Along the main street, a carriage moved at an unhurried, measured pace — the very manner in which great figures travel.

When it reached the city gate, the carriage was stopped. But the soldiers on guard still had to speak with courtesy.

The carriage bore the insignia of the Shangshu manor. Minister Li was currently the most valued official in the Emperor’s inner circle, already holding a standing equivalent to the foremost civil official in the court. How could the gate guards dare show the slightest discourtesy?

Moreover, the person seated inside the carriage was the Minister’s own younger sister.

For the past two days, rumors had been spreading through Daxing that the Emperor intended to take Minister Li’s sister as his Empress.

Whether or not such a thing was true, it was not something one could afford to be careless about.

So the guards did nothing more than glance at the waist token before waving the carriage through the gates.

The maidservant explained that the young lady was due to enter the palace first thing the next morning. Word had come from within the palace that several of the esteemed Noble Consorts wished to meet with her, and they had also requested that she bring some fresh flowers.

The flowers and plants within the palace, though vivid and colorful, were the same varieties over and over again — the ladies had grown tired of them.

The ladies wanted to see the wildflowers from the countryside outside the city. They had specifically asked for something simple and naturally beautiful.

So — a young lady of the Li household going outside the city to pick flowers for the ladies of the palace. Who would dare stop that?

And the maidservant had an air that was cool, poised, and rather proud — entirely in keeping with the bearing one would expect from a personal attendant to a young lady of a prominent household.

But what those gate guards could never have known was that this maidservant was none other than the woman in purple.

Watching the carriage depart, with its escort following in an arrogant swagger, the gate soldiers began to murmur among themselves.

One said: *What’s she got to be proud about? For all we know, she’ll be Dachu’s last Empress — and who knows how many days that’ll last anyway.*

Another clapped his hand over the speaker’s mouth. *You want to die, go die on your own — why drag the rest of us down with you.*

Someone else said: *Oh, relax — it’s not like what he said isn’t true, in times like these.*

Yet another said: *Did you notice how heavy the carriage seemed? Even the horses were straining to get it moving. Just how heavy is this future Empress?*

And so the soldiers laughed — keeping their voices low.

Someone made a wicked joke: *To think that Dachu’s last Empress might turn out to be a pig.*

—

Of course the carriage was heavy. There were a great many people inside.

Huang Wei’an’s wife and Li Shang’s younger sister sat together in the carriage. Across from them, still bound, were Li Shang and Huang Wei’an themselves. Standing guard over the two of them was a young boy called Little Gangzi.

Add the driver up front and the maidservant seated beside him, and that made seven people packed into a single carriage — no wonder it felt heavy.

The woman in purple, disguised as a maidservant, glanced back toward the city gate, and a complicated feeling settled over her.

People really were all different.

Sometimes, a man’s greatest appeal lay in this — the willingness to face death without hesitation for the sake of what he believed in.

People invented the word *greatness* because there were people who were first great.

Her feeling of wonder came from the fact that Gui Yuanshu had not left with them.

Gui Yuanshu had entrusted his brothers to the woman in purple and asked her to escort them safely back to Yuzhou.

Originally, Gui Yuanshu had asked both Old Sun and her to make the return journey with the group. Old Sun refused. Old Sun said: *We were paid. Payment is a contract. A contract not written on paper is more important than one that is — because it must be kept in your heart.*

Gui Yuanshu refused to leave, because he still had work to do here. He had not come solely to rescue his brothers.

*As a loyal subject of Prince Ning, one must plan on Prince Ning’s behalf.*

—

Inside a roadside tea stall near the city gates, Gui Yuanshu sat watching the carriage and its escort grow smaller and smaller until they vanished from sight. He finally allowed himself to let out a breath of relief.

Old Sun asked, “Not afraid to die?”

Gui Yuanshu replied, “You probably haven’t met many people more afraid of death than I am. But as much as I fear dying, I fear dying for nothing even more.”

He asked Old Sun, “Do you believe there are truly noble people in this world?”

Old Sun nodded. “I believe it. But they’re rare.”

Gui Yuanshu said, “Then would you be willing to buy a noble person a cup of tea?”

Old Sun said, “Don’t even think about it!”

Gui Yuanshu smiled slightly, then pointed at himself. “I believe I am one such person… Ordinary people might not understand. Those in power might not acknowledge it. But in this world, there truly are people like me — people who feel they’re living for an ideal that is vast beyond measure.”

