Gao Xining thought it over carefully, then looked at Li Chi. “There’s something I’ve never quite been able to work out. That young man just now — whether he was deceived or came for some other reason — he didn’t seem like a bad person.”

She asked, “So what is the law of a country for? Is it written for good people, or for bad people? Good people must abide by it — yet bad people need not, and can do anything they please: deceive and threaten without consequence.”

Li Chi was caught off guard. He had not thought about the question in quite those terms before.

“Law ought to restrain bad people and protect good people. That’s the idea, isn’t it.”

Gao Xining said, “And yet it doesn’t seem to do much of either.”

Li Chi thought for a moment, then replied, “Even without effective enforcement, the law still provides a standard. Those above the standard are good people; those below it are bad people.”

“But if there’s no enforcement, what use is the standard?”

Li Chi said, “In times of good governance, law carries great weight. In a Dachu like this one — law is a dead letter.”

Gao Xining nodded slowly. “Then — shouldn’t the agency that enforces the law be free from interference by local authorities? Local officials who control the law enforcement agencies are not being constrained by the law — they are constraining the law. So there needs to be an agency that operates independently of all others — only then can the law’s impartiality be best guaranteed.”

Li Chi said, “That reasoning holds — but have you considered? An enforcement agency that is answerable to no one, the moment it begins to break the very laws it is meant to uphold, cannot be checked by anyone. Take the Surveillance Bureau of today’s Dachu — the original intention of the emperor who established it was to create exactly that: an enforcement agency independent of the regular government apparatus.”

“That was the Dachu emperor making use of the wrong people.”

Gao Xining asked, “What if such an agency answered directly and solely to the emperor — with the emperor himself as its only check, rather than delegating that authority to someone else? Wouldn’t that be considerably better?”

Li Chi said, “Considerably better, yes — but it requires one condition: that every generation of emperors keeps the agency firmly in hand, and that no emperor in the line is a foolish or incompetent one.”

Gao Xining said, “The current method of succession is by eldest son. What if that were changed — if the emperor could select from among his children the most capable heir? Would that not be an improvement?”

Li Chi shook his head. “Easier said than done. First — parents favor their own legitimate blood, and emperors especially regard the children of the empress above all others. No matter how outstanding another consort’s son might be, it means little — he steps to the back. Second — setting aside favoritism entirely, how does one even begin to define ‘most capable’? The question is far too difficult.”

Gao Xining said, “Give it more thought.”

Li Chi let out a short laugh. “Why should I give it more thought — worrying on the emperor’s behalf?”

Gao Xining smiled but said nothing.

Li Chi said, “Though you are right about one thing: a powerful and authoritative law enforcement agency absolutely cannot be handed over to just anyone.”

Gao Xining nodded, lost in thought.

The night was beautiful. Still. The two of them sat in the courtyard talking as the night deepened. The soldiers who had been drilling had long since returned to their beds — only these two remained. To any observer from the outside, it would have looked for all the world like a young man and woman murmuring secret words that no one else was meant to hear. No one could have guessed they were talking about this.

Strange, any way you looked at it — these did not seem like the kinds of problems that people their age were supposed to be thinking about.

And perhaps that was precisely what set Li Chi and Gao Xining apart from ordinary people.

—

Zhaoyue Avenue was one of the main north-south and east-west thoroughfares of Jizhou City, in the southern quarter of the city. On both sides of the avenue, shops stood in close rows. Unlike the capital’s layout — which was divided into enclosed market-wards, with its curfew applying to the main streets between wards while life within each ward was relatively unrestricted — Jizhou was more open in its arrangement. Each of the capital’s market-wards was surrounded by its own walls, like so many small independent cities within the city. Jizhou was different. This openness was somewhat better for the common people, though it was harder for the authorities to manage than the ward system.

Li Chi had never been to the capital, but he had heard about the market-ward layout, and when he imagined it, he found he didn’t like it.

Somewhere in an alley off the southern side of Zhaoyue Avenue, Gang Gang was making his way back with two men slung across his shoulders — with tremendous difficulty. He had to avoid the watchers, avoid the night patrol, and on top of that haul two men who were not light. The hardship of it went without saying.

But he wasn’t ready to simply hand them over yet. If he had wanted to, he wouldn’t even have had to wait — the moment he’d stepped off the depot grounds and onto the main street, he only had to stand still and someone would have come to collect the two men.

The gate of the small courtyard swung open with a creak. When Gang Gang saw Chen Dawei waiting inside, he knew Chen Dawei had already told the two masters everything.

“Master knows?”

Gang Gang asked the moment he came in.

“He knows. It wasn’t me that told him — those two old foxes…”

Chen Dawei said helplessly.

Gang Gang knew Chen Dawei would never have volunteered it — if anything, he would have waited until morning. He handed one of the men to Chen Dawei, then stepped quickly inside.

Both masters were seated in the main hall. Neither expression was pleasant.

“Kneel!”

Gangcai’s bark came sharp.

Gang Gang dropped to his knees with a thud. Chen Dawei knelt by pure reflex.

Gangcai raged: “You two have gone completely out of hand!”

Chen Youwei — Chen Dawei’s master — shot a look at them both, then turned to Gangcai. “What’s done is done. Scolding them isn’t going to help right now. We need to think about what comes next.”

Gangcai glared at Chen Youwei. “You’re the one who coddled them into this.”

