Inside the carriage, Li Chi spread open the map and took a look, checking how much distance remained to their destination.

He had led the army from the time they prepared to enter Jing Province all the way until they actually entered it — every moment of it spent on the road.

As for that fortified pass that had stood blocking the Ning Army’s path, the battle there was hardly worth recounting.

The fall of Chu had its reasons, and without question, those imperial clansmen were one of them.

They had kept their troops idle in the pass — every one of them with ambitions higher than the sky and ability thinner than paper.

At first, they had planned to attack Jing Province, to take the initiative and strike at Xie Xiu’s forces, convinced of their own great prowess.

Yet for all their grand speeches of heroic courage and boundless skill, when the question came to who would lead the vanguard and who would strike first, not a single one was willing to be the one to step forward.

Later, when they learned that Da Xing City had been besieged, they should by all rights have led their troops back to relieve the capital. They were of imperial blood — the capital was surrounded, the Emperor was besieged — what reason did they have not to return? After all, they were men personally chosen by Emperor Yang Jing, each commanding tens of thousands of soldiers. Even returning to pin down the enemy forces would have relieved some of the pressure on Da Xing City.

But they carried on as before: righteous fury in their words, and the bearing of turtles pulling in their heads the moment action was required.

Then, once Da Xing City’s siege was lifted, they had no face to return and meet the Emperor or the Prince of Wu.

They hadn’t come back at the most dangerous moment. Now that the rebels had been defeated, were they supposed to return and claim credit?

So they talked it over and agreed they might as well just stay in the pass permanently — out of everyone’s way, with no one bothering them. How perfectly comfortable.

Yet that didn’t stop them from firing off volleys of empty words. When they learned that the Emperor had first intended to abdicate in favor of Ning Wang Li Chi, and later had actually done so for the Heavenly Mandate King Yang Xuanji, they were in quite a panic.

They even joined together to issue a proclamation of rebellion — and the rebel in question was not Yang Xuanji, but Emperor Yang Jing himself.

In their view, the Emperor had shamed the imperial clan, and they could not condone it.

They called upon heroes and brave men across the land to gather at the pass, to form a great army of righteous retribution.

The proclamation went out. For several months, not a single person came.

And so, deflated once more.

Such was the collective portrait of those spoiled sons of Chu’s imperial clan — not all of them, perhaps, but six or seven out of ten.

In boasting, they outshone one another. When the time for action came, they outperformed each other in theatrics.

When things ended well, they would step forward to critique those who had done the work — this was handled adequately, that could have been done better — adding invariably that if they themselves had managed the affair, it would naturally have turned out far more splendidly.

When things ended badly, they would jump up and down cursing the streets, while proclaiming that they had seen this coming all along.

Ask them about bird-keeping and dog-breeding, and they were seasoned experts with something to say about everything. Speak to them of military strategy and tactics — they understood very little, yet still managed to adopt an air of lofty condescension, as if to say: “I, as a prince of the imperial blood, am silent because I disdain to speak. Surely you don’t think it’s because I am your inferior?”

Li Chi led his forces to take that pass, and it took him all of two days.

On the first day he set up the catapults. On the second day, after roughly a hundred or so stones had been hurled at the pass walls, a white flag rose above the battlements.

Those young talents who believed themselves the equal of the Prince of Wu came trudging out of the city gate one by one, heads hanging in defeat, and knelt voluntarily along the roadside.

After breaking through the pass, Li Chi issued an order to send the lot of them to Yuzhou’s Qipanshan to raise pigs.

Then he left two thousand troops behind to garrison the pass and led his main force into Jing Province.

Li Chi lifted his gaze from the map and was about to glance out the window, but his line of sight stopped partway.

Gao Xining was dozing against the opposite side, leaning at an angle — and what a beautiful picture she made in sleep. The world held ten thousand scenic wonders, but all of them put together could not compare to the long, delicate lashes that one could see so clearly when she slept.

The sixth month had arrived, and the southern heat had come with it. Gao Xining wore a long dress, without the embroidered robe and cape of the Chief Justice’s office draped over her.

As she slept, one of her long, slender legs had slipped out from beneath the hem, pale white and dazzling to the eye.

