Lu Chonglou studied the young, childlike face before him, at a loss for words.

This was indeed a Baiban of the Court Adjudicator’s Office who already carried heavy responsibilities on his shoulders — yet he was, in truth, only seventeen years old.

At seventeen, by all rights, one should still be called a boy rather than a man, even if in ordinary households a seventeen-year-old might already have a family and a livelihood.

But in terms of mental maturity, seventeen was still a very, very long way off.

“What are you thinking about, my lord?”

Ye Xiaoqian noticed the strange expression on Lu Chonglou’s face and asked.

*Little Ye-zi, oh Little Ye-zi,* Lu Chonglou thought to himself, *do you really want me to say it aloud?*

Ye Xiaoqian watched Lu Chonglou’s expression grow more and more complicated, and began to wonder whether the lord doubted his own capabilities.

So he asked directly: “Is my lord worried that I alone won’t be able to hold things together?”

Lu Chonglou reluctantly nodded.

Ye Xiaoqian smiled. “Then my lord need not worry — I certainly won’t be able to hold things together. But the Qianban once said: to persist in what one knows cannot be done — that is the mark of a true man. I suppose I was simply born to be one.”

Lu Chonglou: “……”

Ye Xiaoqian glanced around, then said, “My lord hasn’t packed yet? Let me help.”

“No, no, I can handle it myself,” Lu Chonglou said hastily. “I couldn’t trouble you.”

“Then I’m off to play,” said Ye Xiaoqian.

And with that, he turned and left.

Lu Chonglou watched that retreating figure, thinking to himself that things looked grim this time. Just the two of them — himself and Ye Xiaoqian — up against someone like Xu Ji. It was like two men facing ten thousand soldiers, and every single one of those soldiers could hold his own against ten thousand more.

The two of them looked at each other. One’s greatest skill was rock-paper-scissors, the other’s was singing nursery rhymes.

Yet Lu Chonglou also felt it was unlikely the Court Adjudicator’s Office had made no other arrangements. Everyone knew Ye Xiaoqian had no real combat experience — this was, in fact, his very first genuine mission. For something this important, a journey this dangerous, to send only Ye Xiaoqian alone made no sense at all.

Thinking this, Lu Chonglou suddenly felt a dark premonition rise within him.

Because he suddenly remembered the word Ye Xiaoqian had repeated twice just now — *vulnerability*.

Ye Xiaoqian had said that he himself *was* the vulnerability. With him present, the people on Xu Ji’s side could not possibly hold back.

Xu Ji, with his abilities, his connections, and the forces at his command, should be able to determine with ease that Ye Xiaoqian was not worth taking seriously.

Yet the Court Adjudicator’s Office had still sent Ye Xiaoqian, had still arranged for him to protect Lu Chonglou… combined with the talk of vulnerabilities.

A chill crept into Lu Chonglou’s heart.

*Could it be that Prince Ning wants me dead?*

*Using my death as the groundwork for eventually removing Xu Ji in the future?*

Once the thought took root, everything seemed to fall into place.

The Court Adjudicator’s Office had deliberately sent someone with no experience to “protect” him — not to keep him safe, but to let Xu Ji eliminate him.

But Lu Chonglou quickly dismissed the idea, because he was certain Prince Ning was not that kind of person. Prince Ning could never do something like that.

Yet another voice surfaced in his mind: *Prince Ning may not be that kind of person, but what about those beneath him? What about someone like Master Yan?*

Lu Chonglou found himself at a loss. He shook his head vigorously, trying to scatter the tangle of thoughts from his mind.

But once such ideas take root, they are not easily shaken loose.

He walked to the window and looked out. Ye Xiaoqian was crouching on the ground with a few of his subordinates from the Court Adjudicator’s Office, writing and drawing something.

In that moment, Lu Chonglou thought — perhaps he was being too gloomy.

Ye Baiban had said he was going out to play, yet here he was, earnestly conferring with his subordinates.

Even if Ye Xiaoqian had no experience, even if he was truly too young — hadn’t his appointment as Baiban spoken for itself? What kind of place was the Court Adjudicator’s Office? A person without ability could never be promoted there.

*Lu Chonglou, Lu Chonglou, look at yourself and your wild imaginings.*

You doubted Ye Xiaoqian’s competence — yet right now that very Ye Xiaoqian was crouching on the ground drawing diagrams, carefully going over strategies with his subordinates. They had probably thought through every detail of the road ahead.

Ye Xiaoqian, crouching there drawing and assigning tasks with such focused seriousness, made Lu Chonglou feel ashamed of himself.

About half a shichen later, Ye Xiaoqian finally rose, exchanged a few more quiet words with his subordinates, then led them away.

Lu Chonglou let out a slow breath and stepped out of the room.

He knew, of course, that the Court Adjudicator’s Office had a habit of planning everything in advance. The diagram Ye Xiaoqian had left on the ground was probably their route. He walked over, intending to wipe it away with his foot — after all, this was Yuezhou, with eyes everywhere. If the route was seen, it could be used against them.

Ye Xiaoqian was still young, and had carelessly forgotten to erase the drawing.

He reached it, extended his foot — and then stopped it mid-air, nearly pulling a muscle.

Erasing it seemed rather pointless. What had been drawn on the ground was an extremely childish game of *blocking the outhouse* — a type of folk board game. From the positions, it looked as though Ye Xiaoqian had lost.

