Yuan Wuxian felt a humiliation without limits.

*How had the sky simply turned?* Once, as a Bureau Hundred-Commander — and not merely any Hundred-Commander, but the one entrusted with managing Liu Chongxin’s private estate back in his home district — there had been no money he couldn’t pocket, no favor he couldn’t demand.

Not only had that vast manor complex been under his authority, but several surrounding counties had also fallen within his jurisdiction — making him one of the most enviable Hundred-Commanders in all of Jizhou. A distant kinship with Liu Chongxin meant that even Thousand-Commander Xu Shengyu had extended him a certain degree of courtesy.

After Prince Yu had begun preparing his campaign, Liu Chongxin’s private army of over ten thousand had been ordered transferred to Jizhou. At first, the general in command of those troops had consulted with Yuan Wuxian, and both had decided to ignore Prince Yu’s summons.

But Prince Yu had his methods. He cut off their grain supply. Then their military stipends. After three months, they submitted.

Those ten thousand or so soldiers were absorbed into Jizhou under Military Commissioner Zeng Ling’s command. The general who had defied the summons died in an accident some months after arriving in Jizhou — he had apparently antagonized a group of jianghu wanderers while visiting a pleasure house, a brawl broke out, and the man had his throat cut on the spot. The Jizhou authorities launched an investigation, of course, and were still investigating.

Yuan Wuxian had banked on his kinship with Liu Chongxin to shield him from Prince Yu’s attention during that period — Prince Yu had not yet dared to move against him directly, since the connection with the capital had only recently been severed and the future remained uncertain.

Then, as things grew busier, Prince Yu had simply forgotten about this minor figure.

With his soldiers absorbed and rebel forces active in the countryside outside the city, Yuan Wuxian no longer dared to remain at Liu Chongxin’s estate. He retreated to Jizhou proper.

Back in the city, Yuan Wuxian found that his glory days were behind him. At the estate he had been unchallengeable; the county officials of nearby districts had not dared breathe too loudly in his presence. He had once, in a state of drunkenness, made a county magistrate carry him on his back — the magistrate had crawled down the main street for over a *li* while onlookers laughed.

Now, in Jizhou city, there was no room for such conduct. Even Xu Shengyu had to keep his head down.

And yet none of that had prepared Yuan Wuxian for what had just happened to him at the gate of a carriage company.

He had lost count of how many times he had been struck. The soles of the shoes had been beaten to tatters — and if the soles were ruined, what had become of his face? It was a swollen mask of blood, his original features unrecognizable, his whole body gone numb. He had passed out a few times, and each time been brought back around by the next blows.

“Let up.”

Liu Ge looked at what had been Yuan Wuxian’s face, and muttered: *That is somewhat alarming.*

Liu Ge was Zeng Ling’s trusted man, and had long known of Prince Yu’s grievances with this particular Yuan Wuxian — on top of which he understood the deep, settled hatred the garrison troops bore toward the Bureau. That he had given it to them this thoroughly tonight should have surprised no one.

“What soldiers you lot are,” Liu Ge said, turning to regard the Bureau agents. His tone was that of a disappointed mentor. “Your Hundred-Commander is being beaten, and not one of you has the decency to intervene. Even if you’re too afraid to step in, you could at least have begged me to stop. I’m not an unreasonable man — if you’d asked, I’d have called it off.”

Not one of the hundred-odd Bureau agents made a sound.

They had been bullying people for years. On the street, ordinary citizens feared the sight of Bureau men more than they feared ghosts. Ghosts might conceivably not harm you — Bureau men would. And they didn’t need a reason. Being looked at wrong was reason enough.

And now, they were afraid.

“You really are cold-blooded,” Liu Ge said from his chair, glancing at them. “Your Hundred-Commander is in the state he’s in — and none of you want it stopped. Had you wanted it stopped, someone would have spoken up by now. Since no one has, I can only conclude you find the spectacle agreeable.”

Yuan Wuxian knelt there barely able to stay upright. His lips had been split open, blood dripping in long threads. Had the men beside him not been holding him in place, he would have been flat on the ground long before now. Forming words was beyond him. He was no longer certain where his mouth was.

“Allow me to discipline these disloyal subordinates for you.”

Liu Ge called out to his soldiers: “You’ve all seen exactly what Commander Yuan received. Every single one of these Bureau agents is to receive the same. If anyone comes away lighter, that would be unfair.”

“Yes, sir!”

Garrison soldiers surged forward, seizing the Bureau agents. Outside the carriage company, it sounded like a sudden storm — dense, unbroken, relentless.

Liu Ge had been in good spirits all evening. The question of whether he had come out on top at the Three Moon River House was arguable — but he had been broadly satisfied. Then he stepped out of the carriage and found this swarm of Bureau men, and his good mood evaporated entirely.

In his view, the Three Moon River House trip had been wasted — even though it hadn’t cost him a single copper.

*First pleasure, then displeasure.* Time to get the pleasure back.

The garrison soldiers, years of pent-up grievance finally given an outlet, threw themselves into the work without the slightest restraint. Bureau men wept and howled and shrieked into the night.

Some followed the example set on Yuan Wuxian — pulling off the Bureau agents’ shoes and using them on their faces. Others used scabbards.

In this one moment, at least, the phrase *reaping what one has sown* felt genuinely, completely true.

—

Then, from the distance: hoofbeats. The outer cordon of garrison troops began to part, and down the street came a mounted escort surrounding a carriage.

