Yongning Tongyuan Carriage Company.

The street outside remained sealed tight. Roughly two battalions — over two thousand garrison troops — had the compound blockaded front and rear. The Bureau’s hundred-odd men had no way out. Wings would not have helped; they would have been shot down before they cleared the rooftops.

Hundred-Commander Yuan Wuxian had once truly lived without limits. As the Bureau agent entrusted with Liu Chongxin’s private manor and the surrounding countryside, there had been no money he could not pocket and no favor he could not extract.

Not only had that vast mountain estate been under his command, but several surrounding counties had been within his authority as well — making him one of the most prominent Hundred-Commanders in all of Jizhou. A distant kinship with Liu Chongxin meant that even Thousand-Commander Xu Shengyu deferred to him on occasion.

After Prince Yu had begun preparing his campaign and Liu Chongxin’s private army of ten thousand was ordered transferred to Jizhou, Yuan Wuxian and the commanding general of those troops had initially agreed to defy the summons. But Prince Yu had simply cut their grain and pay. Three months was all it took. They submitted.

The troops were folded into Zeng Ling’s command. The general who had held out died shortly after arriving in Jizhou — visiting a pleasure house, a quarrel with some unknown jianghu men, ended with his throat cut. Jizhou investigated. They were still investigating.

Yuan Wuxian had trusted his Liu Chongxin connection to protect him, and at the time Prince Yu had not moved against him directly — too early, too uncertain. Then, as matters grew pressing elsewhere, Prince Yu had simply forgotten the man existed.

His troops absorbed, the countryside outside the city growing dangerous, Yuan Wuxian had retreated to Jizhou proper.

In the city, his glory was gone. At the estate he had been a law unto himself. County officials had not dared speak above a murmur in his presence. In a drunken moment he had once made a county magistrate carry him on his back through the main street for over a *li* — reducing the man to a public laughingstock.

Here in Jizhou, there was no room for any of that. Even Xu Shengyu had to watch his step.

And none of it had prepared him for what now sat on his face in place of his features.

He had lost count of the strikes. The shoe soles had been beaten to fragments — and if the shoe soles were destroyed, what could be said of his face? A ruin of blood and swelling, nothing of his former appearance remaining. His entire body had gone numb. He had blacked out several times and been beaten back to consciousness each time.

“Let up.”

Liu Ge looked at what remained of Yuan Wuxian’s face, and quietly muttered that it was a rather alarming sight.

Liu Ge was Zeng Ling’s trusted man. He had known of Prince Yu’s old displeasure with Yuan Wuxian, and he understood perfectly the bone-deep hatred the garrison troops bore toward the Bureau. That he had given free rein tonight should have surprised no one.

“What soldiers you lot are,” Liu Ge said, sweeping a disappointed look across the Bureau agents. “Your Hundred-Commander is being beaten, and not one of you has the decency to intervene. Even if you lack the courage to step in — you could at least have begged me to stop. I’m not unreasonable. If you had asked, I would have called it off.”

Not a single one of the Bureau agents spoke.

They had spent years terrorizing people. On the street, ordinary citizens dreaded the sight of Bureau men more than they dreaded ghosts. Ghosts might conceivably leave you alone — Bureau men never did. They didn’t need cause. Looking at them wrong was enough.

They had never given a moment’s thought to what was right or wrong. They treated cruelty as recreation.

Now they were frightened.

“You are all quite cold-blooded,” Liu Ge said from his chair. “Your Hundred-Commander is in the state you see, and you are satisfied with the outcome — otherwise, someone would have spoken up when I offered the chance. No one did. Which means you wanted him to take that beating.”

Yuan Wuxian knelt swaying, held in position only by the men beside him. His lips had been split through; blood dripped in long threads. Forming words was impossible. He wasn’t certain he could feel his mouth anymore.

“Then let me help you correct these disloyal subordinates of yours,” Liu Ge said. He called out: “You all watched how Commander Yuan was dealt with. Every Bureau agent here is to receive the same, measured against what Commander Yuan received. If anyone comes away lighter, that would be unfair treatment.”

“Yes, sir!”

Garrison soldiers surged forward. Outside the carriage company, the sound resembled a sudden storm — dense, relentless, unbroken.

Liu Ge had been in good spirits all evening. The Three Moon River House had been something worth experiencing, even if the outcome was debatable. But stepping out of the carriage to find this swarm of Bureau men had dissolved his good mood in an instant.

In his view the trip had been entirely wasted — not a copper spent, and somehow still a loss.

*Pleasure followed by displeasure* — time, then, to recover the pleasure.

The garrison soldiers had years of stored grievances. They threw themselves into the work with everything they had. Weeping, howling, wailing — all of it flooded out into the night air.

Some stripped the Bureau agents’ shoes and used them on their faces, following the example set on Yuan Wuxian. Others reached for scabbards. A few applied their palms.

