The name Wuming Mountain made Xiahou Zuo’s eyes go slightly wide, because Wuming Mountain was not particularly far away.

It had been so long since anyone had gone out beyond the pass in that direction that the exact distance was uncertain. Even Xiahou Zuo had only heard it was roughly a hundred li — when in fact Wuming Mountain was barely eighty li from Beishan Pass.

Nearly a century had passed without Central Plains people setting foot there, yet the name Wuming Mountain was not unfamiliar to the border soldiers.

Going out from Beishan Pass and heading northeast would take you to Wuming Mountain. Hearing Li Chi mention the name, Xiahou Zuo found it almost incomprehensible — those Chile who had barely escaped with their lives would dare return to somewhere that dangerous?

Wuming Mountain was less than a hundred li from Beishan Pass. How far could it possibly be from the Black Wu camp? About the same distance, give or take.

“You mean the Chile would actually risk hiding at Wuming Mountain?”

Xiahou Zuo asked.

Li Chi said: “If it were me, I’d choose it. The terrain around Wuming Mountain is rugged and wild, practically uninhabited. There’s water in the mountains, game in the forests — lying low for a while would be no problem.”

“And besides — they most likely broke out in the direction of the northwest at first. Black Wu will be pursuing northwest. If those Chile thought to use a feint, sending a detachment to draw the pursuit away and then doubling back to Wuming Mountain by a different route, the Black Wu wouldn’t catch on. They’d never think to look somewhere that close.”

“And furthermore…”

Li Chi looked toward Xiahou Zuo: “If they intend to ask us for help, Wuming Mountain is the most sensible place. They’d need to think about how to enter the pass, after all.”

Xiahou Zuo nodded: “If that’s truly the case, then the Chile chieftain must be a man of considerable ability and foresight.”

Li Chi: “That’s a roundabout way of praising me. I think the effect could stand to be a bit stronger — I’m quite capable of accepting more.”

Xiahou Zuo: “Ptch! Is that me praising you in a roundabout way? That’s you using a roundabout way to fish for praise. No — that is a *theft* of praise.”

“Wuming Mountain…”

Yu Jiuling looked toward that faint mountain outline in the distance. Something about the name felt familiar, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

Seeming to notice what Yu Jiuling was thinking, Xiahou Zuo walked over and quietly explained.

“A few years back, Chu launched a northern campaign. Dozens of divisions were nearly wiped out to the last man at the foot of Wuming Mountain.”

Hearing that, Yu Jiuling felt a sudden pang in his chest.

If not for that catastrophic defeat, Chu might not have accelerated its own collapse — leading to the uprisings that followed across the land.

The grandfather of the current Emperor Yang Jing had been so thoroughly mediocre, so genuinely foolish, yet so staggeringly arrogant. He believed himself to possess talent rivaling Chu’s founding emperor and wanted to build undying glory for himself — so he led a personal northern campaign.

Those hundreds of thousands of Chu’s finest soldiers were destroyed. Chu was robbed of its foundational pillar at a stroke. And even then the man refused to accept defeat, contemplating a second campaign — raising taxes and tribute to ruinous levels, which finally drove the people’s resentment to the breaking point.

“In truth…”

Xiahou Zuo stretched out a hand and pointed north: “Chu’s original northern border wasn’t here. It was much farther north — a place called Luojia Lake.”

Yu Jiuling asked: “How far away?”

Xiahou Zuo shook his head: “I’m not sure exactly — probably well over a thousand li, maybe two thousand.”

Back in that era, the Meng Empire had just been toppled by Chu, and the Chu army was at the apex of its power — fierce, battle-hungry. Under the founding emperor’s personal command, as they pursued the retreating Meng forces, the Chu army drove north in a single surge all the way to Luojia Lake.

The founding emperor watered his horses on the shores of Luojia Lake and had a great banner of Chu planted at the water’s edge, declaring it the northern frontier of Chu.

