Below Mei Mountain. The Ning Army camp.
Li Chi kept his forces still. And the longer he held still, the more anxious and worn down the Shu Province army in the Mei Mountain fortress became.
They had made every preparation, braced for the Ning Army’s assault — and that resolve, that spirit of fighting with their backs to the wall, was being ground away with every passing day of waiting.
Not only did the Ning Army fail to attack, they spent their days in the camp below playing and laughing. Sounds of merriment drifted up to Mei Mountain at regular intervals.
The Shu Province soldiers looked down each day to see the Ning Army organizing games of cuju and polo, or gathering around to cook meals together.
Watching scenes like that once was enough to sting. Watching them day after day — the sting kept getting worse.
Pei Jinglun, the main commander of the Mei Mountain fortress, had been named Crown Prince — but for him, this was perhaps not the blessing it might have seemed. The moment he’d imagined for this announcement had always been in Da Xing City. That would have been a true Crown Prince. Not this — a man holding a lonely mountain.
From the Ning Army’s movements, Pei Jinglun had confirmed it: his deductions were becoming more accurate by the day. The Ning Army’s surface-level stillness only meant they weren’t in a rush to take Mei Mountain fortress or Mei City. Elsewhere, they were almost certainly advancing like a knife through water.
On New Year’s Day, the Ning Army camp erupted in drums and festivity.
Looking down from the heights, you could even see Ning Army soldiers walking on stilts and doing yangge dances. The crack and pop of firecrackers drifted up from below, making the silence of Mei Mountain feel all the more stark.
If the Ning Army camp hadn’t been so lively, the Shu Province soldiers on Mei Mountain might not have felt it so keenly. Their supplies were adequate — they wouldn’t go hungry. And with the Ning Army not attacking, they didn’t have to worry about dying in battle.
But by contrast, a weariness of war was quietly spreading through the Shu Province ranks.
—
In the Ning Army camp.
For the New Year, Li Chi and his men celebrated together with the soldiers. Xia Hou Zhuo ran off to wrestle with the troops — Li Chi had declared that anyone who could win ten matches in a row would receive a special reward, and Xia Hou Zhuo, apparently, could not resist that prospect and had joined in.
As Yu Jiuling put it: these days, Xia Hou’s eyes light up the moment there’s a prize to be had.
Li Chi told him: before you talk about Xia Hou, maybe dim the light in your own eyes first.
Yu Jiuling said he and Xia Hou were completely different — he was a man whose salary had been docked for a hundred years, which made his gleaming eyes perfectly reasonable, whereas Xia Hou’s gleaming eyes were just shameless.
Li Chi said: if you could fight, you’d have shoved him out of the way faster.
While they were joking around, a messenger arrived at camp — from Tantai Yajing.
Li Chi unfolded Tantai Yajing’s letter and read it, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. While things were at a standstill here, Tantai’s campaign was going beautifully — from the moment the forces split off to now, barely a month and a half, Tantai had already taken seven or eight hundred *li* of territory.
At this pace, by early summer of next year, Tantai would be leading the army home in triumph.
That was, admittedly, a while away — compared to Liu Ge, it didn’t look so fast. Liu Ge had taken Yue Province in under half a year.
But there was no comparison. *This* was Shu Province. The roads of Shu, harder to travel than ascending to heaven.
In Yue Province, the waterways ran everywhere, and the Ning Army’s takeover had been nearly unopposed — they’d traveled by boat, arriving at each place and simply changing the flags.
Li Chi finished the letter and passed it to the others.
“There’s nothing left to worry about in the southwest of Shu Province,” he said.
He called out to Xia Hou Zhuo. Xia Hou Zhuo, mid-wrestling match, looked over at Li Chi’s gesture — and in that split second of distraction, his opponent took him down.
Xia Hou Zhuo didn’t mind. He jogged over and asked what was the matter. Li Chi said nothing really, he’d just not wanted Xia Hou to win.
The colonel who had defeated Xia Hou Zhuo received ten *liang* of gold as his prize. Li Chi announced that this sum would be paid out of pocket by Great General Xia Hou Zhuo personally, and invited everyone to give a round of applause in gratitude. Applause duly followed.
