If one could look down from above, the scene inside and outside the Surveillance Bureau at that moment would have been quite something to behold.

Outside the compound, dense ranks of armored garrison troops continued sending volleys of arrows into the courtyard, while inside, thick smoke billowed and cries of anguish merged into a single unbroken din.

What made the men of the Surveillance Bureau most desperate was that they weren’t even afforded the chance to take someone down with them — they could only be slaughtered.

The garrison troops had no intention of charging in. They had spent the entire night in careful preparation — not only marshaling a force at least several times the size of the Bureau’s own, but also positioning water carts around the compound’s perimeter to prevent the fire from spreading.

As it happened, there was little danger of it spreading.

The root cause came down to the Surveillance Bureau’s own tyranny. When the Jizhou branch office had been built, the construction required demolishing private homes — over a hundred households had been ordered to relocate, with no resettlement provided whatsoever. Before long, those hundred homes were razed to the ground. Once the Bureau compound was completed, the newly transferred garrison commander, a man named Liu La, had arrived from the capital already nursing a belly full of resentment.

He’d been assigned to Jizhou as a commander and was none too pleased about it. Though he wielded sole authority here, he missed the splendors of the capital, and being posted to a regional office meant there was no path forward in the Bureau’s ranks. His frustration had to go somewhere, and so it spilled onto the people around him. When he saw that the surrounding residences still stood too close to the compound walls for his liking, he flew into a rage and ordered them cleared. Anyone who refused to leave was burned alive in the night.

And so the ground around the Bureau compound had been left bare in all directions — not a single structure within at least thirty-odd zhang.

Many, many years later, the Bureau compound itself would be consumed by fire.

But many, many years ago, those innocent people who had been burned to death could not have known what fate awaited the Bureau.

People would say it was divine retribution. People would say it was justice, however long delayed. Those who said so might even say it with considerable feeling.

At this moment, the men inside the Bureau had two choices: charge out and be shot to death by arrows, or stay put and be burned alive.

The garrison deployment had given the Bureau no time to react. When dawn broke, the troops assembled and moved swiftly toward the Bureau. Once in position, they immediately sealed off every exit.

Liu Ge sat astride his horse watching the roaring flames, thinking it was rather a shame about such fine buildings.

Men terrified of dying in the fire continued to rush out in waves, falling one after another in the gateway or along the compound walls.

The Bureau’s men were well-equipped, and their individual martial skills were nothing to dismiss — but they were given no opportunity to resist.

“Who’s out there!”

A furious shout rang out from within the compound.

“I am Xu Shengyu, garrison commander of the Surveillance Bureau. I am coming out!”

Xu Shengyu appeared at the main gate, face gray with soot, wanting to see for himself who had come to destroy the Bureau.

Liu Ge raised his hand in a signal, and the soldiers at the gate lowered their bows.

Xu Shengyu stepped to the gate and looked at Liu Ge. The murderous intent in his eyes surged instantly.

“Liu Ge — how dare you!”

Xu Shengyu raised a finger and jabbed it toward Liu Ge.

Liu Ge sat calmly on his horse, watching the roaring Xu Shengyu. When the man had finished his shout, Liu Ge raised his hand. In it was a repeating crossbow.

His finger squeezed the trigger. Bolts snapped out in rapid succession.

Xu Shengyu was still pointing his finger at Liu Ge, still screaming curses — and then the bolts arrived. Thud thud thud — a series of dull impacts, and Xu Shengyu staggered back two steps. He looked down at the bolts in his body, his eyes wide with disbelief.

He raised his head slowly and looked at Liu Ge. “You — how dare you—”

Thud thud thud.

Liu Ge had swapped to a fresh repeating crossbow and emptied the magazine.

He dismounted and walked unhurriedly to the gate. Xu Shengyu had already fallen and lay looking up at Liu Ge. Liu Ge strolled over to his side and began firing point-blank into his face.

Xu Shengyu’s head jerked back and forth with each impact. In moments, his face was studded with crossbow bolts.

Liu Ge looked down at the now-motionless Xu Shengyu and sighed. “I thought you came out to beg me for mercy. Instead you cursed at me.”

He squeezed the trigger twice more. The magazine was empty; the crossbow clicked hollowly.

He turned and walked back, speaking as he went. “Drag Xu Shengyu’s body to one side. His family may want it back — clean him up a bit, he looks terrible like that. Though of course, the Xu family may not be in any position to look after themselves anymore.”

The men who heard this were rather at a loss. The face of the man lying in the dirt had crossbow bolts hammered into it from every angle. How exactly were they supposed to make him look presentable?

The siege continued for several hours, from dawn until nearly sunset. In truth, no one had tried to rush out for quite some time, but the garrison troops weren’t about to wade into a burning compound to check. Only when the flames had burned down considerably did they begin dousing them with water.

When they went in, what they found was too grim to describe.

—

Prince Yu’s Residence.

Prince Yu and Military Commissioner Zeng Ling were playing chess. Prince Yu sat with his head bowed, contemplating his next move, when the steward outside lowered his voice and said, “Your Highness — Xu Gengmao has been kneeling at the outer gate for two hours now. Your Highness gave instructions to be reminded when the time was up. The time is up.”

Prince Yu gave a sound of acknowledgment, set down his piece, and looked at Zeng Ling. “I can’t win. I concede.”

Zeng Ling smiled. “Your Highness’s victory was never on the board.”

Prince Yu smiled and gave an order. “Go bring that old man inside. He’s been kneeling at his age for two full hours — if we wait any longer, I’m afraid he won’t have the strength to face me.”

