Xinyuan.

Xu Ji knelt before Li Chi, and perhaps to appear especially humble, his kneeling posture looked somewhat awkward — his backside raised rather high, his head pressed very low. Setting everything else aside, just this pose alone was not something an ordinary person could manage.

“Rise.”

Li Chi said, “I believe I’ve told all of you countless times — there’s no need to always perform such formal obeisance.”

“Your servant has come to take leave of the lord. A formal bow is proper.”

Li Chi gestured toward the chair across from him, and only then did Xu Ji stand and sit down. His posture was upright, both hands resting on his knees, his upper body straight.

“Tell me honestly — when I transferred you to Yuezhou, did you feel any displeasure?”

Li Chi asked casually, leafing through the memorials Yan Xiansheng had compiled for him.

“Your servant did not.”

Xu Ji replied, “Even if the lord had not assigned me to Yuezhou, I had already made up my mind to request it myself.”

Li Chi smiled. “Why?”

“Your servant believes he has some capability, and therefore wishes to go where that capability can be put to better use. Jizhou is already stable and prosperous — in the two years I’ve spent there, I can honestly say I accomplished nothing of note. Your servant is not content with that.”

“Ha ha ha ha…”

Li Chi looked at Xu Ji. “There are many men who know how to speak, but those who speak better than you are precious few.”

He remarked, as if in passing, “There will be much for you to attend to in Chang’an in the future, so this time in Yuezhou I’m only giving you two years. If your abilities are exceptional and you put Yuezhou in order within one year, I’ll call you back in one year.”

Xu Ji quickly rose and knelt again: “Your servant will not betray the lord’s trust.”

Li Chi said, “Shuzhou is not easy to take. I estimate that pacifying both Shuzhou and Yongzhou will take at least two to three years. In those two to three years, if you manage the rear properly, you will have rendered the greatest possible service to the army’s campaign.”

Li Chi stood, drew something from his drawer, and handed it to Xu Ji: “I should have given you this long ago.”

Xu Ji took the plaque and looked at it — his expression immediately changed entirely.

Three characters were engraved on it: Marquis of Careful Trust.

Seeing Xu Ji about to kneel again, Li Chi extended a hand to help him up. “Once you reach Yuezhou, remember two things. First, don’t be too heavy-handed with the officials transferred from the north — local people have their pride too, don’t inflame tensions further.”

“Second, keep a sense of proportion when appointing officials. Don’t let the people of Jiangnan feel they’re being governed by northerners. Handle the balance yourself, at your own discretion.”

Xu Ji bowed: “Your servant will keep this firmly in mind.”

Li Chi said, “One more thing — Lu Chonglou is a talent. He won’t be in Yuezhou for long. After he helps you settle Yuezhou’s affairs, I’ll transfer him to Yongzhou. You two should get along well.”

“Understood…”

Hearing this, Xu Ji felt considerably lighter at heart.

So the Prince of Ning intends to send Lu Chonglou to serve as military commissioner of Yongzhou — that godforsaken place. He’ll never be a threat to me.

“Go.”

Li Chi said, “Jiangnan’s stability is the realm’s stability. The burden on your shoulders is heavy. Take care of yourself as well.”

Xu Ji expressed his gratitude once more and withdrew with a bow.

Leaving Xinyuan, Xu Ji was truly in high spirits — his very step seemed lighter and more buoyant.

In his heart he thought: the lord does trust people like us more. After all, we’ve followed him for so long.

—

Meanwhile, roughly a hundred li from Daxing City, in a small town along the road, Lu Chonglou’s convoy had stopped.

He had been ordered to travel ahead to Yuezhou, and was moving in haste, knowing he should arrive before Xu Ji to make certain arrangements.

They had traveled a hundred li straight out of the city, and had arrived at a small town just in time — men needed food and rest, and so did the horses pulling the carts.

The town had no government post-station, so Lu Chonglou picked a random inn to stop at — though calling it an inn was generous; it was really just a larger private residence.

After eating, he sent his men to rest and went for a walk alone, sorting through what the Prince of Ning had asked him to accomplish.

He had the habit of thinking through problems while walking alone — it was quiet, and highly efficient.

Before he knew it he had circled the small town once, and on his way back, he suddenly noticed what appeared to be a figure smiling at him from the shadows.

In that instant, Lu Chonglou felt his scalp prickle and burst open — the dread that had long lain hidden in his heart surged up like a great wave.

His instinct was to quicken his pace and leave, to get back to the inn, back to his men.

But after a few steps he stopped, his complexion already gone dreadful.

A moment later, Lu Chonglou changed his mind, turned, and walked toward the back of that row of buildings.

It was a row of dilapidated houses, no longer fit for habitation. Their original owners had likely fled as refugees; no one knew where they were now. Wild grass on the rooftops and wild grass in the courtyards seemed to be two armies locked in battle — and the rooftop forces had something of an advantage.

Behind this crumbling building, waiting for Lu Chonglou, was a young woman of ordinary appearance. Her dress and manner were no different from the village women around her.

But if one looked closely at her face, one would realize — where would a poor household in this town find money for such fine rouge?

The young woman saw Lu Chonglou follow her and, turning, slipped through a gap in the rear wall into the house.

Lu Chonglou followed inside, his voice slightly trembling as he asked: “Why have you come to find me?”

