Across the entire northern region, people of every station were now talking about the frontier war. Officials, wealthy merchants, ordinary commoners — every single person was watching closely, day after day.

In one teahouse, for once no one was listening to a storyteller or a musician. Instead, everyone had gathered to discuss how this campaign might unfold. Even the storyteller himself had joined the crowd. People spoke all at once from every direction, while those listening nodded from time to time.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem,” said one merchant, lifting his teacup for a sip, speaking with calm assurance. “When have our Ning forces ever lost? Prince of Ning has long since made his arrangements. Everyone should keep their peace — sooner or later, the victory report will reach us.”

The crowd nodded.

Another merchant furrowed his brow, fell silent for a moment, then murmured: “I just wonder… whether the frontier soldiers have enough to eat.”

The words had barely left his mouth before everyone in the room went quiet.

The first merchant was silent for a beat before replying: “The Prince of Ning plans carefully and prepares thoroughly — the provisions should be sufficient.”

He raised his cup, took another sip, then set it down and rose to his feet: “But… better to have too much than too little.”

With that, he got up and left.

The second merchant who had raised the question of provisions also rose from his seat and hurried after him. The two walked side by side, still talking.

Before long, both men had made their way to a grain depot in the city. Each purchased a considerable quantity of rice and flour, then hired men from a local transport company to load it all onto carts and deliver it to the northern frontier.

As it happened, the transport company they found was Yongning Tongyuan.

When the workers heard the delivery was headed for the northern frontier — a gift for the frontier soldiers — not one of them was willing to accept payment. And they themselves pitched in to buy additional rice and flour to add to the carts.

Early the next morning, the first civilian supply convoy to make the journey from Jizhou to the northern frontier set out — twelve carts loaded with provisions and goods in all.

No one had trumpeted it or made any announcement, yet very quickly a wave of enthusiasm swept through Jizhou city.

The common people were less wealthy than the merchants and could not afford to buy grain outright — but every household had a reasonable store of grain set aside. One family could spare fifty jin, another seventy, and it hardly affected their daily lives. Ten or so households together could fill an entire cart.

Neighbors and townspeople consulted with each other — those with carts contributed carts, those with labor contributed muscle. Three to five men were chosen to escort each vehicle, and together they formed convoys that set out on the road.

It began in Jizhou city, but before long this movement to send grain to the frontier soldiers in the north had gradually spread across the entirety of Jizhou. On every main road, carts and horses headed north could be seen — and it wasn’t only grain. Cotton padded jackets, boots, insoles — the carts were loaded full.

A teacher from a public school stood at the roadside with his students, watching, waving to the passing convoys.

He told the children to remember moments like this. To remember people like these. Among those carts might very well be their own fathers — and every one of them was a hero.

He told them: when you grow up, if foreign enemies ever come to invade, you must be like your fathers — go and be heroes, not cowards who fall to their knees.

He also said: if all the people of our Central Plains can be like this, what enemy need we fear? What victory can elude us?

—

By early March, as the weather turned warmer, Li Chi left Shen Shanhu as the commander-in-chief, placing all the Ning forces in Yanzhou under her command to continue the fighting against the Bohai forces. All the troops Li Chi had brought with him were similarly transferred to Shen Shanhu’s command.

Xu Ji stationed himself at the Yanzhou prefectural capital to oversee logistics and coordination, ensuring the army’s supply lines remained unbroken.

Li Chi himself led the Tingwei Army and set out in haste for the northern frontier. Word had arrived from the north days earlier: the Black Wu forces had brought a host of at least one million soldiers to bear on the border — a scale of military pressure never seen before.

The one commanding the Black Wu forces this time was the Grand General of the Black Wu Southern Court — the celebrated Black Wu commander Yefu Lie. His standing within the Black Wu military was roughly equivalent to that of Prince Wu Yang Jiju within the Dachu imperial court.

Yefu Lie was nearly seventy years old and had already submitted his resignation to retire and recuperate at home.

Because this southern campaign was of critical importance, the Black Wu Khan-Emperor trusted no one else with it — not even with so many distinguished commanders in the Black Wu military.

