Jizhou. The Xu household.

Xu Yuanqing stood before a bronze mirror, staring at the white hairs that seemed to have sprouted overnight, his heart awash with a creeping sorrow. It had been a very long time since anything had taxed him so thoroughly.

All these new white hairs — and all because of some mud-footed upstart named Li Chi. That thought made the new growth feel particularly unworthy of its cause.

Just as these reflections were passing through his mind, a servant called softly from outside the door: “The Old Master requests your presence.”

Xu Yuanqing’s expression shifted sharply, a thread of cold dread rising in his chest.

He had yet to report the matter of the carriage company to the Old Master. He had intended to remedy the situation first — and at least those two men were already dead. Whether they had said anything before dying was a question Xu Yuanqing no longer needed to dwell on.

He straightened his robes and went out. Crossing the sprawling Xu family manor, as he arrived at the Old Master’s study door, he was suddenly transported back to childhood — the feeling of standing here, waiting to be scolded for some transgression.

Trembling from head to toe.

Even now, thinking back on it, he couldn’t quite explain why he had been so afraid. He was in his fifties now, yet the feeling remained unchanged.

He drew a long breath and stepped inside.

The Xu family patriarch, Xu Gengmao, sat in a rocking chair. Two young maids stood behind him, fanning him slowly. He appeared to be asleep — but Xu Yuanqing knew full well that this was the Old Master’s way of applying pressure.

“Do you not intend to explain yourself?”

Xu Gengmao spoke suddenly.

Xu Yuanqing had barely opened his mouth when the patriarch continued: “Since you haven’t prepared an explanation, that means you still have some measure of confidence. You’re waiting until the matter is resolved before reporting to me. Very well — I won’t ask.”

He slowly opened his eyes and glanced at Xu Yuanqing. “However — yesterday I paid a visit to Academy Director Gao, and in his study I noticed a piece of calligraphy: an authentic rubbing of Songming’s Ascending the Sparrow Terrace. Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Xu Yuanqing said, inclining his head respectfully. “A treasure beyond price.”

“Mm.” Xu Gengmao continued. “I have also heard that Master Yuming once kept a personal seal belonging to Master Songming — an article Songming carried on his person, the only one of its kind in the world. When Yuming met his end, the Surveillance Bureau searched everywhere and could not find where the seal had gone. They say Liu Chongxin flew into a rage over it. Then this morning, when Yuner came to pay his respects, I mentioned the matter to him — and he suddenly recalled something.”

The “Yuner” Xu Gengmao spoke of was Xu Shengyu — Xu Gengmao’s great-grandchild, and Xu Yuanqing’s nephew. His father, Xu Yuanlang, was Xu Yuanqing’s second younger brother, a man who had once harbored a ferocious desire to tear his eldest brother limb from limb.

Xu Yuanqing’s own son was named Xu Shenglian. He currently served in the capital’s Ministry of War and had not returned home in many years.

So it was Xu Shengyu who lavished particular attention on the Old Master. He worked in Jizhou’s Surveillance Bureau and returned to pay his respects every few days — at bottom, merely to make himself visible. Xu Yuanqing’s own generation were Xu Gengmao’s grandchildren, and whether the position of family head would pass to Xu Yuanqing was still uncertain. Xu Shengyu had apparently decided there was a chance he might bypass Xu Yuanqing and inherit the headship directly.

Hearing all this, Xu Yuanqing felt a chill of foreboding. He bowed. “Grandfather, if there is something to be done, please simply command me to do it.”

“No need to involve you — you have your own affairs. I simply wanted to prattle on a bit.” Xu Gengmao waved a hand. “Old men grow fond of talking, but there are fewer and fewer people worth talking to. You are my most cherished grandchild, so I called you here merely to chat.”

He smiled. “Yuner mentioned that when they tracked Master Yuming down in Tang County, Li Chi was likely present at the scene. He heard you were investigating this Li Chi, and asked whether you might need his help — given that he works in the Bureau, it would be more convenient for him to act.”

