Li Chi and his group spent the night in Dafang Town, and early the next morning set out again toward Yunyin Mountain. One more day of travel would bring them to Jingkou County for the night.
A year ago, the outskirts of Jizhou City had been a scene of utter chaos — rebel armies marauding freely, with hardly a single county town that had not been attacked, harassed, or even seized outright.
After Prince Yu decided to raise his banner, he had pacified the majority of the rebel forces. The remainder, those unwilling to be brought to heel, had thrown in their lot with Yu Chaozong. So within Jizhou, and especially over the past half year, rebel armies had become all but invisible.
As a result, order had been somewhat restored to the various counties. Refugees had begun trickling home, and places like Dafang Town and Jingkou County had recovered a faint pulse of life.
The last time Li Chi and his companions had traveled back through Jizhou from Yanshan, the road had looked like something out of a nightmare — bleak and desolate, not a soul in sight.
Jingkou County had been sacked by the rebels once. Many of its buildings still bore the scars, and by all appearances the people there were getting by on two words alone: still alive.
After entering the city, Li Chi tried to find a decent inn to stay in. He wasn’t especially particular about accommodations, but there simply wasn’t anything that could be called decent.
The group included Madam Xiahou, Gao Xining, and Xiahou Yili — three women — and he could hardly just park them anywhere.
So Li Chi decided once again to invoke a tiger’s name as his own flag. The group rode straight up to the gates of the county yamen.
Prince Yu’s authority token still had plenty of life in it, and the effect was immediate. The yamen staff dissolved into a flurry of panic. Magistrate Zhang and his underlings conferred at length before ultimately deciding to lodge Li Chi and the others at Yiyuan — the Garden of Ease.
The garden had been commissioned by a retired court official who had returned to his hometown of Jingkou County before his arrival and arranged to have it built on a plot of over a hundred mu. That man had been a client of Liu Chongxin’s faction, and so had felt entirely secure in his dealings.
Then, not long after he returned, the rebels sacked Jingkou County. They stormed Yiyuan, seized the retired dignitary, made off with a great deal of gold and silver, and demanded a ransom of one hundred thousand taels.
What the rebels never anticipated was that the old man had hidden his silver somewhere he’d told absolutely no one — not even his own son.
He told the rebel chieftain: “None of them know where the silver is hidden. Not even my son. Release me, and I’ll give you the silver.”
The rebel chieftain said, “Who the hell do you think you’re fooling?”
The old man said, “Truly, only I know where it is. I never told my son. If you don’t release me, you won’t get a single copper coin.”
The rebel chieftain said, “Not only are you calling me an idiot, now you’re threatening me.”
So he had the man beaten savagely, until his mouth was a ruin of blood and broken teeth — and even then the old man kept shouting that they would not see a single copper if he didn’t walk free. The rebel chieftain said, “You really are something.”
In the end, the old man died of his injuries. The rebels never collected the ransom. Eventually, given how close the area was to Jizhou City — barely a hundred li away — the city dispatched troops to sweep the region, and the rebels scattered.
The dignitary’s family, fearing further raids if they remained in such a conspicuous place, packed up and moved to Jizhou City to live.
Even so, a few servants were left behind at Yiyuan to keep the grounds clean, and the family head, now living in the city, would occasionally return for a few days.
When the county magistrate called on the estate in person and arranged for Li Chi’s party to be lodged at Yiyuan, Li Chi expressed his gratitude. It was only then that Magistrate Zhang, hesitant and cautious, ventured to ask for Li Chi’s name. Li Chi didn’t even bother refreshing his lie — it was the same tired story he’d been telling for two years, not a word changed.
“My surname is Li. Given name, Dui. I work for the Prince’s household.”
After giving this reply, Li Chi asked: “Magistrate Zhang, are there any martial halls or martial sects in Jingkou County? If not, what about escort agencies?”
Magistrate Zhang turned the question over carefully in his mind, still unable to work out what this Li gentleman — with his rather blunt-sounding name — was after.
