Late spring, the days of the fifth month — stolen leisure in a fleeting afternoon.

About twenty or thirty miles to the south of Tang Pidi’s Ning Army camp, there was a small river. The channel was only three or four yards wide, and the water shallow enough that at its lowest, it barely reached a man’s chest.

A small folding stool. A fishing rod. A pot of tea.

Tang Pidi sat there fishing at his leisure. Yet from morning until now, more than an hour had passed, and not a single fish had taken the hook.

Tang Pidi was not bothered. Fishing was a pastime — if you let it stir up your temper, what was the point of fishing?

The whole point of fishing was to have nothing to worry about. And having nothing to worry about — what was that for?

To enjoy it.

Catching a fish was a pleasant surprise within that idleness. Not catching one was simply idleness being idle. What was there to be angry about? If fishing made you angry, you’d be better off just going to find someone to fight.

Sitting there, Tang Pidi would often forget to even watch the float, and had begun to look somewhat drowsy.

Just then, the sound of hoofbeats rose from the southern bank.

Tang Pidi’s half-closed eyes opened. He looked toward the southern bank — a mounted Chu Army scouting party came flying in, a unit of about a dozen riders. They reined in at the river’s edge, and seemed entirely unbothered.

The squad leader at their head was silent for a moment, then actually called out loudly:

“You on the other bank — are you Ning soldiers?”

One of Tang Pidi’s personal soldiers answered, “We are.”

The Chu squad leader asked, “Who is the man fishing?”

The soldier glanced at Tang Pidi, who gave a slight nod.

The soldier called back loudly, “The Supreme General of the Ning Army — Tang Pidi!”

The Chu squad leader got a genuine fright. A real fright.

To run into a supreme general while scouting by a river? The odds of that were far lower than bumping into a stranger in the street who turned out to be your long-lost father.

As in: your foot gets nearly run over by a passing carriage, you curse out whoever’s driving, and the driver answers — *that’s your dad.*

The odds of that, surely, were far higher than stumbling across a supreme general.

“Is that true?!”

The squad leader shouted back.

Tang Pidi extended a hand. “Bow.”

A soldier unhooked the bow and handed it to him. Tang Pidi took it, and without getting up — still seated on the folding stool, in a posture that looked almost casual to the point of carelessness — he sighted briefly and loosed an arrow.

The moment they saw Tang Pidi reach for the bow, the Chu scouts scrambled to wheel their horses around and retreat. But they hadn’t expected Tang Pidi to fire so quickly.

Just a casual arrow — and it sheared the red tassel clean off the squad leader’s helmet.

Tang Pidi handed the bow back to the soldier beside him, resumed his drowsy, leisurely pose, and sat there half-dozing.

The Chu scouts wheeled their horses and rode off, vanishing in a moment, leaving only a trail of dust in their wake.

A personal soldier said, “Supreme General, let’s return to camp. It won’t be long before the Chu forces come in greater numbers.”

Tang Pidi said idly, “Didn’t catch a single fish. If I go back like this, Luo Jing will never let me hear the end of it. Let me fish a bit longer.”

The soldier sighed. “Supreme General, you’ve had no bait on the hook this whole time. How would any fish bite?”

Tang Pidi turned to look at him. “Really?”

“Really. This subordinate watched with his own eyes — the Supreme General never put any bait on.”

Tang Pidi said, “Then why didn’t you say something?”

The soldier said, “I did say something when we arrived. I told the Supreme General we’d forgotten to bring bait.”

Tang Pidi said, “And what did I say?”

The soldier said, “The Supreme General said: if I can catch a fish without bait, *that* would be truly impressive.”

Tang Pidi glanced out at the southern bank and smiled. “Catching a fish with no bait — that truly would be impressive.”

He tilted his head back and looked at the sky. The fifth-month sun already had a scorching edge to it. He asked, “Did we bring an umbrella?”

The soldier said, “Also forgot.”

Tang Pidi said, “I don’t want to get burned. Go figure something out.”

Before long, the soldiers hacked down a number of tree branches and saplings — arm-thick little trees — and assembled a rough awning over Tang Pidi where he sat.

The soldiers were quick and efficient, and the whole thing took less than half an hour.

The awning had barely gone up when dust clouds billowed on the southern bank. This was clearly no mere scouting party of a dozen.

At least several thousand cavalry thundered forward and drew up along the southern bank in a long line, standing at the river’s edge like a sudden dense wall of forest.

These cavalry formed up along the riverbank and watched Tang Pidi’s side without moving — in the absence of orders, they made no move at all.

A moment later, the cavalry formation opened a gap, and a group of riders came through from the rear.

The one at the head wore full plate armor, with a face guard obscuring his features so his expression could not be read.

This figure urged his horse forward to the riverbank and stared at Tang Pidi across the water for a long while.

He seemed curious as to why Tang Pidi still had not fled, given the situation.

He leaned over and said something quietly to the man beside him. The man acknowledged it.

That aide called out across the water to Tang Pidi, “Supreme General Tang — what need is there for this act?”

