Luo Jing felt that in front of two such scoundrels, he was clearly a pure, guileless, thoroughly good-natured person — the very best kind there was.

In his view, men like Li Chi and Tang Pidi not getting struck by lightning every time they stepped outside was a profound injustice perpetrated by the Heavens.

“Go ahead and keep playing off each other,” Luo Jing said, snorting. “You both know what I’m like. What I’m willing to put on the table I’ve already said myself. What I’m not willing to put on the table — no amount of theatrics from either of you will change that.”

Tang Pidi looked at Li Chi. “You were right.”

“Which part?” Li Chi asked.

“The part about eating first,” Tang Pidi said.

Li Chi stood up. “Then let’s go eat. This is going to be a long negotiation. Let’s have lunch, then talk through the afternoon. If we can’t sort it out, we eat dinner, and carry on tomorrow. We’re both coming to the table in good faith — surely it won’t drag on for three or five months.”

“I’m not a man who responds well to pressure,” Luo Jing said. “No one should speak to me that way.”

“In what regard?” Li Chi asked.

“Every regard,” Luo Jing said.

“In everything I just said,” Li Chi replied with a grin, “there are exactly two things that could be read as pressure — one being food, the other being time.”

“No agreement, no food,” Luo Jing said. “No time either.”

“Something’s off with him,” Tang Pidi said.

Li Chi gave a sound of agreement. “Earnest overtures just now, now playing cold — hot and cold, back and forth. Must be coming down with something.”

Luo Jing dropped into his chair and stewed in silence. After a good long while, he burst out laughing: “Must have owed you two in a past life. Come on, come on — food!”

“In a past life he was definitely a faithless lover,” Li Chi told Tang Pidi, “and you were his scorned spouse — which is why he can’t manage you this time around.”

“In that past life,” Tang Pidi said, “if you hadn’t swooped in as the scheming third party between us, you wouldn’t even be able to say that.”

“How do you figure?” Li Chi asked.

“Obviously he treats you better,” Tang Pidi said. “Faithless men always have a softer spot for those scheming third parties.”

Li Chi turned to Luo Jing. “Well. A man of promiscuous affections!”

“Would you two just drop the act?” Luo Jing said. “How are you getting more into it as you go?”

The three of them left the study and settled into the reception hall. Luo Jing called for the dishes to be brought. Before long, an array of fine food was set out one course after another — Luo Jing had clearly given instructions for a meal to be prepared well in advance.

“See,” Li Chi said, “we misjudged him.”

“No matter,” Tang Pidi said. “You’re the scheming third party — stirring up trouble is in your nature.”

“How sharp-tongued,” Li Chi said, “for a devoted spouse.”

Tang Pidi: “…”

The three sat down. Luo Jing poured wine for the other two, then took his own seat, and the tone of his voice eased somewhat from what it had been.

“Eat and drink, but we still have things to say. Once the food is done the talk is done — you said yourself, there’s no reason this should drag on for months.”

Li Chi took a sip of wine, then said, “What I said was genuinely thought through and calculated. For the next few years, there will indeed be no great enemy strong enough to attack Jizhou. But with the forces I have right now, Yanshan suits me better than Jizhou. In Yanshan, I can farm and raise livestock, breed horses, and if an enemy comes, I retreat into the mountains.”

“But if I move to Jizhou, my few thousand soldiers can’t protect the good farmland outside the walls — flat open ground in every direction, nothing but open plain. In Yanshan, a few thousand men can hold the mountain passes. Could a few thousand men hold Jizhou?”

“I’m not trying to be contrary,” Li Chi said seriously. “I have to think of those eight thousand soldiers. A great city like this — eight thousand men can’t possibly hold it. Distribute them along the eastern, western, southern, and northern walls — you’d have no reserves at all.”

“A year and a half.”

Luo Jing looked at Li Chi. “You only need to hold it for a year and a half.”

Li Chi’s eyes narrowed slightly. He looked at Luo Jing, but did not ask why. A seasoned operator like himself — did he really need to ask what Luo Jing meant?

From the very beginning, beneath all the banter and the bickering, there had been a continuous exchange of probes and feelers.

Holding Jizhou was not impossible for Li Chi. It was precisely a question of time — if it fell within a range he could accept, it would be nothing but good news for the Ning Army.

By Li Chi’s calculations, Yang Xuanji of Shuzhou was no match for Prince Wu. But Yang Xuanji’s forces were numerous and his momentum formidable. Prince Wu could only defeat him — it would be exceedingly difficult to destroy him outright.

The moment things went badly, Yang Xuanji would immediately withdraw to Shuzhou, into those vast ten-thousand-li mountains, where even Prince Wu’s crack troops would have little room to maneuver.

Yang Xuanji was no common bandit either. He was a capable field commander, backed by powerful landed families with ample gold, grain, and supplies. A defeat for him was no great catastrophe.

After defeat he retreated, rested and regrouped for a year or two, and his strength was restored. He would still be a regional power.

That process would take no more than two years. So when Luo Jing said *a year and a half*, Li Chi immediately understood — Luo Jing knew exactly what Li Chi was thinking.

And so Li Chi gave a single nod: “Agreed.”

Luo Jing froze.

Just moments ago, no matter what Luo Jing had said, however persuasively he had argued, Li Chi had simply refused to commit. Not one nod.

And now, all he had said was a timeframe — a year and a half — and Li Chi had agreed without a moment’s hesitation. This was genuinely unexpected.

He had expected Li Chi to push for more. The Jizhou Army prisoners alone numbered at least twenty thousand.

These troops were demoralized and their discipline had collapsed, but they were proper Dachu garrison soldiers — their fundamentals were sound. Given half a year of training, they would be back to their original fighting strength.

