When everyone finally laughed, even the awkwardness ceased to be quite so awkward.

Which was not, of course, because the awkwardness had resolved itself — but because its source, Yu Jiuling, the grand divining sage himself, had in this moment claimed his triumph and was positively glowing with it.

Not that one could entirely blame him for glowing. He so rarely had his moment.

So seeing his eyes now lit up with a look of *this whole thing rode on me* — that was understandable enough.

Only — if the generals in Anyang City who were still squabbling over power were to learn that Youzhou’s southward march had been set in motion by a plate of quail eggs, not one of them would be wearing a pleasant expression.

Yu Jiuling finished displaying his *this whole thing rode on me* eyes, then turned them on Luo Jing.

He fluttered his eyes and gave Luo Jing a look that said: *so — how did I do?*

Luo Jing pretended not to understand and gestured politely. “Eat, eat.”

*No conscience,* Yu Jiuling thought. *Help someone and they’ll drop you the instant they’re done with you. Men like this are all the same.*

He turned to Li Chi, who was already smiling at him before he could even send the look. “Eat your egg.”

*Both of them,* Yu Jiuling thought. *Both absolute scoundrels.*

—

That night. Luo Jing’s study.

After the remarkable spectacle at dinner, discussing the situation in Anyang now felt surprisingly natural.

Mainly it was Luo Jing who had needed the transition — Li Chi had never been particularly troubled by a thin-skinned awkwardness.

As for the matter of quail eggs — that was something neither of them would ever speak of again for the rest of their lives.

“Ding Shengyi knows Anyang best,” Li Chi said to Luo Jing. “I’ll give you Ding Shengyi to guide the way. Taking Anyang won’t be difficult.”

“He’s a deserter and a turncoat,” Luo Jing said. “Surely the people in Anyang City despise him as well.”

“Not necessarily. Among Meng Kedi’s generals, the two with the most prestige were Xue Chunbao and Ding Shengyi. Xue Chunbao died outside Jizhou City — Old Tang put a spear through his skull. And now Meng Kedi is dead too.”

Luo Jing understood. He looked at Li Chi. “Ding Shengyi still commands loyalty in the Anyang army. If he can persuade the defenders to surrender, that’s another battle avoided.”

Li Chi smiled. “If we can take Anyang without fighting, all the better.”

Luo Jing exhaled slowly, turning the plan over in his mind from every angle. With Li Chi’s people already inside the city, and Ding Shengyi’s influence on top of that, the odds were looking very good.

“If you’re going to march on Anyang,” Li Chi said, “there’s no celebrating the new year in Youzhou.”

“The sooner the better.”

Luo Jing calculated the time. Only about ten more days until the new year. Was the timetable really this tight?

He could let the Youzhou soldiers ring in the new year at home first, and set out afterward. Ten days was not much, after all — the soldiers would have no grounds to complain.

“Think about it this way,” Li Chi said. “Meng Kedi has been dead for about a month now. If the people in Anyang City sent word to Prince Wu as fast as they possibly could, how long would that take?”

Luo Jing turned and looked at the large map hanging on the wall, went to it, and traced the positions.

He pointed to the stretch between Jingzhou and Liangzhou — the Great Han River.

“My estimate is that Yang Jiju’s forces should be around here, blocking Yang Xuanji’s army.”

He looked toward Anyang’s position, thought it over, and said: “A fast rider riding through the night could cover the distance from Anyang City to Prince Wu in about a month, pushing hard.”

“A month has already passed,” Li Chi said.

Luo Jing went still. “You mean Yang Jiju will abandon his standoff with Yang Xuanji and personally march back to Yuzhou?”

“That’s my thinking. If Yang Xuanji could beat Prince Wu, would he still be sitting there after all this time? Both sides are deadlocked — neither can advance or retreat.”

“So if I were Prince Wu, I’d leave a capable general with a sizable force, and slip away quietly in the night — no announcements, naturally.”

“Yang Xuanji hasn’t moved yet because he’s waiting for Prince Wu to wear out. After all, Dachu isn’t falling apart in just one place.”

Luo Jing’s expression had shifted slightly.

The mention of Prince Wu made him more determined to go. The man who had broken his father was Pan Nuo, Jizhou’s military governor — and he had already killed Pan Nuo with his own hands. But Pan Nuo had been nothing more than a minor subordinate in Prince Wu’s camp. In Luo Jing’s eyes, there could be no true vengeance until Yang Jiju was dead.

His march into Yanzhou had been partly for that same reason — clearing through Qingzhou, striking Yuzhou from the flank, going around Anyang entirely, and striking straight at Prince Wu’s home territory.

Prince Wu’s soldiers were mostly Yuzhou men. If Yuzhou fell to Luo Jing — or even came under severe threat — those troops would lose their nerve. And Prince Wu’s wife had lived for years at her family’s home in Yuzhou. The moment Luo Jing’s forces arrived, Prince Wu would come rushing back.

Strike a rested, waiting army against a tired, hurrying one — the odds were strongly in his favor.

Luo Jing also knew perfectly well that Prince Wu Yang Jiju’s title as Dachu’s war god was not an empty one. When it came to commanding armies, no Dachu general came close to matching him. As for martial skill — old as he was, there was still no man in the world who could claim a certain victory against Yang Jiju.

Which was exactly why Luo Jing’s strategy was so deliberately targeted. By going around Anyang, striking Yuzhou directly, he would cause the Yuzhou soldiers’ hearts to waver — and once an army’s heart wavers, even an immortal commander cannot stabilize the line.

