“Looking back on this past year, it seems like things have mostly gone our way…”

Mr. Yan drained his cup in one go and looked at Li Chi: “We originally expected the Xu Family to make another move soon — but a year has passed and they’ve done nothing. Even Gao Liang seems to have disappeared.”

Li Diudiu said: “Xu Qinglin swore to observe three years of mourning. By all accounts he hasn’t even left the house in that time.”

Yan Qingzhi said: “The Xu Family sent word to the Academy earlier, saying he’ll come for the final examinations before graduation.”

“Never mind all that — drink.”

Li Diudiu raised his cup toward Zhuang Wudi: “You’re leaving tomorrow. One more cup.”

Zhuang Wudi hadn’t had a drink in over a year. His old tolerance had been impressive — yet now, having barely drunk anything at all, he was already having trouble sitting straight.

“Down it goes!”

But he didn’t back down.

One cup, bottomed out.

Yu Jiuling had drunk more than his share, and was hanging off Zhuang Wudi’s arm like a pendant, crying for a good while already, hiccupping with sobs.

“You brooding silent type — when you go back to Yanshan, when will you come back and see us?”

“Not unless there’s something to come back for.”

Zhuang Wudi looked at Yu Jiuling, then smiled. “But if there’s ever something — send word, and I’ll come. Through fire and blade, I’ll come.”

Those words sent Yu Jiuling into another round of wailing sobs.

“Li Chi,” said Zhuang Wudi, looking at him. “The Xu Family has made no moves this year — that doesn’t mean they’ve given up on killing you. My read is this: Xu Qinglin’s father is dead, and their standing in the Xu household has probably dropped sharply. Old Master Xu may have given strict orders forbidding Xu Qinglin from doing anything further while in mourning.”

“I know,” said Li Diudiu. “Don’t worry about us, Big Brother Zhuang. A year ago we weren’t afraid — now we’re even less so.”

Zhuang Wudi was drunk enough that his words came more freely than usual, and tonight Li Diudiu and the others discovered that he had a great deal to say — it was just that, when sober, he found it too much effort and couldn’t be bothered.

“Speaking of which…” Zhuang Wudi let out a sigh. “This past year, Hand has robbed and swallowed twenty or thirty underground factions, big and small. And in all that time, we haven’t recruited a single member. Still five people. When I go back to Yanshan, you’ll be down to four.”

Li Diudiu smiled: “What do we need more people for?”

“Drink!” Zhuang Wudi raised his cup. “I want to drink until I’m collapsed on the floor tonight. Tomorrow I want to leave still half-drunk — that way it won’t look like I’m so reluctant to go.”

One cup. Down in one.

The five of them drank on and on, and no one knew exactly how long. They ended up asleep right there in the main room. In what felt like a blink another year had passed, and it was nearly time for the new year again — last year at this time, Zhuang Wudi had said to himself that there was no way to pay New Year’s respects to his elder brother.

This year he wanted to be home for the new year — he wanted to give Yu Chaozong his greetings in person.

When Zhuang Wudi woke, his head was pounding terribly. That shouldn’t have been the case — in the old days, he’d wake after a heavy night’s drinking feeling clear and refreshed. Now a modest amount like this had him reeling. How humiliating.

He rubbed his eyes and sat up. He had drunk himself into such a state, he thought with some surprise — still swaying. Had he really been asleep a whole night?

Then he realized something was off. It wasn’t him swaying — it was the room swaying.

“An earthquake?!”

Zhuang Wudi shouted in alarm.

Then there was a burst of laughter. Looking around, Zhuang Wudi found that Li Chi and Yu Jiuling were both right there beside him — and they both looked insufferably pleased with themselves.

“Where are we?” Zhuang Wudi said, now fully confused.

“On a carriage,” Yu Jiuling said with a grin. “Li Chi told us all about it long ago — you came alone, but you’re not leaving alone. And you’re not leaving empty-handed either. Otherwise, what would Yu Chaozong think? He’d say: ah, Zhuang Wudi, your new brothers are really not worth much.”

