The old yellow horse bore no trace of its earlier lazy, decrepit air. It leapt skyward with the fierce majesty of an enraged dragon, and this one man and one horse dared to cut through several hundred of the Iron Crane elite cavalry, slaying more than a dozen before breaking free of the formation and galloping away.
The Iron Crane riders had just had their line torn open, and now a single man had stopped them in their tracks and cut down ten more. They had no intention of letting that man and horse escape. The deputy commander shouted an order and led the troops in pursuit.
Yet the old horse ran with astonishing speed. In ordinary times it looked as though it could barely walk, but once it was running, not a single horse could keep up. As it galloped, its mane blazed like fire.
Dantai Qi was deliberately toying with the Iron Crane cavalry — drifting left, then right, looping in circles, then doubling back. Several hundred Iron Crane riders chased after him alone, led around by the nose, their column stretching into a long, winding line. Following Dantai Qi’s turns and loops, the Iron Crane formation twisted into an S-shape, then into a B-shape.
The old yellow horse seemed to grow more spirited the longer it ran. It had not charged freely across a battlefield like this in many years. In this moment, it was as though it had reclaimed a glory it had once known.
A man who survives a hundred battles unscathed may be called a god of war. A horse that survives a hundred battles unscathed is a divine steed.
Li Chi sat atop the great tent, watching in the morning light as that one man and one horse led several hundred Iron Crane riders in circles. Only one thought occupied his mind.
*How do I get this man on my side?*
This man was unlike others. He came from a family of generals — the Dantai clan was lord over Liangzhou in all but name. The common people of that region held the Dantais in reverence, and even the rulers of small kingdoms beyond the borders had to bow their heads to them.
What deserved even greater respect was that the region had long since become a remote enclave of Dachu. The court had likely forgotten how many years had passed without sending that place a single supply shipment or a single tael of soldiers’ pay — how many years had gone by without anyone even remembering that a group of hot-blooded men still stood guard at that frontier.
Tang Pidi had once mentioned in passing that if one were to name the great generals of Dachu by renown, the most celebrated was undoubtedly Prince Wu, Yang Jiju. But in terms of sheer ability, Yang Jiju was at best second. First place, in Tang Pidi’s estimation without reservation, was the Liangzhou General, Dantai Qi. After Yang Jiju, setting aside temperament and character and speaking only of the art of commanding troops, Youzhou’s Luo Geng could claim third.
Fourth, Tang Pidi had said, should be the current Military Commissioner of Yuzhou — a general under Prince Wu, Yang Jiju — by the name of Liu Li. This man came from humble origins; reportedly in his youth he had been a lone brigand who could travel a hundred li in a single night, leaving no trace anyone could follow. When Prince Wu was recruiting soldiers, Liu Li presented himself. His two arms had the strength of a thousand catties, and he fought with a pair of iron hammers — no man, it was said, could withstand him for even a single exchange.
By all appearances now, this Dantai Qi before him was the son of Liangzhou General Dantai Qi. A man like this could not, in principle, be brought into one’s service — he would sooner or later return home to take command of Liangzhou.
When Dantai Huan had once been ordered to garrison Liangzhou, he had told Grand General Xu Jilu: *Unless every last member of the Dantai line is dead, Liangzhou will forever belong to Dachu.*
For more than a hundred years, the Dantai family had kept faith with that dying decree, holding Liangzhou to the last. Though limited by geography to a force of barely ten thousand, those ten thousand Liangzhou fighting men were unrivaled under heaven.
Li Chi mused: bringing Dantai Qi under his banner would be no small task. But what if he could bring the entire Liangzhou army? How difficult would that be?
—
In the encampment.
Borjitai looked at his father. His eyes burned with fury. He did not speak, but the silent accusation in his gaze left his father, Gerritai, frantic with inner turmoil.
Borjitai’s voice rang out: “Don’t let a single one of those Iron Crane men leave!”
Nairan riders immediately surged forward — more and more of them — and within moments they had encircled the entire Iron Crane cavalry column.
At Borjitai’s single word of execution, every last Iron Crane rider was brought down under a storm of arrows.
Borjitai kept his eyes on his father. He held that gaze until Gerritai could bear it no longer and looked away, unable to meet his own son’s eyes.
“Lock him up.”
Borjitai turned away. Tears flew from the corners of his eyes.
A group of Nairan warriors closed around Gerritai. Gerritai drew a long breath and said to Borjitai: “You have a courage I never possessed. With you as leader, the Nairan will grow stronger.”
He turned and walked away, his retreating figure unutterably forlorn.
Borjitai looked toward Tang Pidi and suddenly dropped to one knee, clasping his fists. “On behalf of myself — Borjitai — I give thanks to Battleknife Tang Pi. On behalf of every member of my clan, in my capacity as Nairan Khan, I give thanks to Battleknife Tang Pidi!”
Tang Pidi quickly pulled him to his feet. “Yesterday I told you — we are already friends.”
Borjitai nodded vigorously and called out to his assembled people: “All of you remember this man — Battleknife Tang Pi — he is my benefactor, Borjitai’s benefactor, and the benefactor of the entire Nairan. From this day forward, wherever you may be, whenever it may be, if he needs the Nairan’s help, we will give everything we have!”
The crowd let out a great cry, then placed their right hands over their hearts and bowed deeply to Tang Pidi.
Half a shichen later, inside the golden-roofed great tent.
Borjitai was a decisive man. In the span of half a shichen, he had forced out the truth of exactly how many people knew the truth behind the Nairan Khan’s assassination. Whatever their rank or standing, every one of them was stripped of their position and authority.
