When news of the great upheaval in the county seat spread to the townspeople, they were thrown into immediate panic. True, they had never stopped cursing those corrupt officials as worthless scoundrels in everyday life—but now that every last one of them at the county office was suddenly dead, they felt a strange illusion, as though the adults of the household had all vanished at once.

People are probably all like this—which is why all living beings suffer.

And it was precisely at this moment that Prince Yu did something audaciously provocative. Had this act been reported to the court—reported to His Majesty—he would almost certainly have been arrested and thrown into the Imperial Prison on the spot, a charge so serious that no one’s intercession would likely have saved him.

With every official in Qianlie County dead, Prince Yu immediately appointed several of his household retainers as county officials on the spot. In more stable times for Dachu, this would have been a capital offense without question—this was not his enfeoffed territory; he had no authority to appoint or dismiss officials.

But Prince Yu was not testing the court. He was testing… Prince Wu.

He wanted to see how his elder brother would react upon learning of this—what he would think, and what he would do. So long as Prince Wu ultimately tolerated it, Prince Yu would begin taking even bolder steps.

He had long wanted to take bolder steps. But Prince Wu had arrived at a critical moment, forcing him to rein himself in.

Xiahou Zuo naturally understood what his father was doing. In fact, he had known for a very long time—long before now—that his father was not nearly as idle and easygoing as he appeared on the surface.

And that, too, was one of the reasons Xiahou Zuo wanted to get away.

“Let’s go.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at Li Diudiu. “We ate too much meat. Let’s take a walk and digest a little, see if there’s anything worth buying in town, then head back to the main camp.”

Li Diudiu knew he didn’t want prolonged contact with his father, so he nodded. “Alright, a short walk around. I am feeling rather stuffed.”

Xiahou Zuo said, “Be honest.”

Li Diudiu: “I’m feeling rather… overindulgent.”

The three of them left the county office and wandered aimlessly along the main street. The townsfolk, though rattled by such a dramatic incident, still had to get on with their lives. Not long after sunrise, the shops along the street gradually opened their doors, and the itinerant street vendors began to appear in growing numbers.

Li Diudiu and the others rounded a corner. There someone had set up a noodle stall. Xiahou Zuo asked Li Diudiu if he wanted another bite to eat; Li Diudiu asked what he thought he was—some kind of bottomless pit?

Xiahou Zuo said yes.

Oddly enough, Li Diudiu happened to glance over at the noodle stall and spotted the merchant they had encountered the previous day—the one selling the gyrfalcon—sitting there eating a bowl of noodles, plain and flavorless-looking. The merchant’s face wore several shades of worry. The small gyrfalcon was hunched in its cage, limp and drooping—probably half-starved to death already.

Li Diudiu caught Xiahou Zuo’s eye. Xiahou Zuo—being the scoundrel he was—immediately caught on, gave a small nod, and said deliberately loudly: “Wandered around all yesterday and didn’t see a single interesting thing. Might as well look again today. If there’s still nothing worth seeing, we’ll just leave.”

Li Diudiu said, “After all this walking, the only thing that caught my interest even slightly was that young falcon yesterday. Such a pity—following that fellow around, it’ll probably starve to death.”

Changmei strolled along and remarked, “Don’t talk nonsense. You think the man can’t afford to feed it? Don’t underestimate these hunting merchants. They’re not short of money—that’s why your bargaining yesterday got you nowhere. He’s a hunting merchant! Could a hunting merchant possibly let a young falcon go hungry?”

Li Diudiu said, “True—a hunting merchant, eating meat every day until he’s sick of it.”

Xiahou Zuo said, “We simply weren’t fated to have it, that’s all.”

The three of them drifted right past the merchant. The merchant had a mouthful of noodles in his cheek and stared at the three of them in bewildered astonishment as they went by, too stunned even to swallow.

*Are these three mocking me?* he thought.

But this sale couldn’t wait any longer—at this rate he wouldn’t have money for today’s meal. So he quickly jumped up and called out: “Honored guests, over here! Right here!”

Smiling apologetically, he said, “What a coincidence—fate!”

The three of them turned around. Li Diudiu, acting as spokesman, said: “Who are you?”

Xiahou Zuo thought: *that line wasn’t very convincing—the acting is a bit too obvious.*

The merchant hurried to explain: “We only just met yesterday! You three honored guests were looking to buy my young falcon, weren’t you? Yesterday I didn’t sell it, and first thing this morning we’ve met again—now that’s real fate! If I don’t sell it to you at a discount with a coincidence like this, Heaven itself won’t allow it.”

Li Diudiu said, “Heaven has no opinion on this matter. Are you eating? Then go eat—we’ll take a stroll around.”

The merchant took a few quick steps to catch up, smiling brightly. “In the spirit of fate, honored guests, name another price. I need to get back home and don’t want to be delayed here any longer. Give me a number—if it seems reasonable to me, I’ll sell it.”

Li Diudiu shook his head: “Can’t afford it.”

Xiahou Zuo shook his head: “Don’t feel like it.”

Changmei shook his head: “Not interested.”

With one of them saying *don’t feel like it* and another saying *not interested*, the merchant quickly worked out the situation. He stopped paying attention to Xiahou Zuo and Changmei and directed all his smiles at Li Diudiu alone.

“Yesterday’s price was yesterday’s. Today’s price is sure to be different from yesterday’s. Young master, just name a number—if it works, we have a deal.”

