Two months later, the Ning army began moving south from the northern part of Jing Province, drawing gradually toward Da Xing City.

The great chaos that had consumed the realm had, at last, begun to take on the faint shape of resolution — a break in the clouds, a glimpse of the moon.

There were now, in theory, only four forces left with any real chance of ultimately prevailing.

One: the Ning King, Li Chi. Two: the Yue King, the Marquis of Guanting. Three: the Geling King, Han Feibao. Four: the Emperor of Great Chu, Yang Jing.

Though the Chu court was weakened, tens of thousands of soldiers still held Da Xing City, and enough grain remained to last a while yet. A large portion of that grain had been brought back from the Mangdang Mountains by the Wu Prince; another portion had been harvested by Chu forces who had rushed to cut the summer crops outside the city walls — not daring to venture far, but taking what was close.

Looking at the situation now, the Marquis of Guanting in Yang Province was still holding his ground, seemingly content to watch events unfold.

Han Feibao, who had declared himself the Geling King, was beginning to look anxious — because it was he who would be directly threatened as the Ning army pushed south.

Over the past three months, Han Feibao had completely reversed his previous approach to warfare. No longer fixed on the principle that soldiers must be elite.

He had sent riders out in every direction to round up people by force. Across dozens of provinces and counties in every direction, any able-bodied man they could find was dragged back and pressed into service.

Everything pointed to the same conclusion: Han Feibao intended to use the common people of Jing Province as cannon fodder.

The moment the Ning King’s forces launched their assault, he would drive the conscripted civilians at them. He did not care how many died. He cared only whether Li Chi could be beaten.

As Han Feibao himself saw it, the curses of the people were a temporary thing. Once he won and sat secure on the throne, who would dare curse him then?

Beyond these four powers, there were a few scattered forces in the south — but none with the strength to contend for the realm. The strongest among them fielded only tens of thousands of soldiers, hardly enough to challenge any of the four great forces.

Their thinking was probably all the same: *I’ll pull up a small stool, sit here quietly, and watch. Whoever wins, give me a piece of candy when it’s over, and I’ll call you Father.*

Of all the lands in the realm, Shu Province and Liang Province had suffered the least from the chaos of war, their people’s lives barely touched.

Liang Province’s military governor had surrendered directly to Yang Xuanji, and so there had been no fighting there — only some small-scale unrest from rebel bands.

Shu Province, as Yang Xuanji’s stronghold, had seen its people burdened with heavy taxes and levies, but at least they had been spared the ravages of war itself.

As for where the realm was richest now — nothing compared to Ji Province.

Ji Province had been thrown into chaos first, and had found peace first. Since the defeat of the Black Warrior forces, Ji Province had enjoyed several years of stability, the harvests were good, and the people lived well.

The Ning King had Ji Province as his foundation for the march south — in terms of supply, no one was more secure.

Han Feibao’s forces were battle-hardened, the Geling Army ferocious and merciless with almost no equal — but they had come out of Yong Province, with no secure home base. Everything they needed came either from plundering wherever they went, or from support sent from Shu Province — and Shu Province had nearly been stripped bare. There was little left to send.

—

*Ning Army Camp, Central Command Tent.*

Tang Pidi stood studying the map on the wall, a slight furrow in his brow.

“This Han Feibao — I think he’s learned a trick from our old friend Li Xionghu.”

Xiahou Zhuo said: “Driving civilians as a threat against the enemy… our scouts report that in the past few months he has seized no fewer than a million common people. Men from their teens to their fifties — virtually gone from dozens of provinces and counties in every direction. Hardly a man to be seen anywhere.”

He looked at Tang Pidi. “This man — if we don’t attack quickly, he won’t wait either. He’ll force a decisive battle on his own terms. He’ll drive a million innocents onto the field. If we fight hard, he’ll be the one calling us monsters.”

Tang Pidi made a sound of agreement, his gaze not leaving the map. He tapped it with the wooden pointer in his hand.

“We are here.”

The position he indicated was Wan Province — an ancient city of several hundred years, roughly three hundred *li* from Da Xing City.

He tapped another point. “Han Feibao’s forces are here.”

That was the region around Nan Province and Gu County — approximately four hundred thousand Yong Province soldiers, plus over a million conscripted civilians, all packed into that stretch of land.

Tang Pidi moved his pointer toward Da Xing City. “I’ve been thinking — what if we sent someone through Han Feibao’s lines and into the city? Made contact with Emperor Yang Jing. Is there any chance of success?”

Everyone looked at him, waiting for more.

“If it’s Han Feibao who breaks into Da Xing City, Emperor Yang Jing won’t survive. Neither will the Chu forces. And the people of the city will fare no better.”

At this, Yan Qingzhi — Advisor Yan — understood. He looked at Tang Pidi. “So for Emperor Yang Jing of Chu, the best possible outcome is precisely the one he himself proposed.”

Before the great battle, Yang Jing had proclaimed to all under heaven that he intended to abdicate the throne to the Ning King, Li Chi.

That was now known everywhere. Even if he truly handed over the throne, the people wouldn’t be too shocked.

Of course, Yang Jing had done this sort of thing before — he had also abdicated to Yang Xuanji, and Yang Xuanji’s reign had simply been rather short.

“Worth trying.”

Advisor Yan said: “If Yang Jing keeps his word and abdicates to our lord, the Yang family line would be preserved — their bloodline unbroken.”

Tang Pidi looked toward the tent entrance. “Keep watch. The moment our lord arrives, send word immediately.”

The assembled men let out a collective breath of laughter.

Tang Pidi smiled. “If our lord knew what we were discussing right now, he’d be on his way to Da Xing City himself before we could stop him.”