It drew to a gentle stop before the carriage company gate. The moment it halted, Xu Shengyu sprang out, lifted the curtain and bowed as Military Commissioner Zeng Ling stepped down.

Liu Ge saw his superior arrive and rose immediately, striding forward. “Your subordinate pays respects to the Commissioner.”

Zeng Ling surveyed the chaos, then took in Xu Shengyu’s expression — which had achieved new depths of ugliness. He cleared his throat and said: “Stand down — all of you.”

The garrison soldiers stepped back.

Zeng Ling put on a furrowed brow. “Liu Ge — what is the meaning of this? Bureau men and garrison troops are colleagues. How does this come to brawling? It is beneath you both. What will the people of Jizhou think?”

*Brawling.* At that word, Xu Shengyu’s expression darkened another shade.

Liu Ge answered promptly: “Reporting to the Commissioner — your subordinate was leading a nighttime drill when we encountered Hundred-Commander Yuan and his Bureau unit. For reasons unknown — perhaps the Hundred-Commander had been drinking, perhaps he suffered some momentary loss of reason — he ordered his men to block the troops’ passage, obstruct our formation, and then threatened to haul your subordinate to the Bureau’s detention cells.”

“How could that be?” Zeng Ling widened his eyes and looked at Xu Shengyu. “Is this something you arranged?”

Xu Shengyu said quickly: “This was not your subordinate’s doing. I was only informed that Yuan Wuxian had gone on a routine check — I did not anticipate any confrontation with General Liu. The Bureau maintains strict discipline; we do not endorse any intoxicated misconduct.”

Liu Ge said: “If the Commissioner feels my account is one-sided, please ask Master Xu’s men directly — I am not preventing them from speaking. This is before the Commissioner. Let each party say what they will.”

Xu Shengyu pointed at the row of devastated agents, voice rising: “General Liu — you want them to say something?!”

Not one of those faces was recognizable anymore. Speech was beyond most of them; faint moans were all that remained.

“I am not stopping any of them,” Liu Ge said, his tone mild. “I say my piece; they say theirs. That is not something I control. Am I supposed to dictate their answers?”

Xu Shengyu’s expression hardened. “Don’t you think, General Liu, that you have gone somewhat too far with this?”

“Enough — all of you!” Zeng Ling said sharply. “You serve the same court. The Bureau has cause for nighttime inspections; the garrison has its drill schedules. Minor friction should not escalate into this. Do you want the citizens laughing at you?”

“Yes, sir!”

Liu Ge bowed. “The Commissioner’s rebuke is just. Your subordinate acknowledges the error.”

Zeng Ling looked at Xu Shengyu. “You see? He has acknowledged his error.”

Xu Shengyu stared. “Commissioner?”

Zeng Ling looked over the sad row of Bureau agents, exhaled, and said: “Of course, an acknowledgment alone is not enough. Look at the state of your men — by my observation, the Bureau side seems to have gotten somewhat the worse of this.”

*Somewhat the worse?*

Xu Shengyu stared at Zeng Ling. Zeng Ling smiled pleasantly. “I cannot show partiality toward my own garrison men. Starting a brawl, whatever the provocation, is a breach of military order. Liu Ge — you and your men will be disciplined upon your return.”

Liu Ge bowed his head. “Commissioner, your subordinate does not dispute the charge. Wrong is wrong. Your subordinate willingly accepts whatever discipline the Commissioner deems appropriate.”

Zeng Ling smiled and turned to Xu Shengyu. “You see — his attitude is entirely acceptable.”

Xu Shengyu: “…”

Zeng Ling, noticing the man’s expression, added: “And will no one offer Master Xu an apology?”

Liu Ge turned to face Xu Shengyu. “I gave considerable offense tonight. My apologies to Master Xu.”

Zeng Ling said: “There — he has apologized.”

Xu Shengyu wrung out a smile and bowed. “The Commissioner’s judgment is equitable and thorough. Your subordinate is deeply impressed.”

Zeng Ling said: “My men, I will take back and discipline. Your men, you take back and rein in. We are all working for the Prince now — let us not fracture the goodwill between us. Is that understood?”

His gaze drifted once more to the battered row of Bureau agents, and he noted — if he was being honest with himself — that seeing people beaten this thoroughly was… rather satisfying.

He instructed Liu Ge: “You broke something. You owe them compensation.”

Liu Ge glanced back at his men. “What did we break of theirs?”

His subordinate said: “Their shoes.”

Liu Ge thought it over. “Very well — I’ll pay out of my own pocket. New shoes for every Bureau brother here.”

Zeng Ling laughed heartily. “Then that settles it. Everyone disperse. No further incidents — if the Prince hears of this, you’ll all catch a scolding. I’m burying this matter. No one is to bring it up again.”

“Yes, sir!”

Liu Ge and Xu Shengyu bowed in unison. As both men straightened, they caught each other’s eyes for just an instant — each probably imagining what it would take to put the other in the ground.

“The night grows late and I am tired,” Zeng Ling said, turning to leave. “Does Master Xu have anything further?”

Xu Shengyu said quickly: “Nothing further. I’ll see you out, Commissioner.”

Liu Ge called back over his shoulder: “Make a path for our Bureau brothers — and make it wide. Their faces are swollen; a narrow gap won’t fit. Also — those of you who took people’s shoes during the altercation — give them back. What are you hanging on to them for?”

He walked away.

Xu Shengyu stood where he was, something burning behind his eyes.

—