Li Diudiu said, “I’ll offer the same price as yesterday. Look at how vegetable sellers work: vegetables that were fresh yesterday aren’t fresh today, so they lower the price—if they don’t lower it, they can’t sell. Your young falcon was already not fresh yesterday, and today it looks completely wilted. And frankly, you look like you’re not as fresh today either… But I’m not going to lower my offer, because you said that word: fate. Maybe this young falcon and I really are fated.”

The merchant smiled bitterly. “Young master, one tael of silver can barely buy a fat goose these days.”

Li Diudiu said, “If I could buy a fat goose, why would I buy your falcon? Wouldn’t a fat goose be far tastier?”

The merchant shook his head with a long sigh. “Forget it, forget it. So the young master isn’t seriously interested after all. This thing absolutely cannot go for one tael—even if it starves to death in that cage, I won’t sell it at that price.”

Li Diudiu nodded. “Farewell then.”

He exchanged a glance with Xiahou Zuo. Xiahou Zuo gave a few deliberate coughs and said, “Look at you being so petty. The man said he’d give you a discount—at least ask what his new price is.”

He looked at the merchant. “Just tell us—how much?”

The merchant hesitated for a moment, then answered: “Fifteen taels. Not a single coin less.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at Li Diudiu. “See? He’s knocked five taels off for you.”

Li Diudiu said: “What? Down to five taels?”

The merchant, now somewhat flustered, said: “Fifteen taels!”

Li Diudiu said, “I know, I heard you clearly—no need to shout that it’s five taels. If it’s five taels… that’s still a bit high.”

Changmei said, “What do you mean, high? The man already said five taels—down from twenty, that’s a drop of fifteen taels. Still not satisfied?”

The merchant was beside himself: “FIFTEEN taels! Not five!”

Li Diudiu said, “Right—dropped by fifteen taels, not dropped by five taels. I heard you perfectly clearly. Look at you getting worked up. What’s the need for all that fuss?”

The merchant stood there bewildered for a good while, then turned to walk back. “I’m going back to my noodles. You three were just having a laugh at my expense.”

Li Diudiu laughed. “Deal. Truly, I apologize—we’re just a mouthy bunch…”

The merchant called back without turning around: “Five taels, I’m still not selling—I’d let it starve to death before I sold it at five taels.”

Li Diudiu said, “Fifteen taels.”

The merchant spun around sharply. Li Diudiu already had the silver out and held it toward him.

“We know what this is worth. It’s just that it’s very small and you haven’t been feeding it properly—there’s no guarantee it’ll survive. Fifteen taels, and it’s because we feel sorry for this little creature.”

Li Diudiu placed the silver in the merchant’s hand, went over, and lifted the cage. The young falcon instinctively shrank back—but it was so limp it seemed to have almost no strength left.

Li Diudiu carried the cage and walked on. Changmei sighed, “You spendthrift child.”

Li Diudiu smiled. “This is the first extravagant thing I’ve ever bought in my life… I don’t know why, but when I looked at this little thing’s eyes, I just felt it wasn’t meant for this kind of life.”

They walked along and found a butcher’s shop. They bought some meat, had the butcher mince it, and fed it to the young falcon bit by bit. The butcher glanced over and shook his head. “This thing is too young. People can’t raise it. Young master, you’ve probably been cheated.”

Li Diudiu just smiled and said nothing, but the young falcon seemed to have understood—it turned and stared at the butcher. Li Diudiu laughed: “See that? It’s glaring at you.”

They didn’t dare feed it too much for the first meal—just enough, and then a little water. After a while, the young falcon looked noticeably more lively.

The three of them wandered the streets a little while longer. Xiahou Zuo bought some furs, saying he was going home to have a new outer robe made for his mother to wear over the New Year, and also bought quite a few mountain goods and dried fruits to bring back for her.

The three climbed into the carriage and headed back to the main camp. This place had lost its appeal; neither of them had any wish to linger.

In the carriage, Li Diudiu produced a delicate little wine flask from his sleeve as if by sleight of hand and held it out to his master. “New Year’s coming—here’s a little toy for you.”

Changmei was completely baffled. He hadn’t noticed when Li Diudiu had bought it at all. In fact, while Xiahou Zuo had been selecting gifts for his mother, Changmei had felt a twinge of envy and something like wistfulness. But of course he had never blamed Li Diudiu for it—he had only thought: *what a devoted son Xiahou Zuo is.*

“You drink too much. This flask is small—just right. From now on, no more than one flask’s worth per day.”

Li Diudiu set the flask in his master’s hands, leaned back, and murmured almost to himself: “That old, and still not a moment’s peace.”

His master looked at the flask, then at Li Diudiu, clasped it between both hands, his fingers moving slowly over its surface.

“And one more thing…”

Li Diudiu said, “Most of the money I’ve earned these past days—I converted it to silver notes. Last night while you were asleep I slipped them into your coat pocket. Drink less, and when you do drink, buy something decent—stop buying that watered-down swill. As for your meals, don’t be so careless about them. One steamed bun and a flask of water for lunch—do you think I can’t afford to feed you? Who do you think you’re looking down on?”

Changmei raised a hand and rubbed his nose, chuckling: “What a rotten mouth on you.”

Li Diudiu narrowed his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

Changmei laughed even more freely at that.

Xiahou Zuo watched the old man and the boy, and found himself grinning foolishly along with them—for no reason he could name, he just started smiling, a dazed, silly kind of smile he didn’t even notice himself wearing.

—