In the woodshed — this was the temporary interrogation room set up by the Tingwei Army, and Badao had the dubious honor of being the first person interrogated in this room. Also the only one.

Zhuang Wudi walked in and took a look, and his expression shifted slightly.

Mainly because Badao looked rather rough. Before coming in, Zhuang Wudi had been thinking — an old man hitting someone, how bad could it really be? How rough could it look?

But as it turned out, the man before him had both legs broken, and whoever had broken them must have had considerable strength, because those two legs were hanging as limp and soft as cooked noodles.

The person who had done it, however, showed some consideration — no matter how you looked at it, they hadn’t touched Badao’s face.

The saying goes, strike a man but spare his face — but that’s only until you’re pushed past your limit. Once you’ve truly lost your temper, what face won’t you go for?

Zhuang Wudi sat down and stared at Badao. Badao stared back. Even in this wretched state, he refused to surrender on the front of bearing.

He had assumed Zhuang Wudi would question him about something, but after sitting down, Zhuang Wudi simply watched in silence, as though he had no interest in asking a single word.

This went on for quite some time. Zhuang Wudi asked no questions of Badao — instead, he turned to Zaoyunjian and said: “Why wasn’t his face touched?”

Zaoyunjian said: “I didn’t do it. The old Zhenren was the one who acted.”

Zhuang Wudi asked: “And where is the old Zhenren?”

Zaoyunjian said: “The old man said he stayed up half the night and was tired, so he went back to sleep.”

Zhuang Wudi asked: “Did the old Zhenren say anything about why he didn’t touch the face? Is it some rule of Dragon Tiger Mountain — strike a man but spare his face?”

Zaoyunjian said: “The old man said… lifting his arm to hit someone was a bit tiring.”

Zhuang Wudi was momentarily taken aback.

He thought about the old man’s height, and imagined that to strike this big, heavyset Badao in the face, one would indeed have to stand on tiptoe and raise one’s arm up high.

Zhuang Wudi said: “As long as no rule was broken, then.”

Badao let out a cold snort: “You think trying to scare me will work? Then you’ve truly underestimated me. Go ahead and hit me all you want. We’ll see at the end — whether your hands give out first, or my face gives out first.”

Zhuang Wudi looked at Badao with the expression one reserves for an idiot, and finally asked one question: “Someone like you is supposed to be a master from the Cloud Mist Chart?”

Badao snorted again, seemingly too indifferent to bother with Zhuang Wudi.

Zhuang Wudi turned back to Zaoyunjian. Zaoyunjian sighed: “Either way, the Tingwei Army wouldn’t want someone like this.”

So Zhuang Wudi pulled out a bamboo board from his sleeve — roughly a foot long, three fingers wide — and began slapping Badao across the face with it.

Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack. Smack.

Blow after blow, relentless, and Badao was left reeling. His face swelled quickly, then split open.

One more crack — and the bamboo board itself split apart.

Zhuang Wudi looked at the broken board in his hand, then looked at Badao’s blood-soaked face, and gave a nod: “You do have some backbone, I’ll give you that — you didn’t beg for mercy through all of that. But why did you assume I’d be using my hand?”

Badao’s eyes burned with fury and grief. If he could move right now, he would bite Zhuang Wudi to death with his bare teeth.

Zhuang Wudi stood, turned to Zaoyunjian, and said: “Hit him for fun. Nothing worth asking — he’s just someone Mufengliu sent to kill me.”

Zaoyunjian gave a quiet acknowledgment: “Understood.”

Badao let out a howl of fury, screaming himself hoarse.

Zhuang Wudi had already stepped out of the room. Hearing Badao still cursing that fiercely, he turned back and said: “Did I forget to hit him in the mouth?”

Zaoyunjian stifled a laugh: “Allow me.”

—

One hour later. On the city wall.

Watching the Shanhai Army’s formation advance once more, Zhuang Wudi grabbed a bow and arrow and shouted to his men: “I’ve said this to you once already — Prince Ning, in order to preserve everyone’s lives, said we don’t have to fight the enemy forces to the death. The soldiers can protect the civilians and withdraw to Jizhou. But that is not what I intend to do.”