But that glory did not last. The Black Wu won battle after battle, reclaiming that vast stretch of land. In the several hundred years of Chu’s history, there had been three attempts to recapture the lost territories — and all three ended in defeat.

The founding emperor’s proud declaration at the shores of Luojia Lake had ultimately come to nothing.

*I will build a frontier city on this land,* the founding emperor had proclaimed, pointing northward, *to assert sovereignty and stand as a bulwark against northern defilement.*

The grandfather of the current Emperor Yang Jing had mimicked the founding emperor, pointing northward and declaring: *What the founding emperor could not accomplish, We shall accomplish.*

But where the founding emperor had been a man of great ambition cut short, this man was only pitiably foolish.

Thinking of all this, Xiahou Zuo could not help but feel a stir of feeling in his chest.

Just then, several horses appeared in the distance, riding hard toward them at tremendous speed.

Li Chi raised his spyglass and looked — judging by the riders’ dress, he had a good idea who was coming.

Roughly half a two-hour watch later — inside the general’s command hall in the city.

The Chile chieftain Bulegedì had clearly not received proper treatment for his wounds — having ridden hard on top of that, he looked deathly pale and exceptionally weak. Yet he made every effort to stand straight, showing his respect for his host.

“Honored Prince Ning.”

Bulegedì placed a hand on his chest and bowed deeply.

With his head lowered, he said: “I am Bulegedì, Great Khan of the Chile. I have come uninvited today—”

Before he could finish, Li Chi gestured toward a chair beside him: “Sit and speak. You look to be seriously wounded.”

Bulegedì quickly said: “I’ll remain standing to speak — I would not dare sit in Prince Ning’s presence.”

Li Chi said: “Whether you stand or sit will not affect my judgment of your people. Besides — I wasn’t looking to hear much from you anyway.”

Bulegedì’s expression visibly shifted. The Prince’s manner unsettled him.

He had no choice but to sit, turning over in his mind how to begin.

Li Chi studied him for a moment, then looked toward Yu Jiuling: “Have the physician come in.”

Yu Jiuling answered and stepped out.

Shortly after, the physician entered. Li Chi looked toward Bulegedì and told the physician: “His wounds are serious. Even through changed clothes, the smell of blood hasn’t faded. See to him.”

The physician bowed and moved toward Bulegedì. Bulegedì’s two attendants instinctively moved to block him — they were wound tight as bow strings, trusting nothing, not knowing what Prince Ning’s intentions were.

“Thank you, Prince Ning.”

Bulegedì expressed his thanks first, then gestured for his attendants to stand aside.

He removed his upper garment himself, revealing the crisscrossing welts that covered his body — every one of them split open, the flesh gaping, a sight that was difficult to look at directly. On either side of his shoulders were large bloody holes — clearly left by the iron chains that had been run through him.

The sight of those wounds left even Yu Jiuling and the others momentarily speechless.

Even Yu Jiuling, who did not particularly care for the Chile, found himself with no choice but to feel a measure of respect for the man.

An ordinary person with wounds like those would have been flat on their back long ago.

By the time the physician had finished treating the wounds, more than half a two-hour watch had passed — the sheer number of injuries meant each one had to be handled with care.

Bulegedì sat perfectly upright throughout, his back straight, sweat streaming down his face without pause, yet never uttering a single sound of pain.

Everyone present knew what it felt like to have wounds cleaned with medicinal spirits — and knowing that, they could sense something of Bulegedì’s character.

When the last wound had been treated, Bulegedì’s face was as white as paper — yet he rose, bowed to the physician in thanks, and bowed to Prince Ning in thanks.

“I am deeply grateful for Prince Ning’s grace.”

Bulegedì stepped back several paces, then dropped suddenly to his knees. His two attendants were startled and moved to help him up. Bulegedì shook his head: “Kneel with me.”

The two attendants immediately knelt — a testament to Bulegedì’s authority.

