Mister Yan and Daoist Changmei had barely arrived at Daizhou Pass when they found themselves in the middle of a Black Wu assault. Mister Yan was half a scholar at heart, someone who had once romanticized the world of iron and war — but after living through the actual carnage, he came to understand one thing: the brutal horror of a real battlefield made any literary praise or depiction written without firsthand experience nothing more than shallow, self-indulgent moaning.

Stirring verse written by someone who had never witnessed it was nothing but overwrought affectation.

Mister Yan was only half a scholar, however. The other half of him was a martial practitioner, which meant his capacity to withstand it was considerably greater than a full scholar’s. Even he was shaken to the core — which made all those fanciful lines of verse seem all the more hollow when he thought of them now.

Having seen it with his own eyes, Mister Yan understood: there were simply no words in his mind sufficient to capture it. An ordinary person would probably have been frightened half to death. Anyone of a timid disposition would have already fled with their hands over their head.

When the great battle ended, Mister Yan lowered his head and looked at his hands. The fingers of his right hand, the one that had drawn the bowstring, had all been rubbed raw, the skin split open.

He looked out at Li Chi, who was moving through the chaos issuing commands — and in that moment he understood that perhaps he had nothing left to teach this young man. Some people are born steadier than others. The greater the scene, the more composed they become.

What struck him most deeply was that the garrison soldiers on the wall obeyed Li Chi’s orders without the slightest hesitation or passing of the buck. The moment Li Chi’s command went out, it was carried out. Every person chose to trust him without a second thought.

Mister Yan asked himself honestly: if he were in Li Chi’s place commanding the defense of the city, the fear inside him would probably have been visible for all to see.

“Mister.”

After Li Chi had finished giving orders he ran over, took Mister Yan’s hand and looked at it, then immediately drew the deer-hide pouch from his waist and dusted wound medicine onto it, wrapping the injured fingers in gauze.

“I completely forgot to warn you — I only just remembered now.”

As Li Chi said this, his face was full of self-reproach.

Mister Yan looked at this young man, now as tall as himself, and his eyes filled with warmth. When other children of fourteen were still clinging to childishness and dependence, Li Chi’s fourteen had already made him a capable commander. And that was at fourteen or fifteen — how many people at twenty still clung to childishness and dependence and were reluctant to let go?

Yet such a commander’s time here would be brief. Once Prince Wu’s army arrived, all the people around Li Chi who held somewhat unusual identities would have to leave. Prince Wu had zero tolerance for rebel forces — he would not care one bit what these men who had come from rebel ranks had contributed to holding the city. He concerned himself only with the fact that they were rebels.

Prince Wu had been leading troops to sweep Jizhou clean of rebel forces, and in every engagement he left no survivors.

These men who had just spilled their blood on this city wall — the most likely fate awaiting them when Prince Wu arrived was to be hauled down and beheaded by Left Martial Guard soldiers.

“Li Chi — in the fighting just now, were you afraid?”

Mister Yan couldn’t help but ask.

Li Chi gave a small nod. “At first I was scared half to death. But you can’t let people see that you’re scared. Everyone here is a grown man — if they aren’t afraid, why should I be? After fighting a few more times I stopped being afraid.”

Mister Yan made a sound of acknowledgment and said nothing more.

A fourteen-year-old boy already unafraid of fighting. What, then, was there left in the world that would ever frighten him?

The Black Wu forces receded like a tide. Everyone let out a breath of relief — yet this was not the end of the battle, not even the end of the day. The more they failed to break through, the more enraged the Black Wu would be, and the next assault would come harder and fiercer.

“Mister, go down and rest for a while. I’ll head down soon too.”

After finishing the bandaging on Mister Yan’s hand, Li Chi ran to check on his teacher. Daoist Changmei was not well suited to close combat, and his archery was no better — but the great flag in his hands had never stopped waving. Every person who lifted their eyes could see that flag still standing.

A battle flag is the soul of an army. While the flag stands, the soul does not fall.

“You must be exhausted.”

Li Chi helped Daoist Changmei sit down. Daoist Changmei let out a long sigh and said, “Diudiu, I had already stopped wanting to object to you going to the frontier or going to join Yu Chaozong — but after today’s battle…”

Li Chi smiled and said, “That’s all a matter for later. Didn’t I promise Teacher? No matter what, I’ll finish at the Academy first. Teacher has always said everything they teach at the Academy is useful, and there are still about three years until graduation. Teacher, put your mind at ease.”

Daoist Changmei nodded. He knew he was in no way a great or noble man, and he harbored no such lofty ideals. He only wanted Diudiu to grow up safe and sound, to live his life in peace and security. He himself had endured hardship for half his life — all he had ever asked for were those four words: a peaceful and prosperous life.

“Teacher, go rest with Mister Yan below the wall for now. I’ll bring food down to you shortly.”

Li Chi called someone to help his teacher down from the wall, then walked over to Xiahou Zuo’s side and quietly let out a long breath. Xiahou Zuo took one look at him and knew Changmei had said something again, so he reached over and gave Li Chi a pat on the shoulder.

“Your teacher is not wrong.”

Xiahou Zuo said.

Li Chi nodded. “I know Teacher is right. It’s just that what I want is more than that.”

Xiahou Zuo said, “At his age, the thing he fears most is losing a child before his time… if something truly happened to you, how could your teacher bear it?”

Li Chi smiled, “So what do you think I should do?”

Xiahou Zuo said, very seriously, “That’s why you have to be sneaky about it — deceive him when you can, hide things when you can. Just like me.”