Tang Pidi paid him no attention. He raised a hand and pointed at the armored general, speaking to his own personal soldiers. “You’ve been with me long enough to know my character. Give them a reply for me — don’t let down my air.”

His personal escort captain was a young man, somewhere in his early twenties, with a handsome face and the build of a tiger.

The captain’s name was Jiang Huo. He smiled. “This subordinate dares to answer on the Supreme General’s behalf.”

He looked to the southern bank and called back, “The Supreme General didn’t come here to fish. The Supreme General came to collect firewood.”

He pointed to the Chu battle flags. “The Supreme General says: the cooking fires of our Ning Army require good timber, and ordinary firewood won’t do. We need three thousand flagpoles from the Chu Army.”

He smiled. “What you’ve brought with you right now isn’t nearly enough — go back and bring more.”

The other side erupted in fury.

“Insolent!”

The Chu officer who had been calling out shouted back, “Traitors this brazen deserve to be riddled with arrows on the spot!”

Jiang Huo glanced at Tang Pidi. Tang Pidi smiled. “That reply was barely adequate. Think of something better.”

Jiang Huo considered for a moment, then called back, “Arrow shafts don’t burn well, and we’re not short of those either. If you’re afraid to die, just toss the flagpoles across.”

The armored Chu general gave a quiet order.

The calling officer immediately raised his hand. “Loose!”

Not every man in thousands of cavalry could land an arrow at this range from every position along the bank — riders stationed far to the left and right could hardly hope to reach with any accuracy.

But the Chu cavalry directly across from Tang Pidi still numbered in the hundreds.

At the command, several hundred arrows came pouring across almost simultaneously.

The moment Jiang Huo heard the order to loose, he had already seized an infantry shield.

“Shields!”

He gave one sharp shout.

Personal soldiers closed in on all sides with shields, forming a small fortress.

The arrows came in dense waves, and before long the shield formation bristled with them, like a sudden growth of white reeds.

The Chu forces fired for some time but could not penetrate the Ning soldiers’ great shields.

These were all cavalry — had they been infantry, with heavy equipment like bolt-throwers, they might have forced a breach. But as mounted troops, they had no such weapons to hand.

After a long while, the Chu forces stopped shooting. The shield formation slowly opened.

Jiang Huo called across the water, “The Supreme General says: thank you, Chu brothers, for the arrows — but as he said, we didn’t need them.”

He ordered, “Pull them all out and throw them away.”

The Ning soldiers plucked the arrows from the shields and tossed them all into the river, to drift away on the current.

Jiang Huo called, “Your arrows are terrible quality — shoddy work, not worthy of our bows.”

Tang Pidi rose. “That’s enough. Back to camp.”

Protected by the shield formation, they withdrew in an unhurried, measured pace.

On the Chu side, one of the generals asked Yuwen Shangyun, “Supreme General — your assessment?”

Yuwen Shangyun had kept his face guard down the entire time, not yet wishing to let Tang Pidi recognize him.

Now, seeing Tang Pidi withdraw into the distance, he pushed the guard up.

“A show. Nothing but a show.”

Yuwen Shangyun smiled. “The more he performs such effortless composure, the more he seems completely at ease — the more certain it is he has nothing to back it up.”

“That said, to lead troops as Tang Pidi does — there are few in this age who can match him. A truly rare talent.”

Even though he was certain Tang Pidi had few troops — that was something he had confirmed with his own eyes — he still did not order an immediate attack.

He wanted to observe more. To probe further. This was the caution of someone who commanded armies.

“Send men to build a crossing.”

Yuwen Shangyun said with a smile, “Before we marched north, Prince Wu told me that among the Ning forces there was a young general by the name of Tang Pidi — a rare find, he said, and warned me to handle him carefully.”

“Tang Pidi may be formidable, but he has no army to wield… pass my orders: the full force crosses the river within one day. No waiting — direct assault on the Ning Army camp.”

An hour later, Chu infantry arrived in force. Support troops waded into the river and began constructing wooden bridges.

The channel was narrow. Bridge construction moved swiftly. Before long, dozens of simple spans had been laid across the water.

Stakes were driven, planks laid, the pace extraordinary.

The Chu forces began crossing, like dozens of great serpents sliding across the river’s surface.

Another hour and more, and the Chu forces reached the Ning Army camp perimeter.

The signal horns sounded. Before the formation was even fully assembled, the Chu forces launched a direct assault.

But when they charged into the Ning Army camp, they met not the slightest resistance — the camp was utterly empty.

By the time they reached the far side of the camp, they could see dust rising in the distance. The Ning forces had fled.

“I was careless.”

Yuwen Shangyun’s expression was not pleasant, and he muttered as though to himself, “I should not have exchanged those words with him. It put him on guard. He played at having no care in the world by the river — then returned and immediately led his men to withdraw.”

He thought for a moment, then smiled again. “But this also shows Tang Pidi had no strength for a fight. Order the full army to pursue across the South Peace River.”

The horns sounded again, and the Chu forces immediately organized their formation and advanced toward the South Peace River.

—