Cao Lie felt he should invite Luo Jiuhong out for a drink — and worried the old man, who was preparing to vanish from the jianghu, might decline.

He needn’t have worried. The moment it was mentioned, Luo Jiuhong cheerfully agreed.

There were four at the table: Luo Jiuhong and his adopted son Guan Shisan Zhou, and Cao Lie and Ye Xiaoqian.

Cao Lie wouldn’t let Guan Shisan Zhou pour the wine. He filled Luo Jiuhong’s cup himself and said: you genuinely have my admiration, Chief.

Luo Jiuhong laughed. “You mean old and cunning?”

Cao Lie: “I wouldn’t put it quite that way. But roughly.”

Luo Jiuhong roared with laughter.

“I have an even more devious scheme in mind,” he said, “so even if Milord hadn’t invited me for this drink, I was going to invite you to sit down and talk.”

Cao Lie: “Is that right?”

Luo Jiuhong: “It is.”

Cao Lie: “Well then — this round’s on you.”

Luo Jiuhong: “…”

He ventured carefully: “Milord, have you always been like this?”

Cao Lie: “Are you referring to my shamelessness?”

Luo Jiuhong: “I wouldn’t put it quite that way. But roughly.”

Cao Lie burst out laughing and shook his head. “I genuinely wasn’t like this before. Believe it or not — I was once a serious, proper, even rather rigid man.”

Luo Jiuhong said nothing. But Ye Xiaoqian, involuntarily, nodded.

You could say that to someone else and they’d never believe you. But to anyone who knew Li Chi’s circle — it was entirely credible.

Take, for example, the former Headmaster Gao of the Academy of Four Pages — was he ever a shameless man? And look at him now. Gao Headmaster would probably rather not reflect on who he used to be — the contrast raised certain ancient, uncomfortable questions about the nature of existence.

“Chief,” Cao Lie said, “when you mentioned having something to ask earlier — was there something you needed help with?”

Luo Jiuhong nodded, then looked at Guan Shisan Zhou. “Give Milord a bow.”

Guan Shisan Zhou stood, moved away from the table with fluid grace, dropped to his knees, and knocked his forehead to the floor — once, twice, three times.

Luo Jiuhong said, “This child—”

He had said *a* bow. Honest men always seem to buy one and give you three extra.

Cao Lie understood in an instant.

Luo Jiuhong was handing over his position as chief, passing it to Mo Xiyan. He had no doubt Mo Xiyan would never mistreat his old subordinates — but still. A new dynasty, new ministers. Once Luo Jiuhong left the Horse Gang, his adopted son would inevitably find himself in an awkward position.

And Guan Shisan Zhou was young, and he was living through exactly the moment when the Prince of Ning was coming to Shu — for a young man, this was the tail end of a chaotic era, a last window of opportunity to build something worth remembering.

Cao Lie understood. He helped Guan Shisan Zhou to his feet. “If you want to join the military, I’ll introduce you to Great General Tantai when I next see him. If you want to join the Magistrate’s Office or the Bureau of Military Intelligence, that’s more complicated — it wouldn’t be a simple matter of my word.”

He looked at Ye Xiaoqian. “Ye Qianban here may not carry enormous weight in the Magistrate’s Office. But he is Magistrate’s Office.”

Ye Xiaoqian said, “I can help somewhat.”

Cao Lie: “Somewhat — and still no elaboration.”

Ye Xiaoqian said, “If an ordinary person wants to join the Magistrate’s Office, they have to be investigated for background and origins first, then their abilities are tested, and then they’re put through the formal examination.” He looked at Cao Lie. “But I am a Qianban, which means I can at least skip the background investigation.”

Guan Shisan Zhou cupped his fists. “Thank you, Qianban.”

Cao Lie sighed. “And you’re thanking him for skipping a step you didn’t need him to skip?”

Guan Shisan Zhou: “You should still thank a person for what they offer. Though — I don’t actually want to join the Magistrate’s Office.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Let’s eat.”

Cao Lie laughed.

Guan Shisan Zhou said, “I want to join the army. And I don’t need the help of either of you, truly. I’ll start as an ordinary Ning soldier. If I can build something, it proves these twenty years of training weren’t wasted. If I can’t — at least I’ll have honored the ambition a man ought to have.”

Cao Lie stood and raised his cup. “To that ambition.”

Ye Xiaoqian said, “Oh, come off it — you’re just happy because you don’t have to trouble yourself.”

Cao Lie: “You talk too much.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Fine. To that ambition.”

After the toast, Cao Lie couldn’t help asking Luo Jiuhong: “Chief — you’ve handed all of this over. Are you truly at peace with it?”

“I am,” Luo Jiuhong said.

Then he smiled. “I told you — old and cunning.”

He raised a finger and pointed to himself, then to Guan Shisan Zhou.

Ye Xiaoqian didn’t quite catch the meaning at first. But Cao Lie understood instantly.

