Guan Shisanzhou stood in a daze for a long while. When his people came running over, they found their Eighth Chief’s eyes slightly distant.

“You all…” He asked quietly, “Did that person look like the Fifth Chief to you?”

One of his men nodded. “Like him… at first I thought my eyes were playing tricks. But the more I looked at the build, the more it looked like him.”

Guan Shisanzhou murmured to himself, “But the dead cannot come back to life.”

By now, everyone in the stronghold had heard: Fifth Chief Qin Ke had been killed outside the county town, his death a gruesome horror.

If they hadn’t known how he died, perhaps they wouldn’t have been so frightened.

But knowing — knowing his face had been hacked to pulp, his body skewered through and through — and then seeing that blood-soaked figure standing in the tree watching them… the mind made terrible connections.

Even if the Fifth Chief had come back, why would he kill the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs?

No one said it aloud, but once the idea spread through the stronghold — that the blood figure was the Fifth Chief’s spirit returning for revenge — people couldn’t help wondering: had the Fifth Chief’s death had something to do with the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs?

In one corner of the stronghold, a cluster of Horse Gang men had gathered to talk in low voices.

“If it really was the Fifth Chief coming back to settle accounts…”

One man pressed his voice down to a murmur. “Then does that mean the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs actually had something to do with his death?”

“You can’t say things like that,” another said. “The chiefs all get along — close as real brothers.”

“Not necessarily…”

An older man of about fifty lowered his voice further still. “Don’t you all remember that fight the chiefs had a while back?”

At the mention of that, everyone quietly nodded.

That fight had been fierce — even after the old chief spoke, it didn’t stop immediately. Plenty of people had witnessed it, though no one knew what it was really about.

Only later did rumors begin to drift through the stronghold:

The chiefs had divided over which way the Tiger Gang — and the Horse Gang — should go. And the old chief had never clearly stated his own position, only watched his subordinates argue, and let everyone leave at the end without resolution.

That day, Fourth Chief Yu Yurèn and Fifth Chief Qin Ke had both made their positions clear: they believed that Pei Qi, lord of Shu Province, was like the setting sun — his time nearly over. The great families were propping him up, but he had no real grip on the hearts of the people of Shu Province. With Prince Ning’s army having already pushed to Mei City, Pei Qi’s fall was only a matter of when.

Yu Yurèn had also said: why had Pei Qi rushed to proclaim himself Emperor at Mei City? Because even *he* knew he had no chance of contending for the Central Plains anymore.

Qin Ke had always followed the Fourth Chief’s lead, listening to him in all things — their private friendship the closest among all the chiefs.

Second Chief Sun Jinjia, Third Chief Liao Feijiang, Sixth Chief, and Seventh Chief — all four had believed firmly that the gang should join Shu Province’s army to fight the Ning forces. Pei Qi was one of their own, in the broad sense — all of them were from Shu Province. And over the years, even if relations between Pei Qi and the Horse Gang hadn’t been warm, he’d never seriously interfered with their business. In fact, the Horse Gang had even helped transport supplies during several of Shu Province’s military expeditions — for good pay, naturally, but wasn’t that precisely the kind of thing Prince Ning might hold against them?

Sun Jinjia’s view: Prince Ning was the type who repaid every grievance. Once he took Shu Province, he would come after the Horse Gang for their past aid to Pei Qi. Liao Feijiang agreed: even if the Horse Gang had never helped Pei Qi, Prince Ning would never tolerate a gang monopolizing Shu Province’s transport trade. He pointed to the Cao family of Yu Province — who had controlled water and land transport across Shu Province and half of the south — and had been entirely wiped out by Prince Ning. That story had spread all through Shu Province; even ordinary townsfolk had heard it. And so: since Prince Ning was going to come for them anyway, better to tie themselves to Pei Qi and keep him barricaded in Shu Province. Pei Qi might have no hope of contending for the Central Plains, but holding Shu Province should be well within his means.

Yu Yurèn and Qin Ke had argued themselves red in the face against those four. Only the old chief Luo Jiuhong and Eighth Chief Guan Shisanzhou had stayed silent throughout.

No one was surprised by the old chief’s silence — but Guan Shisanzhou’s silence everyone understood: he had always taken his cues from his adoptive father. If the old chief didn’t speak, neither would he.

