Yu Jiuling came running into the yamen shouting, which left Que Nan and the others momentarily wrong-footed, uncertain how to respond.

The unit commander had only just finished telling them Yu Jiuling was suspicious — and here the man had come strolling in himself. So they couldn’t help wondering: if he truly had something to hide, would he dare come back?

Still, the people around her closed in instinctively, hands resting on their weapons, ready to draw.

Que Nan watched Yu Jiuling, thinking: *this is the one who was kneading my legs?*

She forced herself not to fly into a rage on the spot, suppressed her killing intent, and kept her voice level: “What do you want?”

Yu Jiuling bowed deeply, visibly nervous — though fortunately he could disguise it as being winded from running.

“Grand Priest, I went outside the city and came across three suspicious individuals. I questioned them and they said they were coming to pledge loyalty to the Grand Priest. I deliberately brought all three of them back, led them on a winding route through the city for several rounds, then took them for drinks and got all three drunk. I’ve brought them to present to the Grand Priest.”

Que Nan felt something ease inside her at these words.

It lined up with what the unit commander had said — but she didn’t relax entirely. “Where are these three now?”

“After getting them drunk I put sacks over their heads and tied them with rope,” Yu Jiuling answered quickly. “They’re not far from the yamen — they were too heavy, I couldn’t drag them any farther…”

It was the dead of night. Nearly all the grey-robed divine soldiers had retired to camp. The streets were empty — this outfit had no night patrols worth speaking of. What military discipline they had could be charitably described as none at all.

Que Nan waved a hand. “Bring them here.”

Six or seven of her people went out at once.

While they were gone, Que Nan looked Yu Jiuling over once more at her leisure. He wasn’t especially handsome, but looking at him this long, he wasn’t entirely unpleasant either.

“You—” she started, then stopped herself and changed course. “Step aside and wait. If these really are spies you’ve caught, you’ll be richly rewarded.”

*We’ll see who’s caught whom,* Yu Jiuling thought.

The original plan had been a quiet infiltration, but approaching the yamen near midnight they’d spotted the gate unit commander lingering at the entrance.

Li Chi’s memory was extraordinary — nearly photographic — and he’d recognized the man at a single glance.

So Li Chi had guessed they were likely already compromised and changed the plan on the spot. Yu Jiuling had come up with this approach; Li Chi and the others talked it through and agreed it had a chance, so Yu Jiuling had gone in.

Shortly after, three of Que Nan’s subordinates came back, each hauling a sack — bound with rope, reeking heavily of alcohol even through the burlap.

Que Nan pointed: “Open them.”

“Grand Priest, step back a little,” Yu Jiuling said. “When they were drinking, those three boasted of great skill in martial arts. Better to be careful.”

Que Nan gave a cold snort and ignored him entirely.

Since crossing through the passes from the northern steppe, she had been bested only once — by Li Chi’s group. Surely the Central Plains wasn’t so overrun with Li Chi types at every turn.

“Open them!”

At her command, one of the men who had just gone out dragged a sack forward and untied it. The figure inside tumbled out, apparently stripped of an outer robe despite the cold weather, slumped and unresponsive as if unconscious.

Que Nan saw how completely limp the person was and thought: *even a skilled fighter, drunk to this state, is hardly a threat.* She stepped forward, about to deliver a kick.

“Grand Priest, be careful — let someone else do it,” Yu Jiuling said again.

Que Nan’s temper flared. She turned and fixed him with a glare. “Speak one more word and I cut out your tongue.”

Yu Jiuling thought about how dull life would be without his greatest asset, and promptly shut his mouth.

Que Nan walked up to the slumped figure, reached out a foot, and gave it a nudge. The figure rolled over, face upward.

She felt a flicker of recognition. She reached for a torch and held it close to the face.

Then gave a sharp start.

The person lying there was… one of the subordinates she had just sent out.

“Strange, the places we meet.”

A voice spoke behind her at that moment — and Que Nan felt every pore on her body snap open, a bolt of dread transmuting into cold, spreading through her in an instant.

Li Chi’s blade rested at her throat. He spoke with perfect calm: “This time — can you still escape?”

Que Nan trembled as she turned her head slowly. In that moment she realized how deeply afraid she was.

She would not admit it and had tried not to think about it — but from the moment of that slaughter in Jizhou City, Li Chi and his people had become her recurring nightmare.

How many times, closing her eyes, had she seen her senior brother and the others cut down in Jizhou City? How many times had she been unable to sleep without drinking first, because she could not stop seeing her senior sister’s temple caved in by a single strike from Li Chi?

That man was like a demon. Every time she thought of him, he crushed all her confidence and self-regard beneath him, again and again.

“Why — why are you *everywhere?!*”

Que Nan suddenly screamed.

Li Chi’s blade shifted ever so slightly. A line of red appeared at Que Nan’s throat — the sharp pain brought her crashing back to calm.

“Your luck is poor.”

Four words from Li Chi.

Then a few more.

“All the wicked people who cross my path, I expect, have poor luck.”

He was in no hurry to leave. He turned to look at the grey-robed divine soldiers clustered around them — many of them, yes, but not one dared to rush him.

Que Nan almost cried out for them to kill the intruders, several times — but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. In that very instant, the image of Li Chi’s iron claw piercing her senior sister’s skull surfaced once more in her mind.

“Kill me then!”

That was what she finally shouted.

“I will,” Li Chi said.