He personally went to call on Yefu Lie, bestowed upon him a ducal title, and Yefu Lie, unable to refuse such sincerity from his sovereign, agreed to take command.

The entire plan for this coordinated assault — joining forces with the Sang people and the Bohai forces to strike simultaneously — had originated with Yefu Lie.

Even a figure of such rank as Prince Kuokedi Dashi had to defer to Yefu Lie’s command on this southern campaign.

After Dashi returned to Black Wu, he gave Yefu Lie a thorough account of the situation in Yanzhou.

After lengthy deliberation, this celebrated commander of the Black Wu Empire reached his conclusion: the Bohai forces in Yanzhou could accomplish little further; at most they would tie down a portion of Prince of Ning Li Chi’s military strength. The Black Wu army could no longer place any hope in the Bohai side.

One million Black Wu troops marching south — this was the largest-scale southward campaign by the Black Wu people in nearly two hundred years.

With the Central Plains in the midst of internal strife, the Black Wu people had to make gains. The Black Wu Khan-Emperor’s decree was clear: aim for the conquest of the Central Plains in this southern campaign. At the very least, secure the northern region of the Central Plains — Jizhou, Youzhou, and Yanzhou.

In the central and southern parts of Jizhou, March had already brought warm weather. But here on the northern frontier, it was still cold enough for water to freeze solid on contact with open air. True warmth would not come until at least the sixth month — and even then it only stayed warm for roughly four months; by the tenth month, temperatures here already matched deep winter in other regions.

By the time Li Chi made his way from Yanzhou to the northern frontier, Xiahou Zuo’s forces had long since arrived at Beishan Pass. With Xiahou Zuo’s return, command of military affairs here naturally reverted to him as well.

Truthfully, once the frontier soldiers heard that General Xiahou had returned, the confidence in their hearts doubled on the spot.

The garrison commander of Beishan Pass was a young man — someone Xiahou Zuo himself had personally promoted. His name was Ji Donting, twenty-three or twenty-four years old, currently holding a rank of senior fourth-grade general.

When Xiahou Zuo arrived at Beishan Pass, the generals responsible for holding Youzhou were there as well — all of them old subordinates of his.

Xiahou Zuo glanced at Ji Donting, raised a hand, and gave him a pat on the chest: “You’ve grown, lad.”

The whole group burst into laughter.

Ji Donting smiled and replied: “At my age, it’s only natural.”

Xiahou Zuo: “I’d advise you to mind your manners.”

Ji Donting: “The General Commander started it.”

Another of Xiahou Zuo’s old subordinates, Pei Chengqi, laughed: “The General Commander’s people — not a well-behaved one among them.”

Xiahou Zuo replied: “Don’t pin that on me without cause. Whatever you lot are like has nothing to do with me — if you’re undisciplined, that’s something you were born with.”

Pei Chengqi said: “If the General Commander puts it that way, I’ll go home and bring it up with my parents, and even they won’t own to it.”

Everyone laughed again.

Xiahou Zuo walked up onto the city wall. On either side, soldiers raised their right arms in military salute one after another. Every face that looked upon Xiahou Zuo shone with a kind of light.

As he walked, Xiahou Zuo remarked: “You lot — when you look at me, your eyes light up like that. Seems happier than you’d be looking at a woman.”

A soldier called out with a laugh: “Reporting to the General Commander — what woman could compare? Pretty girls and young wives are all treasures, but none of them hold a candle to the General Commander!”

Xiahou Zuo: “Nonsense… I can’t very well give birth for you.”

Another soldier shouted: “General Commander, let us give birth for you!”

Xiahou Zuo stumbled slightly.

He glared at the group: “Every last one of you — just looking at you makes my blood boil.”

He climbed to the top of the wall and extended a hand. His personal guard passed him the spyglass.

He raised it and looked into the distance. The Black Wu encampments lay some twenty li beyond the city — a dense forest of tents. From afar, they looked like countless great mushrooms sprouting from the earth.

“Are we certain the one in command is Yefu Lie?”

Xiahou Zuo asked.