*He said he was going out to play, and he really was.*

An image appeared in Lu Chonglou’s mind: Ye Xiaoqian, having lost several rounds in a row, gravely warning his subordinates, *”If any of you breathes a word of this, I’ll make you regret it.”*

—

Several days later, the provisions and supplies were all loaded onto carts, and Xu Ji led the civil and military officials of Yuezhou to see Lu Chonglou off.

For this occasion, Xu Ji had dispatched roughly three thousand Yuezhou soldiers to escort the grain convoy — two thousand eight hundred of them new recruits, two hundred of them veteran Ning Army soldiers.

Beyond these, to demonstrate the importance of the mission, Yuezhou Prefectural Deputy Xie Niao had also recruited around twelve hundred civilian volunteers to assist with the escort.

With the Central Plains now largely pacified — only Shuzhou and Yongzhou still outside Prince Ning’s territory — the convoy of over four thousand soldiers plus a large contingent of supply bearers was, under normal circumstances, more than sufficient.

After all, large-scale bandits were nearly unheard of now, and even if any remained, none would dare attack such a sizable Ning Army force. The invincibility of the Ning Army was known throughout the realm — and besides, outsiders had no way of knowing the convoy was mostly made up of new recruits.

Given the great distance of the journey, Xu Ji had also arranged extensive additional preparations: at least several dozen veterinarians, up to twenty military physicians, and even an escort company sent ahead to scout the route.

Such arrangements were more than sufficient to guarantee the convoy’s safety — because Xu Ji could not allow the convoy itself to fail.

He only wanted Lu Chonglou to die.

If the grain failed to reach Shuzhou, Prince Ning would view it as Xu Ji’s incompetence. And Xu Ji, at this moment, could not afford even the smallest blemish on his record. He needed to appear utterly flawless — only then could he, in time, contend for the position of supreme authority beneath one person and above ten thousand.

“Lord Lu.”

Xu Ji stepped forward and took Lu Chonglou’s hands in his. “These provisions concern the fate of the Shuzhou campaign, and the sustenance of His Highness and hundreds of thousands of soldiers. Such a weighty charge, I can only entrust to you. I pray you will give your full dedication — and please take care of yourself. May our convoy return home with every man accounted for.”

“My lord may set his mind at ease,” Lu Chonglou replied. “This subordinate will not betray your trust.”

Xu Ji then turned to Ye Xiaoqian and smiled. “Ye Baiban, Lord Lu is my dearest friend. Nothing must happen to him. His safety I leave entirely in your hands.”

Ye Xiaoqian clasped his fist. “My lord, this subordinate understands.”

Xu Ji gave a satisfied nod. “Ye Baiban is young and accomplished — your future prospects are boundless.”

“Many thanks, my lord,” Ye Xiaoqian replied with a smile.

Seeing that the hour had come, Xu Ji stepped back two paces and bowed. “Then I shall wish Lord Lu and all present a smooth journey and a safe return.”

Everyone bowed in return. With the crack of a whip, the convoy slowly began to move.

From inside the carriage, Lu Chonglou glanced out the window. Ye Xiaoqian was on horseback, laughing and chatting with his subordinates — looking entirely at ease. Or perhaps he genuinely had nothing weighing on him.

*He’s only seventeen…*

The more Lu Chonglou thought about it, the more he convinced himself he was overthinking things. The Court Adjudicator’s Office could not truly have made no other preparations. Prince Ning had entrusted Lu Chonglou with many important matters before departing for Shuzhou — which meant Prince Ning valued him. It was simply impossible that the Office would deliberately send him to his death as a pretext for dealing with Xu Ji later.

That made no sense.

He lowered the window, leaned back, and closed his eyes to rest. The road ahead was truly long. From Yuezhou to Shuzhou would take several months at minimum.

Outside the carriage, Ye Xiaoqian watched the window go down. Only then did a flicker of worry pass through his brow.

—

The first month of travel went smoothly — they were even lucky enough to avoid rain. Yuezhou’s weather was notoriously changeable, yet wherever they walked, it stayed dry; the rain only came after they had passed.

The convoy was enormous, so the pace was not fast.

After a full month, they had not yet left Yuezhou. It would take another ten days or so to enter the southern reaches of Liangzhou, then cross Liangzhou entirely before reaching Shuzhou’s Kaoshen Pass.

As they neared the edge of Yuezhou, word came that a rebel army that had once fled the Central Plains had established a kingdom in the south.

Lu Chonglou, of course, knew which force this was — the troops of Lord Guanting.

Previously, Lord Guanting had led his army out of Yuezhou under the Yuezhou banner, while Lord Guanting himself claimed to be a descendant of the Chu imperial Yang family. They had swept southward, conquering all before them — the founding of a kingdom had always been a foregone conclusion.

Rumor had it that upon heading south, Lord Guanting declared that “Guanting” was not his name but a title, and that his true name was Yang Xu. Since his army had been called the Yuezhou Army, the kingdom he founded took the name Yue. And since the Central Plains already had a Yuezhou, this new southern realm came to be called Southern Yue.

But Lu Chonglou had little interest in such matters. Liangzhou was close now. Southern Yue and its affairs had nothing to do with him — even if it had declared itself a kingdom, it would still eventually submit to Prince Ning.

What lay ahead, however, directly concerned his own life and death.

He estimated that if Xu Ji intended to make a move, it would happen somewhere inside Liangzhou. They were very close now. Very close indeed.

—