Ruan Chen was riding in the carriage ahead when he heard shouting from behind and turned to look. He saw the two chubby little Daoist monks climbing out of their carriage, cursing and grumbling, clearly looking for someone to pick a fight with.

Ruan Chen hurried down from his own carriage, but by the time he’d asked what the trouble was and looked around again, the two were already gone — likely deciding not to make more of it and slipping away while they could.

Those two were obviously not from the Central Plains. Going by their clothing, they appeared to be people from the northern steppes, which meant their entry into the city might not have been entirely aboveboard. The garrison soldiers guarding the gates didn’t much care whether you had travel documents or not — so long as you pressed enough silver into their palms, they’d wave you through with a grin.

These soldiers of the Military Command garrison could naturally recognize steppe clothing at a glance. By rights, they should have conducted a thorough inspection. Then again, perhaps the two had legitimate travel papers after all — theoretically speaking, the various tribal peoples north of Yanshan were counted as subjects of Dachu.

“Go and dig them up.”

Ruan Chen gave the order, and his men scattered at once.

He smiled. “Let’s head back first. I’ll introduce you to our chief, and we can talk about everything else after that. As long as those two don’t leave Jizhou City, we’ll flush them out.”

Peng Shiqi felt a sudden premonition. Ruan Chen’s words had a distinctly jianghu flavor to them, and they made him start to wonder whether the chief of this horse-and-carriage company was really the sort of venerable elder with an air of transcendent sagacity he’d been imagining.

“Got cursed out in the Central Plains tongue by some steppe woman,” Zhang Yuxu muttered with a sigh. “Doesn’t sit right.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ruan Chen said. “Once we’re at the depot, I’ll introduce you to Young Master Tang — he’s fluent in every language of the northern peoples. We’ll grab those two later, tie them to a post, and have Young Master Tang teach you one phrase at a time so you can shout it right in their faces.”

Zhang Yuxu blinked. Without thinking, he asked, “How does your horse-and-carriage company have people like that?”

Ruan Chen smiled. “Speaking of which — what are you two best at? I’ll need something to say when I introduce you to our chief.”

Peng Shiqi looked a little embarrassed. “I’m not especially good at anything in particular, but I do eat a lot — a remarkable amount, really. If I joined your company, I’d probably be the one who eats the most.”

Ruan Chen sighed. “You really shouldn’t be so confident about that…”

Zhang Yuxu said, “Surely your horse-and-carriage company doesn’t actually have someone who eats a lot?”

“As it happens,” Ruan Chen said, “that would be our chief himself.”

He smiled. “I got a good look at how much you two put away on the road. Both of you together couldn’t hold a candle to our chief on his own.”

Peng Shiqi stared. “Just what kind of place is this horse-and-carriage company of yours…”

“You’ll see when you get there,” Ruan Chen said.

Half an hour later, Ruan Chen dropped off the medicinal herbs he’d purchased at the warehouse. Zhen Gen, the junior disciple of the Hanging Blade Sect, spotted him and came sprinting over with a grin, calling out as he ran: “Elder Brother Yitian!”

Ruan Chen: “…”

Zhen Gen trotted up to him and said with a sly chuckle: “Would you believe it — Elder Brother Yiye just left not long ago. Shen Medical Hall put in an order for a batch of medicinal herbs, and he came to collect it.”

“Young man,” Ruan Chen said, “this depot has no shortage of talented people. You could learn from any of them — why did you have to go and learn from Yu Jiuling? Surely you know how badly that one deserves a thrashing?”

“That’s exactly who taught me!” Zhen Gen said. “He told me you’re called Elder Brother Yitian, that Elder Brother Ruan Mu is Elder Brother Yiye, and that together you two are the ‘Soft Twelve Hours.'”

Ruan Chen: “…”

Zhen Gen caught sight of the two plump little Daoist monks and asked with curiosity: “And who are these two?”

Ruan Chen made a quick introduction. Zhen Gen gave them both a thorough once-over, then said with a pitying look: “Who would have thought — from such far-flung corners of the world, two entirely different branches of the Daoist tradition, and yet fate has brought together two figures so remarkably alike: both driven to wander the jianghu by the simple fact of never having enough to eat…”

Ruan Chen yanked him aside. “Go play somewhere else.”