“Prince Ning.”

Bulegedì said: “I know well that injury and suffering cannot be soothed by time. I know well that humiliation and disgrace cannot be healed by time. I know well that hatred and enmity cannot be worn thin by time. The Chile tribe’s ancestors committed grievous wrongs against the Central Plains people beyond measure. As Great Khan of the Chile, I am willing to answer for those wrongs.”

He kowtowed. His two attendants kowtowed with him.

Li Chi made no move to stop him. He wanted to see clearly how much of this man’s feeling was genuine, and how much was performance.

Bulegedì continued: “I also know well — if a few words of apology spoken aloud were thought to be enough, that would be an insult to the people of the Central Plains.”

He said this and kowtowed again — and each time, his forehead struck the ground with force. His attendants the same.

Bulegedì said: “I only ask that Prince Ning accept my people through the pass. Every member of my tribe is willing to serve Prince Ning, generation upon generation. And I — am willing to answer personally for the wrongs my Chile forebears committed.”

He knelt there, and as he straightened his upper body, something had appeared in his hand — a short blade, no one had seen where it came from.

“I offer my blood as a tribute to the Central Plains people who were harmed centuries ago — though it cannot make even the smallest amends, it may at least show the sincerity of my intent.”

Having said this, Bulegedì drove the blade toward his own heart.

Li Chi still didn’t move. He didn’t even speak.

The blade plunged toward Bulegedì’s chest — showing not the slightest deceleration.

Then the blade flew from his hand and *thunked* into a pillar some distance away.

Bulegedì froze. He looked toward Prince Ning. Prince Ning still sat composed in his seat.

Bulegedì had not even seen anyone move — had not sensed how the blade had left his hand.

Standing behind Prince Ning were a man and a woman. The man appeared to be around forty, with an honest, weathered face like a farmer’s. The woman was harder to place — she might have been barely twenty or already thirty, with a somewhat unusual quality about her.

Neither of them appeared to have moved. Yet both wore the faint trace of a smile.

At another position beside Prince Ning stood a scholar in a blue robe — roughly thirty, with a refined bearing. He also seemed not to have moved.

By the doorway, a middle-aged man in a grey changshan stood gazing outward, seemingly lost in thought, his back to the room. That couldn’t have been him either.

Bulegedì couldn’t tell who had done it — which was exactly right.

The two people standing behind Prince Ning were Xuanwu, Sun Guiyin, and Zhuque, Nihong. The one standing to Prince Ning’s side was Qinglong, Su Ruye.

The one standing in the doorway with his back to them, seemingly staring into space, was Chu Xiansheng.

All of them had come to the northern frontier to hold back the Black Wu invasion. Chu Xiansheng in particular — if it had been Ning Army fighting Chu Army, he might have stepped aside and left. But when Ning Army was fighting an outside enemy, he could not stay away.

These four — if Bulegedì couldn’t tell who had moved among them, was that not perfectly natural?

And that was before accounting for Ye Xiansheng standing by the bookshelf, or the four Tingwei commanders standing to either side — none of them were ordinary mortals.

A room full of people like this — if they were all to go wandering the martial world together, it would be nothing short of a crushing mismatch against everything they’d encounter.

“Entry through the pass can wait for now.”

Li Chi looked toward Bulegedì and said: “Three things. Do them, and then we talk about the pass.”

“First — you and your people will garrison Wuming Mountain. All provisions and supplies will be provided by me, and I will also send people to assist you in building a stronghold there.”

“Second — if the Black Wu do not withdraw and resume their assault on Beishan Pass, your cavalry must harass the Black Wu forces from the flank.”

“Third — if the Black Wu launch a heavy attack on Wuming Mountain, I will bring troops to relieve you. Both sides must support each other without fail.”

He looked at Bulegedì: “Can you accept this?”

Bulegedì was silent for a moment, then nodded heavily: “I can.”