Li Chi endured in his cell until daylight, looking for all the world as though the night had passed with nothing much to do.

At times he sat and rested for a while; at other times he paced back and forth across the room. He simply never closed his eyes.

After Cao Lie had left, no one came to disturb him—yet Li Chi didn’t shut his eyes for a single moment.

The jail guards on watch had slept half the night, confident that Li Chi wouldn’t dare run.

The morning sun was soft and beautiful—like the sidelong smile of a young woman.

Cao Lie was asleep, right there in the main hall of the Anyang Prefecture offices, which meant no one dared come and disturb him.

Out in the courtyard of the Anyang Prefecture, Ding Shenjia had arrived early. He’d had a restless night himself, not knowing what the young lord might have done to that Li Duidui.

What he learned upon inquiring, however, was that the young lord had actually sat down with Li Chi, drank wine, and had a chat.

This puzzled Ding Shenjia. When he asked further about Li Duidui, the jail guards said the man had been awake all night, pacing around—visibly on edge.

Ding Shenjia nodded to himself. *Li Duidui, no matter how exceptional he may be, is still capable of fear.*

Staying up all night too anxious to sleep—proof enough.

He sent someone out to buy morning provisions and specifically asked for steamed buns—meat-filled.

When his man returned, he carried the breakfast into the cell, only to find Li Chi absent.

This gave Ding Shenjia quite a fright. Looking at the shattered rear window, he assumed Li Chi had escaped.

He thought it remarkably unwise. At this stage, what was the point of running? And where on earth could he run to?

Just as he was thinking this, he saw Li Chi climbing back in through the rear window. When Li Chi spotted him, he couldn’t help but laugh a little.

“Pardon my indiscretion,” he said.

“What were you doing?” Ding Shenjia asked.

“I go to the privy every morning,” Li Chi said. “I can hardly attend to it in the cell.”

Ding Shenjia thought: *you are remarkably fastidious.* Ripped out the door chain to go outside and teach someone how to drum, came back. Kicked out the rear window to go and use the privy, came back.

Li Chi noticed the breakfast in Ding Shenjia’s hands. “Oh? Are those buns? Thank you very much.”

He reached out to take them. Ding Shenjia stopped him. “You just came from the privy. Did you wash your hands?”

“Did you not notice my hair is still a little damp?”

Ding Shenjia had a feeling something was off.

“I didn’t go out at first light,” Li Chi said. “I went out before dawn—I didn’t know the layout, so it took a while to find the privy.”

“Having spent all night without sleep, feeling grimy and uncomfortable all over, I came across a room with the door unlocked and looked inside—turned out to be the kitchen. So I boiled some water and gave myself a bath.”

At that moment, Ding Shenjia heard shouting from somewhere in the rear courtyard.

He cocked an ear and listened. Someone was calling out that there had been a break-in overnight.

The cook had arrived at the kitchen that morning to find the door open. To his considerable alarm, the water in the large iron pot used for stewing dishes for the entire prefecture staff was still steaming.

Li Chi had given himself a bath in that iron cooking pot.

Hearing the cook’s shouts, Li Chi smiled with mild embarrassment. “Tell him not to worry. I washed the pot thoroughly before I got in.”

Li Chi reached over and gently lifted the bun package from the stunned Ding Shenjia, sat down, and began to eat.

Ding Shenjia hadn’t quite recovered when Li Chi had already finished two or three buns.

Ding Shenjia let out a slow breath. “If you’d had the time, would you have gone home to change clothes too?”

“I did.”

Li Chi continued eating as he spoke. “There’s a silk and satin shop not far from the prefecture gate. I went out for a wander last night, tried on a few ready-made pieces, found something in the right fit—same color as what I was wearing yesterday. Don’t worry—I left enough money. More than enough to cover the cost.”

Ding Shenjia raised a hand and pressed it to his temple.

“How did you come and go without being detected?” he asked.

“It’s not that difficult,” Li Chi said. “Though it’s not as though absolutely no one noticed me.”

Ding Shenjia shook his head slowly, then noticed the buns were almost gone.