“There are several martial halls, and some sects as well. The largest is called the Gate of the Hanging Blade — roughly a hundred or so disciples. All registered with the local authorities. You need not worry about any trouble on that front, sir. I will also deploy every constable and runner we have to stand watch outside Yiyuan.”
Li Chi asked: “The Gate of the Hanging Blade — how did it come by that name?”
Magistrate Zhang said: “The story goes that the sect’s founding master fought his way across the entire northern frontier without meeting a single equal. To mark this, he hung his blade above the gate — and declared that anyone wishing to issue a challenge must first take down that blade and demonstrate a full form with it. The blade weighed over a hundred jin. Very few could even lift it.”
Li Chi immediately asked: “Is the blade still there?”
“It’s gone.”
Magistrate Zhang replied: “When the rebels sacked the city, they carried it off.”
Li Chi gave a nod. “That’s a shame. A blade weighing over a hundred jin — I’ve never seen anything like that.”
Magistrate Zhang said: “Though to be honest, it wasn’t much to look at. It had been hanging there so many years it had rusted through. And I found out later that the sect master himself couldn’t actually wield it — it was hung there purely as a deterrent. Anyone who couldn’t swing it wasn’t about to go picking fights with them.”
Li Chi thought to himself: *that’s a useful trick.* He smiled and said: “Would you trouble yourself to send someone to lead the way? I’d like to pay the Gate of the Hanging Blade a visit.”
Magistrate Zhang asked tentatively: “Is there something important you need from the Gate of the Hanging Blade, sir?”
Yu Jiuling muttered under his breath from nearby: “What important business could there possibly be at a place like that.”
Tang Pidi narrowed his eyes and looked at him. Yu Jiuling turned to stare out at the distance and said no more.
Li Chi smiled: “Call it talent scouting on behalf of the Prince’s household. I’d like to see if there are any capable men worth employing.”
On hearing this, Magistrate Zhang wasted no time, promptly arranging an escort. Li Chi left all the soldiers behind to guard Yiyuan and went to the Gate of the Hanging Blade with only Yu Jiuling and Tang Pidi.
It had to be said: the Gate of the Hanging Blade was a genuinely shabby affair. Li Chi had assumed it would merely be missing its namesake blade. What he found upon arrival was that it was missing the gate itself.
The left panel had about a third of it remaining. The right panel had a little more than a third. So with the gate “closed,” there was still a gap in the middle wide enough for two stout men to pass through side by side.
And yet, somehow, it was closed with great dignity.
Magistrate Zhang led the way in person. Once they reached the entrance, Li Chi smiled and said the Magistrate should feel free to head back — the business they had was a bit private. The Magistrate read the room immediately and took his leave.
Yu Jiuling stepped up and rapped on the gate. A voice from inside called out: “It’s not locked.”
Yu Jiuling said: “It looks pretty locked to me.”
The voice from inside said: “Where did this contrarian come from…”
When they entered, the scene in the courtyard brought them all to a standstill. There were quite a few men about. Under a tree sat several bare-chested men, their arms corded with muscle, clustered in a group — sewing and mending clothes, occasionally lifting a needle to run it through their hair to wax the tip.
The whole technique was so practiced and natural that Yu Jiuling couldn’t have replicated it.
Nearby stood several small spinning frames, where a few men were spinning thread and singing some unknown little tune that was actually rather pleasant to hear.
Farther along, some men were stitching the soles of shoes. A few large fellows were washing clothes. One pair were wringing a garment dry between them — and at the exact moment Li Chi walked through the gate, there was a loud *snap*, and the garment tore clean in two.
The two men looked at it. One said: “Well, these trousers are done for. My half might still work as an undergarment.” The other said: “Mine could probably be made into a kneeguard.”
Li Chi clasped his hands and said: “Would someone tell me which of you is the sect master of the Gate of the Hanging Blade?”
All the big men in the courtyard looked at one another. Someone muttered: “Whose turn is it today?”
One person remembered and hollered: “Little Geng, someone’s asking for you.”
A young fellow of fifteen or sixteen came running out of the kitchen, a patchwork apron — patched and re-patched and patched again — tied around his waist. He looked Li Chi’s group over and gave a bow: “May I ask what brings you gentlemen here?”
