Early summer had arrived. Shu Province’s weather was growing a little stifling.

The saving grace of this place, though, was that while standing in the sun felt unbearable, two steps into any shadow brought a cool breeze straight to the heart.

Cao Lie and Ye Xiaoqian did not go directly back to the Meishan camp. They went first to see Tantai Yajing.

Cao Lie stood now on a high ridge, watching the battle in the distance.

It was nearly decided.

The battle had begun the previous day. Mo Xiyan, Sun Zuoyi, and the others had assembled tens of thousands of Horse Gang fighters and marched, noisily but not seriously, toward the Ning Army’s flank. The ruse had worked perfectly — Shu Province’s Great General Yan Yusheng had taken the bait.

Through a night of fighting, the Horse Gang fighters made noise without committing — shouting, calling out, never actually charging.

But Yan Yusheng believed he had a two-sided pincer. He committed everything, leading over a hundred thousand men in a heavy assault on Tantai Yajing’s main force.

Tantai Yajing ordered his men to hold and give ground gradually — feeding the illusion that the Ning Army was failing under pressure from both directions. By dawn, he had pulled back a little further, deepening the deception.

At daybreak, Yan Yusheng thought the moment of decision had come and ordered a full assault.

But by then, the Horse Gang had already circled around to the Shu Army’s rear.

Tantai Yajing had given the Horse Gang strict orders: if he could win with noise alone, he would not have them fight. This was partly in gratitude, and partly to spare them a painful situation — because within the Shu Army were countless people with ties, real and complicated, to the Horse Gang.

If Horse Gang fighters truly charged into battle, they would find themselves face-to-face with old friends, people from the same towns, perhaps even kin. Under those circumstances, all manner of complicated loyalties could shift the outcome of the battle in unpredictable directions.

Instead, Tantai Yajing had Mo Xiyan’s column — laden with Ning Army banners — swing around and seize the Shu Army’s main camp from behind.

They planted Ning battle flags throughout the camp and raised a tremendous clamor. When dawn broke, the Shu Army’s morale shattered.

Their camp was gone. They were surrounded.

What they had believed was a trap they were closing around the Ning Army was in fact a trap that had closed around them.

With morale broken, their formation followed.

The Ning Army, which had been absorbing punishment through the night, launched its counterattack at dawn — and Tantai Yajing chose the exact right moment, with the sun behind his men. The Shu soldiers charged into the light; the Ning soldiers attacked with the sun at their backs. Even a small advantage matters.

After one devastating Ning offensive, the Shu Army began to crumble.

But with their camp gone, they had nowhere to run. They scattered in every direction.

From the hillside, watching the Ning soldiers sweep forward in the morning light like a flood breaking loose, Cao Lie let out a long breath.

*It’s a beautiful sight.*

Ye Xiaoqian sat nearby, plucking stalks of foxtail grass and braiding them into a small rabbit. Rather a convincing one, too.

“The battlefield is this grand,” Cao Lie said. “Why aren’t you watching?”

Ye Xiaoqian kept braiding, answering without looking up. “Being able to play with foxtail grass without a care in the world — isn’t that more beautiful than any battlefield down there?”

Cao Lie paused at this. Ye Xiaoqian’s words said what the Ning Army, fighting with its life, fighting to win the world, was ultimately trying to create.

“Yes,” Cao Lie murmured quietly. “Creating something beautiful.”

He set down his telescope and pulled a few stalks of foxtail himself, trying to copy what Ye Xiaoqian was making.

Ye Xiaoqian glanced at what Cao Lie had produced and snorted with laughter.

What Cao Lie had woven looked, from a certain angle, decidedly unsuitable for children.

“Should be almost over,” Cao Lie said, glancing toward the field again. Then he looked at his own creation and tossed it aside. “Boring!”

“Don’t throw it away,” Ye Xiaoqian said. “I think it’s quite interesting. I’ll weave a tortoise shell, and you can stick your thing on top of it. Very fitting.”

Cao Lie: “Get out of here…”

Just then, they heard the war drums sound from the Ning Army’s position.

Both of them stood and looked. Ye Xiaoqian had claimed he wasn’t watching — but at the sound of those stirring drums, he couldn’t help himself.

Then they realized: those weren’t drums of assault. That was the sound of victory.

Across the wide plain below, the Ning battle soldiers were striking their chest armor with the flat of their blades.

*Bang. Bang. Bang-bang.*

*Bang. Bang. Bang-bang.*

That sound was more stirring than any drum. Something in the body responded to it — something joyful that wanted to burst straight out through the skin.

Cao Lie let out another long breath and smiled. “With this battle, the southwest of Shu Province is settled.”

