Ting’an County.

The walls, though not exactly crumbling, were the walls of a small county seat — hardly solid or imposing. Even fully intact, they could not hold against an army. From a distance, it looked more like an earthen town.

Sitting at the highest point of this small city and gazing into the distance, the Prince of Wu had been silent for a very long time.

This place suddenly reminded him of the most dangerous battle of his very first military campaign, when he was young. The more he looked, the more it resembled it.

Mountain behind, small city at his feet, powerful enemy at his side.

In those days, the Black Wu people had raided the border. When the urgent report reached Da Xing City, the Prince of Wu’s father — Emperor Jiucheng of Chu — issued an edict to bolster the morale of the frontier troops, and sent his sons to the northern frontier to resist the invaders.

At the time, the senior court officials had asked Emperor Jiucheng: which princes may go?

Jiucheng had said: all except the Crown Prince.

And so that year, the later Prince of Wu Yang Jiju, the later Prince of Yu Yang Jixing, the later Prince of De Yang Jishen, and four other princes — seven in all — set out for the northern frontier.

In a flash, the common people were stirred with excitement.

This Emperor Jiucheng — who was he?

He was the man who believed he could stand equal to the founding Emperor of Chu, who believed he could extend Chu’s matchless might and carve a legacy of a thousand autumns. He was also the man who led the finest several hundred thousand of Chu’s standing armies to their ruin beyond the northern frontier, which was why the Black Wu people had been able to push south in the first place.

Emperor Jiucheng had deployed his sons to the north: was it truly only to hearten the people? That was one part of it. Another part was that several hundred thousand of the regular army had been wiped out, and more than twenty of the able-bodied, talented frontier generals had also died. With tens of thousands of Black Wu troops pressing the frontier hard and superiority in numbers, support was desperately needed.

After the seven princes reached the northern frontier, they did not once regard themselves as princes. They feared above all being called pampered, fearing people would say they were afraid of battle and unwilling to take the field.

That battle. It was also the time the Black Wu people attacked the Central Plains, pressing the border hardest and longest.

Seven princes spent a full three years at the frontier.

Had the Prince of Wu not, at the time, devised a clever stratagem, the Black Wu might have pressed them even longer.

In those days, though Chu had suffered heavy losses in its elite troops, the nation’s strength could still barely sustain the effort. The frontier lacked neither food nor supplies. But the Black Wu people’s supply lines from their homeland were too long, so their provisions were consumed far faster than Chu’s.

To reduce the strain on the treasury, the Black Wu Khan issued an order to the various tribes closest to the frontier to contribute grain and provisions. Over this, no fewer than seven or eight small tribes had been wiped out by the Black Wu Khan.

The horse herds and livestock of the steppe peoples were also requisitioned to provide horses and food for the Black Wu army.

The Prince of Wu resolved to make the journey to the steppe in person, to seek an audience with the chieftains of the steppe peoples and cut off the Black Wu’s supply of livestock and meat. Black Wu frontier soldiers were all men of tremendous physique — none could go without meat. The livestock supplied by the steppe peoples was their primary food source.

When the Prince of Wu wanted to go, the commanding general at the frontier, Xie Tingguo, refused to permit it. The plan was too dangerous.

Besides, Xie Tingguo had his own career to consider: if a prince died on the steppe, would the Emperor spare him?

For men stationed at the frontier in command of armies, this was their deepest fear. Fighting to the death every day not knowing if they’d live to see tomorrow — yet in the eyes of those ministers back at court, it was simply the frontier army doing what it was supposed to do. Do it well, and it’s just duty. Do it poorly, and they’d be punished.

Xie Tingguo refused absolutely. So the Prince of Wu decided to go on his own, in secret. When Yang Jishen and Yang Jixing both found him to say they would go with him, the Prince of Wu in the end chose to go alone. He also knew how dangerous the journey was and had no wish to drag his brothers into it.

The difference between Yang Jixing and Yang Jishen was this: when the Prince of Wu refused to take them, Yang Jixing agreed and stayed behind — he was more clear-eyed, feeling that whoever went might not come back.

But Yang Jishen was different. When Yang Jiju refused to take him, he just secretly followed along.

Yang Jiju was already half the journey out when Yang Jishen caught up. Yang Jiju gave him a proper tongue-lashing — but Yang Jishen just grinned, leaving Yang Jiju utterly without recourse.

Because they had slipped away from camp in secret, they took almost no one — only a few dozen trusted guards at their side.

That was youth: you decided to go, you went, and fear had no place in your heart.

Yang Jiju was truly a rare talent, with schemes already well-laid in his mind.

But when he reached the steppe, the various tribes there refused to cooperate and refused to hand him over. Since the Outer Steppe peoples had always been closer to the Black Wu, they were unwilling to offend either side.