Yu Jiuling pushed open the carriage door and pointed backward. There was another carriage following behind them, driven by Mr. Yan, with Changmei and Mr. Yan sitting side by side on the driver’s bench.

Yu Jiuling grinned: “We’ve loaded you a full carriage of gifts to bring back. Can’t have Yu Chaozong thinking we’re stingy.”

Zhuang Wudi opened his mouth, and for a moment found he had nothing to say at all. He genuinely hadn’t imagined that Li Chi and the others would see him all the way home.

“It’s only about twenty days there and back. And Li Chi happens to be on his Academy holiday.”

Yu Jiuling said: “Think of it as a little excursion. We’ll escort you to Yanshan and then head straight back to Jizhou — we’ll make it by New Year’s Eve.”

Zhuang Wudi looked at these two, and his eyes grew faintly, almost imperceptibly damp.

Li Chi smiled: “When you get back, go easy on the drinking. Your tolerance now — don’t go bragging about it when you get home.”

Zhuang Wudi smiled ruefully and shook his head: “I think I finally understand why my elder brother made me go a year without drinking. First, to keep me from drinking during a mission and making mistakes. Second, because he felt I’d been drinking too much and damaging my health. A whole year dry, and I’ve fallen this far.”

For the entire year-plus he had been away, he had never once returned to Yanshan Camp. And the eighteen men he had brought with him to Jizhou — none had ever come back to find him. He had felt something off about it all along, but had been unable to do anything.

He had been assuming that perhaps his elder brother had kept those eighteen men behind for some reason — otherwise they surely would have returned to Jizhou to find him by now.

“Want some more?” Yu Jiuling picked up a flask and shook it. “Dare you take me on? You’ve had a while to sober up.”

Zhuang Wudi startled: “How do you know that nickname?”

Yu Jiuling roared with laughter: “You told us yourself last night when you were drunk! You challenged me to a drinking contest, said you didn’t think much of me, asked me if I knew your nickname. I said I didn’t. You said: the name Yanshan Camp knows me by is ‘Sobered Up in Half a Day.'”

Zhuang Wudi covered his face: “The shame of it…”

Yu Jiuling: “It’s not too late to recover your dignity. I’ll drink a full flask; you drink half. You in?”

“Well—”

Before he’d even finished speaking, Yu Jiuling had already lifted a flask and was gulping it down steadily. He drained the whole thing, lowered it, wiped his mouth, and said: “Well? Impressed or not?”

Zhuang Wudi grabbed a flask and was about to drink. Yu Jiuling grabbed his arm: “Water. That one’s water.”

Zhuang Wudi gave him a look — and then burst into peals of laughter. He didn’t even know why he wanted to laugh so badly. He laughed until he was doubled over, and he, who had once been a man who almost never smiled no matter what Yu Jiuling said, a man whose expression wouldn’t shift through a hundred jokes — today, he laughed like a child.

—

Ten days later. Yanshan Camp.

Li Diudiu’s group left Zhuang Wudi at the foot of the mountain and refused, no matter how he urged them, to come up. Li Diudiu gave a simple reason: if they went up, they’d inevitably be kept for drinks, and Yu Chaozong was that kind of man — once you were his guest, you wouldn’t leave in a day. Three days of drinking later, and Li Diudiu’s group would be completely exposed.

“We’re going to hunt some game and head back. Big Brother Zhuang, go on up — and if you miss us, come find us in Jizhou.”

Li Diudiu pressed his fists together and said with mock solemnity: “Remember — you still owe me a pair of underpants.”

Zhuang Wudi burst out laughing — and as he laughed, his eyes went damp again. He pulled the carriage up the mountain road, walking a few steps, then turning back to look.

He hadn’t gone far when he looked back and found the others already gone. He blinked — that was fast.

Then Li Diudiu and the others came leaping out from behind the trees, laughing like idiots, waving with big exaggerated gestures.

Zhuang Wudi pretended that some wind had blown something into his eye, raised his hand to rub it — then waved back with full force.