So at the sound of Yang Jiju’s name, the fire in Luo Jing’s chest flared again.

“Then let’s see who’s faster.”

“I’ll order the army to prepare provisions — five days is all I need. From Youzhou to Anyang, at most a month and a half.”

“And Yang Jiju’s forces — a great army on the march isn’t the same as a military express courier. Traveling that distance with full troops? They can’t make it in less than two months.”

He looked at Li Chi. “If all goes smoothly, I’ll have Anyang before he’s even back in Yuzhou.”

He gave a low sound of satisfaction. “With him not yet back, I could even push past the Nanping River!”

Li Chi’s expression changed. “You must not.”

“Such a perfect opportunity. Why not?”

“The Nanping River is a barrier — for you as much as for Prince Wu’s forces. With that river between you, both sides can settle into position for a time. Secure Anyang first. Then advance step by step.”

Luo Jing looked at him for a long moment, then sighed. “You don’t understand what I feel.”

“How could I not understand? If someone had done to my master what was done to your father, I imagine I would feel exactly as you do.”

Luo Jing gave a quiet sound of agreement.

He looked at the wide stretch of Yuzhou on the map and drew a long, slow breath.

“Thousands of li of fertile land. The granary of the heartland.”

He turned to Li Chi. “The heartland is the center of the realm. Yuzhou is the center of the heartland. Whoever holds Yuzhou holds the advantage.”

“Even so,” Li Chi said, “you must measure your strength against the task. Prince Wu is no longer young, and you—”

Luo Jing stopped him before he could finish.

“I’m afraid he’ll die of old age before I reach him,” Luo Jing said quietly. “Or that illness will take him first.”

Li Chi tried again, but Luo Jing smiled. “I know how to fight. Don’t worry. I won’t cross that river without good reason, and I certainly won’t do it without near-certain odds.”

“What you just said — that the Nanping River means the same thing to me as to Yang Jiju — the real meaning is: once I’m in Yuzhou and things turn against me, crossing back over that river in retreat will not be easy.”

Li Chi nodded. “Yes.”

Luo Jing gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Brother — I understand your concern. And I know what I’m doing.”

“How long will your forces need to reach Jizhou?”

“A few days.”

“Then order your men to carry only a few days’ rations each. I’ll have everything prepared for you in Jizhou — you pass through, pick up your supplies, and keep moving. That’ll save a few days.”

Luo Jing brightened. “Excellent!”

On the battlefield, seconds matter, and days can change everything. The hours pass the same for everyone, but what happens within them — that has no fixed shape.

“Youzhou?”

“I’ll have Dantai come up to hold Youzhou for you. It’s close to the northern frontier here…”

Before he could finish, Luo Jing understood.

“You’re thinking that with Dantai posted here, if the Black Wu forces make another push from the north, he can support Xiahou Zuo more quickly?”

Li Chi smiled but said nothing.

“You’re a young skin pulled over old fox bones.”

Luo Jing scowled at him.

Li Chi smiled. “Go give your men their orders. I’ll wait here for Dantai. I’m not going anywhere — I’ve already sent Yu Jiuling to dispatch someone back to Jizhou to have your provisions readied.”

“Fast,” Luo Jing said. “You really are fast.”

He laughed out loud.

The thought of making Prince Wu suffer — the mere thought of it — lifted Luo Jing’s spirits considerably.

Only a day passed before Luo Jing marched south with sixty thousand troops, leaving twenty thousand to hold Youzhou. Before departing he had given his instructions clearly: when Dantai Qi arrived, all forces were to follow his command.

Li Chi stayed behind. It was almost the new year, and Xiahou Zuo still hadn’t come back to Jizhou — and this was closer to the northern frontier. Perhaps he might make a side trip to check on things.

Xiahou Zuo — for all his perpetually careless air — never went back on a promise. He’d said he would be back in Jizhou for the new year, and unless something truly had him pinned down, he would come.

As it happened, the very day after Luo Jing’s army marched out, Dantai Qi arrived in Youzhou with his personal guard.

Li Chi smiled in surprise. “You’re earlier than expected.”

“Old Tang sent me,” Dantai Qi said. “He said the timing would work out just right.”

Li Chi burst out laughing.

That Tang Pidi — his calculations were uncanny.

“He also said: with you going to Youzhou personally, you’d obviously talk Luo Jing around. And a man like Luo Jing — canny as he is — still hasn’t cultivated a century of cunning. No match for a thousand-year fiend like you.”

Li Chi made a dismissive sound. “He’s the thousand-year fiend. It would take at least a thousand years to perfect that insufferable air of his.”

“Old Tang also has fifty or sixty thousand men’s worth of provisions ready,” Dantai Qi continued. “He said you’d need them.”

Li Chi sighed, raised his hand, and patted himself over the heart. He looked down at his own chest and said: “Tang the Insufferable, you can come out now. I know you’ve been following me the whole time.”

Dantai Qi couldn’t help laughing.

“Oh — and Xiahou is back. He’d just arrived in Jizhou when I set out.”

Li Chi’s eyes lit up at that.

That one — he really never disappointed.

*True to form — Jizhou’s number one wastrel.*

“Then Youzhou is yours,” Li Chi said to Dantai Qi. “Take good care of it. Once Luo Jing is settled in Anyang, Youzhou is ours.”

“We should really say thank you,” Dantai Qi said.

“For what? I traded Anyang to him for it.”

Dantai Qi let out a laugh. “You traded Anyang to Luo Jing in exchange for Youzhou — without asking Anyang’s people about it.”

Li Chi shrugged. “No need to ask. They don’t have a choice.”

—