He pointed north: “Prince Ning is fighting alongside his brothers in a desperate resistance against the Black Wu invasion. These animals we’re blocking here — they want to go around and cut off Prince Ning’s rear, to pinch him between two fronts together with the Black Wu forces. They are traitors who sell out their country. They want to hand over the thousands of miles of fertile land in Jizhou — and the entire Central Plains — to the Black Wu.”

He paused to draw a breath, then continued: “Everyone must understand this clearly. I will not force any of you to stay here and die with me. If you no longer wish to fight, you may leave first. But I will not leave. Even in death, my body will stand on the walls of Dragon Head Pass.”

“Fight for the people of Jizhou!”

“Fight to defend the Central Plains!”

“Fight for Prince Ning!”

The soldiers raised their voices together, every one of them without a trace of intent to retreat.

—

Jizhou. North Mountain Pass.

Li Chi looked at the prototype catapult standing before him — roughly half a man’s height — and finally allowed himself to breathe.

The thing looked small, but it could fling objects of considerable weight a fair distance. He had tested it several times and confirmed it worked.

But the construction had been rushed, and even scaled up to a size capable of launching massive boulders, the catapult’s lifespan wouldn’t be very long.

Still — if something like this could be built, its effect on the enemy wouldn’t lie so much in the physical damage it dealt as in the psychological blow it landed.

“Whether the Black Wu retreat now hinges on one thing — a trigger.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at the small catapult and smiled: “This thing could be exactly the trigger that makes the Black Wu pull back.”

Li Chi said: “There’s no time for that. Building one won’t accomplish much. You’d need dozens to form any kind of deterrent against an army of hundreds of thousands — and even then, it would only be a deterrent. To build dozens of them, between sourcing materials, construction, and everything else involved, you couldn’t do it in two or three months.”

Li Chi looked at Xiahou Zuo: “Still — this thing will be useful later on. In my view, it’s far more effective in siege warfare than in defense.”

Xiahou Zuo asked: “Have you given it a name?”

Li Chi shook his head: “Haven’t had time to think about that. Everyone’s here now, though — we might as well come up with something together.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Naming this thing doesn’t have to be hard. Whatever it does, you just need to capture that in the name.”

Yu Jiuling seemed to be struck by a thought upon hearing those words.

He muttered to himself: “The name should convey what the thing does, expressed as simply and directly as possible… that doesn’t sound difficult.”

He looked at Li Chi with complete seriousness and said: “This thing should be called ‘Throw It Out.'”

Xiahou Zuo: “I’d like to throw you out… ‘Throw It Out’…”

Yu Jiuling: “Is it inaccurate?”

Xiahou Zuo: “Throw it out is accurate, but throw out what?”

Yu Jiuling: “If you have to specify what’s being thrown out, it gets complicated. Say it throws out rocks — call it ‘Throw Out a Rock.’ Throw out an egg — call it ‘Throw Out an Egg.’ Isn’t that limiting? It can throw out anything, so just call it ‘Throw It Out.'”

Xiahou Zuo: “What do we call it when we throw you out?”

Yu Jiuling: “Call it ‘Throw Out Someone’s Father.'”

Xiahou Zuo launched a kick at him.

Yu Jiuling: “Hold on — I meant the Black Wu people’s father… It’s a misunderstanding. A complete misunderstanding.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “The way I see it, Little Ninth still hasn’t grasped the essential point. This thing was made to intimidate the enemy, to frighten them — so no matter what it throws… it has to be able to cause mass casualties.”

His eyes brightened as he looked at Li Chi, as though the spark of inspiration inside his head was about to overflow through his eyes.

When Li Chi and the others saw that expression on Xiahou Zuo’s face, they knew he must have thought of something suitably grand, powerful, and satisfying to say.

Xiahou Zuo announced loudly: “Therefore — this thing should be called ‘Crush a Big Crowd to Death!'”

Yu Jiuling curled his lip: “Why not just call it ‘Scare the Living Daylights Out of Them’…”

Xiahou Zuo launched another kick.

Yu Jiuling dodged again.

