Yè Xiǎoqiān’s expression was grim, because his heart was eaten by guilt — a guilt so heavy it sat in his chest like a stone.
He had thought he had handled the Yuán Zhēn case brilliantly. He had not imagined Yuán Zhēn would be so resolute.
Though Yuán Zhēn had made every preparation for his own escape, perhaps from the very beginning he had also cast himself as the bait.
He used those meticulous preparations and that desperate, death-defying flight to draw all of the Court of Justice’s attention onto himself alone.
In the end, the man had died — yet he had still managed to get the map and letter back.
There are times when one cannot help but respect the enemy — because they are not as foolish or as weak as you assumed. Among enemies, there are those who do not fear death, those who are every bit as loyal to their cause as your own men are to yours.
Yè Xiǎoqiān had by now been transferred to Wèiyāng Palace. But this knot in his heart would likely take some time to untangle.
So when the news broke, he asked Li Chi for leave and hurried to the Court of Justice to find out more.
Chief Agent Yú Hóngyī handed him two sealed dispatches that had arrived not long before. “The other two were also stopped by frontier soldiers. The letters and maps they were carrying have been seized.”
Yè Xiǎoqiān read through both dispatches, then let out a slow sigh.
“Seizing two, or seizing none — the difference is almost nothing.”
He said, “His Majesty didn’t blame me, and the Chief Justice didn’t blame me, but I cannot help blaming myself.”
Yú Hóngyī raised her hand and patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. Any one of us in the Court of Justice could have handled this case, and the outcome would be the same. If there’s any difference, it’s that it probably would have been handled less cleanly than you did.”
Yè Xiǎoqiān asked, “Has His Majesty or the Chief Justice made any arrangements about going to the northern frontier? Tell me something, and if they have, I’ll go petition His Majesty to let me go too.”
Yú Hóngyī said, “Everyone has their duties now. You’re already Commander of the Palace Guard — you should do the job you have. What happened to the lesson about knowing your place?”
Yè Xiǎoqiān was at a loss for words, and could only nod.
He knew Yú Hóngyī was right. He was now Commander of the Palace Guard, and his responsibilities no longer had much to do with the Court of Justice.
“Go on back,” Yú Hóngyī said. “But think about it — if His Majesty truly intends to lead the campaign himself, you are the Commander of the Palace Guard. How could you *not* go?”
Yè Xiǎoqiān’s eyes lit up, his mood lifting immediately. He said his farewells to Yú Hóngyī with a smile and hurried back to Wèiyāng Palace.
He had barely returned when he saw all the Chief Agents of the Court of Justice filing into the palace — just a little ahead of him.
Along with the Court of Justice agents came people from the Military Intelligence Bureau, including Chief Guī Yuánshù himself.
Though Guī had already been appointed as Minister of Finance, the handover of his Military Intelligence Bureau duties was not yet complete.
Seeing this formation, Yè Xiǎoqiān could guess that something major was about to happen, and his heart began to race with anticipation.
—
The Main Hall.
Li Chi looked out at the men arrayed before him — every Chief Agent stationed in Chang’an and all the senior officers of the Military Intelligence Bureau.
“The merger of the Military Intelligence Bureau into the Court of Justice — Guī Yuánshù has already briefed all of you,” Li Chi said, his tone measured. “Ordinarily, this wouldn’t be such a rushed matter. Both sides need time to get to know each other, and the files and records need to be sorted through properly — it can’t be sorted out in a day.”
“But now, the Black Martial people are very likely to raid the frontier again, and they may move quickly. So the merger of the Court of Justice and the Military Intelligence Bureau must also be accelerated.”
Li Chi walked slowly along the row of men. “Yuán Zhēn mentioned something in the secret letter he sent to the Black Martial Khagan.”
“He dared to write it because he wasn’t sure all three of his couriers would make it back safely.”
“He wasn’t worried, because we still know nothing… The letter states that while Yuán Zhēn was in the Central Plains, he quietly dispatched operatives to seek out every Black Martial spy that had been planted in the Central Plains during the Chu era, and instructed them all to converge on the northern frontier.”