“If I told someone: my ideal is for every last person across the Central Plains to live in peace and prosperity — to be secure and proud, free from foreign invasion, free from the oppression of civil war — and that if I could make that happen, I would feel truly invincible… well, most people would probably think I’d lost my mind. Only the people around Prince Ning would all believe it, because they are — no, we are all the same.”

Old Sun said, “I also think you’ve lost your mind. Are there really people in this world who live and struggle purely for the sake of an ideal?”

Gui Yuanshu said, “There are. Take Prince Ning, for example.”

Old Sun said, “Prince Ning still just wants to be Emperor.”

Gui Yuanshu said, “There are two kinds of people who want to be Emperor. One kind wants to be Emperor for the sake of being Emperor. The other kind wants to be Emperor in order to save the world. Prince Ning is the latter. If you were to meet him, you might find him a little tight-fisted, a little shameless, a little undignified — but you’d still feel that he is noble. And when you spend enough time around someone noble, you become noble yourself.”

Old Sun said, “Then if I spend enough time around you, will I become noble?”

Gui Yuanshu nodded. “Certainly.”

Old Sun considered this for a moment, then asked, “Once I’m noble, will I need to give you your money back?”

Gui Yuanshu’s eyes narrowed slightly — because what he saw in Old Sun’s eyes was an unmistakable: *You dare say ‘give the money back’ and I will never be noble, not for anything.*

So Gui Yuanshu said, “Honoring the spirit of a contract is itself a form of nobility.”

Old Sun broke into a smile. “Who would have thought — who would have thought — it turns out I’ve been a noble man all along.”

Gui Yuanshu stood. “Would you mind settling the tea bill?”

Old Sun said, “Why should it be me?!”

Gui Yuanshu said, “You just grasped the meaning of nobility. Now let me help you understand what it means to be *both noble and completely shameless.*”

And with that, he turned and ran.

Zheng Shunshun picked up a few copper coins and set them on the table, then pulled Old Sun along as they walked out, speaking to him in a tone of deep earnestness. “I’ll pay this time. But I also need to give you some advice — if you ever follow me in supporting Prince Ning, remember this one saying.”

Old Sun hadn’t given any thought to supporting Prince Ning, but he was curious what the saying was.

So he said, “Please enlighten me.”

Zheng Shunshun said with great seriousness: “The longer you follow Prince Ning, the more shameless you become — and the more glorious your life will be.”

Old Sun was completely stunned, staring at Zheng Shunshun in utter disbelief.

Zheng Shunshun shrugged. “Our lord just said it himself — nobility and shamelessness are not mutually exclusive.”

—

Shiyuan Palace, Eastern Study.

The Emperor listened as Prince Wu finished laying out his plan. His expression was deeply grave.

But he could not deny it — the best available strategy at this juncture truly was this one: use one predator to devour another.

Li Xionghu was the tiger — the tiger from the southeast. Yang Xuanji was the wolf — the wolf from the southwest.

Even at this point, neither Emperor Yang Jing nor Prince Wu Yang Jiju had placed Prince Ning Li Chi on the same level of threat as Li Xionghu and Yang Xuanji.

Because by every visible measure, Prince Ning was far weaker in terms of raw military strength.

How could they have known that by now, both Yanzhou and most of Qingzhou had already been brought under the Ning Army’s control?

Of course they didn’t know. Even Li Chi himself didn’t know. How could they possibly have known?

Even if they had known, they still wouldn’t have counted Li Chi among the most pressing threats before them.

Not yet.

Li Xionghu was said to command two million troops. Prince Wu estimated that even if not two million, then at least one and a half million.

And trailing behind Li Xionghu’s armies like a plague of locusts sweeping across the land were displaced refugees — now numbering in the several millions.

They were not soldiers, and they would not take part in battle. But they would cheer and wave banners for Li Xionghu’s forces.

Once Li Xionghu’s side won, those countless refugees would descend like a swarm upon everything in their path.

To say that Li Xionghu now possessed the greatest military strength in the realm — no one would dispute that.

But to say that Yang Xuanji was the most likely to ultimately claim the empire — still no one would argue against that either, for the power behind him ran far deeper.

Prince Wu Yang Jiju said slowly, “Li Xionghu has a sworn brother named Zhai Li. Wherever Li Xionghu advances into Jingzhou, Zhai Li will certainly lead his forces north as well.”

“Zhai Li?”

The Emperor didn’t seem especially familiar with the name.

Prince Wu said, “When Li Xionghu first rose in rebellion, he had only a dozen men at his side. Those dozen swore brotherhood with him, and Zhai Li was among them.”