Chen Youwei said, “You old dog — you bite everyone when you lose your temper?”

Gangcai said, “Who do you think spoiled these two little wretches?”

Chen Youwei huffed and said nothing. Gangcai’s temper was indeed the harsher of the two; Chen Youwei was different — he believed that too much constraint on children was harmful, so if Gangcai was the stern father, Chen Youwei was often more like a lenient mother. The two old brothers had long played the red face and white face off each other.

“Why did you even bring them back?”

Gangcai shot a glare at Gang Gang.

Gang Gang quickly recounted the full course of events, and said to his master: “No matter how I look at it, I can’t see that Li Chi and his people are the kind of remorseless evildoers they were made out to be. I think Chen Dawei and I were deceived. I brought them back to ask them what this is actually all about.”

“Fool!”

Gangcai’s eyes went wide as saucers. He snapped: “If you hadn’t brought them back — regardless of who was right or wrong — this matter would have ended there. Even if the people who hired you were dangerous enough to silence you, we take the silver and leave Jizhou. Done. But you brought them back without handing them over — and now you’re in deeper than ever!”

Gang Gang said, “Master — I don’t want to be a person who acts without knowing right from wrong. That’s what you taught me.”

Gangcai reared back to give his apprentice a kick. Chen Youwei caught him in midair and pulled him back. “What the boy is saying isn’t wrong. Getting the facts straight — that’s a peace of mind worth having.”

Gangcai raged: “This has nothing to do with us! It’s already entangled with two of Prince Yu’s sons — is this something we should be meddling in? Even if you did it for the silver, even if you did it so your masters could live a few comfortable days — you do the job and let it go! The rule is you don’t ask questions about who hired you! How many people have been silenced for knowing too much?”

Gang Gang shook his head. “Master — the reason I wanted to get to the bottom of it is precisely because I think if Chen Dawei and I were deceived, then whether we ask questions or not, we might end up silenced either way. Given that, why not find out the truth first?”

Gangcai raged: “How did I end up with such a blockheaded apprentice?”

Chen Youwei said, “You picked him yourself. Besides — would you dare say he’s any different from you when you were young?”

Gangcai said, “Rubbish! Was I this foolish?”

He was quiet a moment, then exhaled and said: “Even if I was this foolish when I was young — at least I was better-looking.”

Chen Youwei: “Ha… pfft!”

Gangcai steadied himself and said: “Wake them up. Get the truth out of them. Then put them under again and dump them in the street. We need to find somewhere else to stay.”

Gang Gang said, “I think that Li Chi is a person of great future — the fact that he let me go free, handed over the captives — that kind of breadth and spirit, I have a great deal of respect for.”

Chen Dawei said, “You mean, once we’ve sorted this out, we throw in our lot with Li Chi? He may not even want to take us in.”

Chen Youwei thought for a moment and said, “Things have already come this far. Sort it out first and then decide. But… your master’s idea of dumping them in the street — that won’t do. If we’re going to silence them, we have to do it properly. We can’t leave any loose ends.”

Gangcai gave the order: “Go draw some water. Splash these two awake.”

—

Meanwhile, at the Xu household.

Gonghu Yingying came in through the back gate, crossed the rear courtyard, and went quickly to Xu Yuanqing’s study. She gave a quiet call from outside. Xu Yuanqing had not yet retired — he opened the study door immediately.

“Sir.”

Gonghu Yingying said urgently: “That man called Gang Gang succeeded. Our people saw him bring the captives out. But he didn’t hand them over to us — he deliberately avoided our people and slipped away.”

Xu Yuanqing thought for a moment, then said, “He’s probably trying to squeeze more silver out of us — using Yaobusheng and the others as leverage against us. That’s how these low-grade riffraff from the rivers and lakes tend to operate.”

Gonghu Yingying said, “We were going to silence them anyway. Now it’s clear — these two, and their masters, none of them can be allowed to leave.”

Xu Yuanqing nodded. “You know more people in the jianghu than I do. Go find out where those two are staying. Tonight, we cannot let them escape.”

“Yes.”

Gonghu Yingying acknowledged the order, turned, and made to leave. Xu Yuanqing added one more word at her back.

“Be careful.”

“I… I know.”

Gonghu Yingying glanced back at Xu Yuanqing, then left quickly.

—

Back at Gang Gang’s lodgings.

Gangcai and Chen Youwei sat watching as their two apprentices tried to rouse the unconscious men. The two had been laid out face-down. Whatever drug had been given to them had put them into a sleep so deep that two buckets of water splashed over their backs hadn’t woken them.

“Flip them over first, you idiots,” Gangcai glared at his apprentice. “If you keep splashing their backsides, do you think their rear ends are going to wake up before their heads do?”

Gang Gang laughed sheepishly and flipped the first man over. Gangcai looked at his face, and his expression changed. “Shi Su?”

Chen Youwei made a sound of recognition. “The former third-in-command of the Wind-Thunder Sect.”

Chen Dawei flipped the second man over. Gangcai looked over to see who this other figure might be — some other known figure from Jizhou City’s jianghu, presumably — and the moment Chen Dawei turned Yaobusheng face-up, Gangcai shot to his feet. Chen Youwei was on his feet just as instantly.

The two men looked at each other, and both faces had gone somewhat pale.

“Why is it *him*?!”

“How is that possible?!”

—