The convoy was to stay the night in Longzhou Township, so the local officials prepared a reception for Lu Chonglou and his party — held at the township yamen. Ordinary villages and hamlets had no dedicated yamen of their own, but Longzhou Township was large enough to warrant one. In fact, it was more important to the county than the county seat itself: fully seventy percent of the county’s tax revenue came from here.

The reception was simple but not lacking in courtesy — a clear sign that the county yamen had put genuine care into it. This was not the era of the old Chu dynasty; officials now knew better than to be extravagant.

The Chu court had always operated on a principle of imitation up and down the ranks. Whatever the officials above did — however they stretched out their hands to take — the officials below followed suit, and the lower you went, the more distorted the imitation. If those at the top had at least maintained some veneer of refinement when helping themselves, those at the bottom grabbed with blunt, unsightly directness.

But Prince Ning had torn that old Chu officialdom apart — ground it to pieces and stamped on it for good measure. A new form of imitation had taken hold: what the Prince Regent found distasteful, officials at every level at least had the sense not to flaunt openly.

And there was another consequence of the Chu empire’s collapse — perhaps the only half-beneficial one. The local officials across the land were simply no longer the old officials. Those from the Chu era had either fled or died. The new officeholders were people who had passed through war and suffering. They knew what they ought to do, and what they ought to resist. The old Chu ways had no room to breathe in this new order — and a new order full of light had taken their place.

How long that light would last depended entirely on those at the very top.

Lu Chonglou liked the officialdom of this era. He knew that no age could truly be spotless. But what he saw now was the cleanest it had been in hundreds of years.

And it was precisely because of this that he could not stop thinking. He was unwilling to let this cleanliness be merely a brief flash. He wanted to do everything in his power to make it last.

That very ideal was the reason Li Chi had promoted him above his rank, having seen it clearly.

The local county magistrate’s name was Yu Shunxin — a name Lu Chonglou found fitting for the times.

Among those seated at the reception were the county yamen officials and several instructors from the county and village schools.

Yu Shunxin rose and raised his cup. “Lord Lu is in the middle of an official mission, so this humble official dares not offer wine. We toast with tea instead — to my lord’s health.”

Lu Chonglou also rose. “My thanks to Lord Yu and all present for this warm welcome.”

Both men lifted their cups to drink — when Ye Xiaoqian suddenly reached out and caught Lu Chonglou’s wrist.

Lu Chonglou startled and looked at him.

“My lord,” Ye Xiaoqian said, “you only just took your medicine. Tea will interfere with its effects. You should drink plain water.”

He turned to Yu Shunxin with a pleasant smile. “In fact, why don’t all the lords drink plain water alongside my lord?”

Yu Shunxin and his colleagues were somewhat confused by this young Baiban’s behavior — but everyone present knew better than to antagonize someone from the Court Adjudicator’s Office.

Ye Xiaoqian turned and called back into the room. “Plain water for the lords, please.”

His subordinate Court Adjudicator’s agents stepped forward and exchanged the tea for water all around.

Lu Chonglou lowered his voice. “What medicine have I taken?”

“If my lord drinks that tea,” Ye Xiaoqian murmured back, “and eats the food here, my lord would probably *need* medicine.”

Lu Chonglou’s brow furrowed slightly.

“Lord Yu,” Ye Xiaoqian said brightly, “the kitchen staff you brought in tonight are clearly skilled.”

Yu Shunxin answered quickly: “The township yamen has no dedicated kitchen staff of its own. In order to receive Lord Lu and Lord Ye properly, this humble official hired cooks from outside.”

Ye Xiaoqian smiled. “That explains it.”

He lowered his voice again. “Lords, let’s put aside the food and drink for a moment — I’ll go take a look in the kitchen and be right back.”

This set the local officials murmuring inwardly, though none of them showed it. Was this Baiban really implying that local officials here would try to harm Lu Chonglou?

Still, a Court Adjudicator’s Baiban was sixth rank — equivalent in grade to an average prefectural deputy. The county magistrate held seventh rank. A parent official to tens of thousands, but with no particular privileges where rank differential was concerned.

Ye Xiaoqian rose and left the hall, asked a passerby where the kitchen was, and made his way there at an unhurried stroll.

He signaled his accompanying Court Adjudicator’s agents to remain in the hall and guard Lu Chonglou and the others.

Two yamen runners were stationed at the kitchen entrance — clearly the county yamen had been diligent in its preparations. The runners bowed when they saw the Court Adjudicator’s man approaching.

Ye Xiaoqian gave a nod that served as a return greeting, then stepped into the kitchen.

Several helpers and two chefs were still at work — not all dishes had been served yet, and the lot of them were drenched in sweat. Seeing Ye Xiaoqian enter, they weren’t sure who he was.

“Is everyone accounted for?” Ye Xiaoqian asked.

One of the chefs answered: “My lord, the chef who prepared the cold dishes left in a hurry just now — something urgent at home. Everyone else is here.”

Ye Xiaoqian nodded. “Did any of you know the cold dish chef?”

A kitchen hand replied: “No, sir. He said he was from Jiuxian Zhai. We didn’t recognize him.”