Xia Hou Zhuo, smiling and waving to the soldiers, leaned close and said very quietly: “You didn’t just want me to lose — you’re trying to bankrupt me.”
“It’s just ten *liang* of gold,” Li Chi said. “Don’t be so stingy.”
“Don’t talk to me about ten *liang* of gold,” Xia Hou Zhuo said. “Try reaching into your own pocket for one *liang* of silver and see how it feels.”
“Not interested,” Li Chi said.
“If you can manage it,” Yu Jiuling said, “be generous for once — you can’t let Xia Hou think you’re petty. One *liang* of silver, that’s nothing, Xia Hou is practically insulting you by setting the bar that low.”
Li Chi considered this, then nodded. “I can’t do it alone. I’ll give him one *liang* if you give him one *liang* too. Otherwise, don’t try to talk me into it.”
Yu Jiuling thought: I hand over one *liang*, then I go find Xia Hou and get it back. Xia Hou won’t refuse. So he nodded — and then shot Xia Hou a meaningful look. Xia Hou Zhuo understood at once and returned a glance that said: *as long as Li Chi actually produces a single* liang, *I’ll split it with you.*
With that silent encouragement, Yu Jiuling’s enthusiasm doubled. He fished out a piece of silver from his robes — about five *liang’s* worth — and handed it to Xia Hou Zhuo.
“I dare to give five *liang*. Does the boss dare to match me?”
Li Chi: “I don’t dare.”
He reached toward Xia Hou Zhuo, who pocketed the five-*liang* piece and counted some loose silver from his own pouch, placing roughly two and a half *liang* in Li Chi’s hand.
This whole maneuver left Yu Jiuling standing there completely baffled.
He blinked several times. He’d never considered himself a fool. Now he was reconsidering. He’d never before *proactively* pulled silver from his own pocket in a situation like this. And what’s more, he’d voluntarily upped the ante from one *liang* to five.
Li Chi looked at the two and a half *liang* with apparent seriousness, kept a piece worth roughly one *liang*, and handed the rest back to Xia Hou Zhuo.
Xia Hou Zhuo felt certain he was hallucinating.
“I wagered exactly one *liang*,” Li Chi said, “so I only take my one *liang*. The extra goes back. Not bad character, right?”
Xia Hou Zhuo said, of course, excellent character.
“But where’s my one *liang*?” Yu Jiuling cried. “Wasn’t all of that originally mine?”
“Say thank you,” Li Chi said, “and I’ll give you this one *liang*.”
“Thank you, boss!”
Li Chi handed the silver over. “I only earned a *thank you*, but I’m still happy.”
“I only got one *liang* back,” Yu Jiuling said, “and I had to say thank you for it — but now I’m only about four-fifths as upset as I was a moment ago.”
“What if I gave you this four *liang* too?” Xia Hou Zhuo said.
“Thank you, Great General Xia Hou! May your blessings be boundless, and may all things go your way!”
Xia Hou Zhuo did give him the four *liang*. Yu Jiuling yelped with delight and practically bounced off the ground.
Li Chi shook his head: “Jiuling just got back what was already his, and he’s happier than if he’d won a prize.”
Xia Hou Zhuo: “So in the future, don’t bother with prizes. Scam him, then give it back — double the joy.”
Yu Jiuling: “…”
He couldn’t help thinking: *he’s right — I really did just get my own silver back. Why am I this happy?*
—
The good news kept coming.
On New Year’s Eve, a messenger from the northwest fought through territory controlled by the Shu Province army, avoiding every obstacle, and finally reached the Ning Army camp.
That night, cheers shook the sky above the Ning Army camp.
Tang Anchen had taken eight thousand cavalry and cut clean through Yong Province. He was now encamped at the northwest of Shu Province.
What did this mean? It meant that the whole of Shu Province was now caught in a Ning Army vise.
At that very moment, standing at a high point of the Mei Mountain fortress, looking down at the lanterns and decorations blazing in the Ning Army camp below, Pei Jinglun felt a storm of conflicting emotions.