“No need,” Xu Yuanqing said at once. “Let him spare the trouble. He has enough matters of his own at the Bureau.”

Xu Gengmao smiled. “You each attend to your own affairs. I have given the matter of Master Songming’s seal to Yuner. If it truly is in the hands of this Li Chi, it must be recovered.”

“Understood.” Xu Yuanqing said quickly. “There is no need for Yuner to involve himself. I will look into the seal myself.”

“You needn’t concern yourself with his affairs, and he need not concern himself with yours. I am old now — and old men enjoy watching their juniors distinguish themselves. Do you understand?”

Xu Yuanqing felt his chest tighten. He had half a mind to curse this old fox in no uncertain terms. The patriarch’s meaning could not have been plainer — this business about the seal was merely a pretext. He was unleashing both men on Li Chi. Whoever resolved the matter would be the one to receive the family headship.

“I understand,” Xu Yuanqing said, bowing low. “Then I shall return to my investigation.”

“Go on.”

Xu Gengmao released him — but added a few more words as he departed: “It was also a coincidence: yesterday, Prince Yu’s household invited me over, and I accompanied the Prince to visit Director Gao at the academy — they said he had caught a chill and was feeling unwell. Prince Yu also gave me a gift.”

He glanced at the wooden box on the table. “Inside are three blank appointment writs for prefectural officials, names yet to be filled in. The Prince said I could write in the names myself — wherever territory is taken, officials will be needed.”

At this, Xu Gengmao looked up and fixed Xu Yuanqing with a measured gaze. “Once this matter is settled, the choice is yours. If you find yourself feeling stifled here at home, pick a place for yourself.”

A great stone settled in Xu Yuanqing’s chest. Surges of impulse rose within him — he had half a mind to lunge forward and strangle this old wretch then and there.

The message could hardly have been more blunt. Wasn’t it simply saying: *fail at this and get out*?

All the years he had served this family — everything he had sacrificed — and now, because one matter had not been resolved immediately, he was to be cast out?

“I thank Grandfather for his generosity.”

Xu Yuanqing bowed and backed out of the study. The moment he stepped outside, not even the wide sky and thin drifting clouds could open any space in his heart.

That old creature treated everyone in the household as a piece on a board — everyone but himself. Anyone could be elevated to the heavens when useful, and ground beneath his heel when not.

Xu Yuanqing glanced back once, then strode away.

He had not been back in his own quarters long when a subordinate came hurrying in with news: word had come from the Military Commissioner’s mansion that tonight, Xiahou Zuo and General Liu Ge might be visiting a pleasure house — not the Twin Stars Pavilion where Gongshu Yingying was stationed, but the Three Moon River House.

“The Three Moon River House…”

Xu Yuanqing was silent for a moment. He raised his head. “A Cui family establishment?”

“Yes.” His subordinate answered, “The Three Moon River House belongs to the Cui family. The nominal proprietor is a Cui family manager named Cui Tai — though Cui Tai is only a minor figure within the family, nothing more than the manager of one of their manor courtyards.”

Xu Yuanqing turned the matter over carefully. The Cui family was not easy to maneuver around.

Jizhou was a city thick with powerful clans. In this great city that dominated the north, every faction held its own territory — interlocking, mutually entangled yet carefully non-interfering. This delicate balance was exceedingly difficult to navigate.

Yet in the minds of most people in Jizhou, there was an unspoken ranking of the city’s three most powerful families. The Xu family could only manage a tenuous third place.

First was the Xie family, second was the Cui family — their positions were beyond dispute. But the gap between the Xu family in third and those ranked below them was not so wide. Behind the Xu family stood the Wang family, whose influence in the Jiangnan region far exceeded even the Xie family’s — yet in the great northern cities, the Xie family’s strength consistently outpaced the Wangs.