“When the rebel Li Xionghu raised his flag in Yuezhou, those dozen men became the core commanders of his rebel forces. Most of them have since died over the years of warfare — some killed in battle, some dead of illness. Only one, Zhai Li, still lives.”

The Chief Eunuch Steward Zhen Xiaodao stood to one side, bowed as he listened. Hearing this, he couldn’t help but think to himself: *Out of a dozen brothers, only two now remain — that’s rather sad.*

The thought had barely formed before he cut it short. *What am I thinking? This is treason against the realm. Rebels all deserve to die!*

Prince Wu continued: “After Li Xionghu seized Suzhou, he proclaimed himself Hegemon-King of the East River and enfeoffed Zhai Li as the Prince of Peace — meaning one of equal standing, a prince who walks shoulder to shoulder with him.”

The Emperor let out a faint scoff. He seemed to find the cheap brotherly sentiment of bandits rather contemptible.

A bandit proclaiming himself king was already a cheap affair in every possible way — but to then create a title like *Prince Who Walks Shoulder to Shoulder*, that was cheaper still, even childish and absurd.

Anyone with ambitions of becoming an emperor would never tolerate another person standing as his equal.

A force with two leaders of equal standing would never hold together for long.

The Emperor was thinking all this — forgetting, it seemed, that as Emperor of Dachu, he was still weaker than his opponents.

Prince Wu said, “After Li Xionghu swept through Suzhou, Zhai Li remained to hold Yuezhou. His troop numbers should amount to at least several hundred thousand. The one small comfort is that none of their rebel forces are particularly well-trained — they rely entirely on sheer numbers.”

The Emperor nodded and quietly tallied up in his mind how many immediate threats the Jingzhou crisis now contained.

Yang Xuanji would certainly march. Li Xionghu would certainly march. If Zhai Li also pressed north to capitalize on the moment, then Li Xionghu’s odds of winning might truly be the highest.

After all, in most cases, sheer numbers do matter.

But Yang Xuanji was not without his own allies either. The Military Governor of Liangzhou, Du Ke, had surrendered not long after Yang Xuanji marched out of Shuzhou and attacked Liangzhou. Yang Xuanji had enfeoffed him as the Marquis of Destiny and set him in command of the garrison at Liangzhou.

The forces under Du Ke were no ragtag mob — they were over a hundred thousand regular Dachu garrison soldiers. Moreover, he had been Yang Xuanji’s subordinate for two years already. With Yang Xuanji’s enormous supply of money and provisions behind him, and with further recruitment, his forces were likely no fewer than three hundred thousand.

Beyond Du Ke, the Military Governor of Shuzhou, Pei Qi, was also Yang Xuanji’s man. Shuzhou was Yang Xuanji’s home base, so naturally it was well-garrisoned.

The Military Governor of Jingzhou, Xie Xiu, was also Yang Xuanji’s man — though there was little need to elaborate on him, since he was a member of the Xie clan.

But Xie Xiu was different from Du Ke and Pei Qi. Those two had surrendered quickly — Pei Qi most of all, being Yang Xuanji’s personal confidant.

Xie Xiu had fought Yang Xuanji first before surrendering — which made him the cleverer one. First, he wouldn’t be branded a traitor who capitulated without a fight, since he had resisted before yielding to necessity. Second, he had demonstrated his capabilities to Yang Xuanji in the process.

So judging solely by troop numbers, Yang Xuanji could not match Li Xionghu and Zhai Li combined.

But — if the Military Governor of Liangzhou Du Ke and the Military Governor of Jingzhou Xie Xiu both marched their forces into Jingzhou simultaneously, Li Xionghu’s chances of victory would look considerably slimmer.

And this was precisely where the Emperor’s fears lay — because in a three-way comparison, the court was the weakest of all.

Prince Wu had returned, but this old man would be facing a den of wolves and tigers on his own.

The Emperor couldn’t help but ask, “Royal Uncle… do you have any further stratagems? After all — after all, the capital is running low on grain and on silver.”

Prince Wu was silent for a moment, then bowed. “The capital is not short of grain — only the granaries are. The capital is not short of silver — only the treasury is.”

The Emperor was taken aback.

In Prince Wu’s eyes, he saw a killing intent — far greater than anything the Emperor himself had shown when he had moved against the great noble families.

Well, when one thought about it — given the circumstances, what else was there still to be guarded against?

So the Emperor rose to his feet. “Then… I leave it in Royal Uncle’s hands.”

—