He hadn’t gone much farther before Yanshan Camp’s patrol scouts spotted him. When they realized this was the Seventh Master who had been gone for over a year, the mountain bandits stared in stunned silence.

Half an hour later, at the main stronghold of Yanshan Camp.

Zhuang Wudi found that the stronghold had grown noticeably larger since he had left, and the force seemed more substantial too.

When he had gone down the mountain over a year ago, he had been worried — the Left Martial Guard under Prince Wu’s personal command had been encamped at the foot of the mountain.

Later he learned that Prince Wu’s target hadn’t been Yanshan Camp at all. The whole show of intimidating them had been a cover for his dealings with the grassland peoples. Prince Wu had apparently done quite well for himself that time — reportedly walking away with three thousand warhorses from the transaction.

“Seventh Brother!”

Yu Chaozong heard the news that the Seventh Master had returned. He came charging out without even getting his robe on properly — he’d been sitting cross-legged on the heated kang chatting with someone when he heard, and was out the door in moments, shoes barely on his feet, shuffling along in a manner more befitting a family member than a celebrated green-forest lord.

“Elder Brother.”

Zhuang Wudi moved to close the distance, then dropped to one knee in a full bow: “Seventh Brother is home.”

“Home, you’re home — home is good.”

Yu Chaozong was visibly moved. He helped Zhuang Wudi to his feet and looked around behind him. “Wait — why did you come back alone? Where are the men you took with you?”

At those words, Zhuang Wudi’s expression shifted sharply.

“Elder Brother, shortly after I arrived in Jizhou, I discovered that Fifth Brother—”

Yu Chaozong’s face changed — and then he let out a booming laugh: “Look at you, you’re half-frozen. Let’s talk inside, the kang is warm…”

He turned and called back: “Bring a proper spread of food and wine!”

Zhuang Wudi knew immediately that something was wrong. He said nothing more and followed Yu Chaozong inside.

As they walked, Yu Chaozong called out instructions: “The Seventh Master is back. I’m going to share a few drinks with him — no visitors, no matter who comes. Is that understood? No matter who.”

The two of them went inside and had the door closed behind them.

Yu Chaozong took hold of Zhuang Wudi’s hands and asked: “What happened?”

“I had barely been in Jizhou long when I figured out that Fifth Brother was likely the one behind the attempt on your life. He’d gone to Jizhou and was quietly sending people around to find out who had saved you — obviously he wanted to silence those witnesses.”

Yu Chaozong’s expression flickered slightly. “Everyone said Fifth Brother had run away.”

“He didn’t run,” said Zhuang Wudi. “He’s dead.”

He recounted what had happened, then asked Yu Chaozong: “I was afraid the message might be intercepted, so I had the eighteen men I brought with me split into six groups of three and return to Yanshan Camp separately to report to you. Not one of them came back?”

Yu Chaozong nodded. “None of them reached me. If they had entered the stronghold, I would certainly have known — they likely never even made it through the gates.”

A flash of killing intent passed through Zhuang Wudi’s eyes.

“Elder Brother, Fifth Brother isn’t the only one in the stronghold who wanted you dead.”

Yu Chaozong looked at him for a moment, then let out a long, slow sigh: “Seventh Brother, things in the stronghold are not the way they were when you left.”

“What do you mean, Elder Brother?”

“These days… most of the men here are hoping that Prince Yu comes and absorbs us.”

Yu Chaozong said: “A few months after you went down to Jizhou, Prince Yu sent envoys. They were straightforward about it — said that Prince Yu would one day become Emperor, and that anyone who pledged loyalty now would have their leaders appointed as generals in the future.”

Zhuang Wudi went pale: “And you agreed, Elder Brother?”

“I didn’t want to agree.”

Yu Chaozong said: “But aside from Third Brother and myself, everyone else wanted to. I called all the stronghold leaders together to discuss it, and eight in ten were in favor.”

Yu Chaozong was silent for a moment, then sighed: “I have to respect the wishes of the people. I can’t be their leader and then act as a tyrant.”

In Zhuang Wudi’s chest, a fire was rising — the kind that made a man want to kill.