—

It was nearly noon when Cao Lie finally woke, rubbed his eyes, and sat up. He immediately saw Xu Wenjun standing in the doorway like a sentinel.

He disliked Xu Wenjun’s personality—cold and stiff as a stone figure, never a trace of feeling in his face.

But he liked Xu Wenjun’s way of conducting himself. Xu Wenjun never lost track of who he was or what he was there to do.

“Anything happen last night?”

Xu Wenjun turned to look at Cao Lie—and Cao Lie went still. He blinked, then pressed his hands to his eyes and rubbed again.

He was certain he hadn’t seen wrong, wasn’t having a vision. He asked Xu Wenjun: “What happened to your eye?”

Xu Wenjun turned his head back. “Nothing,” he said, voice slightly strained.

*Nothing?* Cao Lie thought. *Impossible.* Xu Wenjun’s eye socket had a distinctly bluish cast—that was obviously the mark of someone’s fist.

With Xu Wenjun’s ability, who could easily land a punch on his eye?

“Were there assassins last night?”

“No.”

“Then your face—?”

Xu Wenjun fell silent.

Cao Lie got up and circled around to look at him directly. There was no question: someone had landed a solid punch on Xu Wenjun’s face.

“You actually got hit?” Cao Lie said, astonished.

Xu Wenjun lifted his head, maintaining an air of dignity.

“He didn’t get off easy either,” he said.

Cao Lie’s mind caught up: “Li Duidui?”

Xu Wenjun made a sound of confirmation. After a brief pause, he added: “He’s just injured somewhere that doesn’t show.”

Cao Lie stared. “But why? How did the two of you end up fighting?”

He then noticed that Xu Wenjun’s clothes had torn edges in a few places, and patches of dirt and mud besides.

Rain had fallen heavily a couple of days ago, and some areas of the streets still had standing water.

Since Xu Wenjun wouldn’t say, Cao Lie strode over to the jail, asked around, and was told that Ding Shenjia had come early and taken Li Duidui away—since the young lord was still sleeping, Ding Shenjia hadn’t presumed to disturb him.

Cao Lie returned and shot Xu Wenjun a look, then called for his carriage. Before long they arrived at General Meng Kedi’s manor.

When Cao Lie arrived, Meng Kedi was in the courtyard chatting with Li Duidui—whatever they were talking about, Meng Kedi was roaring with laughter. Even Ding Shenjia, standing not far away, was laughing. Xue Chunbao alone maintained his usual look of contempt.

Seeing Cao Lie arrive, Meng Kedi came forward with a smile. But Cao Lie’s gaze had remained fixed on Li Chi throughout, and after studying him for a moment, his brow creased.

“Did you lose badly?” he asked Xu Wenjun.

“Not noticeably.”

“Then why does his clothes look clean and spotless, not a speck of mud?”

Xu Wenjun was silent for a moment. He raised his head, looked at the sky, and said: “Because he has no dignity.”

Li Chi heard this and pursed his lips. “I bought new ones.”

Cao Lie asked what had happened. Since Xu Wenjun was unwilling to explain, Li Chi recounted the whole thing.

Late the previous night, after Cao Lie had gone back and fallen asleep, Xu Wenjun had appeared at the jail cell.

He stood in the doorway and stared at Li Chi without a word.

Li Chi recognized this man as Cao Lie’s personal bodyguard. The man said nothing, but Li Chi read his intentions in his eyes.

“If you want to fight,” Li Chi said, pointing outside, “take it to the street. Better not to disturb anyone in here.”

Xu Wenjun said nothing—just turned and walked out.

The two of them matched skills on the street for a long time. Xu Wenjun took a punch to the face; Li Chi took a blow to the shoulder.

One had a swollen face, the other a swollen shoulder—the latter wasn’t immediately visible, so it appeared Xu Wenjun had come off worse.

Li Chi’s clothes were filthy with grime, which was what had driven him to the silk shop for a full change of clothing, inside and out.

After hearing it all, Cao Lie looked at Xu Wenjun. He said, after a pause: “Go and bathe, change your clothes, and rest properly. I won’t be leaving the general’s manor today, so nothing should come up.”