And he found himself quietly admiring Luo Jiuhong all over again. Because when you understood it — the old Chief had earned every syllable of “old and cunning.”

This was an era of upheaval. The Prince of Ning had come to Shu, and for the people here, it still felt uncertain. The future was unclear.

In such a time, Luo Jiuhong had stepped down and given the leadership to someone younger and more adaptable. He had arranged for his own personal tie to be placed in the care of the Ning Army.

He had spent decades building the Horse Gang, was now entrusting it to the next generation, and had tidied up his one remaining concern.

A scheme this thorough — surely he had planned it long ago. The only thing that had changed it was Fourth Brother You Yuren’s death.

Cao Lie asked: “Where will you go, Chief?”

“I may be old, but my body’s still good,” Luo Jiuhong said. “My wife passed early, and I never remarried. Apart from Shisan Zhou, I have no one. Once he goes to the army, I won’t need to worry.”

“So I intend to leave Shu Province and wander. People say the Prince of Ning has come and changed the world. I want to go see just how beautiful this changed world is.”

Cao Lie said, “If that’s the case — whenever you’ve wandered enough, when you’re tired of traveling, you can seek out the Prince of Ning. He keeps three old men by his side, and they can’t fill a mahjong table.”

Luo Jiuhong: “And how do those three play?”

Cao Lie: “I don’t know. Probably badly.”

Luo Jiuhong shook his head. “That won’t do. As a man of Shu, I have only two non-negotiable standards: first, no clear broth in the hot pot. Second, no terrible mahjong.”

Cao Lie: “Well, once you get to know those three old gentlemen, you’ll find your non-negotiables expanding considerably.”

Luo Jiuhong smiled for a moment, then cupped his fists. “Whatever comes of it — my thanks to Milord and Ye Qianban. And for this drink.”

Cao Lie: “Please.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Really, we did very little. Please don’t thank us.”

Cao Lie: “No, what I mean is — I told you earlier, this round’s on you. So please.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “…”

After Luo Jiuhong and Guan Shisan Zhou left, Cao Lie let out a sigh.

Ye Xiaoqian asked: “Why so wistful, Milord?”

Cao Lie: “When I calculated everything, I forgot we were eating in our own quarters… Isn’t it just a little bit excessive to let someone else pay at your own table?”

Ye Xiaoqian also sighed. “Milord, you actually used the phrases ‘a little bit’ and ‘somewhat excessive’ in that sentence.”

After a few more idle remarks, Ye Xiaoqian asked: “Should we call Li Pofu and Li Chenshu back? That Chief must have guessed.”

Cao Lie smiled. “Of course he guessed that their deaths were staged. But why has he never brought it up?”

Ye Xiaoqian: suddenly understood. “I see.”

Cao Lie: “Let them keep watch in the shadows. The new Horse Gang needs watching for a while longer. Once we’re sure there’s nothing to worry about, we’ll bring the two of them back.”

Only then did Ye Xiaoqian fully understand why Cao Lie kept calling Luo Jiuhong old and cunning.

An old man who had held Shu Province’s black-and-white worlds alike in check for decades — if he had survived purely on jianghu loyalty, that was impossible. That was the reality, not an exaggeration.

“So what about us?” Ye Xiaoqian asked. “Back to the Meishan camp, or to go meet with Great General Tantai?”

Cao Lie: “Young man, let me teach you one more thing.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Please enlighten me, Milord.”

Cao Lie: “If we go straight back to the Meishan camp and tell our lord what happened, it’ll all sound a bit understated.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “And so?”

Cao Lie: “But if we first go see Tantai Yajing, tell him the story, and *he* brings it up with our lord — suddenly the whole thing sounds absolutely sweeping and magnificent.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Milord, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask, though I’m not sure if I should. I’m worried you’ll find it irritating.”

Cao Lie smiled: “Young man, curiosity is a virtue. Whatever you want to ask — ask.”

Ye Xiaoqian: “Milord — could there be a possibility that our lord put you in charge of jianghu affairs not only because he trusts you and you’re the most suited for it — but also, just *a little bit*, because he was worried that if he put you inside the court system, you would absolutely, certainly, beyond all doubt, become a corrupt official?”

Cao Lie went still.

This question genuinely required careful consideration.

Ye Xiaoqian, looking a little sheepish, said: “Don’t take it to heart, Milord. I was just saying whatever came to mind.”

Cao Lie: “You just said whatever came to mind, and it went straight for the deepest part of me.”

He drifted to the window and stood there, looking out at the broad landscape. He was quiet for a long while, then suddenly smiled.

He turned back to Ye Xiaoqian. “I can say this with complete certainty: if the realm is prosperous, if the world is at peace — I would absolutely be a corrupt official.”

Ye Xiaoqian burst out laughing.

Then he asked: “And in a time of chaos? If the nation were in danger?”

Cao Lie answered, as if to himself: “In that case… the corrupt official would die for it. And his name would go down in history.”

—