However much Yang Jiju said, if a tribe’s chieftain heard he was coming, they simply hid — while instructing their people to feed the two visitors well and treat them as guests.

So it went for over a month wandering the steppe, with nothing accomplished.

Yang Jishen felt the longer they stayed the more likely something would go wrong. The outer steppe peoples had always leaned toward the Black Wu, and not making a move immediately was already giving them face.

He urged Yang Jiju to return — but Yang Jiju’s stubborn streak, once he set his mind on something and couldn’t see it through, simply would not let him abandon it.

At last they managed to find an opportunity and met with the Tiehe tribe’s chieftain, Multan.

Inside Multan’s golden tent, Yang Jiju spoke with ease and confidence, leaving the Tiehe men dumbfounded.

It was at this moment that Yang Jiju’s character truly began to emerge.

“Great Khan,”

Yang Jiju looked at Multan and said: “Do you know why the Black Wu people keep pressing your tribe to send livestock and provisions?”

Multan said: “The Black Wu have always done this. There’s no reason behind it.”

He spoke these words with helplessness, and no small measure of shame. As one of the great steppe tribes, the Tiehe had always dreamed of restoring the might of the old Mongol Empire. Yet here they were, unable to resist even the Black Wu — it was a sorry joke.

Yang Jiju said: “That is not so. The Black Wu keep pressing the Khan to deliver livestock and provisions because the Black Wu are already at their end.”

He stepped closer to Multan: “The Khan should know that my Chu realm, though perhaps slightly smaller than Black Wu’s territory, is incomparably more prosperous and wealthy. Two Black Wus could not match one Chu.”

“The Khan must know: in Chu’s fertile lands of the south, just the grain from one province — Qingzhou alone — yields more than the entire Black Wu nation in a year.”

“The Black Wu came to war with us. They ran out of grain themselves, and so press the Khan to provide it. In the end the Black Wu and we will call off the fight, but the Khan’s tribe will have suffered great losses.”

These words struck straight to the heart of what Multan had long felt.

“But…”

Multan instinctively replied: “The Black Wu Khan’s command — if I disobey, there may be a disaster of annihilation.”

Yang Jiju smiled: “The Khan is confused. If the Black Wu still had the strength to come after the Khan’s tribe, why not use that strength to attack Chu instead?”

At that moment, the situation had in truth been extremely perilous. Multan had already ordered soldiers hidden in ambush outside the tent.

If he felt these two princes of Chu were inconvenient to keep around, he had but to give the word and they would be seized.

With two princes in hand as hostages, he could extort enormous quantities of gold, grain, and provisions from Chu in ransom. Or if Chu refused to ransom them, Multan could hand the two princes over to the Black Wu.

Yang Jiju at the time was speaking with calm ease, an imposing bearing, utterly without a hint of fear — not the least bit subservient — and truly had Multan somewhat taken aback.

By the time the conversation drew near its end, Multan had actually been persuaded and was no longer inclined to keep sending grain to the Black Wu.

“But what if the Black Wu truly blame us and send troops against us?”

Multan looked Yang Jiju in the eye and said: “You speak grandly here, but when the time comes, will Chu send troops to help us fight the Black Wu?”

“Khan, you are overcomplicating this.”

Yang Jiju smiled: “With just a small and simple scheme, the Khan’s tribe can not only avoid Black Wu’s blame, but profit from the affair — and may even have a chance to unite the steppe.”

These words moved Multan — and made him curious.

“What do you mean?”

“Khan, I have heard that the Huole tribe’s strength is slightly inferior to the Tiehe, and that they have long been at odds with the Khan.”

Yang Jiju lowered his voice: “If the provisions the Khan is delivering to the Black Wu were to be forcibly seized along the way by the Huole people — that kind of thing, the Khan naturally could not abide.”

Multan’s eyes lit up.

Yang Jiju continued: “The Khan, in order not to delay the Black Wu’s military supplies, negotiates with the Huole people, but the Huole are overbearing and aggressive. So the Khan, in anger, sends troops against them.”

Yang Jiju smiled: “Then dispatch someone to the Red City to send word to the Black Wu Khan, saying it was the Huole who started the trouble.”

Multan said: “But what if the Huole don’t take our things?”

Yang Jiju said: “I can arrange for the Huole to do it. If the Khan agrees to my plan, I will go to the Huole right now. All the Khan need do is give me a token that represents you.”

Multan immediately agreed and released Yang Jiju and the others to leave.

The moment Yang Jiju was gone, Multan gave the order: if Yang Jiju’s plan succeeded, he absolutely must not let Yang Jiju and his people leave the steppe alive.