Xu Wenjun made an acknowledging sound—not one extra word—turned and left.

Cao Lie looked at Li Chi as if looking at some kind of creature. Over the course of a single night, this Li Duidui had been quite busy: gambling with the drummer, drinking wine with him, brawling with Xu Wenjun, stealing clothes from a silk shop, and then boiling himself in an iron pot.

Feeling Cao Lie’s eyes on him, Li Chi smiled and said: “The young lord’s bodyguard has formidable skill—but he is not well suited to unarmed fighting. If he had used weapons, I would already have been at a disadvantage long ago.”

Some distance away, Xu Wenjun turned back. He looked at Li Chi and said: “The calluses on your right hand are thick. With weapons, you might not lose either.”

Li Chi watched that figure go, and quietly filed the name away in his heart.

Not the most magnanimous, perhaps—but a man who called things as they were.

“I imagine today is when you’ll discuss the herbal medicine business with him,” Cao Lie suddenly said to Meng Kedi with a sigh.

Meng Kedi nodded. “Indeed. Li Chi’s Shen Medical Halls extend throughout Jizhou. If this business arrangement goes well, it will be to everyone’s benefit.”

“And if I object?” Cao Lie asked.

Meng Kedi started.

Cao Lie looked at Li Chi and said directly: “I don’t believe someone like you would betray Jizhou.”

Meng Kedi’s expression shifted sharply. He hadn’t brought this matter up with Li Chi yet—the young lord’s directness was excessive.

Cao Lie spoke with deliberate precision: “You put yourself at odds with Xingsheng Trading on behalf of your colleagues in the Jizhou medicine trade. The first time, you didn’t know Xingsheng was the Cao family’s—forgivable enough. But the second time, in Shengfang County, you knew perfectly well it was the Cao family’s, and you still intervened on behalf of two people who were nothing to you.”

He walked up to Li Chi and, eye to eye, said with measured weight: “Whatever the circumstances, I refuse to believe that someone like you would betray Jizhou.”

Li Chi met his gaze and, with equal deliberation, asked: “Would General Meng dare kill the young lord?”

“Of course not,” Cao Lie said.

“He dares kill me,” Li Chi said.

He paused, then added four more words:

“My entire family.”

Cao Lie went silent.

Meng Kedi’s expression grew darker still. There was another implication in Li Chi’s words: he had long since anticipated what Meng Kedi intended to say.

Cao Lie continued to look at Li Chi’s eyes. After a silence, he asked: “If you betray Jizhou—would you still be you?”

“The young lord’s question is a little absurd,” Li Chi said.

He turned to Meng Kedi. “General—if you march, can you guarantee the safety of each of my Shen Medical Halls?”

Meng Kedi had no ready answer. Every carefully prepared argument he had arranged in his mind had been demolished by Cao Lie.

Ding Shenjia gave an awkward smile. “This is a complicated matter—why don’t we all sit down and talk it through properly.”

“Promise him!” Cao Lie suddenly called out.

Meng Kedi’s expression reached its darkest extreme.

Without waiting for Meng Kedi’s answer, Cao Lie turned back to Li Chi and said coldly: “Do you see? He cannot possibly promise you that.”

“Because you have no leverage here at all,” Cao Lie said. “They’ve got you detained—do they even need to negotiate? If the Shen Medical Hall staff don’t cooperate, they’ll simply kill you.”

Li Chi laughed.

Seeing Li Chi laugh, Cao Lie was even more baffled.

“So let them detain me here,” Li Chi said with a smile, “and let the Shen Medical Hall staff cooperate with General Meng—and that will be enough to keep the Shen Medical Halls safe?”

Meng Kedi nodded. “It will.”

“Then keep me here,” Li Chi said.

Cao Lie found himself in a sudden blaze of fury. He pointed at Li Chi’s face. “You’d actually accept those terms?!”

Li Chi asked in return: “Otherwise—does the young lord know why I came to Anyang? I *could have chosen not to come.*”

Those words hit Cao Lie like a blow to the chest.

In that moment, he understood what it meant to take someone else’s side.

—