Li Chi continued walking as he spoke. “In the letter, Yuán Zhēn told the Black Martial Khagan that the reason their previous southern campaigns had all failed was a lack of intelligence about Central Plains armies.”
“So before this campaign, the first priority is intelligence. He has positioned spies to enter the northern frontier, and the Black Martial side will also send large numbers of spies trying to infiltrate.”
Li Chi moved to one side of the hall where a large sand table stood — a topographic model of the northern frontier.
“This is the Yānshān Mountain Range.”
Li Chi indicated the feature. Everyone gathered around it, standing in a ring, listening carefully.
“Though fortified passes and strongholds have long been built at every strategic point,” Li Chi said, “the Yānshān Range is simply too vast.”
“Along a mountain range of this scale, skilled scouts and operatives who are willing to pay any price to get through can still find a way.”
Li Chi moved his hand to another area. “What is this place? Does anyone know?”
A Chief Agent replied, “Your Majesty, that is the Báishān and Hēishān mountain range.”
Li Chi nodded. His hand traced the region between the Yānshān and Báishān ranges.
“This is what the people call the Northern Desert.”
He paused briefly, then continued in the same measured tone. “The Northern Desert was originally within Chu’s borders, but over hundreds of years of conflict with the Black Martial people, Chu’s frontier was steadily pushed back — retreating south sometimes three to four hundred li, in other places six to seven hundred li.”
Li Chi pointed to another feature. “And here — this is what everyone has heard of as the Outer Steppe. Far larger than the Northern Desert. Ten thousand li of grassland…”
At that, Li Chi paused, and his tone shifted.
“In the secret letter Yuán Zhēn sent to the Black Martial Khagan, he gave me quite a thorough compliment.”
A small smile crossed Li Chi’s face. “A fairly fair-minded one, at that. He said I may surpass every emperor Chu has had in the past several hundred years — those were his exact words. After reading it, I thought to myself… the man was not wrong.”
The assembled men laughed.
Li Chi said, “And why would he praise me like that? Because he wanted to tell the Black Martial Khagan: if they cannot march south during our Great Níng Empire’s founding — while the Central Plains has not yet fully stabilized — then there will be no opportunity left.”
Li Chi laughed. “On that point, I agree with him. Right now truly is the Black Martial people’s last chance. Níng will only grow stronger. In ten years, twenty years, they will never be able to beat our frontier armies the way they battered Chu’s. In a hundred years, two hundred years, our frontier armies may well turn the tables and press them back.”
His gaze returned to the region north of the Yānshān.
“Right here.”
Li Chi swept his hand along the line of the Yānshān. “The eight hundred thousand laborers Great General Wáng brought back from the Yànhǎi Kingdom are currently rebuilding the frontier passes. I’ve been thinking — let’s not rebuild there.”
His hand moved and settled on the Báishān line, where he pressed his finger firmly.
“We’ll rebuild — but not on the Běishān Pass line. On the Báishān and Hēishān line.”
“The Black Martial people want to march south? This time we won’t just stand and hold. This time — we go on the attack.”
At those words, every eye in the room lit up.
Li Chi continued: “The Black Martial people want to fight. How, and where — this time, it’s not up to them. It’s up to us.”
“The battlefield will be in the land called the Northern Desert. We will meet the Black Martial people there in open battle. If we can drive them back and break them here, we will reclaim the Northern Desert, and the Báishān line will become the new northern frontier of the Central Plains.”
He looked out at the assembled men.
“So it isn’t only the Běishān Pass line that will be swarming with Black Martial spies — the Northern Desert beyond the pass will be as well.”
Li Chi closed his hand into a fist.
“Sweep the Northern Desert clean!”
“*Hu!*” — Every man answered in one voice.
Li Chi said: “The Northern Desert is full of bandits, outlaws, and mountain raiders of every size — they must all be cleared out.”
“And then there are the Black Martial spies throughout the Northern Desert. Yuán Zhēn hoped the Khagan would plant countless eyes across the northern frontier before marching south. We will put out every single one of those eyes.”
Li Chi looked to Yè Zhāngerzhú.