It sounded like a joke. But from the day Li Chi had raised his banner, when had the dangerous thing ever not been the one he threw himself into personally? Slipping into an enemy’s stronghold and taking a look around — had he done that too few times?

And with General Luo Jing gone — even if Li Chi said nothing, everyone knew. The next time something dangerous arose, he would go himself.

“A band of subordinates, plotting behind their lord’s back…”

Advisor Yan smiled. “We’re all traitors.”

The room laughed.

Dean Gao chuckled: “No matter. I’ve already sent Ning’er to keep him company and take him for a walk. They won’t be back for a while. Carry on.”

Advisor Yan said: “Whoever we send to Da Xing City must carry real weight. Otherwise Yang Jing will feel we’re not serious, and he won’t even agree to a conversation.”

He looked at Tang Pidi. “So — I’ll go.”

Xiahou Zhuo shook his head. “You can’t go, Advisor.”

“Why not?”

“You’re too old.”

Before Yan Qingzhi could respond, Xiahou Zhuo pressed on: “Your wedding to Miss Ruoling is already in the works. None of us is going to agree to let you go.”

“Going to Da Xing City won’t be dangerous — you and I both know that.”

“No one can say for certain what state Yang Jing is in now that the Wu Prince is gone.”

“You are all my students. If the teacher won’t go — then who will?”

Dean Gao said: “Why drag me into this?”

Advisor Yan: “But…”

The room erupted in laughter.

Dean Gao said: “You want to go, then go. None of this *the teacher must be the one* — using me as a wedge like that. Did I ever teach you that?”

Then his tone shifted: “That said — if I were the one to go, I would carry more weight than any of you. I have something of a name in Da Xing City, some standing among the scholars and literati there. The Chu Emperor wouldn’t truly do anything to me.”

Xiahou Zhuo said: “You’re even older.”

Dean Gao: “…”

Xiahou Zhuo said: “Let me work through it. Old Tang has to hold the center of the army — he absolutely cannot leave, agreed?”

Everyone nodded. “Agreed.”

“Whoever goes needs real standing, and can’t be entirely without martial skill — they need at least some ability to get themselves out of trouble. So the Dean can’t go. Agreed?”

“Agreed!”

“Advisor Yan’s wedding is imminent. And he manages the entire rear supply chain — without him, the logistics collapse. So Advisor Yan can’t go either. Agreed?”

“Agreed!”

Xiahou Zhuo stood up with a cheerful grin, pointed at himself, and said: “Weighty enough, able to fight, full of clever stratagems — and personally so compelling that people are won over before a word is spoken. Who else could it be but me?”

Everyone turned to look at him with the same flat expression.

Xiahou Zhuo said: “This is urgent — we need a decision fast. If we can get Emperor Yang Jing of Chu to surrender, we can use the Chu army’s forces as a second front, catching Han Feibao in a pincer. Han Feibao has a million innocents lined up to the north — but if I can bring the Emperor over, borrow some of his troops, and hit Feibao from behind, the Yong Province army will collapse.”

He smiled. “Which means — since I’ve come to that conclusion — I should also add that whoever goes needs to be able to command troops in battle. All things considered, there really isn’t anyone better suited than me.”

Tang Pidi was just about to speak when someone came rushing to the tent entrance, breathless: “Great General — my lords — our lord is gone.”

The announcement landed in the still air like a stone dropped into a calm lake, sending up a waterspout.

“Find him — now!”

Tang Pidi’s voice snapped out at once.

“We should have seen this coming. Whatever we thought of, how could our lord not have thought of it? He didn’t want any of us to go — so he was going to slip away himself.”

Dean Gao raised his hand and struck himself on the forehead. “I told Ning’er to keep watch on him… and forgot that Ning’er stands firmly on *his* side. No wonder she agreed so readily when I asked her, with such a sincere expression.”

—

At the same moment, several dozen *li* from the Ning army camp, the Censorate troops were galloping hard, following Li Chi and Gao Xining.

Their heading was southwest — first to loop around Han Feibao’s defensive line, then turn due south toward Da Xing City.

“When they figure it out, they’ll mobilize the whole army to drag you back.”

Gao Xining said: “Of all the people in this world who get chased back by their own subordinates — you must be the only one.”

Li Chi laughed and nodded.

When you said it out loud, it really was absurd — absurd enough that if you told it to anyone from another faction, they probably wouldn’t believe it.

The Ning King Li Chi, riding personally to Da Xing City to meet with the Chu Emperor. If word of this spread, there was no telling how many people would want to intercept and kill him on the road.

Li Chi had originally not wanted to bring even Gao Xining. But Gao Xining had said: *You can knock me out right now and go alone, but when I wake up I’ll come after you.*

He knew her too well to argue. He agreed.

For this trip to Da Xing City, Li Chi had brought the Censorate troops — after all, Dean Gao had assigned them to keep watch over him, so taking them along was perfectly convenient.

Besides Gao Xining, Chief 廷尉, there were Yu Jiuling and the four Senior 千办 of the Censorate, along with the sharpest fighters in the whole corps.

“Before we reach Da Xing City — do you want to find somewhere to change clothes first?”

Gao Xining asked.

“No need,” Li Chi said. “When we get there, I’ll say I’m Xiahou—”

Gao Xining laughed. “Why Xiahou?”

“Because when I think it over,” Li Chi said, “whether from our side or from Emperor Yang Jing’s side — the most fitting person would have been Xiahou.”

While the two of them were talking about Xiahou, Xiahou was back at camp, racing around frantically trying to find Li Chi.

—