Ji Donting replied: “Certain. General Commander — look at their central formation’s banner. The banner bears the device of a soaring eagle clutching a deer.”

The soaring eagle clutching a deer was a symbol unique to Yefu Lie’s identity — a mark of glory conferred upon him by the previous Black Wu Khan-Emperor.

Among all the great clans of Black Wu, only the Yefu Lie clan bore a banner personally bestowed by the Khan-Emperor.

“That old bastard is not easy to deal with.”

Xiahou Zuo asked: “Ji Donting — tell me, how would you go about taking him down?”

Ji Donting replied: “Yefu Lie commands with extreme caution, and he has a million soldiers behind him. Killing him outright won’t be easy — but he’s getting on in years. Outlasting him until he dies of old age might not be so difficult.”

Xiahou Zuo shot him a sideways glance.

That said, the million-strong Black Wu army was composed almost entirely of elite soldiers from the Southern Court — each one battle-hardened and formidable.

So killing Yefu Lie in combat was indeed close to impossible. Waiting him out until he died of age really might be the more practical path — after all, Yefu Lie was almost seventy.

“Go — ask the soldiers below if any of them can paint.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “You have three days. Paint me a large picture of a deer trampling a soaring eagle, and hang it on the outside of our city wall.”

Pei Chengqi immediately acknowledged the order: “I’ll take some men and see to it at once. I myself have a decent enough hand at it — though my technique is a bit rough.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Just don’t paint me a dog stepping on a chicken.”

He turned to his personal guard: “Go raise my battle banner. Let the Black Wu people know I’m back.”

“Yes, sir!”

The guard accepted the order. Before long, Xiahou Zuo’s war banner was rising slowly up the walls of Beishan Pass.

At that very moment, the Black Wu Empire’s veteran commander Yefu Lie was leading a group of his men on a reconnaissance of the terrain — at a position no more than six or seven li from Beishan Pass.

The cluster of generals large and small were all following behind him. A scout spotted the banner going up on Beishan Pass and reported it immediately. Yefu Lie raised his spyglass to look carefully, then the corner of his mouth curved into a faint smile.

He lowered the spyglass. Yefu Lie smiled and said: “My young friend has returned. Xiahou Zuo… if you hadn’t come to hold this Beishan Pass, I would have found the whole affair lacking a certain flavor.”

Among his assembled commanders, every one of them knew the name of Xiahou Zuo. The Black Wu people may have held Central Plains folk in contempt — but for those skilled commanders of the Central Plains frontier armies, they held a guarded respect.

Xiahou Zuo, for instance, had crossed paths with the Black Wu forces so many times over the years that his name had long been a permanent fixture on the wall of the Black Wu Ministry of War.

“General Commander,” a Black Wu officer asked, “Xiahou Zuo’s sudden return means the Ning forces are already prepared. Should we not launch our attack early? Otherwise, Ning reinforcements may keep arriving. These Ning soldiers are even more formidable in battle than the Chu forces were.”

“No hurry.”

Yefu Lie said: “I am waiting for something. When it arrives, it will give my young friend Xiahou quite a surprise.”

Everyone grew curious — what could the commander be waiting for?

“Send someone to Beishan Pass with a message. Tell them that tomorrow at noon, I will be waiting ten li outside Beishan Pass, and I would like General Xiahou to come share a drink and play a game of chess with me.”

After issuing this instruction, Yefu Lie asked his men: “The Central Plains game of weiqi — does anyone here know how to play?”

The group looked at one another. No one responded.

“The lot of you…”

Yefu Lie urged his horse forward: “Let’s head back.”

As he rode, he said: “You must make a greater effort to study the ways of your enemy — whatever it may be, strive to understand it as much as possible. Weiqi is a most fascinating thing. When you get back, you should learn it too. The Central Plains people have a saying: know yourself and know your enemy, and you will not be imperiled in a hundred battles.”

The group quickly acknowledged.

“Chess will reveal many truths to you — it will also teach you the art of military strategy.”

Yefu Lie glanced back toward Beishan Pass: “If I were a few decades younger, perhaps I would disguise myself and slip inside — and make a real friend of Xiahou Zuo.”

—