“The Cui family are not easy to deal with,” Xu Yuanqing’s subordinate said. “Our men cannot easily bring weapons into the Three Moon River House, and once inside it would be difficult to act — the Cui family, after all…”

The rest went unspoken. The Cui family did not particularly defer to the Xu family.

The Xu family, the Xie family, the Wang family — all were branches of clans that had relocated to Jizhou at various points. Only the Cui family had always been here. Going back several hundred years, the Cui family’s position in Jizhou had been unshakeable. Beyond Jizhou, the Cui family might afford the Xu family a degree of courtesy — but within Jizhou, the Cui family had no obligation to show face even to the Xie family.

“Prepare my change of clothes.”

Xu Yuanqing said after a moment’s silence. “Tonight, I will go to the Three Moon River House and take a look.”

—

At the same time, in the Jizhou Prefecture Surveillance Bureau.

What was pitiable was that the Bureau’s men here still had no idea that their great ancestor — the figure known as the Five-Thousand-Year — Liu Chongxin, was already dead. The capital’s Bureau had already been taken over by Jing Ting’s command.

The advantage, for now, was that since no one in Jizhou knew Liu Chongxin was dead, his disciples and subordinates could still run roughshod through the city.

They still believed themselves protected by Liu Chongxin, and imagined that no one would dare cross them.

The disadvantage was that once Prince Yu’s forces pushed their way to the South Pingjiang region, word of what had happened in the capital would surely reach them — and for all of Liu Chongxin’s disciples in Jizhou, their good days were probably numbered.

“Commander.” A subordinate bowed. “We have made inquiries. This Li Chi currently operates a carriage company. He has a close relationship with Xiahou Zuo, and since Prince Yu has departed Jizhou, Xiahou Zuo serves as garrison commander in his absence. If we rashly offend Li Chi, Xiahou Zuo may cause difficulties for us.”

Thousand-Commander Xu Shengyu sat in his chair, idly swinging one leg. After his subordinate finished, he nodded slowly. “It seems my great-uncle’s difficulties aren’t entirely a matter of incompetence — after all, Xiahou Zuo is involved. We have been cut off from the capital for too long. Otherwise we wouldn’t need to show Prince Yu’s faction quite so much deference.”

He rose and paced the room. “But what my great-uncle cannot manage does not necessarily mean it truly cannot be managed.”

He gave his orders: “You have two days. Find me everything about everyone in the Yongning Tongyuan Carriage Company — their names, their registered origins, everything. You know what to do. The Bureau still has that much authority. With the Prince preparing to march, having the Bureau conduct a sweep of non-local residents in Jizhou is entirely legitimate.”

The Surveillance Bureau was a formidable institution. Liu Chongxin served as its Superintendent, beneath whom were left and right commanders, twelve Thousand-Commanders, and over a hundred Hundred-Commanders.

Within the Bureau’s own terminology, Thousand-Commanders were called “Commanders” or “Senior Commanders,” while Hundred-Commanders were also addressed as “Commander” — presumably because the title sounded more prestigious.

Bureau Hundred-Commander Yuan Wuxian bowed. “Commander, allow me to handle this. I processed Master Yuming’s case when I was stationed in Tang County — there may be additional threads to pull.”

Xu Shengyu nodded. “That does make you a suitable choice. Go and see how deep the water runs in that carriage company. Don’t stir up trouble — don’t forget whose dog you’re kicking. Just go and run a population check on the non-locals. Get a clear picture of their people first, then we’ll see.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Good.” Yuan Wuxian replied. “I’ll take men over shortly and keep it clean.”

“Mm.” Xu Shengyu waved him off. “If Master Songming’s seal is truly there — what would something like that fetch?”

Yuan Wuxian said: “Hard to say. In Jizhou, there would be buyers willing to spend a considerable sum, but nothing compared to what you’d get in the capital. In Jizhou, perhaps thirty to fifty thousand taels; in the capital, fifty thousand or more.”

He paused, then added: “If the world were at peace, the seal could be worth hundreds of thousands.”

—