shoulder with his own. “Fatty, don’t tell me you’ve already gone and announced this.”

Zhang Yuxu shook his head. “Not exactly — though I may have mentioned that there would be a surprise for the townspeople that day…”

Li Chi sighed. “Why is everyone around me so gifted at digging holes?”

Zhang Yuxu said: “The townspeople already embrace you. If you appear before them, their loyalty will only deepen.”

“Take the occasion of the Laba Festival porridge distribution — speak a few words to them, and your standing among them will rise.”

Li Chi still shook his head. “It’s not that I’m afraid to face people. I’m afraid of being kneeled to.”

“The townspeople believe they are kneeling to the Sovereign of Men,” Zhang Yuxu said.

At those two words, Li Chi thought back to the dream he’d had that night. He’d held it in for this long, but at last could hold it in no longer: “What exactly did you dream about that night?”

Zhang Yuxu looked at him. “What exactly did you dream about that night?”

“I… I really did just dream about fighting someone.”

Zhang Yuxu drew a slow breath, braced himself, and asked: “Who were you fighting?”

“It was… ahem, ahem.”

Seeing Li Chi unable to say it, Zhang Yuxu sighed. “Was it the King of Hell in the underworld?”

“How did you know?! Did you plant that dream in my head?!”

Zhang Yuxu: “…”

He turned it over for a long while. To call this a coincidence — even his master, the Old Celestial Master, would never believe it.

“You truly don’t want to meet the townspeople that day?”

“Wait a while.”

Li Chi said: “Wait until I can do more for them. The truth is, I don’t want to stand somewhere high and wave down at them. I’d rather stand among them and share idle conversation.”

Zhang Yuxu said: “You know that’s not possible. You are now the lord of Jizhou, so the people of Jizhou kneel to you. When you become the lord of even more places, still more people will…”

Before he could finish, Li Chi shook his head. “I don’t like that.”

“But you should be glad…” Zhang Yuxu said. “Chief, I remember you once said: when the people have no hope left in their hearts, that is when they turn to ghosts and spirits, when they bow before gods. Now they no longer worship gods. They believe in you. You have already become their faith. When you are ready to receive that reverence — you will understand that there are things a man must do even if he dislikes them.”

Li Chi thought over Zhang Yuxu’s words and nodded.

“One more day of delay is one more day gained.”

He smiled his incorrigible, heedless smile and said: “As for the surprise you promised the townspeople on Laba Festival day — figure out how to fill that hole yourself.”

And with that, Li Chi ran off.

One hour later. The general’s residence.

Zhang Yuxu sat across from Gao Xining and bowed his head in greeting.

After Gao Xining poured him a cup of tea, she asked: “Daoist, you came to find me specifically — what has Li Chi done now?”

Zhang Yuxu acknowledged with a sound, then described the Laba Festival situation.

What he was truly concerned about, he told himself, was not whether Li Chi appeared before the townspeople on Laba Festival — it was that Li Chi had not yet fully accepted his own identity.

To call it “not accepting” was perhaps imprecise. More accurately: he was not yet ready.

“The chief has an overlord’s nature within him,” Zhang Yuxu said, “and yet he has locked that nature deep inside.”

Gao Xining heard this and smiled.

Seeing her smile, Zhang Yuxu couldn’t help asking: “My lady, why do you laugh?”

Something stirred in Gao Xining’s heart. She wasn’t entirely used to the title “my lady” yet, but hearing it made her feel a small, warm glow.

Lady Li.

Heh.

Ha ha ha ha ha ha…

On the outside, she maintained a graceful, dignified smile. But inside, she was already throwing her head back and cackling with her hands on her hips.

She smiled even more broadly. Zhang Yuxu had no idea that his form of address was the cause.

He asked again: “My lady, why do you smile so?”

“Hmm?”

Gao Xining collected herself. “It’s nothing. Just now you said — there is an overlord’s nature living within him?”

“Yes.”