Zeng Ling laughed heartily and bowed. “I do wonder where the Xu family found such confidence, thinking they could call the wind and rain in Jizhou City. One Xu Shengyu dies, and now Xu Gengmao finally understands what posture he should take — but it’s already too late.”

Prince Yu gave a low sound of acknowledgment and stepped outside, where his gaze fell on the young heir Yang Zhuo kneeling before the door. His expression immediately darkened.

“Father, I know I was wrong. I truly know I was wrong.”

Yang Zhuo saw his father emerge and kept kowtowing in contrition.

“Keep kneeling.”

Prince Yu glanced at him and walked on.

Yang Zhuo looked plaintively at Commissioner Zeng Ling. “Commissioner Zeng, please save me.”

Zeng Ling gave him a small shake of his head and a quiet sigh, then quickened his steps to catch up with Prince Yu. As they walked, Prince Yu said, “He grows more and more unruly with each passing day. Does he really think I know nothing of what he does?”

Zeng Ling said, “The Young Heir was only trying to ease Your Highness’s burdens. It was the Xu family who deceived and used him.”

Prince Yu said angrily, “He’s the heir, and he’s constantly being used by others — if that’s not incompetence, what is? Incompetent and arrogant all at once — that’s worse than foolish. If I don’t teach him a lesson this time, heaven only knows what he’ll get up to next.”

Zeng Ling glanced back at Yang Zhuo. The young man had been begging pitifully moments ago, but now that his father had walked out of sight, he had already dropped to a sitting position on the ground — kneeling was clearly no longer on his agenda.

Zeng Ling suppressed a sigh and looked away.

—

The Carriage and Horse Inn.

Li Chi and the others were waiting for their meal when Yu Jiuling came rushing back in from outside. He was grinning before he’d even crossed the threshold.

“The Surveillance Bureau has been razed to the ground. That garrison commander, Xu Shengyu — dead. Over a thousand people, all told. Prince Yu really doesn’t pull his punches.”

He got that far before remembering that Xiahou Zuo was also present, and he immediately shut his mouth.

Xiahou Zuo gave him a sidelong look. “Continue.”

Yu Jiuling smiled awkwardly and went on. “The Xu family patriarch — what’s his name, Xu Gengen or some such — spent a full half-day kneeling outside Prince Yu’s gate. They only let him in just before I came back. My guess is the Xu family is about to be bled dry.”

Xiahou Zuo let out a slow breath. “Honestly, I had a fairly good idea of what he’d do yesterday. He’s about to raise troops, and he needs a rallying banner — and Xu Shengyu just happens to be a Surveillance Bureau commander. Who better to make an example of?”

Yu Jiuling asked, “So in your reckoning — will the Xu family be completely ruined this time?”

Xiahou Zuo shook his head. “It won’t be that simple—”

He stopped there and said no more. He didn’t want to continue.

His words had barely finished when someone else came in from outside — one of the inn’s workers, who ran up and said, “Just now I saw the Xu family patriarch being thrown out of the Prince’s residence. Not sure what happened.”

Xiahou Zuo was silent a moment, then turned to look at Li Chi. “Do you want to go watch the Xu family’s compound being raided? If you go now, you should be able to get a front-row view.”

Li Chi found himself at a loss for how to answer.

Xiahou Zuo said quietly, “I’m staying in Jizhou. The Xu family has a grudge against you. My father knows my temperament — he knew I’d stand up for you. That made you a threat to the Xu family. So he burned down the Surveillance Bureau first, then moved to eliminate the Xu family entirely—”

He gave a rueful smile. “He’ll say it was to clear away dangers on my behalf. But in truth it’s also a warning shot aimed at every other great family in Jizhou — once the Xu family is wiped out, the rest of them will understand exactly where they stand.”

He looked at Li Chi and exhaled slowly. “The way he operates — hasn’t it always been like this? Once he decides to act, he never leaves loose ends. When he does something, he does it clean and complete.”

—

Outside Prince Yu’s Residence.

Xu Gengmao sat collapsed on the ground, his eyes hollow with despair.

He murmured to himself, “The Xu family — is finished.”

He hadn’t fully understood at first what the Xu family had done wrong. They had been among the very first to offer Prince Yu a hundred thousand taels of silver. Why had the Prince turned on them with such ruthlessness?

Then he understood. Prince Yu needed a family to make an example of — to cow the others. And other circumstances had pushed the Xu family into exactly the position that had been chosen.

What had seemed like trivial matters had become the spark that ignited the Xu family’s destruction.

Besides, the Xu family was a suitable choice — not so powerful as to be untouchable, yet not so insignificant as to send no message.

Xu Gengmao had come here prepared to surrender half his family’s fortune to save them. But once inside, he understood: the two hours Prince Yu had made him kneel outside was never a rebuke. It had been idle sport.

He had barely finished saying he was willing to offer the family’s assets in support of the Prince’s campaign before Prince Yu stood up and left without another word.

And then, without warning, someone shouted that the old scoundrel Xu had dared to insult His Highness and had even raised a hand against him.

Then he was thrown out.

In the moment he was hurled through the gate, he understood: Prince Yu had never been waiting for the offering. He had simply decided to take it himself.

He watched squadron after squadron of cavalry thunder out from the Prince’s residence. No one spared him a glance. The riders swept past him. It wouldn’t be long before the Xu family met the same fate as the Surveillance Bureau.

“Yang Jixing — you are truly ruthless. You are truly ruthless.”

—

The Xu Family Compound.

The patriarch had been gone since morning with no word of his return. Heaven only knew how the negotiations at the Prince’s residence were going.

Everyone in the Xu family with any standing had gathered in the patriarch’s courtyard to wait for news.

“Something’s wrong!”

Someone came running in, shouting in alarm: “Cavalry! Cavalry has broken through the gate!”

—