This county town, barely a dot on the map of Shu Province, was receiving the most momentous gathering in its history.

The common folk thought it was a major jianghu affair — after all, the top three figures of the Horse Gang had all come.

But only the great figures themselves understood: compared to the age they lived in, they were still small players. Their greatness was confined to the southwestern corner of Shu Province alone. The most glorious moment of their lives would be spent in this little town.

The county yamén’s main hall looked oddly out of place now — once the domain of officials, it had been repurposed as the Horse Gang’s hall of assembly.

As the Horse Gang’s overall chief, Luo Jiuhong naturally sat in the seat of honor — the very chair once occupied by the county magistrate. That magistrate had been killed several months prior.

It was bitterly ironic: the person who had killed him might well be sitting in this very hall today.

“Elder Brother.” Sun Zuoyi, the chief of the Wolf Gang, looked at Luo Jiuhong with concern. “You must have worn yourself ragged these past days. Are you well?”

“My body is fine,” Luo Jiuhong said. “My spirit is spent.”

The moment those words left his mouth, everyone fell silent. They were from different gangs, but the dead were people they all knew.

Fourth Chief You Yuren in particular — the task of maintaining ties between factions had mostly fallen to him. Birthdays, New Year’s, festivals — he kept track of every occasion, personally bringing gifts or sending someone in his stead, never forgetting anyone year after year.

A man like that had died a wretched death in this county town.

Luo Jiuhong pointed at the floor of the hall. “Fourth Brother’s body lay right there just a few days ago. I kept watch through the night, sitting beside him, and I said: ‘Fourth Brother, the night is deep and quiet now — come back. Come back and tell me who did this to you, and I’ll avenge you.'”

Every person in the room instinctively sat up straighter. Whether their conscience was clean or not, at that moment, all their hearts trembled, just a little.

Mo Xiyan, chief of the Bear Gang, rose to his feet. “Elder Brother, hasn’t the matter already been investigated? I heard the killer was brazen enough to leave a message at the scene?”

He cupped his fists. “Everyone here was a close friend of Master You. Since he was murdered here, this revenge belongs to all of us.”

Sun Zuoyi said, “You don’t need to tell us that. We know ourselves.”

Mo Xiyan glanced at him — a glance that was not particularly friendly.

This gave Luo Jiuhong a quiet start. These two had arrived together; it couldn’t be coincidence without prior arrangement. He had even seen them riding side by side, laughing and chatting. Yet now they were putting on this display of discord. Nine times out of ten, it was theater.

Just then, Cao Lie entered with Ye Xiaoqian. Every eye in the room immediately fell on them.

In terms of Horse Gang seniority, no one ranked above Luo Jiuhong, so the seat of honor was his. But now that Cao Lie had arrived, Luo Jiuhong could no longer keep it.

He rose and made introductions. “This is the sworn brother of the Prince of Ning, come from Yu Province. His surname is Cao. Brothers, you may address him as Milord.”

Cao Lie was about to say something modest when Mo Xiyan cut across him with a long stride, planting himself in front of Cao Lie — yet not looking at him. He turned back to Luo Jiuhong instead.

“Elder Brother, please, keep your seat.”

Luo Jiuhong had already vacated the chair, but Mo Xiyan’s gesture threw the underlying tension wide open.

“Xiyan, don’t be rude,” Luo Jiuhong said. “Milord has come from afar as a guest. You cannot abandon courtesy.”

“He is no guest,” Mo Xiyan said. “At its root, he is an enemy of Shu Province. The Prince of Ning’s army has pushed into Shu; the common people suffer under Ning soldiers at every turn, countless dead in the chaos of war. Elder Brother may call him a guest. I do not.”

Cao Lie: “Hey kid, so you’ve got the guts to kill me, do you?”

Mo Xiyan blinked.

That wasn’t the speech of any respectable official. It sounded exactly like the blunt talk of the jianghu. That single “hey kid” even made Ye Xiaoqian behind Cao Lie snort with laughter.

“Well,” Mo Xiyan said, “Milord is certainly something. Filth straight from the mouth.”

“You call that filth?” Cao Lie said. “When I really get going, it doesn’t matter who you are — your entire ancestral line couldn’t take it.”

“Do you really think I wouldn’t dare kill you?” Mo Xiyan demanded.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Cao Lie said. “If you were going to kill me, why are you still talking? Psyching yourself up?”

Mo Xiyan was about to act when Luo Jiuhong stepped down from the seat of honor and moved to Cao Lie’s side. “Milord, please, take the seat.”

“One moment.”

Sun Zuoyi, the Wolf Gang chief, rose with a smile that never reached his eyes. “Elder Brother, even if this outsider is a guest, he shouldn’t be sitting in *that* seat.”

He crossed to stand before Cao Lie. He was half a head taller, and the look he gave Cao Lie was the kind that looks down.

Cao Lie met his gaze squarely.