Zhang Yuxu said: “The townsfolk might think ‘overlord’ sounds somewhat unflattering — people tend to understand the word as meaning treacherous and ruthless. But that describes a villain-hero, not a true overlord.”

Gao Xining asked: “Do you think Li Chi himself knows?”

Zhang Yuxu paused. “Does the chief know himself? Surely not — if he knew, he wouldn’t be keeping it locked away.”

“He has always known.”

Gao Xining paused, then continued: “And he is the one keeping it locked away himself.”

Zhang Yuxu was more baffled than ever.

Gao Xining spoke evenly: “I know you are anxious. In truth, many of the brothers are anxious — they all wish he would be more direct, more like the great overlords of the history books.”

“He understands the past more thoroughly than any of you. Every history he could lay his hands on — even the unofficial chronicles and folk tales — he has read more than once.”

“In every age of upheaval, an overlord has always arisen to hold the world together. According to your way of seeing it, those men released the overlord within them.”

Gao Xining paused, then looked at Zhang Yuxu and said: “Li Chi has kept his locked away. You should understand why.”

Zhang Yuxu still didn’t quite grasp it. A vague inkling hovered at the edge of his mind, but he couldn’t catch hold of it.

He had come down from the mountain carrying his master’s charge — to find the Emperor Star. Now he was certain Li Chi was that star.

His master had told him: support the Emperor Star, restore order to the Central Plains, bring peace to the people.

Of course he was anxious.

“I know you came hoping I’d talk some sense into him,” Gao Xining said, “but you’ve forgotten: he doesn’t need talking to. He knows everything, understands everything.”

She rose and crossed to the window, looking out at the distant courtyard, where Li Chi and Yu Jiuling and the others were playing a kicking game with a ball.

That great child, playing and fooling around — was he truly someone who couldn’t even accommodate the image of an overlord?

“You think he is afraid, or unready, and so has locked the overlord within him away.”

Gao Xining said slowly: “But I believe he has locked it away because this much is enough. The overlords of history strained every sinew to release the overlord within them — holding nothing back, letting it pour out entirely. And by that they became overlords. He… must keep it locked away, or he would be too much of an overlord.”

These words were somewhat tangled, but Zhang Yuxu felt he nearly understood.

The image of the overlord that others cultivated — that was not the image Li Chi wanted.

The accomplishments those conquerors built their legacies upon — those were not the accomplishments Li Chi wanted to build.

If he chose to, he could do it with more style than anyone.

He had his own way.

Zhang Yuxu said: “I have been anxious, truly. I’ve been down from the mountain this long, and the chief still hasn’t moved beyond Jizhou.”

“Because Jizhou is the hardest of all.”

Gao Xining smiled gently and said: “When you were three years old, you wanted to jump over the ditch in front of you. You had the desire, but couldn’t do it. The desire stayed with you; you kept training. When you were six, you leaped over it without effort.”

“When you were six, you wanted to lift something weighing dozens of catties. You had the desire but couldn’t manage it. You kept training. When you were ten, you lifted it without effort.”

She asked Zhang Yuxu: “What do you make of that process?”

Zhang Yuxu thought it over. “Is it waiting? Waiting for the right moment — and when it comes, the result follows naturally?”

Gao Xining shook her head. “What I see is different from what you see. What I see is accumulation and growth.”

She let out a slow breath and said: “You don’t need to be anxious.”

She turned to face Zhang Yuxu. “The realm he carries in his heart is greater than any realm on a map.”

Her gaze drifted back to the window, back to Li Chi outside.

“The splendor of the south, the harsh cold of the north — one day, in a place like Jizhou, with a hundred thousand soldiers under his banner… those hundred thousand would be a hundred thousand wolves.”

Here, Gao Xining paused.

Then suddenly she burst out laughing — throwing her head back, hands on her hips, roaring with laughter.

This left Zhang Yuxu completely bewildered once again.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha…” Gao Xining laughed. “As his woman, I am truly remarkable!”

Zhang Yuxu: “…”

—