And perhaps, only in this one moment, those four words felt genuinely, actually true: *you reap what you sow.*

—

At that moment, from the distance came the steady beat of hoofbeats. The outer ranks of garrison troops began to part. Down the street came a mounted escort surrounding a single carriage.

The carriage drew to a gentle halt before the gate. It had barely stopped when Xu Shengyu leapt out first, holding the curtain aside and bowing as Military Commissioner Zeng Ling stepped down.

Liu Ge saw the Commissioner arrive and rose at once, striding over with a proper bow. “Your subordinate pays respects to the Commissioner.”

Zeng Ling surveyed the scene, then took in Xu Shengyu’s expression — which had achieved new depths of misery. He cleared his throat. “Stand down.”

The garrison soldiers stepped back.

Zeng Ling assumed a suitably stern expression. “Liu Ge — what is this about? Bureau and garrison troops are colleagues. How do colleagues come to brawling like this? What will the people of Jizhou think?”

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

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

“That can’t be right,” Zeng Ling said, making his eyes go wide. He turned to Xu Shengyu. “Did you arrange this?”

Xu Shengyu said quickly: “This was not your subordinate’s instruction. I had only been told that Yuan Wuxian was conducting a routine check — I had no idea there would be any confrontation with General Liu’s unit. The Bureau maintains strict discipline; drunken misconduct is not condoned.”

Liu Ge said: “If the Commissioner feels my account is one-sided, please ask Master Xu’s men to speak directly — I am not stopping anyone. This is before the Commissioner. Let each party lay out their case.”

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

Not one of those faces was recognizable. Speech was beyond most of them; faint, weakening sounds were all that remained.

“I have not stopped any of them,” Liu Ge said, his voice even. “I say my piece; they say theirs. That is not within my control. Am I supposed to tell them what to say?”

“Everyone stop arguing!” Zeng Ling’s brow furrowed. “You all serve the court. The Bureau has legitimate grounds for nighttime inspections; the garrison has scheduled drills. A minor friction should not become this. Do you want the citizens laughing?”

“Yes, sir!”

Liu Ge bowed. “The Commissioner’s words are correct. Your subordinate acknowledges his error.”

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

Xu Shengyu stared at him. “Commissioner?”

Zeng Ling observed the sorry row of Bureau agents, exhaled, and continued: “That said, a mere acknowledgment is not sufficient. Look at the condition of your men — by my reckoning, it appears the Bureau side took somewhat the worse of this.”

*Somewhat?*

Xu Shengyu stared. Zeng Ling smiled amiably. “I cannot show favoritism toward my own men. Brawling is wrong regardless of cause. Liu Ge — you and your men will face disciplinary action upon returning.”

Liu Ge bowed. “Commissioner, your subordinate does not dispute it. Wrong is wrong. Your subordinate accepts whatever the Commissioner decides.”

Zeng Ling smiled approvingly and turned to Xu Shengyu. “You see — his attitude is perfectly appropriate.”

Xu Shengyu: “…”

Zeng Ling, noting the man’s expression, added: “And will no one apologize to Master Xu?”

Liu Ge turned to face Xu Shengyu. “A great deal of offense was caused tonight. My apologies to Master Xu.”

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

Xu Shengyu pressed a smile onto his face, bowing. “The Commissioner’s handling is fair and thorough. Your subordinate is deeply impressed.”

Zeng Ling said: “My people I will take back and discipline. Your people you take back and keep in order. We are all working for the Prince now — let there be no more damage to the goodwill between us. Is that clear?”

He let his gaze settle once more on the wretched row of Bureau agents and privately decided that seeing people beaten this soundly was, if he was being entirely honest… rather satisfying.

He instructed Liu Ge: “You damaged property. Compensation is owed.”

Liu Ge looked back at his men. “What exactly did we damage?”

A subordinate answered: “Their shoes.”

“Then this is what I’ll do,” Liu Ge said. “Out of my own pocket — new shoes for every Bureau brother present.”

Zeng Ling burst out laughing. “Then that is settled. Everyone go home. No further incidents — if the Prince hears of this, you’ll all catch a scolding from him. I am burying this matter. No one is to bring it up again.”

“Yes, sir!”

Liu Ge and Xu Shengyu bowed in unison. As they straightened, their eyes caught each other’s for just a moment — each probably picturing what it would take to end the other.

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

Xu Shengyu hurried to say: “Nothing further. I see you out, Commissioner.”

Liu Ge called back as he walked away: “Open a path for our Bureau brothers — and make it wide. Their faces are swollen; a narrow gap won’t accommodate them. And those of you holding onto people’s shoes from earlier — return them. What are you keeping them for?”

He walked off.

Xu Shengyu stood where he was, fire behind his eyes.