Ye Xiaoqian gave a quiet “mm.” “And we can go back and report to our lord.”

Cao Lie gave his own “mm” and spread his arms wide — as though embracing the whole world — and embraced the sweep of feeling inside him instead.

—

*One month later. The Meishan Camp.*

Li Chi and Xiahou Zhuo were watching the Ning soldiers drill when a messenger came riding hard from the northwest of Shu Province.

By now, nearly eleven months had passed since the Shu Army at Meishan had been surrounded by the Ning forces.

Eleven months was long enough for the Shu Army’s supply reserves to have reached a deeply worrying level — and still no relief column had come, still no good news.

The news Li Chi received now was not quite good either.

Shen Shanhu had sent word from the northwest: Shu Army Great General Li Sansheng and his forces were holding Yajing Pass with extraordinary tenacity, leveraging terrain of unmatched difficulty to hold the Ning forces for over two months running.

Yajing Pass was two separate fortifications — east and west — connected by a valley forty to fifty *li* long. Sheer mountain ranges flanked both sides. The Ning forces coming from the northwest had to take the western gate; Shen Shanhu’s forces needed the eastern gate to link up with Tang Anchen’s column.

The terrain was unlike anything else.

Within those forty-odd *li* of valley, the Shu Army had stockpiled provisions and equipment. More unusually, there was one wide stretch inside where the hillsides on either side sloped more gently — the only such place. And crucially, there was no way around from either direction.

In this valley, the garrison grew its own grain and kept pigs and sheep. It was nearly self-sufficient.

Shen Shanhu’s letter said: taking both heavily fortified gates would be very difficult. She would need more time.

Li Chi took up his brush and wrote back: no need to push for a quick victory against a strong fortress. If it cannot be taken, simply block the passes and sit tight.

Even if the valley could sustain itself, the garrison’s weapons stockpile could not hold forever. Apply unrelenting feint assaults — bleed them of their arrows.

He sealed the letter and had it sent to Shen Shanhu immediately, then looked up — just in time to see Cao Lie and Ye Xiaoqian return.

Before they arrived, Li Chi had already received two dispatches: one from Cao Lie himself, one from Tantai Yajing. Messengers always outpaced a column of men. The news that the southwest of Shu was settled had spread through the Meishan camp some time ago.

Yu Jiuling spotted Cao Lie coming and couldn’t help grinning. “My lord — you were right. He really has gotten fat.”

Li Chi laughed.

In Yu Province, Cao Lie had looked carefree and at ease, but his spirit had been suppressed. Not only because of the standards he held himself to, but also because of the trouble he had taken in sheltering the Martial Prince’s only son. With all of that gone now, of course the weight had lifted.

The crowd went to meet them, and soon laughter rang out.

But in the Shu Army’s Meishan camp, just across the way, there was only a dead silence.

Nearly eleven months now. Though Pei Jinglun had been disciplined about rationing and distribution, the reserves were beginning to make hearts uneasy.

Not the kind of unease that comes from imminent starvation — the food still had roughly half a year left, by careful calculation.

This was a different kind. Knowing precisely — not because the enemy told you, but because you had worked it out yourself — that you had exactly half a year before defeat arrived.

Pei Jinglun stood at the highest point in Meishan, his telescope trained on Meicheng in the distance.

He did this every day, hoping to see a relief force coming from that direction.

Each day, the hope did not survive to the next morning. He never became accustomed to the daily disappointment.

“My Lord.” One of his generals approached, his face dark — but then every face in this camp was dark.

“It looks like rain.”

The man looked up at the sky. “The rainy season is coming.”

Pei Jinglun gave a quiet sound of acknowledgment. His mood grew heavier.

This terrain at Meishan — what he feared most was the rainy season. When rain fell here in Shu Province, it could go on for two or three weeks without stopping. Under those conditions, the pressure on their earthworks would be immense.

“My Lord,” the man said, having hesitated long before asking. “The men below have been discussing — whether we should attempt to break through toward Meicheng.”

He watched Pei Jinglun’s expression as he said it.

“Break through…” Pei Jinglun smiled bitterly. “That’s exactly what the Prince of Ning Li Chi is hoping for.”

At those words, everyone around him fell silent.

Why was the Ning Army so well supplied? Eleven months — what the Ning forces had consumed in provisions and equipment was at least double what the Shu Army had. Perhaps more. Yet they showed no signs of strain. They could hold for another eleven months without difficulty.

Pei Jinglun drew his gaze away from the direction of Meicheng and turned toward the Ning Army’s camp.

After a long silence, he spoke — almost to himself.

“I will make a decision soon. I will tell you whether we hold on — or gamble everything on one throw.”