“Before this northern campaign, Elder Yè will personally lead a team to sweep through the Northern Desert first. He will select a contingent from among you to take with him.”
“Before the main army reaches the northern frontier, your mission is to sharpen your own eyes — and blind the enemy’s.”
“*Hu!*” — Another unified roar.
It had to be said: what was being proposed here was something rare in the centuries of conflict with the Black Martial people — a true offensive strike.
And north of the Yānshān lay not just the Northern Desert, but the Outer Steppe — ten thousand li of grassland that made men’s mouths water just to think about.
If this battle went well, it would mean more than pushing the border back to the Báishān line. It would mean reclaiming that vast steppe and returning it to the dominion of the Central Plains empire.
When Chu lost the Outer Steppe, they had effectively handed the Black Martial people the world’s finest breeding grounds — an inexhaustible supply of warhorses, an endless source of cavalry.
Take it back, and all those horses, all that cavalry, would belong to Níng.
“Your Majesty!”
Just then, a voice came from outside the door, accompanied by a bowed figure. “Forgive my boldness, Your Majesty — I want to go to the Northern Desert.”
Li Chi looked out and saw it was Bó’értè Chìnà.
As the staunchest ally of the Níng army, Bó’értè Chìnà had naturally been invited to the Grand Ceremony of Li Chi’s enthronement in Chang’an.
He had been outside chatting with Xiàhóu Zhuó, who had mentioned the upcoming campaign in the Northern Desert. Bó’értè Chìnà had perked up at once.
He came rushing to the hall — like a child who’d heard his parents were going out somewhere exciting and feared they wouldn’t bring him along.
Li Chi laughed. “When the main army moves out, you’ll go — that’s natural. It’s not the right time yet.”
Bó’értè Chìnà bowed low. “Your Majesty, if your servant were to bring a cavalry unit to assist the Court of Justice agents, it might have a surprising effect.”
Li Chi asked, “How so?”
Bó’értè Chìnà said, “Your servant will bring cavalry into the Northern Desert and spread word that I intend to take revenge on the Iron Crane Tribe and march north. When that news reaches the Iron Crane Tribe, they will not commit all their forces to the Black Martial cause — they will hold back a large number of elite cavalry in reserve.”
Li Chi considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Good. But wait until after the Grand Ceremony before you go. Have your men head into the Northern Desert first to scout the terrain and warm up.”
Bó’értè Chìnà broke into a grin at once, bright and happy as a child who has just been told he will, after all, be taken on the outing.
He dropped to his knees with a thud. “Your Majesty, ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand upon ten thousand years!”
Honestly, Li Chi still wasn’t quite used to people kneeling before him and shouting “ten thousand years.”
Just as he still hadn’t fully gotten used to calling himself *zhèn* — when he spoke, he still said *wǒ*.
After helping Bó’értè Chìnà to his feet, Li Chi said, “You can send men back to the Nálán Steppe right now. Have the generals bring the cavalry toward Chang’an.”
“Yes!” Bó’értè Chìnà answered instantly, wheeled around, and sprinted out.
Li Chi looked to Elder Yè. “Elder, the Grand Ceremony…”
Elder Yè smiled. “Your Majesty just owes your servant a good drink.”
Li Chi laughed. “I owe all of you a good drink. When we’ve beaten the Black Martial people, we’ll drink together atop Báishān!”
“Your Majesty, ten thousand years! Ten thousand years! Ten thousand upon ten thousand years!”
Every man bowed low in unison and cried out.
—
Not long after, Elder Yè led the hand-picked elite force out toward the Northern Desert — twelve Chief Agents among them, eight from the original Court of Justice and four newly promoted from the merged Military Intelligence Bureau.
They also brought twenty-four hundred Black Cavalry riders, and a mounted unit of about a hundred and twenty steppe cavalry commanded by one of Bó’értè Chìnà’s trusted generals.
Their mission: before the great army clashed with the Black Martial people beyond the pass, to clear the Northern Desert of every threat and map every inch of its terrain.
Sharpen your own eyes. Blind the enemy’s.
—