He turned to the two chubby ones with an apologetic smile. “He’s not very good with words.”

Zhen Gen walked off muttering: “Want to hit me? Go hit Yu Jiuling — it was all him.”

He continued grumbling to himself as he went: “That rotten Yu Jiuling, stealing my pastries — fine, steal them, but after eating them he went and put a lump of cow dung inside the paper wrapper.”

And the worst part was that before eating them, Zhen Gen had lifted the paper wrapper to his nose and taken a long, deep sniff, wanting to savor the fragrance of the pastries beforehand…

The result had been overwhelming.

Ruan Chen gave a somewhat pained smile. “This is not typical of our depot. As you know, with so many people around, there’s bound to be the occasional unusual one.”

Just then, Jia Ruan — the senior disciple of the Hanging Blade Sect — came back in from outside. He spotted Ruan Chen and called out cheerfully: “Hey, Worthy Brother Yitian!”

Ruan Chen sighed. “Let’s go.”

—

The horse-and-carriage depot.

Li Chi had finished sealing up the underground chamber with his people. Luo Jing had already come by, and Li Chi had raised the matter of the hidden troops with him. Luo Jing was naturally delighted.

So Li Chi very naturally went on to explain that the construction costs of the underground chamber had left funds running short, and that progress might be delayed somewhat.

Luo Jing thought to himself that money was nothing to worry about — and very generously had several chests of silver fetched and sent over for Li Chi, telling him not to hold back, and that there was more if needed.

Li Chi accepted the chests of silver with an expression of profound guilt, saying that if they turned out to be insufficient, he would come back for more.

The matter of diverting the water source had also been worked out, and work was progressing quickly. Barring any unforeseen complications, it would be finished in another two or three days.

Shortly after he emerged from the underground chamber, he saw Ruan Chen return with two unfamiliar little Daoist monks.

Zhang Yuxu followed Ruan Chen a little way off to wait at a distance. It wasn’t very close, but out of habit he found himself studying Li Chi’s face — and gave a small start.

The physiognomy of Longhu Mountain had always been a refined and subtle art. His master, the presiding Zhenren, was most accomplished of all in this discipline, and Zhang Yuxu had loved studying it since childhood. He could be counted a true heir to the presiding Zhenren’s teaching in this regard.

The more he looked at Li Chi’s face, the more puzzled he became. He quietly tugged at Peng Shiqi’s sleeve, and while Ruan Chen and Li Chi were speaking, he leaned close to Peng Shiqi’s ear and said in a hushed voice: “Look at this chief’s face.”

Peng Shiqi looked — and also gave a start.

Seeing his reaction, Zhang Yuxu lowered his voice again: “You see it too?”

Peng Shiqi gave a small sound of assent, his voice equally low: “I see it. My master taught me this — did you notice his nose? The shape is basically the same as mine. My master always said: the more upright the nose, the larger… that thing. And looking at this man, I’d say it’s probably no smaller than mine.”

Zhang Yuxu buried his face in his hands. “What in the world have you all been studying… Is that what your sect’s secret teachings actually consist of?”

Peng Shiqi: “Is that not what you noticed?”

Zhang Yuxu: “Get away from me…”

Peng Shiqi asked: “Then tell me — what did you actually see that was so remarkable?”

Zhang Yuxu: “I’m done with you. Get back. Let’s just say we don’t know each other. We can continue not knowing each other going forward.”

Peng Shiqi sighed. “I truly never imagined — that a comment about *that thing* could deal you such a devastating blow.”

“Get away from me!”

Zhang Yuxu had finally lost his composure.

From a distance, Ruan Chen finished briefing Li Chi on the medicinal herb purchases and was about to introduce the two newcomers, when he noticed that the pair had separated from each other in mutual disgust.

As they drew closer, Zhang Yuxu couldn’t help but look at Li Chi’s face again with great care, calling to mind everything his master had taught him and comparing it piece by piece. To his own surprise, his heart began to quicken.

“Two senior brothers.”

Li Chi greeted them with a cupped-fist salute, very courteously. His master Changmei was also a Daoist, so by rights Li Chi ought to observe Daoist ceremony when meeting them.

Zhang Yuxu immediately bowed low. “Greetings to the chief.”