She turned to look at him, her tone carrying a touch of mournful sadness — but with a far more teasing undercurrent — as she said: “I’m your woman. Why shouldn’t I come find you?”

Lu Chonglou said, “I already told you last time — there should be no further contact between us. I gave you all the wealth the Prince of Ning bestowed on me. You should have left…”

The young woman laughed. “That wealth is no better than dung to me. If you want it back, I’ll give you twice as much.”

Lu Chonglou’s expression shifted. “So you were deceiving me all along.”

The woman laughed. “Only someone as guileless as you could believe the story of a learned young woman from a good family, fallen on hard times, encountering another fallen scholar in her misfortune.”

She smiled. “Although — the old wine from your little tavern was genuinely good.”

Lu Chonglou stared at this woman, his mind a tangled mess, as if struck by lightning.

That rainy night.

He had been standing at the door of his small tavern when he saw a beautiful woman collapsed outside, soaked through. He carried her inside and, with the last of his grain, cooked her a bowl of porridge — not too thin.

The story that followed was well-worn, yet warm.

The woman told him she had come from a wealthy family in the city. When her family fell, she had nowhere to go. The Chu emperor Yang Jing had once issued a decree to execute her entire household, and only her old servant had fought to smuggle her to safety. Not long ago, the old servant had died of illness, and she was utterly alone, with nowhere to go.

He took her in. His own days were no better, but at least there were still pickled radish skins, weren’t there?

She had no complaints, no airs. She was educated and refined, conversant with music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Most importantly — she was gentle.

And so, under the influence of two bowls of old wine, the two of them had become husband and wife… more or less.

The young woman watched the now blank-faced Lu Chonglou and smiled. “I don’t think you owe me anything. Though you were quite cold last time — the very picture of ruthlessness.”

Lu Chonglou suddenly said through clenched teeth: “I won’t agree to whatever you’re planning. Before, I was bewitched. Now, never.”

The woman said: “Then you understand — what one has once possessed becomes all the more painful to lose.”

Lu Chonglou said: “You can kill me. Even if I die, I won’t do anything to betray the Prince of Ning. The lord has been deeply gracious to me. I won’t follow any instruction you give me.”

The young woman said: “I couldn’t bear to kill you. After all, we did care for each other.”

“Step back.”

Just then, a voice came from behind the young woman.

She seemed to fear this person greatly and immediately bowed in acknowledgment, then withdrew to the side.

A middle-aged man in plain clothing stepped up before Lu Chonglou and cupped his hands: “My name is Jiang Wei. I’ve come from Shuzhou.”

Lu Chonglou’s eyes shifted at once, and he opened his mouth to shout for help — but before a sound came out, he heard one sentence that gave him pause.

“We have no intention of disrupting your career, nor of making you betray the Prince of Ning.”

Because of those words, Lu Chonglou swallowed his cry.

Jiang Wei said calmly: “Miss Ru knew of your great talent, and the original plan was to arrange for you to serve at the Prince of Ning’s side. By a fortunate turn of fate, you secured that position yourself — naturally, we would never ruin that for you.”

He paced around Lu Chonglou as he spoke. “The truth is, we did place great hopes in you, precisely because you were an outsider — not someone we had painstakingly cultivated, not an old retainer of the Prince of Ning’s. Your background is clean. As long as you remained at the lord’s side serving him, no one would suspect you. Our plan was to slowly help you, to let you achieve even greater ambitions.”

“We might even have helped you become Chancellor… And yet even when you had already gained the lord’s trust and the conditions were ripe to exploit, our people still chose to let go.”

Jiang Wei looked at Lu Chonglou. “I have a friend called Mo Lili. It was he who escorted the Chu emperor Yang Jing out of Daxing City. At the time his subordinates urged him to kidnap you in exchange for the Chu emperor — but my friend rejected the idea.”

“First, you had only just entered the lord’s service. You might not have been enough leverage against the Prince of Ning, and you might not have listened to us anyway.”

“Second, keeping you as a long-term investment was far more valuable than trading someone of your caliber for a Yang Jing.”

Lu Chonglou said: “Give up.”

Jiang Wei nodded. “As you wish.”

Lu Chonglou’s brow furrowed.

Jiang Wei said: “What I’ve just told you was meant in good faith — an explanation of why we’re meeting. Now, what I need to say is: I’d like to ask a small favor.”

Seeing Lu Chonglou about to refuse, Jiang Wei said: “Please hear me out first.”

He continued pacing, talking as he walked. “We have a traitor — someone who fled Shuzhou and made it to Daxing City. He must have entered the city just as you were leaving.”

“All we ask is that you help us capture this traitor and bring him back. Once you’ve done that, we will never trouble you again.”

“You want to serve the Prince of Ning, to put your talents to use — all of that can continue. We can disappear so completely it will be as though we never stood before you.”

Jiang Wei stepped up to Lu Chonglou. “And let me remind you of one more thing… Do you still remember those days when life was truly unlivable — when Miss Ru pawned the jade pendant her mother had left her, so that you could survive? Surely you haven’t forgotten.”

He looked Lu Chonglou steadily in the eye and said: “That jade pendant is, in fact, our Shuzhou camp’s badge of identity. All it would take is a quiet word to the men of the廷尉府 (Tingwei Office), and they would trace that pendant straight to you.”

He asked: “Are you acquainted with the Tingwei Office? Are you afraid of them?”

—