“And among you — who else here is from Jiuxian Zhai?”

The kitchen staff exchanged glances. None of them.

One said: “We’re all from Zuiyuelou. We didn’t know why a chef from Jiuxian Zhai was added — just that the county magistrate had specifically arranged it, said the man made the finest cold dishes. We didn’t dare ask questions.”

Ye Xiaoqian turned back to the two runners at the door. “Who was responsible for hiring the kitchen staff?”

One runner answered: “The county’s Chief Secretary arranged it, sir.”

Ye Xiaoqian considered this. The Chief Secretary had not been among those at the reception table.

The runner added: “Early this morning, sir, a member of the Chief Secretary’s household came to say the Chief Secretary had taken ill in the night — vomiting, diarrhea — and couldn’t attend.”

Ye Xiaoqian’s expression settled. “Keep watch over everyone here. No one leaves until I return.”

The two runners immediately nodded, though neither had any idea what was happening.

Ye Xiaoqian stepped out. “Which way did that cold dish chef go? And where is Jiuxian Zhai?”

A runner pointed. “That way, sir. Jiuxian Zhai is about half a *li* east of the yamen.”

“Thank you.” He turned back and waved to the Court Adjudicator’s agents nearby. Two came jogging over immediately.

“Go at once and summon the physicians from our convoy’s medical team. Tell Lord Lu — not a single bite of anything, and no one else at the table should eat either.”

His instructions given, Ye Xiaoqian’s foot touched the ground lightly, and his body became something like a shadow — he cleared the courtyard wall in an instant.

The two runners stared after him, stunned.

—

Jiuxian Zhai was indeed close to the yamen. When Ye Xiaoqian arrived, the main gate was shut, and a sign hanging outside read: *Closed today.*

He walked to the door and knocked several times. No response.

He drew a gauze cloth from his sleeve and wrapped it over his nose and mouth. Then he pressed his palm against the door panel.

*Crack.* The bar on the other side splintered.

He stepped inside and immediately frowned. Even through the cloth, the smell reached him — iron and copper, the unmistakable smell of blood.

Blood traces on the ground. Drag marks. He followed them toward the back.

One foot had barely crossed the rear doorway when a sword shot in from outside.

Swift and sudden as a viper.

Ye Xiaoqian pulled his upper body back. The blade passed before his eyes.

An instant later, a black iron dart slid from his sleeve into his hand. He drove it through the swordsman’s throat.

Behind him, the inner door creaked and was pulled shut. Several figures in black had already drawn their blades and were closing in.

Ye Xiaoqian couldn’t help but smile.

In a voice that might have been talking to himself, he said: “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for a real fight?”

“Kill him!”

One of the figures in black gave a low shout and lunged.

Ye Xiaoqian raised his hand. The black iron dart flew — punching clean through the man’s throat.

*Thud.* It embedded itself in a pillar, still quivering with a sharp metallic hum.

In the moment the man stiffened, Ye Xiaoqian’s hand snapped forward and stripped the long blade from his grip.

Then — one stroke.

The blade was war-formation style, the kind Li Chi himself had developed. Overwhelming. Overbearing.

One cut, and the second figure in black was cleaved in two.

Ye Xiaoqian twisted back and sent the blade spinning through the air — straight into the skull of a third attacker who had been circling to strike from behind. The man hadn’t even gotten close.

Ye Xiaoqian stepped forward and snatched that man’s sword as he fell.

Then his body seemed to float. The sword traced a beautiful arc in the air — the curved trail of moonlight on still water.

*Thwp.* A fourth attacker was opened from belly to ribs.

Anyone who recognized this swordwork would have been astonished: Ye Xiaoqian’s Moonlight Sword technique was not inferior to that of Shang Qingzhu, the master who had invented it.

One long stride, and at the back door — a figure in black who hadn’t even tried to fight was already turning to run. Ye Xiaoqian crossed the distance and, still two feet short of the man, raised his left hand.

In that instant, his sleeve seemed to swell — like the sail of a ship bellied full with a gale.

*CRACK.* That sleeve struck squarely across the man’s back, and the figure in black was launched forward like a kite with its string cut.

He crashed into a tree in the rear courtyard. The impact was strong enough to make the whole tree shudder violently, sending leaves and small branches raining down. The man who had struck it lay still — no more breath.

Ye Xiaoqian turned. Inside the building, the last man in black had been so terrified he seemed to have forgotten how to run.

Ye Xiaoqian stooped, picked a pebble off the ground, and flicked it with a light shake of his wrist.

The stone shot like a falling star. It found the man’s eye socket with pinpoint accuracy — drove straight into the skull.

The man’s head snapped back. He stumbled two steps, then collapsed with a thud.

His legs kicked twice, then went rigid. He was gone.

Ye Xiaoqian glanced at the rear courtyard. A dark shape had vaulted over the wall and fled.

He surveyed the scattered bodies, and a faint, quiet smile curved his mouth.

“The Qianban once said… I’ve learned well. Quite well.”

The words were barely out before he had crossed to the courtyard wall. One flicker of movement — and he was gone.

—