Yu Jiuling looked him up and down. He decided that this Gate of the Hanging Blade, from its surface to its core, was thoroughly half-baked.
“You’re the sect master?”
Yu Jiuling asked.
The young fellow said: “I am Zhen Gen, and today I am the sect master of the Gate of the Hanging Blade. Whatever brings you here, honored guests, please speak plainly. Oh — there’s a price list over there. If you’ve come to do business with us, you may want to have a look.”
The price list was posted on the wall of the side building. Li Chi was standing close, so he glanced over.
*Brawl: fifteen wen. Frighten a child: fifty wen. Frighten an old man: one hundred wen. Hitting a woman: not available. Verbal abuse of a woman: we admit defeat.*
*Labor by the day: twenty wen per person. Groups of ten or more: eighteen wen per person per day. Full staff: fifteen wen per person per day.*
Li Chi stared at the price list and felt his earlier impulse — to walk in and pick a fight to test their mettle — simply crumble away.
What would be the point?
Why not just hire them outright? Cheap, and in bulk.
Li Chi smiled, stepped forward, and gave a bow: “I have indeed come to discuss business. I am looking for a long-term arrangement — your entire company — so is there room to negotiate on price?”
Zhen Gen, hearing this, turned around and called out: “Senior Brother, come handle this — I can’t make this call on my own.”
A man who looked to be in his forties walked over, still trying to pin his sewing needle into his shirt as he came — he’d been mending an old garment, and out of habit he went to stick the needle in the chest of his shirt for safekeeping. Convenient for later use.
But the weather being warm, he hadn’t worn a shirt today.
The needle went straight into a rather prominent spot. The big man stopped mid-stride. His brow furrowed. Ultimately he couldn’t hold it in, and let out a sound — a wavering, multi-toned cry, trembling at the edges.
That single cry nearly sent Yu Jiuling into the next world.
The big man walked up to Li Chi, coughed a few times to cover his embarrassment, and gave a bow: “I am the Senior Brother of the Gate of the Hanging Blade. I speak for the Gate in all matters.”
Yu Jiuling asked curiously: “You’re the Senior Brother, but he’s the sect master. The sect master can’t make decisions, and the Senior Brother can?”
Senior Brother said: “We take turns being sect master. One day at a time — just for fun. But there’s only one Senior Brother, and that’s me.”
Yu Jiuling nodded: “One phrase to wake a dreaming man.”
Senior Brother said: “Tired and drowsy? Go rest a bit.”
Yu Jiuling: “…”
Li Chi said: “I’d like to hire all of you to work for me.”
Senior Brother said: “Long-term, you said? How long? If it’s ten days, don’t bother haggling. It won’t be expensive. If it’s a month…”
Li Chi said: “A lifetime.”
Senior Brother blinked, looked back over his shoulder at his fellow disciples, then turned back to Li Chi and said: “Young sir, I think you may have misunderstood us. We are respectable people. The Gate of the Hanging Blade has stood for over a hundred years, and we have always been respectable people. Taking all of us away for a lifetime — how could that be possible?”
Yu Jiuling let out a snort of laughter.
Tang Pidi, fighting back a smile with great effort, asked with perfect gravity: “What about just picking one?”
Senior Brother said: “Picking one isn’t quite right either.”
He paused, then said: “You came three of you — picking one, does that work out? You’d want at least three.”
The words had barely left his mouth before the whole courtyard full of men burst out laughing, egging the situation on. Clearly Senior Brother was trying to wind up the visitors, because the men now had the impression that these three had come to wind them up.
Li Chi said: “Let me be direct then. I run a medicine business in Jizhou — dozens of shops. I need security staff. If you’re willing to work for me, I’ll pay each of you two taels of silver per month, room and board included.”
The moment these words landed, the entire Gate of the Hanging Blade went silent.
Li Chi said: “Though I do have one requirement.”
He pointed to Tang Pidi: “Anyone who can take one strike from him may come with me.”
Then he added: “This is essentially a free pass.”
Yu Jiuling: *Hmph…*
—