Peng Shiqi saw that Zhang Yuxu’s bow was rather deep, and thought to himself: so you’re a flatterer after all. Well, I can’t be outdone.

So he also bowed — even lower than Zhang Yuxu, his head nearly grazing the ground.

Li Chi had a feeling the two of them were younger relatives bowing at New Year’s hoping for red envelopes.

“There’s no need for such ceremony, senior brothers.”

Li Chi quickly helped both men straighten up, and noticed as he did that this one called Zhang Yuxu had faint beads of sweat at his brow. He paused. The weather had already turned somewhat cold — this could only be sweat from nerves. Why would a true disciple of Longhu Mountain’s Daoist tradition be so anxious?

“Senior brother, are you feeling unwell?”

Li Chi asked with some concern.

Peng Shiqi helpfully supplied: “Mm, yes, he’s not feeling terribly well — it’s been rather soon since he was weaned before setting out to wander the jianghu.”

Zhang Yuxu shot Peng Shiqi a withering glare. Peng Shiqi thought: serves you right for cursing at me earlier.

—

Meanwhile, outside the medicinal herbs warehouse.

Chedi — one of the Six Divine Sabers — peeked out from behind the corner of a wall, then climbed back into a crate and said to Que Nan: “A medicinal warehouse that size — the Shen Medical Hall must have a considerable store of silver.”

Que Nan nodded. “Good. Tonight we scout the routes, and tomorrow morning we leave the city and tell our eldest senior brother.”

“Why bother telling him?” Chedi said with a grin. “You saw it yourself — not one of these Central Plains fighters can actually hold their own in a fight. Ever since we entered the pass, we’ve challenged one after another and not a single one has been a match for us. What kind of guards would a medical hall even have? We don’t need to wait for the others. We move tonight, take the silver, and go. No point wasting time.”

Que Nan was equally self-assured. She considered it and nodded. “Still, we shouldn’t act rashly. Observe first, and only move if it looks clean.”

“You just keep watch,” Chedi said. “I can handle the whole thing going in alone.”

Que Nan frowned. Of the six in their sect, the one she liked least was this second senior brother. His skills were the weakest of them all, yet he was the most arrogant — and lecherous besides.

Chedi had made advances toward her more than once. If their eldest senior brother hadn’t kept him in check, second senior brother would long since have made himself completely disgraceful.

And that was the other thing — since arriving in the Central Plains, Chedi’s interest in her had visibly evaporated the moment he laid eyes on the women here. That particular realization felt worse than anything else.

It was as if he were saying: back on the steppe I had designs on you because there weren’t many options, but now that I’m in the Central Plains, I can see clearly — you barely even count as a woman.

“Let’s go find the medical hall first.”

Chedi hadn’t noticed what was going through his junior sister’s mind. He turned and left.

Que Nan’s face had gone slightly pale with barely suppressed anger. She let out a sharp breath and followed after him.

The two of them asked their way to Shen Medical Hall, found a tavern across the street, and ordered some food and wine. They sat eating and watching.

“Look at all the people coming and going,” Chedi said with a smile. “One day’s earnings from this place would cover everything we need for the journey south. You keep an eye on the front gate — I’ll go around back and see what the situation looks like.”

Que Nan gave a short sound of assent and said nothing more. She had no desire to talk to him. Second senior brother had the weakest abilities of their six, the worst martial arts, and yet was the most unbearably conceited.

If his skills were just a little higher, he’d probably have tried to force himself on her by now.

“Just go look — and don’t do anything on your own initiative,” Que Nan finally said, unable to stop herself. “If you ruin everything, eldest senior brother won’t forgive you.”

Chedi waved a dismissive hand. “Eldest senior brother can go to hell.”

Then he stood and left.

He circled around to the back of Shen Medical Hall and found that the back courtyard wall was not particularly tall. He listened carefully. No voices from inside the yard.

He thought to himself: what kind of place needs all six of us?

As he was prowling around outside the back courtyard, a middle-aged man in a long robe stepped out through the rear gate.

The two came face to face.

In that instant, Chedi thought: why not just grab this one and ask him what’s what inside?

And in that same instant, the middle-aged man’s eyes held a look of puzzlement — puzzlement that this ugly fellow seemed to be thinking about hitting him.

—