When Li Diudiu walked into the dining hall that morning, he noticed it was unusually crowded. What he didn’t know was that a new rumor had spread through the Four Page Academy the day before: someone had seen Sun Biehe lead a group of people to cause trouble for Li Chi — and they had come away with their tails between their legs. The reason, so the story went, was that the headmaster’s granddaughter had taken a fancy to Li Chi, and Sun Biehe had walked in on the two of them meeting secretly in a classroom and had been forced to slink away in shame.

Overnight, Li Diudiu had become something of a celebrity at the Four Page Academy. Plenty of students wanted to come and see for themselves what this poor young nobody looked like — the one who had apparently caught the eye of the headmaster’s own granddaughter.

And so as Li Diudiu walked in, he felt countless eyes fix on him from all sides — not a trace of goodwill in any of them.

Human nature was on full display among these finely dressed students, and it was not the better side of it.

“Hey, kid.”

A student with a rough, swaggering air stepped in front of Li Diudiu — about sixteen or seventeen by the look of him, a full head taller. Li Diudiu barely came up to his chest.

The boy leaned down and murmured in Li Diudiu’s ear, “So? You’ve had a taste of what the headmaster’s granddaughter is like? Come on, tell me — how was it?”

Li Diudiu frowned.

He recognized this person. He was one of the Four Page Academy’s more notorious troublemakers — roughly as infamous as Sun Biehe, and the two of them were birds of a feather. His name was Luo Wufan, and rumor had it he had some connection to the General Luo whose name was known across Youzhou in the north.

It was precisely because of that connection that he swaggered around the academy as he pleased — Sun Biehe himself showed a measure of deference to him.

The Youzhou general commanded the Yanyun Iron Cavalry. In official rank he was only fourth rank, far below a first-rank official like the Jizhou military governor — but everyone knew that even the Jizhou military governor gave General Luo face.

Not for any other reason, simply because the Yanyun Iron Cavalry was the sharpest fighting force in the world.

Li Diudiu looked straight up at Luo Wufan and said with complete seriousness, “The words that come out of your mouth are more revolting than excrement. Did you know that?”

Luo Wufan’s expression darkened. He reached out to grab Li Diudiu’s collar. The cook, Auntie Wu, spotted this from behind the kitchen counter and let out a frightened cry.

“You touch him and I’ll have you gelded.”

Xiahou Zuo ambled in, a strand of foxtail grass dangling from his lips, hands in his pockets. He stopped in front of Luo Wufan and looked him over. “What did you just whisper in his ear? Come on — say it again, right in front of me. Nice and loud.”

Luo Wufan’s expression grew even uglier. He took a step back. And then his face, which had been rigid and dark, suddenly broke into a smile — the speed of the transformation would have put the face-changing acrobats of the western Shu region to shame.

“Senior Brother Xiahou.”

Luo Wufan said pleasantly, “You’re here for breakfast? I won’t keep you. If you ever need anything, just say the word — whatever you need, whenever you need it…”

Xiahou Zuo sat down, propped one leg up, and looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“Did I say you could leave?”

Luo Wufan, who had already half-turned to go, froze and turned back. His smile didn’t waver. “Was there something else, Senior Brother Xiahou?”

“I believe I mentioned before,” Xiahou Zuo said, “that Li Chi is my little brother. Did you hear me say that?”

Luo Wufan shook his head vigorously. “No, no, not at all — if I’d known, would I have come over here? But now that I know, it’s simple — if he’s your little brother, he’s my little brother.”

“No, no, no…”

Xiahou Zuo mimicked his tone. “How could someone like me be associated with a distant branch relative who can barely be called part of the Luo family? That’s giving me too much credit. So you’re saying you consider yourself my brother?”

“I would never presume! Never!” Luo Wufan looked positively alarmed. “Senior Brother Xiahou is right to correct me. I spoke out of turn.”

“My little brother has been given a fright,” Xiahou Zuo said. “What do you suggest we do about that?”

Luo Wufan hesitated for just a moment, then reached into his clothing, produced several banknotes, and placed them on the table. “A gift for my little brother, to express my apologies.”

Xiahou Zuo glanced at the notes. “How much?”

“Three to five hundred taels, give or take,” Luo Wufan said.

Xiahou Zuo said idly, “Count out two hundred and leave that. Take the rest back.”

Luo Wufan didn’t ask why. He counted two hundred taels onto the table with all possible speed, tucked the remainder back into his clothes, and left without another word — moving fast enough that he was practically running.

Xiahou Zuo slid the banknotes across to Li Diudiu. “Take them.”

Li Diudiu looked at him and shook his head. “No.”

“You’re not in a rush to buy your master a place to live?”

“Dirty money,” Li Diudiu said.

“Ha!” Xiahou Zuo burst out laughing. He scooped up the two hundred taels and tore them into pieces, scattering the fragments with a sweep of his hand — a gesture so casual and effortless it looked almost elegant.

Li Diudiu frowned slightly. “You’re supposed to be the older brother here.”

“That’s right, I am.”

“Could you show a little civic responsibility? You can’t just throw rubbish everywhere.”

Xiahou Zuo paused, then sighed. “Fine. I’ll sweep it up.”

He got to his feet to find a broom, but Auntie Wu would not hear of it and hurried over to clean up herself — staring mournfully at the shredded banknotes the whole time. Two hundred taels. To someone like her, that was more money than she could earn in a lifetime.

Xiahou Zuo wouldn’t let her sweep, though. He took the broom and dustpan from her hands and said, “Go put on six servings of dumplings.”

Auntie Wu blinked. “Isn’t it always five? Four for Master Li, one for you.”