For one brief instant, he nearly lost control of the impulse rising inside him.
On New Year’s Eve, with the Ning Army in such abandon, he wanted to lead a raid on their camp.
The urge surged up again and again. He forced it back down each time.
When dawn came, someone reported that there was movement below the mountain.
Pei Jinglun hurried to the heights and raised his spyglass. He saw rows of Ning Army soldiers returning to camp.
In that instant, he understood. If he had given in to that impulse last night and led his men down the mountain, he would have walked into an ambush.
He let out a long, quiet breath.
—
In the Ning Army camp.
Li Chi watched the forces come back in and gave orders: the units that had lain in ambush all night were to rest, then receive double pay.
Lying in ambush on New Year’s Eve for a full night — they deserved it.
Even without drawing the Shu Province army out, nothing had really been lost.
“Pei Jinglun really has iron discipline.”
Xia Hou Zhuo came over carrying a basket — breakfast from the camp kitchens.
Li Chi nodded. “If it had been Han Feibao, he might well have raided us last night.”
Xia Hou Zhuo smiled. “Doesn’t much matter either way. We keep sitting here, and in the end it’s still them who suffer.”
Li Chi looked into the basket: fresh steamed white buns, still warm, and a few pickled mustard greens.
Xia Hou Zhuo took two buns for himself, handed the basket to Li Chi. “Yours.”
Li Chi said: “I went a bit wild celebrating with the soldiers last night — I’ve got a headache. Not much appetite this morning.”
Xia Hou Zhuo: “And?”
Li Chi: “So you don’t need to go back for another trip. I’ll make do with what’s here.”
Xia Hou Zhuo: “…”
The two of them finished breakfast in the command tent. Li Chi’s appetite was indeed modest — by his standards, that meant he only ate six buns.
“Wonder how Old Tang is getting on.”
Xia Hou Zhuo got up to brew tea. “Logically, Han Feibao should be cut off before he reaches the Nalan Steppe.”
Li Chi said: “Han Feibao has an advisor named Yuan Zhen. That man is no ordinary figure. I’m starting to doubt his true identity.”
Xia Hou Zhuo said: “Yang Jing said at the time he was sent by the Iron Crane Tribe.”
Li Chi shook his head. “I didn’t question it then. But the more I think about it, the more it doesn’t sit right. Yuan Zhen is very likely a Black Wu man.”
Xia Hou Zhuo’s hands paused over the tea. He turned to look at Li Chi. “Black Wu?”
Li Chi confirmed it, then added: “A few days ago I already sent someone back to ask Master Wu to move his forces from Qing Province toward Longtoугuan in Ji Province — make a show of it.”
Xia Hou Zhuo considered this. “If Yuan Zhen is Black Wu, he’d almost certainly try to push Han Feibao toward Yan Province.”
Li Chi nodded. “That’s my read as well.”
Xia Hou Zhuo let out a quiet sound of contempt. “The Black Wu people — as long as they’re still out there, they’ll be scheming against us. When we finally have a free hand, we’re going to have to settle old debts and new ones.”
Li Chi smiled. “Black Wu is formidable. We have to stay clear-eyed… Within a hundred years, we likely have no chance of defeating them.”
Xia Hou Zhuo sighed. “Then I won’t live to see that day.”
Li Chi: “Whether you and I see it isn’t really what matters. What matters is… I’d better hope my descendants don’t disappoint me.”
Xia Hou Zhuo: “That depends on you and Miss Gao’s… efforts.”
Li Chi: “I suspect the portion that depends on *my* efforts is… rather larger.”
Xia Hou Zhuo sighed.
Li Chi: “Is that you doubting me?”
Xia Hou Zhuo: “Speaking from your experience — what experience do you actually have?”
Li Chi: “I’ve practiced in private!”
Xia Hou Zhuo’s eyes narrowed.
Li Chi: “Books contain everything. Read enough books, and what can’t you learn?”
Xia Hou Zhuo said with great sincerity: “I won’t argue with you, and I won’t tell you that what you *think* you practiced might end up being over in a few moves before you can do anything — I just want to borrow the book.”
—