Huilang Bay, as its name suggested, was a harbor prone to surging waves. In conditions of strong wind and rough seas, the swells here could crash up high and far, and very few ships ever chose this route.

Which made the cargo ship racing toward it from the other direction conspicuously obvious.

The vessel was all but through the bay and into the boundless open sea when a line of swift red-horse boats converged from both sides and cut off its path. Close behind them, a two-decked warship drew near. Sun Qi and Gu Yanxi stood side by side at the bow, watching the two very different groups of men aboard the red-horse boats.

In contrast to the Shouya Pass soldiers standing steady as if on solid ground, the members of the Seven Lodges Bureau were all gripping the sides of the vessel — they could swim, but this was not their domain; they could not manage what the garrison soldiers did, moving on those boats as easily as walking on land.

“The Seven Lodges Bureau are extraordinary men — not many can adapt to a red-horse boat’s speed.”

Gu Yanxi shook his head. After this, that would be an area they needed to work on.

At this point, the cargo ship not only failed to slow — it accelerated and rammed straight toward them. Sun Qi gave a cold laugh. “Guilt written all over them. Chaoli tribe or not, they are no decent people. Capture them.”

The soldiers answered with a resounding response. Moving in practiced coordination, they fanned out — some casting hooks, others entering the water — and swiftly disabled the ship’s sails, oars, and sculls, leaving it dead in the water. Had this been their usual method, they would simply have bored a hole in the hull and the people inside would have had to come out on their own — but knowing this ship might be carrying silver or grain, they were not entirely free to act without restraint.

Then more ships appeared from that direction. Gu Yanxi, who had been keeping his eye on that side all along, said at once, “I would ask General Sun to send a vessel to make contact — those should be my people.”

Sun Qi nodded to his personal guard, who descended and boarded a red-horse boat that went out to meet them. Shortly after, they brought the ship back. Wang Hai was standing at the bow.

“They are my people.” Gu Yanxi stepped forward and gave the order: “Coordinate with the Shouya Pass soldiers to take the ship.”

Wang Hai acknowledged the command and moved with his men to close in. He had braced himself for a desperate fight, yet his master had outmaneuvered the enemy and was already waiting ahead — at last he no longer had to worry about failing to stop them.

But in this engagement, the Seven Lodges Bureau found little opportunity to contribute. Realizing they had been exposed, those aboard did not wait for anyone to board — they scattered and dove into the water on all sides, intending to escape by swimming. Born on islands, raised in the sea, they considered themselves superior swimmers and thought no one from Daqing could match them.

But these were not ordinary people from Daqing.

These were the Shouya Pass soldiers — men who trained in the water every single day. And they worked in seamless concert: if one could not handle an opponent, two would take over; if two still felt it uncertain, four would. They bound those Chaoli fighters underwater, trussed up thoroughly.

Gu Yanxi paid no attention to the captured prisoners. He went straight to the cargo hold the moment he boarded, and Wang Hai — who had received a signal and entered ahead of him — opened the nearest crate without a word. Whether it was the silver light reflecting back at him or something else, when he raised his head his eyes were gleaming. “My lord — our efforts were not wasted!”

Gu Yanxi stepped forward and took a look, then tilted his chin toward the rows of neatly stacked crates. “Open more.”

Wang Hai threw open crates in every direction — and what was inside only grew more astonishing. “My lord, come and see this!”

Gu Yanxi stepped across the crates to reach him. This one held gold bars.

Wang Hai flung open all the remaining crates in this section. Six of them were gold bars. Counting those together with the volume of silver in the hold, just imagining the total made Wang Hai’s spine go cold. They had intercepted this much tonight — but over all these years, how many shipments of this size had the Chaoli tribe already moved out? The more he thought about it, the more terrifying it became, and he could not help but look up at his master. As expected — his master’s expression was beyond what the word “grim” could describe. Of course it was; anything he could think of, his master would have already seen.

“Go interrogate them.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gu Yanxi swept his gaze down the row of crates and opened the one nearest to him — then another, then another. Not one was empty; all were packed to the brim. So much silver. The wealth of an entire city of Jinyang, all fallen into the hands of an enemy tribe — who would use it as a foundation to launch their assault against Daqing. A masterful scheme, and they had very nearly seen it through.

And the court of Daqing, at this very moment — what was it doing? It was probably all fixed on Jinyang, eyeing what they imagined to be ripe fruit. They would not know that the fruit had already been squeezed dry and reduced to pulp — one could only wonder if they would still be scrambling to claim it once they found out.

“My lord!” Wang Hai came running back. “All the Chaoli prisoners — they are dead!”

Gu Yanxi turned. The Chaoli people believed that after death, eighteen years later, a man is born anew a hero. They died standing, and those captured by the enemy had never once been known to take their own lives. So how could this be…

“This subordinate checked. Poison — they must have had it in their mouths when they entered the water, and bit down when they were caught.” Wang Hai’s expression was troubled. “The ones back in Songzhu…”

“Shao Yao is there.” That was the only hope Gu Yanxi could hold onto. He glanced back at the crates and said quietly, “Please invite General Sun to come in.”

Sun Qi was just outside, and he entered after only a moment. He looked at the open crates before him for a long while before speaking. “What can I do?”

“I need to take back a portion of the grain from before, and I will exchange it with the equivalent weight in silver.” Gu Yanxi walked to the gold bars, bent down, and picked one up to weigh in his hand. “All six crates of gold bars I will leave in General Sun’s custody.”

Sun Qi’s throat tightened. His eyes fixed on the head of the Seven Lodges Bureau before him. “Temporary custody?”

“I need to return to Songzhu immediately. I will ask General Sun to have someone escort this ship there — people will be waiting to receive it. Whatever draft the ship is riding at now, it must stay the same when it arrives.” Gu Yanxi set the gold bar back and lowered the lid. “General Sun — prepare for war.”

Sun Qi let out a slow breath. He gave Gu Yanxi a formal military salute. “Thank you for your integrity, my lord.”

“Having seen it with my own eyes, I now understand how much General Sun has given. From now on, I will do everything in my power to press for the provisions and pay — your soldiers will not find their legs going weak under the water.”

Sun Qi’s lips moved, but no words came out. This was all he had wanted, through all these years.

“A’Zhi once said that if you want a horse to run, you must first let it eat its fill. In the end, it is the Gu family that has been in the wrong toward the General.”

Gu Yanxi bent into a deep bow.

“Please, my lord, do not.” Sun Qi reached out to raise him. “As a matter of public duty, the Seven Lodges Bureau owes nothing to anyone. As a personal matter, it is I who must give thanks. My Sun family has only the Sixth Prince left as a thread of blood remaining in this world — it is through your efforts and the young lady of the Hua family that he has been kept safe. I know perfectly well where right and wrong lie. I do not know when I may have the chance to meet the Hua family’s young lady, so I ask my lord to convey a message on my behalf: the kindness she has shown the Sun family — the Sun family remembers it.”

“That message I dare not deliver.” A trace of a smile crossed Gu Yanxi’s face. “To her, Sixth Prince is simply one of her own who needs looking after — and now that he has formally taken her as his teacher as well, she only wishes she could pour everything in her head directly into him. A word of thanks would only feel out of place.”

Out of place, and far too light a weight besides. Sun Qi sighed inwardly. He could only hope that the grandson who carried the Gu family blood would remember this debt of feeling — and never let it change.