“I’m in a good mood today,” Xiahou Zuo said. “One extra.”

He swept up the floor, then sat back down across from Li Diudiu and shook his head. “I can’t believe I just swept the floor because of something you said.”

“Pay attention next time,” Li Diudiu said.

Xiahou Zuo reached over and rapped him on the head. “Getting bold, are you.”

Li Diudiu grinned.

“You little fool.” Xiahou Zuo’s tone shifted, and he sighed. “I’m leaving the academy next year — most likely headed for the northern frontier. When I’m gone, these bastards will give you no end of trouble. Can you handle it? You should understand — the more I protect you now, the more they’ll resent you for it.”

“Didn’t you know they already resent you?” Li Diudiu asked.

Xiahou Zuo stared at him. “I can’t believe you. You really know how to kill a conversation.”

“Thank you,” Li Diudiu said.

Xiahou Zuo gave him a flat look, was quiet for a moment, then continued: “Have you thought about what you’d do if I left the academy?”

“Next year I’ll be twelve,” Li Diudiu said.

“Does that make a difference?”

Li Diudiu said seriously, “There were men who became chief ministers at twelve.”

“And so?”

“Li Chi can be a killer at twelve.”

“Don’t talk big.”

“The gap between you and them,” Xiahou Zuo said, “is like the gap between mud and clouds. They have ten thousand ways to destroy you, and you can’t kill your way through all of them. You wouldn’t get the chance to kill even one before they dragged you under — and they wouldn’t just kill you. They’d bury you in filth first, pour so much mud on your name that you’d die tainted.”

Li Diudiu fell silent.

“Unless,” Xiahou Zuo said, “you could find a way within one year to make all of them afraid to touch you.”

He looked at Li Diudiu. “Do you have any idea how to do that?”

Li Diudiu shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Then you should have taken those two hundred taels. At least you and your master could have used them to run — somewhere remote and quiet, far enough away that those two hundred taels would keep you alive.”

“Can you paste banknotes back together and still use them?” Li Diudiu asked.

Xiahou Zuo let out an exasperated noise.

“Then I’ll think of something,” Li Diudiu said. “A way to make them want to move against me but not dare to.”

“First time I’ve seen someone so thick-skinned,” Xiahou Zuo said. “Who do you think you are? Luo Wufan may have no real blood ties to the Youzhou general, but his father is someone in the Jizhou military governor’s office. Low-ranking, sure — but a dog who’s picked the right master. Sun Biehe’s father and the Sun family are among the top twenty clans in Jizhou City. And you and your master are competing to be ranked dead last among the poor in this city — both of you tied for first place at the bottom. What have you got to fight them with?”

Li Diudiu sighed. “You’re making me want to write a will.”

Xiahou Zuo leaned forward. “Forget these useless books. Come north with me next year.”

Li Diudiu squinted at him. “You’d better prepare a fine coffin for my master first. If he found out I abandoned the academy to run off with you, he’d be furious enough to hang himself — though not before consuming three bowls of rice and a full plate of braised pork as a final meal.”

“…Run off with you.”

Xiahou Zuo reached over and knocked him on the head again. “Run off with you — as if.”

He sighed. “Think it over yourself. If you want to come north with me, you’d spend four or five years up there and then you could join the military. If I haven’t died in battle by that point, I could look out for you.”

“Give me six months,” Li Diudiu said.

He met Xiahou Zuo’s eyes. “If in six months I still haven’t found a way to make sure none of them will dare come after me — then I’ll go north with you.”

Xiahou Zuo smiled. “What happened to worrying about your master and the three bowls of rice?”

Li Diudiu smiled back. “Tomorrow’s a rest day. I’ll go ask him — whether the three bowls of rice are more important, or his precious apprentice’s life.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you somewhere,” Xiahou Zuo said.

He glanced over as Auntie Wu came out carrying the dumplings, and reached into the chopstick holder. Li Diudiu watched him. Xiahou Zuo rolled his eyes and handed the chopsticks across. “Fine, here, take them, take them…”

After breakfast, Li Diudiu went to the classroom as usual to open it up. Sun Rugong was already standing there waiting. When he saw Li Diudiu approach, the corners of his mouth curved into a cold smile.

“Li Chi. We should talk.”

Li Chi walked over. “Then talk.”

“I’m willing to let the past go,” Sun Rugong said. “But remember this: if ten days from now, when Teacher Yan holds the assessment, you dare take first place — I will make sure you die in Jizhou City.”

Li Diudiu said with something like pity, “Is threatening people really all you people know how to do? Is that the only tool you have?”

“You think I’m threatening you?” Sun Rugong said. “I say what I mean. I can make you disappear without a sound, and no one will ever know.”

“There’s no real grudge between us,” Li Diudiu said. “You don’t need to threaten me. Try a different approach — bribe me, maybe. That might actually work better. Think about it: haven’t you always said I’m a poor person?”

Sun Rugong’s expression brightened slightly.

He fixed Li Diudiu with a contemptuous look. “Name your price.”

Li Diudiu burst out laughing — laughing so hard tears nearly came to his eyes.

“You really are an idiot.”

He walked right up to Sun Rugong and said quietly, word by word, directly into his ear: “I’m not afraid of your threats, and I don’t want your money. You think your life is worth more than mine. Then test it. See who gets to the other first — you making a move on me, or me making a move on you. I’m an orphan. You know that. So let’s compare — whose family ends up losing more people.”

Having said this, he straightened up. He turned around, and when he saw Yan Qingzhi approaching, his expression was completely calm as he bowed. “Good morning, Teacher.”

Sun Rugong stared at Li Diudiu’s retreating back, and for the first time, he felt a cold thread of fear.

—