He extended his left hand and gripped the back of Que Nan’s neck. Like a small animal whose spine had been seized, she lost all resistance instantly.

Li Chi walked her forward. The grey-robed divine soldiers fell back step by step, none daring to act rashly.

“I’m taking her,” Li Chi said. “You can go notify your sect master at your earliest convenience. Tell him the one who has come to collect a debt has arrived.”

So Li Chi marched Que Nan out of the yamen. Grey-robed soldiers converged from all sides, growing more numerous, the road ahead beginning to fill and block.

Li Chi ignored them entirely. He walked on at the same unhurried pace. With Que Nan in his grip, he had the most solid of shields.

All the way out of the county, not one of the divine soldiers truly dared to move — they could only watch as Li Chi and his people mounted up and rode away.

Dantai Qi’s scout unit swept in to receive them, and the group thundered off into the night.

“Make for Eastern Mausoleum Mountain, now!”

Someone screamed into the darkness. In the deep of the night, the cry carried with perfect clarity.

—

Dawn.

Li Chi’s group halted. They had ridden at full gallop for half a night. They were far enough from Linbing County now — those divine soldiers had no warhorses to speak of and couldn’t possibly give chase.

The Eastern Mausoleum Way had grown fast, but its resources could not keep pace. No warhorses. No armor. Barely any proper weapons.

The grey-robed divine soldiers were grey-robed because plain grey cloth was the cheapest fabric available. Most of their weapons were still wooden clubs and the like.

At the roadside, Li Chi glanced at Que Nan, whose face had gone the color of chalk.

This violent, murderous woman — truly frightened to the marrow, it seemed.

It was hard to understand, perhaps, but when a person’s fear of another person had sunk bone-deep, almost any reaction was comprehensible.

Li Chi looked at Yu Jiuling. “You ask her.”

He walked off toward a high ridge and settled himself where the view opened wide — if enemy troops pursued, he’d see them coming in time.

About half an hour later, Yu Jiuling climbed the ridge and crouched beside him.

“Got most of it out of her,” he said. He gave Li Chi a sideways look, seeming somewhat at a loss.

“She’s still a woman, after all…”

Li Chi breathed out slowly, stood. “Understood.”

He descended the ridge, looked at the woman kneeling on the ground, shaking. At this moment Que Nan truly did not look like a murderous she-devil.

She looked like a frightened woman.

“Junior Brother couldn’t bring himself to do it,” Li Chi said.

He mounted up.

Dantai Qi, seated cross-legged nearby, rose, swung his broken lance in a horizontal sweep. Que Nan’s head flew.

Yu Jiuling cried out in shock — he had not expected Dantai Qi to move that fast or that directly.

Que Nan’s headless body pitched forward. Blood pulsed from the neck stump in steady surges, soaking into the cracked earth and turning that patch of ground a deep brown.

“This battle has to be fought.”

Li Chi looked at Dantai Qi. “I’ll stay. See if there’s a chance to kill that so-called sect master. Take out the leader first, and all those numbers are just scattered rabble.”

Dantai Qi said, “Send Yu Jiuling back. We’ll stay with you.”

Yu Jiuling’s face went faintly red. He wasn’t sure why, but he felt somehow diminished. Fortunately Mister Yan sensed the awkward atmosphere and spoke: “I’ll ride back with Yu Jiuling to send word.”

Days later — Yanshan Camp.

Tang Pidi heard Yu Jiuling out, then nodded. “If the Black Wu are involved, this battle must be fought.”

Mister Yan said, “The interrogation of that woman revealed that the Eastern Mausoleum Way’s sect master is indeed Xilizi — but he’s been reduced to a puppet.”

“Fang Yuzhou has a close relationship with a Black Wu man. The founding of the Eastern Mausoleum Way wasn’t entirely Fang Yuzhou’s own idea — that Black Wu man contributed to the scheme as well.”

“When I think about it now,” Tang Pidi said, “it does resemble the Black Wu Sword Sect in many ways.” He turned to Zhuang Wudi. “Brother Zhuang, keep watch over the stronghold with your men. I’ll take troops northwest. The home base is in your hands.”

Zhuang Wudi wanted to go to Li Chi too — but he knew guarding the base was the more critical task. Tang Pidi was trusting him by asking him to stay.

“The home base — I’ll keep it safe. Don’t worry.”

Tang Pidi made a sound of acknowledgment, then turned to Liu Ge. “Bring your forces. I’ll pick another five thousand from the main body.”

“Only eight thousand troops?” Zhuang Wudi asked.

“The Eastern Mausoleum Way has followers numbering in the hundreds of thousands across five counties,” Yu Jiuling reminded them quickly.

“If not for that, why would I need eight thousand?” Tang Pidi said.

He rose. “Prepare provisions and supply wagons. We march tomorrow. Everything must be ready before dark.”

—

At the same time — Eastern Mausoleum Mountain.

Li Chi and the others had halted on a slope and trained the spyglass on the great hall across the way.

The hall was substantial — which suggested that whoever was inside harbored substantial ambitions. Especially the towering sacrificial altar before the hall, which carried a certain undeniable presence.

Perhaps whoever stood atop that altar, looking down upon all below, felt themselves on the verge of ruling all under heaven.

“Master Ye and I will go have a look. The rest of you stay here.”

Li Chi lowered the spyglass and turned to Mister Ye. “What does the Mister think of the Black Wu people? Speak freely.”

Mister Ye answered: “One at a time.”

—