Li Chi’s gaze stopped there. He asked himself in his heart… this, just this — any man alive would struggle with this, wouldn’t he?

So he himself must truly not be a man, to have endured it this long.

Gao Xining was tall to begin with, and those two legs of hers were flawlessly proportioned — and, crucially, so white…

Though only a portion showed beneath the hem, it was more than enough to stir in Li Chi a faint and restless feeling.

“What are you looking at?”

Gao Xining had woken at just that moment. She asked with a smile curling at her lips.

Li Chi, with great composure, reached over and adjusted her skirt: “Afraid you might catch a chill.”

Gao Xining burst out laughing. She leaned forward and looked directly into his eyes: “There’s only the two of us in this carriage. If you want to look…”

Before she could finish, Li Chi was already nodding his head up and down, every bit the frenzied little chick pecking at grain.

Gao Xining: “If you want to look, then do it yourself.”

Li Chi: “…”

Gao Xining: “Tch…”

She leaned back and gazed at her own long legs, saying: “Such beauty. Such straightness. Such…”

Li Chi: “I’m going out for some fresh air.”

And with that he hunched over and crawled out of the carriage.

Gao Xining watched him go and let out a small huff. “If there’s nothing wrong with his heart, then something else must be wrong.”

Li Chi, who was just stepping down from the carriage, heard this line. His body lurched sideways, and he nearly tumbled off.

The procession moved forward in great force. Li Chi made his way to the carriage where Yu Jiuling was riding.

The weather had grown warm, and Yu Jiuling was lounging in the carriage wearing nothing but a large pair of shorts, fast asleep. Li Chi took one look at Yu Jiuling’s legs — which looked as though they were clad in fur trousers — and felt the heat in his chest evaporate entirely. Remarkably effective.

“Wake up.”

Li Chi called out.

Yu Jiuling opened his eyes: “I was already awake before you got in.”

Li Chi: “Then why did you pretend to be asleep?”

Yu Jiuling said: “I had the faint sense you were looking at my legs. Such beauty, such straightness — it would be a waste not to let you look…”

Li Chi: “Never mind, I’ll go breathe some fresh air elsewhere.”

Yu Jiuling burst out laughing, sat up straight, and asked: “Boss, is something the matter?”

Li Chi gave an assenting sound: “Send someone to contact Old Tang. Find out whether Old Tang has reached the agreed position, and also ask where we should position our forces. After making contact, we need to rendezvous with Old Tang and Xiahou before we can pen the Prince of Wu in and keep him from getting back to Da Xing City.”

Guiyuan Shu was still investigating the affair of those people and had not come with the army, so the matter of picking the messenger fell to Yu Jiuling — he had no shortage of experienced spies under his command, after all. Many of them had followed Yu Jiuling from the very beginning. Speed was among their chief abilities.

Yu Jiuling nodded: “I’ll send someone shortly.”

He asked Li Chi: “This time — can we beat the Prince of Wu?”

Li Chi smiled: “Old Tang has spent two years scheming to trap the Prince of Wu, and has mobilized forces from Jing, Yu, Su, and Qing provinces — no fewer than five hundred thousand troops — to set up this great snare. There’s no reason we still can’t hold him.”

The five hundred thousand Ning Army troops now entering Jing Province had their target not as Da Xing City, but the Prince of Wu himself.

The only fighting force the court still had was the Left Martial Guard. So long as that army remained intact, it would be a constant thorn in their side.

Da Xing City was too formidable — its walls high and mighty. If the Left Martial Guard chose to defend the city, even with Li Chi and Tang Pidi commanding five hundred thousand men in a siege, it might not fall easily.

Besides, there were still Guan Tinghou and Han Feibao in the city. Let those two fight over Da Xing City for now.

Yu Jiuling sighed: “Just think — Old Tang has to mobilize more than twice the Prince of Wu’s forces before he’s willing to make his move. That alone speaks to how formidable the Prince of Wu is.”

He was a little wistful: “If Old Tang defeats the Prince of Wu, the title of War God is his.”

Li Chi smiled: “It will be his sooner or later.”