So on the surface, the numbers favored joining Pei Qi — and the old chief had seemed to be leaning that way as well.

Then came the aftermath.

The older man dropped his voice to its lowest.

“Do you all know — that day, the Fourth Chief went to the county town on his own, to meet Prince Ning’s envoy. And he was killed before he came back.”

Everyone nodded. This had already become common knowledge in the stronghold.

“Think about it,” the old man said, and stopped. He didn’t dare say more.

No one needed him to. The meaning was understood without being spelled out.

Fourth Chief meets with Ning Army envoy in secret. Returns dead. Fifth Chief — close friend of the Fourth — begins investigating in the stronghold… and is found dead outside the city.

The story told itself.

And it wasn’t just this small group talking. The entire stronghold was buzzing with the same speculation. Even Guan Shisanzhou’s own trusted men were whispering among themselves.

He came back from his patrol to find his aides muttering. He cleared his throat; they fell silent.

“All of you, inside. Now.”

They followed him in, sheepish.

“What were you talking about?” he said, with some sharpness.

Because they were close to him, and they were inside the room, they answered more freely than they might have otherwise.

“Eighth Chief, it’s not that we *want* to be saying these things — the whole stronghold is saying it.”

“They’re saying the other chiefs secretly arranged to have the Fourth Chief killed.”

Guan Shisanzhou’s expression shifted slightly — as though he wanted to stop them from continuing, but couldn’t quite bring himself to.

That silence was permission enough. His men spoke with more energy.

“Eighth Chief, it’s all pretty clear now — the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs wanted to side with Pei Qi, and when the Fourth Chief went behind their backs to meet with the Ning Army envoy, they had him ambushed and killed.”

“Then the Fifth Chief worked out what had happened, and went to the county town to report to the old chief.”

“Right — so the Fifth Chief died outside the county town. Obviously the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs sent someone to do it.”

“And then the Fifth Chief, wrongly killed, came back for revenge.”

They spoke over each other, piecing the story together. Guan Shisanzhou let them finish, then exhaled heavily.

He walked to the door, looked out, and pulled it shut a bit tighter.

After a long pause, he said quietly: “Some things — only you few need to know… The day Old Fifth searched the stronghold, he didn’t find anyone who had left on the day the Fourth Chief was killed. But…” He lowered his voice further. “Third Brother — who should have returned a day earlier — came back a day late. He only returned after Old Fourth was already dead.”

The men looked at each other with dawning realization.

True — no one had had the chance to be in the county town that day. All those who’d been away had alibis placing them elsewhere. But Third Chief Liao Feijiang had been expected back a day before the murder — and hadn’t arrived until afterward.

Qin Ke’s investigation had apparently rattled Liao Feijiang, who then followed the old chief to the county town…

So Third Chief had sent word back to the stronghold, coordinating with the Sixth and Seventh Chiefs to have Qin Ke quietly killed.

“No wonder the Fifth Chief’s spirit came back for revenge,” one young man muttered to himself.

“All of you — go,” Guan Shisanzhou said. “Everything waits for the old chief’s return.”

They clasped their hands to him and filed out.

When they were gone, Guan Shisanzhou exhaled at length.

He returned to the inner room and looked at the man sitting silently in the shadows — and found he didn’t know what to say.

“I didn’t want it to come to this either.”

The man in the inner room spoke quietly. “But they killed Old Fourth. If I hadn’t done what I did, I would have been next.”

He raised his head and looked at Guan Shisanzhou.

Guan Shisanzhou stood for a long while before speaking, his voice heavy. “Old Fifth, I understand what you’re saying. But now that things have gone this far — how does it end?”

The man in his inner room was none other than Qin Ke.

“That day…” Qin Ke said, “After I left the city, it didn’t take long before someone was tailing me. He deliberately let himself seem drunk — he wanted to see who would come to kill him, who had killed Old Fourth.”

A cold light passed through his eyes.

“It was Old Six and Old Seven’s people.”

He clenched his fist.

“Just because of a difference of opinion — they killed Old Fourth. And they were coming for me too…”

His fist tightened further.

“Fine. Then let them learn — when it comes to killing, who is better at it.”

—