He told them: you are all my elders, all people who watched me grow up — each of you has held me in your arms, each of you treated me as your own child. But I cannot forgive you because of that.
If I forgive you, I betray the Nairan Khan. I betray the entire Nairan clan. So now I am banishing you — you will walk barefoot for one month, heading into the most desolate lands you can find. You may carry no weapons, no food, no water. If you are still alive after a month, it is not I who has pardoned you — it is the Eternal Heaven that has forgiven you. Then you may return to the clan.
He ordered all the elders who had known the truth, along with his father, to be driven out of the clan with nothing.
Once this was done, he immediately invited Tang Pidi and the others into the golden-roofed great tent.
“Benefactor.”
Borjitai said to Tang Pidi: “I want to ask you to stay. Stay here and help me. Within the Nairan, your standing and rank will be the same as mine — your words will be my words, your will my will. Whatever conditions you name, I will agree to them.”
Tang Pidi shook his head. “I cannot stay with you. But if I truly need your help someday, I will come to you.”
Borjitai pressed him for a long while, but Tang Pidi would not be moved.
Li Chi and the others decided to rest for a day at the Nairan encampment and set out again the following morning.
It was only then that Li Chi learned that Gao Xining had already arrived with the hundred or so Blade-Hangmen and been waiting outside the camp to provide support — they had arrived only a short while after Li Chi’s group, and had been there the whole time.
By a small river, Li Chi looked at Gao Xining and couldn’t help smiling.
Gao Xining stood barefoot in the shallows, the cold water rushing over her small feet, bringing a crisp and piercing freshness. Small unnamed fish darted past her feet, and just as they drew close, a little stone came skipping through the water and startled them away.
Gao Xining turned and looked at Li Chi. Li Chi shrugged. “Those little fish had the look of shameless scoundrels all over them. Imagine daring to brush against your feet. I couldn’t allow it.”
Gao Xining burst out laughing.
She cupped her hands and splashed water at him. Li Chi stood up and made a show of reaching for his outer robe, announcing that getting his clothes soaked was unacceptable — if she was going to abuse him, she ought to abuse his person and spare his clothing.
Gao Xining was utterly baffled, wondering to herself exactly what kind of creature this man she’d fallen for actually was.
But she felt rather pleased about it, all the same.
Borjitai’s admiration for Tang Pidi had reached its peak. He kept hold of Tang Pidi all day, asking him about the outer grasslands and about the Dachu court, and Tang Pidi answered everything without reservation.
They talked for a long time. Borjitai could not have known, then, how profoundly this encounter — this conversation — would shape him.
—
The following morning the group set out again. They still had several hundred li to travel before reaching Yunyin Mountain. Xiahou Yili had told them that no matter how beautiful the scenery along the way, it would not compare even to one tenth of Yunyin Mountain.
So everyone felt a wistful longing, a keen anticipation — wondering what kind of immortal place it could possibly be.
It was truly an immortal place. Otherwise, Mister Li would never have chosen to spend the rest of his days in seclusion there.
It was at Yunyin Mountain, too, that Mister Li had first felt the wrongness of his situation. The woman he loved, who loved him in return, was being gradually eroded by time — from a bewildered girl of barely ten-odd years, into a woman of her thirties in full, mature bloom. He watched this transformation unfold and could not change alongside her, and this frightened him.
What frightened him more was that over more than a decade, he had taught that girl a boundless store of knowledge, and the more she learned, the greater and wilder her ambitions grew.
So Mister Li had truly grown afraid. He fled — by his own account, he ran like a panic-stricken dog.
Borjitai personally led his personal guard to escort them across the Nairan grasslands. Li Chi’s group would travel continuously in a northwest direction, and over the course of several hundred li of grassland, with Borjitai’s care, they traveled in comfort, wanting for nothing.
After seven or eight days of travel they reached the edge of the grasslands. Continuing northwest would take them back into the mountains.
Li Chi’s group bid Borjitai farewell with waves. Borjitai and his men watched them go, eyes fixed on their retreating figures until the last of them disappeared from sight.
In the carriage, Tang Pidi glanced at Yu Jiuling — he noticed that Yu Jiuling’s eyes kept drifting sideways toward the other cart. That cart had no canopy. On it sat the divine eagle.
Yu Jiuling would steal a glance at the divine eagle, then take a bite of dried rations. Tang Pidi suddenly understood.
“Missing pork, are we,” he said.
Yu Jiuling gave an embarrassed grin and hushed him. “Don’t let the eagle hear you… Everything on this grassland has been wonderful — the weather, the people, the men and women both — but there isn’t a scrap of pork to be had, and that is a very significant problem.”
Tang Pidi said: “You look at the eagle, then take a bite of rations. What exactly is going through your head?”
Yu Jiuling replied: “I’m not just looking at the eagle — I’m examining its various parts. Look at that snout: braised pig’s head. Look at those thighs: a big pork knuckle. Look at that rump: rear cuts. Look at those feet. Look at that tail…”
Tang Pidi sighed. “Rather than just looking, you could go lick it.”
Yu Jiuling: “Pah.”
High overhead, the little dog — Gouzi — flying ahead of the group suddenly let out several cries. It was his alarm call, signaling that something unusual lay ahead in the mountains, or that some danger was lurking there.
Hearing the call, Li Chi immediately raised his hand and waved it. The column gradually slowed and stopped.
He pointed forward, and a dozen crack soldiers spurred their horses and charged out ahead.
—