Li Chi said: “Little Ninth said earlier — keep it simple and direct…”

Yu Jiuling: “Many thanks for the Chief’s praise. My thinking was the correct one all along…”

He looked at Xiahou Zuo with undisguised provocation: “The Chief wasn’t praising you.”

Xiahou Zuo sighed: “The fact that you have managed to thrive and flourish within our family to this extent is itself a testament to the goodness and tolerance of human nature.”

Yu Jiuling: “It’s clearly because my life is just that resilient.”

Xiahou Zuo smiled and glanced at him sidelong, then said: “Since simple and direct is the rule — then call it ‘Smash It.'”

Yu Jiuling: “…”

Li Chi turned to Gao Xining, who had been standing off to the side: “Why haven’t you said anything?”

Gao Xining sighed: “I didn’t dare. I was afraid of giving myself away.”

Yu Jiuling: “Sister-in-law, just say it boldly. I’m not afraid, so what are you afraid of? What is there to give away? However little learning you have, can you really have less than me?”

He sounded almost proud of this.

Gao Xining gave a gentle sigh and said: “I’m not afraid of giving away how little learning I have. I’m afraid of giving away the fact that I’m not a fool — and then being excluded from your group.”

Yu Jiuling looked at Li Chi: “Chief, rein in your better half.”

Gao Xining: “Hmph!”

Xiahou Zuo sighed: “He’s truly gotten full of himself.”

When they looked again, Yu Jiuling was already thirty paces away, standing there with his hands on his hips, wearing an expression of supreme shamelessness that said, what are you going to do about it?

Li Chi was busy casting his eyes around for something, when Gao Xining seemingly conjured a clod of dirt out of thin air.

Yu Jiuling was stunned. He thought: Sister-in-law, if you’re going to learn magic, at least aim for something better than producing a dirt clod.

He turned and ran — but no one has ever been able to dodge Gao Xining’s dirt clods, just as no one can dodge sunlight.

Smack — the clod hit Yu Jiuling square on the backside and exploded.

“I’ve got it!”

Witnessing this scene, Xiahou Zuo was struck by fresh inspiration. He shouted: “Call it ‘Deadly Accurate!'”

Yu Jiuling called from a distance: “You’re just plain foolish-looking.”

Xiahou Zuo: “Why I oughta—!”

He broke into a stride after him. Yu Jiuling took off at a full sprint — and vanished from sight in an instant.

—

At that same moment. The Black Wu encampment.

Kuokedi Dashi stood at the entrance of the camp, gazing into the distance in the direction of North Mountain Pass. He had been standing there in a daze for quite some time.

Zhimotan approached quietly from behind and bowed: “Your Highness, this subordinate has a few words he would like to report.”

Kuokedi Dashi gave a slight nod: “Speak.”

Zhimotan said: “This subordinate bears fault — I failed to lead the army in taking North Mountain Pass. I am willing to accept His Majesty’s punishment upon our return. But I must say: if this battle continues, there is truly nothing more to be gained…”

Kuokedi Dashi heard these words and let out a sigh. Of course he knew.

But if they were to return now, the label of incompetence would be permanently attached not only to Zhimotan, but — because he had come — to himself as well.

His Majesty could not possibly let this pass without punishment…

Had he known it would come to this, he might have been better off not coming at all. But since he was already here, before giving up entirely, he still felt he should try to think of something.

“Let me consider this a little longer.”

Kuokedi Dashi withdrew his gaze from the direction of North Mountain Pass and turned to look at Zhimotan: “You and I both know that withdrawing now is the wiser course — but His Majesty will not permit it.”

He turned back: “How is the ramp coming along?”

Zhimotan said: “Progress is fast, but the men’s morale is already far lower than before. Even if the ramp is completed, they won’t charge forward without fear the way they did last time.”

Kuokedi Dashi fell into thought for a moment, then said: “Issue an order — after North Mountain Pass falls, everything seized in Jizhou belongs to the soldiers. Whatever they take — gold, silver, women — they may take. No military law will restrain them.”

He looked at Zhimotan: “I will explain the matter to His Majesty myself. I can only hope this helps.”

—