So Luo Jing could barely believe it, and asked, “You agreed?”

Li Chi nodded. “Agreed.”

He smiled slightly. “After you lead your forces out, I’ll be recruiting and building up forces in Jizhou — but the city walls will still fly your Youzhou Army banner.”

Tang Pidi said, “A year and a half may feel like the blink of an eye for others — nothing to show for it. But for me, it means something else entirely. General Luo should know what that means.”

Luo Jing thought for a moment, then answered, “With your abilities, a year and a half — with Jizhou’s resources, no one interfering or disrupting you — you could train up at least fifty thousand battle-hardened troops in complete comfort.”

“Which is precisely why,” Tang Pidi said, “Li Chi told you at the outset: when you march on Yanzhou, do not suffer defeat. Because if something goes wrong, if the Youzhou Army weakens while our Ning Army grows strong — then the roles of host and guest will reverse.”

“So we say it plainly, and openly,” Li Chi said. “If you take Yanzhou and come home in triumph, Old Tang and I give Jizhou back to you, and take our new soldiers and return to Yanshan. Our agreement stands.”

Luo Jing remained silent for a very long time.

Among all three of them, the kind of conversation they were having would sound like complete fantasy if replicated elsewhere.

Who lays everything out this openly?

And yet these three men could state it all so naturally — like players in a chess match announcing their next moves in advance.

“You two are asking me whether the wager is worth it.”

Luo Jing exhaled slowly.

It was, in truth, a genuine question.

Not taking the bet: he develops steadily in Jizhou, eventually musters two hundred thousand troops, and has the option of marching south. But by the time he has two hundred thousand troops ready for a southern campaign, perhaps the south will have no stage left for him.

Taking the bet: he must take Yanzhou within a year, conscript in Yanzhou, return to Jizhou with a large army, then combine both states’ strength to push south in the next move.

Either way, staying in Jizhou and developing steadily was the safer option by all appearances. Driving into Yanzhou was playing with fire.

But that was only looking at the surface of things. As Li Chi well understood: Prince Wu returning to Yuzhou meant everyone would be moving on their plans within a year and a half. Everyone would use this window.

Strike at Yuzhou? Yuzhou had Prince Wu’s garrison force — the undefeated Left Militant Guard, the finest troops in the empire.

Strike at Qingzhou? The road was long and the terrain demanding — getting there was already uncertain, and Suzhou bordered Qingzhou far more closely, meaning that front would never accommodate outside interference.

Luo Jing wanted both Jizhou and Yanzhou. Only with both as his foundation would he truly have the capital to contend for the realm.

Most critically: once Yanzhou was taken, he could sail south along the coast, bypassing Yuzhou entirely — avoiding direct confrontation with Prince Wu’s crack forces, at least for now.

A year and a half — perhaps two. Whether the great enterprise could be achieved would depend on whether Luo Jing was willing to stake everything on this throw.

After long silence, Luo Jing looked at Li Chi and said, “I won’t leave you a single soldier. Jizhou is yours to hold — you find your own troops.”

Li Chi nodded. “Agreed.”

“Most of the grain in Jizhou, you’ve taken,” Luo Jing went on. “Of what’s left, I’ll take most of that too. What remains will barely last you until this time next year when the summer harvest comes in.”

“Agreed,” Li Chi said.

“Within a year and a half,” Luo Jing continued, “if I take Yanzhou and return with my army, you pull back to Yanshan — and I won’t march south. If I do march south, Jizhou and Youzhou are both yours, for all I care.”

Li Chi nodded a third time. “Agreed.”

“If I grow powerful enough later,” Luo Jing said, “there will inevitably be a reckoning between us — that is something we both know.”

“That is a matter for later,” Li Chi said. “If you decide someday to come and serve me wholeheartedly, and address me as your master — I’ll take you in.”

Luo Jing turned down his mouth. “If you come crawling to me one day, weeping in defeat, I’ll find you a meal in my army as well.”

He extended his hand. “Deal?”

Li Chi reached out and struck his palm: “Deal.”

Tang Pidi smiled.

A year and a half — for a Ning Army that had fewer than ten thousand men, this was the finest window for growth they could have hoped for. In the current circumstances, there was simply no better choice available.

Give Tang Pidi a year and a half, and he could train at least fifty thousand battle-ready soldiers. If he pushed himself — Heaven alone knew what he might accomplish.

Even when the Ning Army returned to Yanshan when the time came, they would hold a position from which they could advance or withdraw at will. After only a year and a half, their strength would expand by at least five times.

If they passed up this year and a half and stayed on in Yanshan developing at their own pace — how could they possibly achieve a fivefold increase?

So this outcome was, by all accounts, something both Li Chi and Luo Jing could be well satisfied with.

Luo Jing smiled. “Then let’s see, in the years ahead — which of us moves faster.”

“Speed,” Li Chi said, “is not always a good thing.”

Luo Jing waved this off. “The great currents of this age are not what they were a few years ago. Whoever acts first controls the situation — those who hold back will be controlled. Anyone still thinking about waiting for an advantage will find themselves outmaneuvered.”

Li Chi smiled but said nothing.

“Food.”

Luo Jing raised his cup. “After we drink this cup today, I must return to Youzhou and prepare for war. Come next spring I will lead my forces into Yanzhou. The climate there is harsh — the campaigning season runs only from spring to autumn. So perhaps I’ll be back before that year and a half is even up.”

Li Chi raised his cup: “Then here’s to your triumph.”

Tang Pidi, still smiling, said nothing — but quietly, he was already thinking about raising troops.

Nowhere else in the entire Central Plains could you find three men who could sit down together and simply settle things like this.

In the moment Li Chi and Luo Jing’s cups met, Tang Pidi’s mind was already on the question of recruitment.

—