More than met it — he proactively offered a greeting. Very politely, he asked Sun Zuoyi: “Excuse me, are you looking so hard because you’ve lost your father and you’re still looking for him? I think you’ve got the wrong person — I’m not in your father’s generation.”

He had just called Mo Xiyan “kid” a moment ago, which made Ye Xiaoqian stifle another laugh.

*Cao Gongzi, that’s impressive.*

Sun Zuoyi erupted at this. Mo Xiyan hadn’t moved, but he couldn’t hold himself back. His hand snapped to the hilt of the blade at his hip. Luo Jiuhong seized Sun Zuoyi’s hand before it could go further.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Luo Jiuhong’s voice was low and hard.

With Luo Jiuhong between them, Sun Zuoyi knew he had no opening — but if he let go of the hilt just like that, his dignity was gone. So the two men remained frozen: Luo Jiuhong’s hand not leaving, Sun Zuoyi’s not leaving the hilt.

Cao Lie turned to look at Ye Xiaoqian. “Have you ever seen something like this?”

“No,” Ye Xiaoqian said.

“I have, actually,” Cao Lie said. “Back home we kept a little dog, barely a foot and a half long. Weak, timid creature — but because it was *my* dog, it barked and carried on at everyone, straining at its rope like it wanted to tear free and bite someone. But the moment I actually let the rope slack, the coward went dead silent and hid behind me. Not so much as a squeak.”

When Cao Lie finished, Ye Xiaoqian thought: *Cao Gongzi, you absolute legend. You genuinely aren’t afraid they’ll kill you right here, are you.*

Even Luo Jiuhong’s expression shifted slightly. Though, in fairness, Cao Lie hadn’t called him a dog — at most, he’d implied he was the rope holding the dog.

Strangely, Mo Xiyan stopped being angry. Sun Zuoyi was getting the worse end of it now, which made him feel rather satisfied. He’d only been called “kid”; Sun Zuoyi had just been called a cowardly dog.

So Mo Xiyan patched things over. He pulled Sun Zuoyi back. “Brother, don’t lower yourself for outsiders.”

Luo Jiuhong added his own word, and Sun Zuoyi took the offered way out, releasing the hilt. He told himself the real moment was coming soon — he’d let this man off for now.

Cao Lie had always had a bit of a rascal streak, and years with Li Chi had elevated it to an entirely new level. So he was hardly going to deflate the situation. When he saw Sun Zuoyi’s hand leave the hilt, he let out a soft “pfft” of laughter.

Said nothing. Just that one short laugh.

But that quiet laugh, to Sun Zuoyi, was more unbearable than the insult about his father.

Ye Xiaoqian caught the flash of cold murder in Sun Zuoyi’s eyes and immediately stepped forward, hand resting on his sword hilt.

If Sun Zuoyi truly drew that blade, nothing else mattered — they’d sort it out right here and now.

Both Sun Zuoyi and Mo Xiyan had brought several thousand men who had already surrounded the county town. But in the immediate vicinity of the yamén, the Horse Gang’s numbers and the Ning Army’s numbers were roughly even. Under these circumstances, a fight here and now would be far more favorable than waiting for the Horse Gang’s full forces to close in.

So neither Cao Lie nor Ye Xiaoqian was afraid of it coming to blows.

Luo Jiuhong was.

He pulled Sun Zuoyi back. “Sit down. Whatever it is, we settle it calmly, sitting down.”

“I’ll sit,” Sun Zuoyi said. “But if Elder Brother intends to give that seat to anyone — it won’t be this outsider.”

He looked to the door. “Invite General Gao inside.”

The attendants outside parted to the left and right, and a middle-aged man who had been standing behind them stepped forward.

The man looked about forty. Ye Xiaoqian sized him up in one glance — the bearing of a career soldier was unmistakable. You didn’t need to see him fight. Just the way he walked, the look in his eyes, the set of his expression — years in the military, clearly.

Luo Jiuhong’s expression darkened. “What is the meaning of this?”

“This,” Sun Zuoyi said, “is General Gao, from the camp of Great General Yan Yusheng. He has come specifically to uphold justice for our Horse Gang.”

He shot a look at Cao Lie, then smiled coldly. “There are those who come to Shu Province and think no one can touch them — so they act without restraint and dare to kill.”

He raised a finger and pointed it between Cao Lie’s eyes. “There is no seat here for you.”

Cao Lie: “Who are you pointing at — your father?”

Ye Xiaoqian murmured in his ear: “That’d be his grandfather.”

Cao Lie affected a look of realization. “Oh… so why are you pointing at your grandfather?”

“Ha ha ha ha ha.”

The man called General Gao was walking in from outside, laughing as he came. “I thought the Prince of Ning would send someone decent, at least. Turns out it’s just a street thug.”

Cao Lie glanced back at him. “Laugh again and I’ll rip your tongue out.”

General Gao: “????”

Cao Lie: “Stuff it down *his* throat.” He pointed at Sun Zuoyi.

—