Tang Pidi had sent a letter to Li Chi two years ago, and from then began making preparations for this campaign in Jing Province. Li Chi had marshaled all that manpower solely to support Old Tang in fighting this battle well.

It was not that Tang Pidi doubted his ability to beat the Prince of Wu with equal forces — rather, when it came to fighting the Prince of Wu, one had to win on the first try. One could not give the Prince of Wu any room to breathe.

A man like that — give him the tiniest opening, and he might turn it into a killing blow right back at you.

Yu Jiuling closed his eyes and imagined the spectacle of five hundred thousand troops hunting the Prince of Wu. Just thinking about it set his blood surging.

At the same time, in the northern reaches of Jing Province, at Mangdang Mountain.

The Prince of Wu had dispatched his vanguard army and departed. He then made another inspection of the grain and provisions stored within Mangdang Mountain.

The caves ran deep and were packed to bursting. Without beginning from the outside and working inward piece by piece, there was no way to know what lay deeper in.

He had earlier sent troops to transport grain back to Da Xing City in two batches. The first batch should have arrived by now.

If not for the rebellion that had broken out within Da Xing City, the Prince of Wu had planned to remain until the mountain’s supplies were entirely moved before departing.

A man like him — how could he fail to guess Tang Pidi’s intentions?

On the very first day he arrived at Mangdang Mountain, he had said to his subordinates that this was a trap Tang Pidi had dug for him — using the mountain’s provisions as bait to stall him here and prevent his return to Da Xing City.

Yet the Prince of Wu was not especially troubled. He had reason to be confident.

Tang Pidi commanded only seventy or eighty thousand troops, while he had two hundred thousand.

No matter how brilliant Tang Pidi was, no matter how capable a commander, the Prince of Wu did not believe Tang Pidi could win.

The Left Martial Guard had never once suffered a defeat, and what was more, the harder the enemy, the stronger they became.

Most reassuring of all: the grain was real. With provisions in full supply, what was there to fear?

Two batches of grain had been sent back without incident.

And yet, precisely because of this, the Prince of Wu, now preparing to march home, felt a growing unease.

Since he was being forced to return to Da Xing City this time, he had ordered his troops to take all the grain with them. The provisions stored in the caves were being moved out continuously.

As they moved it, someone let out a startled cry.

The Prince of Wu, who had been making his rounds, felt a jolt in his heart the instant he heard the shout. That dark premonition came surging up.

He walked quickly to where the shout had come from. The man’s face had gone pale: “Your Highness — the grain further in is fake. It’s all sand and gravel.”

“Keep moving it out!”

The Prince of Wu immediately called the order.

Soldiers carried the sacks out one by one to check the interior. What was uncovered was all false.

In that moment, the Prince of Wu’s expression went somewhat pale.

For in that instant, he suddenly understood what Tang Pidi’s true intention had been.

“He never intended to use the grain as bait to block me here. He used it to delay me. From the very beginning, he never planned to fight me…”

The Prince of Wu murmured to himself.

His subordinates looked at one another, the color draining from every face.

Tang Pidi’s scheming ran too deep.

He had used half the grain as real — still a substantial quantity.

But he had calculated that the Prince of Wu would have to ship that grain back to Da Xing City, so those real supplies would be taken away.

By the time the Prince of Wu discovered that the remaining grain was fake, it would be too late.

Tang Pidi’s reinforcements would have arrived, the encirclement gradually closing.

The Prince of Wu picked up a handful of sand and gravel and turned it over in his palm. A moment later, he exhaled heavily.

“Pass the order: within one hour, the army must break camp. Leave the tents, leave everything unnecessary. Within two days, we must cross the Panxing River!”

He flung the gravel aside and strode out with great steps.

In that moment, the Prince of Wu’s heart spoke: Tang Pidi, oh Tang Pidi — I had thought that you, being the man you are, would choose to meet me in fair and open battle. For a man of your character must surely be proud. To win over me fairly — only then could you truly be this realm’s greatest commander, only then would you be worthy of the name…

I never imagined you would choose to delay me, to wait for a great army to close the encirclement, to meet me in decisive battle with several times my forces.

At this thought, the old War God drew a long breath.

“Then let us see whether you — the one I’ve always thought most highly of — can hold against me.”