He raised an eyebrow.

Li Chi smiled, “I suppose that’s the only way. Keep him placated for now.”

Just then, Li Chi suddenly noticed something was wrong on the far side of the city wall, in the direction of the Black Wu encampment. Coils of black smoke were rising from one side of the camp, and the fire seemed to be spreading quickly.

He immediately raised the spyglass and looked toward the Black Wu camp. He saw a cavalry unit of roughly one or two hundred riders burst out of the encampment. The sight made Li Chi’s face change drastically. He thought to himself — could that be the same unknown hero as before?

What a daring spirit. What reckless courage.

A cavalry unit of one or two hundred men — and they had dared to raid the Black Wu encampment twice. The first raid had burned the grain and fodder supplies of Lüchi’s army, forcing Lüchi to withdraw early. And now this second raid — this was the encampment of the Black Wu Khan-Emperor himself, holding hundreds of thousands of troops — and these one or two hundred men had dared to burn it again?!

“This person is the bravest warrior alive today!”

Li Chi couldn’t help but cry out.

Xiahou Zuo had also heard that someone had burned the Black Wu grain supply with a force of one or two hundred men — and now here they were doing it again. This was not something any normal person would dare to do.

“Xiahou! Give me three hundred cavalry!”

Li Chi suddenly shouted.

Xiahou Zuo immediately raised the spyglass and looked. He could see that the unit which had burned the Black Wu encampment was now heading in the direction of Daizhou Pass, with a massive Black Wu cavalry force in hot pursuit behind them.

“We have to save them!”

Li Chi shouted urgently.

Xiahou Zuo said, “I’ll go with you.”

Li Chi shook his head. “The two commanders of the city cannot both leave at the same time. I’ll go out to escort them back. You hold the troops on the wall and guard against the Black Wu — if they get close, your archers will need to hold them off.”

Xiahou Zuo had no choice but to agree, and had his deputy general Ansong lead three hundred elite cavalry to go with Li Chi. To open the gates of Daizhou Pass was a perilously dangerous decision — yet neither Li Chi nor Xiahou Zuo hesitated for even a moment.

The gates swung open. Li Chi rode out on a war horse in a rush of wind, three hundred cavalry raising a cloud of dust as they thundered out behind him.

Across the way, the cavalry unit was riding hard toward Daizhou Pass. One of the young riders asked their leader, “What if Daizhou won’t open its gates? We’ll all be finished here. Ejin said we could come and help, but we absolutely cannot expose our identities — if the Black Wu capture us, the whole tribe faces annihilation.”

The leader was a young man who burst into laughter. “Just trust me. Ride straight for Daizhou Pass — the gate will open.”

The young rider who had spoken before said, “Tang Pi, how can you be so sure? What if you’re wrong?”

Tang Pidi laughed, “If I’m wrong, I’ll give you my Lieyan.”

Zhebei said, “If you’re wrong, we’ll all be dead. What use would I have for your Lieyan?”

Tang Pidi looked back. At least several thousand Black Wu cavalry were in hot pursuit right on their heels. Yet his face showed not a trace of worry — he remained utterly at ease and carefree. He laughed and said, “The Black Wu have a proverb: a man cannot stumble twice on the same stone. Today I’m going to make them stumble on our stone twice, and there’ll be nothing they can do about it.”

Zhebei truly admired his good brother Tang Pi’s confidence. Since Tang Pi had come to their tribe, the tribe’s strength had grown steadily, and the territory of their grazing lands had expanded continuously. In three separate engagements when the forces of larger tribes came to attack them, Tang Pi had led the defense and driven them all back each time.

When word came that the Black Wu were pushing south, Tang Pi went to ask the Ejin to send troops in support. But the Ejin refused no matter what, and even pleaded with Tang Pi not to go — the Ejin said that these were the Black Wu, not just another steppe tribe. The Black Wu commanded millions of soldiers. Provoke them and the tribe would be wiped from the earth.

But Tang Pi paid no attention to that. If the Ejin would not give him soldiers, he would come alone. But his influence in the tribe was too great — too many people believed in him. The moment word spread that he was going, all two hundred of his old comrades from before appeared before he even walked out the door, and Zhebei was among them.

Zhebei was the Ejin’s own son. That even he had come showed just how high Tang Pi’s standing in the tribe was — so high that people forgot he was a boy of only fifteen.

Tang Pidi saw the pursuers closing in. He deliberately slowed his horse, drifting from the front of the column to the back. Even at a full gallop, the horse remained steady enough that Tang Pi was not thrown. Tang Pidi faced the Black Wu cavalry chasing behind him and drew his bow, loosing arrows toward the rear — one arrow, one target; not a single shot missed. In just a brief moment, more than twenty of the Black Wu riders at the front of the pursuit had been shot from their saddles. No one in the formation dared to press closer — no one wanted to be the one who stuck his head up first. By then Tang Pidi had emptied his quiver, and he let out a great laugh, turned back around, urged his horse forward, and that horse named Lieyan seemed to sense Tang Pidi’s intention, opening its legs in a full-speed gallop until in no time at all it was back at the front of the column.

“Look!”

After he returned, Zhebei pointed ahead and said, “Just as you said — Daizhou Pass is opening its gates.”

Tang Pidi burst into laughter and looked back at the Black Wu pursuers.

“When I come, you cannot stop me. When I go, you cannot hold me. Ha ha ha ha!”

That fifteen-year-old boy — riding high on the pride of youth.

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