Within the Hei Wu army.

Kuòkědí Yèlán glanced at Xiao Ting and suddenly smiled. “Who do you think will win this battle?”

Xiao Ting smiled back. “The Hei Wu Empire, of course — invincible and supreme. Your Highness, wise and glorious beyond measure.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán said, “Is that the truth?”

Xiao Ting replied, “Of course it is. Who in this world can stand against a million Hei Wu soldiers?”

Kuòkědí Yèlán said, “I don’t believe those are your genuine thoughts.”

Xiao Ting said, “Your Highness, surely you don’t actually want to hear me say that the Hei Wu Empire is destined for defeat?”

Kuòkědí Yèlán asked, “Is that not what you truly believe?”

Xiao Ting replied, “I haven’t thought it through that far — but if Your Highness feels I ought to, it’s not too late to start now.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán’s eyes narrowed as he studied this bandit who was neither tall nor imposing. He had the feeling the man was nearly already dead — one word from him, and this bandit would die quickly and badly.

So he smiled and said, “Your Central Plains is full of wandering diviners who claim to see the future. Can you do that?”

Xiao Ting nodded. “A little.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán asked, “Have you ever read your own fortune?”

Xiao Ting nodded again. “I have.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán asked, “Good news or bad?”

Xiao Ting said, “Bad. Very bad. My reading says I’m bound for a miserable death — and an eternity of infamy.”

That was not what Kuòkědí Yèlán had expected. He’d been waiting for Xiao Ting to say something flattering — something like a glorious destiny — so he could laugh and say: *you got that wrong.*

Instead, Xiao Ting said he’d die badly and leave a name that stank through the ages. By Kuòkědí Yèlán’s understanding of Central Plains people, those eight words were about as vicious a curse as one could put on oneself.

How could any person look at his own future and pronounce such a verdict?

So Kuòkědí Yèlán asked: “Why would you think that?”

Xiao Ting smiled. “I was guessing. I’m no master of the art — maybe I got it wrong.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán had no patience for further conversation and lost interest in the man.

When Xiao Ting reached the Hei Wu camp, he began to understand: the vast and seemingly endless army he’d seen outside the Xue Fútu camp was not the whole force — it wasn’t even close. It was, if anything, a very small fraction.

This camp had no visible edges. An endless sea of tents that proclaimed the empire’s power.

And this was only the Hei Wu imperial army proper. The armies of Hei Wu’s vassal states and the various steppe tribes were not yet accounted for.

When Kuòkědí Yèlán saw the look of shock spread across Xiao Ting’s face, he smiled — genuinely pleased.

“Once this battle is over, perhaps you’ll have the chance to visit the capital of the Empire.”

He continued: “Then you’ll understand why the Hei Wu Empire has endured for a thousand years… If this campaign breaks through the Central Plains, then for the next thousand years, and the thousand after that, Hei Wu will remain the mightiest nation under heaven.”

He looked at Xiao Ting. “You should count yourself fortunate — for you have chosen to become a subject of the Empire.”

Xiao Ting bowed his head. “I am grateful for Your Highness’s favor.”

Kuòkědí Yèlán burst out laughing. The bandit, it seemed, really held no special interest for him.

Keeping this man was purely for leverage over Hàn Sān Zhōu.

“I’ll have someone show you where to rest. Before long, the Ning army will attack your camp — and then you’ll see how the Empire’s forces grind the Ning soldiers to dust.”

With that, he waved Xiao Ting away and walked toward the great command tent.

Xiao Ting was led away by a Hei Wu soldier, and he looked at everything around him as he walked — and the more he saw, the colder he felt inside.

Not only was the Hei Wu force immense in number, but the weapons and equipment on display chilled him. In one open stretch, row after row of crossbow carts still smelled of fresh-hewn timber.

A Hei Wu soldier brought him to an empty tent, told him not to wander, and left him alone.

Xiao Ting stepped outside the tent and looked in every direction. Every face bore the same expression — contempt.

The Hei Wu soldiers regarded him the way one regards a slave or a piece of livestock.

Xiao Ting exhaled slowly and murmured to himself: “Chief… why did you choose their side?”

War was coming, and nothing could stop it now. This battle would be written into the history books in the darkest, most indelible ink — whether in Ning’s annals or Hei Wu’s, both would record it in full.

For years beyond counting, the armies of the Central Plains had not dared meet the Hei Wu on open ground away from the fortress walls.

The outcome of this battle would reshape the order of the entire world.

One day later, out on the open plain, the Ning cavalry moved like a long serpent toward the Xue Fútu camp.

At the head of the column, General Gao Zhen raised his spyglass and looked ahead. The Xue Fútu stockade was not far now.

“General, something seems off.”

Wolfape Battalion vice-commander Fang Biechen lowered his own spyglass, unease creeping into his voice. “It looks like there are no bandits on the stockade walls.”

Gao Zhen nodded. He’d seen it too.

The Xue Fútu stockade was well-built — high, wide walls that could hold plenty of defenders. But a careful look revealed not a single figure standing watch.

It was as if the bandits had abandoned their defenses entirely.

Fang Biechen said, “Could they mean to meet us in the open?”

Gao Zhen shook his head. “Xu Suqing is a jianghu master, that’s true. But she’s not a proper soldier, and she knows it — which means she knows she has no hope of winning a pitched battle against us.”

The column halted about two li from the stockade. Gao Zhen raised his spyglass again for a closer look.

Not only were the walls unmanned, but the interior of the camp appeared empty as well. No formation of any kind.

He could see only one person.

At the Xue Fútu camp gate, Xu Suqing stood alone — as though she had been waiting for them for quite some time.

Gao Zhen rode forward. Fang Biechen, worried about an ambush, signaled the personal guard company and brought them along.

When they drew close, Gao Zhen called out to Xu Suqing: “Where are your people?”

Xu Suqing raised her head to look at him. She didn’t answer right away. Something complicated moved behind her eyes.

At last she asked, “Since you’re a disciple of Luo Jing, would you be willing to fight me in his name?”

Before Gao Zhen could respond, Fang Biechen grabbed his arm: “General — the battle is what matters. Don’t fall for a provocation.”

Gao Zhen gave a nod, then turned back to Xu Suqing. “We have an agreement. I’m here to fight this battle in the Grand General’s name — so I’ll give you the chance to get your forces ready. Personal duels can wait until after this stronghold is taken.”

Xu Suqing shook her head. “No need. My people have already left. It’s just me. You can order your archers to shoot me down where I stand — or you can dismount and fight. Though I expect you don’t have that kind of nerve. If Luo Jing were here, he’d probably have already gotten off his horse.”

Gao Zhen said, “You don’t need to goad me. If you want to fight, go assemble your troops.”

Xu Suqing suddenly laughed. “In that one thing, Luo Jing is no match for you. I said it just now — if it were him, he’d already be on the ground challenging me.”

With that, she turned and walked back into the stockade — as though the Ning army behind her didn’t exist at all.

Gao Zhen snatched up his iron spear and pointed it at her back: “Advance!”

The Ning cavalry began to gather momentum, ranks rolling slowly forward.

Inside the stockade, Xu Suqing also broke into a run, sprinting toward the wooden tower. She moved like she was skimming above the ground — her speed was breathtaking.

Gao Zhen saw her run and spurred his horse in pursuit.

Xu Suqing ran straight to the tower, wrenched the door open, and ducked inside. Gao Zhen and the Ning cavalry poured through the gate — and the camp was exactly as advertised. Not a single bandit in sight.

Gao Zhen cursed under his breath — *a pack of cowards, just as I thought* — and led his men toward the tower.

He dismounted, seized his iron spear, and kicked the wooden door open. He looked into the main hall.

Xu Suqing was standing beside a folding screen.

“A few things I need to tell you. Time is short — the Hei Wu scouts are watching from outside. Listen well.”

She said, “All of us spent our years out here in the northern wastes without ever doing a single decent thing. It was because this broken world punishes good people — if it doesn’t kill them young, it makes sure their lives are miserable.”

“We’ve had our comfortable years these past ten-odd… so we thought we’d try living differently for once.”

She looked at Gao Zhen and pointed to the table beside her. “There’s a journal on that table — a record of the cultivation methods I’ve developed. The things I taught Luo Jing are all written inside. You’re his disciple, so I’m leaving it to you.”

Gao Zhen’s expression shifted sharply. “What exactly are you saying? What are you trying to do?”

Xu Suqing said, “Nothing much. Just going to kill a few Hei Wu soldiers.”

Gao Zhen said, “Spare me the pretty talk. You murdered thousands of my border soldiers. That blood debt hasn’t been answered. You think a few words is enough to trick me?”

“So what if it isn’t?” Xu Suqing replied without a trace of guilt. “Great things require deaths. And once people are dead, they’re dead — do you think that troubles me?”

“I do what I want, when I want. I wasn’t trying to win any friends in your Ning army. A few border soldiers dying to earn the trust of the Hei Wu — why wouldn’t I do it?”

She continued: “Don’t follow me. What comes next has nothing to do with your people. This stockade is yours now. The Hei Wu will seal it in on all sides before long — hold out as long as you can. Good luck to you.”

With that, Xu Suqing turned and disappeared behind the folding screen.

Gao Zhen rushed after her, rounded the screen — and found the floorboards torn up. Where the tower stood, there was a large hole in the ground.

Gao Zhen had soldiers light torches and cover each other with repeating crossbows as they descended to investigate.

Who could have imagined it? Xu Suqing built this tower in this spot precisely to conceal a hidden passage.

And the passage was not man-made. It was natural.

Gao Zhen’s party realized soon enough: the ground here must have collapsed inward at some point, and someone had discovered it — because underground, there was a natural subterranean river.

They could walk along either bank. It was uneven underfoot but wide enough to move through without difficulty.

They pressed forward a stretch further — then a deep rumble rolled toward them from up ahead, followed by a rush of wind heavy with dust and smoke. The way forward had been sealed.

Gao Zhen led everyone back up to the tower, mind reeling.

He turned over what Xu Suqing had said before she left, and it suddenly came clear to him.

Xu Suqing and her people truly had no qualms about killing several thousand border soldiers — if it served their purpose, they’d have killed more. And they had used exactly that to earn the Hei Wu’s trust. At least in the period following their attack on the border, the Hei Wu would have believed in them.

But Gao Zhen could not work out what Xu Suqing intended to do next. Surely they wouldn’t attempt to raid a Hei Wu camp?

Or had he walked into a trap after all — Xu Suqing using the tunnel to escape while leaving Gao Zhen’s force stranded here, waiting for the Hei Wu army to close the noose?

Gao Zhen was thinking he needed to pull out immediately when a soldier burst through the door: “General — the Hei Wu! They’re coming from all four directions!”

—