Along both banks of the Nanping River, the scenery was such that no poet in the world could capture it whole, nor any painter render it entire.

That the heartland of the realm should be traversed east to west by such a great river — perhaps this was nature’s particular gift to the south.

The northern powers had marched into the heartland countless times throughout history. Not once had they crossed the Nanping.

Whatever suffering the people of Jizhou had endured came to an abrupt end at the Nanping’s shore.

Since Li Chi first grew curious about history’s record, he had been tracing the full measure of ruin that this land called Jizhou had sustained.

The more he uncovered, the colder something grew inside him.

From the earliest surviving records to the present day, Jizhou had witnessed three separate occasions when its entire population was wiped out.

On all three occasions, there was not a living soul north of the Nanping.

After each extinction, people were relocated from elsewhere to repopulate the land — so if you thought about it, there were no true natives of Jizhou any longer. They had all been gone for ages.

Li Chi stood at the prow, watching the scenery on both banks of the Nanping River. Looking across the water, the contrast was stark.

The crumbling villages dimly visible on the northern bank — to describe them charitably, one might reach for something like:

*A desolate courtyard, slanting wind and thin rain, the many gates shut and bolted.*

While what one saw on the river’s southern bank carried a faint, quiet sense of consolation — a future still worth hoping for.

Something more like:

*The trees put forth new leaves in glad profusion, the springs trickle forward and begin to flow.*

“Thank heaven for this one great river.”

Li Chi’s gaze left the southern bank and returned to the north.

The soil of the land north of the river was saturated with old blood. It could not produce small bridges and willow-draped waterways — but it could produce iron horses and clashing spears.

“I wonder how fiercely that young lord must be cursing you.”

Yu Jiuling let out a quiet sigh. He could well imagine just how furious Cao Lie would be.

Li Chi sighed too. In this world, very few things allowed for a perfect outcome that satisfied everyone.

The three large ships paused briefly at the shipyard they had passed on the way out. A little while later, two men came riding hard.

Chen Dawei and Gang Gang, who had crept quietly into the medicine storehouse, lit the fire, then immediately slipped away. The two of them abandoned their horses and boarded the ship. The vessels set off again.

They had not gone far when a column of riders came thundering toward them in a cloud of dust.

Among them, one man spurred his horse up a rise — a single rider standing alone atop the high ground.

Li Chi stood at the ship’s railing and watched. Though he could not make out the man’s expression, he knew the man must be genuinely furious right now.

Atop the rise, Young Lord Cao Lie watched the three ships grow smaller in the distance and slowly exhaled.

Xu Wenjun urged his horse alongside and lowered his voice. “Young Lord — there’s still time to give chase. Their handling of the vessels is rough. We have the numbers and the ships. Within a hundred li we could certainly take them.”

Cao Lie turned his head and regarded Xu Wenjun with narrowed eyes.

Cao Lie said, “You’re usually a man of few words — I’ve said ten things and gotten one response out of you. Today your words are flowing rather freely.”

Xu Wenjun started, then understood.

Cao Lie looked back at the retreating ships and suddenly laughed at himself, quietly.

“This bastard… deceived me — and yet he was telling me the truth the entire time. He said a great many things, and looking back now, every word of it was honest. I just refused to believe him then.”

Cao Lie said, “He said there’s no such thing as risk-free business, and he didn’t want to drag me into his scheme. He also said I’d know within a few months — yet he didn’t take even a few months…”

At this, Cao Lie exhaled once more, long and heavily.

“Damn him.”

This strictly raised young lord let the profanity slip — twice in succession.

Then he waved a hand: “Back to Yuzhou!”

He spurred his horse down the rise and said to Xu Wenjun as they galloped, “I’m in a hurry to get home and wait for my father. Who has time to give chase? Between chasing that bastard and going home, home is obviously more important.”

Xu Wenjun nodded, but thought to himself: *Young Lord, you simply had no intention of chasing him.*

Even Xu Wenjun felt that Li Chi was a curious sort of person — deceiving left and right, yet leaving the young lord untouched.

Back when the young lord had offered to give him those three ships, Li Chi had firmly refused and insisted on paying the full price.

Xu Wenjun also thought back to Li Chi’s fighting ability and was left with a single thought.

If they were to meet again someday — he would not know whether it would be as enemies or allies.

On the ship.

Li Chi watched the column of riders depart. He raised his hand to wave — then let it drop.

*Better not. No point inviting more abuse.*

Shen Ruzhan came to stand beside him. After a moment’s silence she said, “In this world, things that don’t go as one wishes—”

Before she could finish, Li Chi said with a smile, “The things that don’t go as we wish — let them go. The things that do — hold onto them. Hold on tight.”

Shen Ruzhan couldn’t help but laugh. Then she caught herself, realizing — a man like Li Chi, for the most part, needed no one to comfort him.

What he had lived through was more than enough. Those experiences were consolation enough that he could give himself.

They traveled upriver for about fifty li before the three ships turned north — still against the current.

But the season was kind. The wind coming up from the south was not merely tender and languorous. When it chose to, it could be fierce.

It was as if the heavens themselves were keeping time with Li Chi’s plans, and on the one day the wind was needed — the wind arrived.

If one might call the southern wind on the first day’s departure a coincidence, then the southern wind that persisted for several days afterward — well, make of that what you will.

Wind-filled sails, the hull slicing through the waves.

The original plan had called for roughly ten days to reach Guzhou. They arrived in seven.

And after Guzhou, stranger things occurred. The seven straight days of southern wind vanished — as though they had never existed, as though everyone had simply imagined them.

Entering the Hutuo River and transferring to the Dading River, traveling east to west — an eastern wind came.

Sitting at the prow, Yu Jiuling looked to his left at Li Chi, then to his right at Shen Ruzhan.

He could restrain himself no longer. “Just admit it. Which one of you is the demon?”

Chen Dawei and Gang Gang, seated behind him, both nodded. They too felt this could not be explained by any ordinary logic.

If no one was working magic, there was no accounting for wind this cooperative.

When people set out on a long river journey, their loved ones would send them off with the blessing of *smooth sailing and favorable winds*…

This was not ordinary smooth sailing. This was smooth sailing that turned corners.

It was that uncanny — uncanny enough to make you want to find a Daoist and hold up a demon-revealing mirror to Li Chi, or perhaps to Shen Ruzhan.

Li Chi said with a smile, “In this season, the wind comes from the southeast. What’s unusual about that?”

Shen Ruzhan said, “I think they make a fair point — and what you just said sounds more like a cover-up. What exactly are you?”

Li Chi shrugged, privately thinking: this is probably just luck. Nothing more than luck.

Yu Jiuling got to his feet. “I’m going to summon a celestial spirit right now.”

He walked to the stern, planted himself in position, drew a long breath, and thrust two fingers forward: “By swift order of the decree—!”

Chen Dawei followed, curious, and asked, “What are you doing, Ninth Brother?”

Just in time to see: Yu Jiuling, left hand working at his waistband, trousers dropping — right hand with two fingers extended toward the horizon.

*By swift order of the decree — release!*

Chen Dawei stared, genuinely baffled.

With full gravity, he asked, “Do you demon cultivators really have to chant a spell just to relieve yourselves?”

Yu Jiuling looked back at him. “By swift order of the decree — you go too!”

Chen Dawei said, “Ah! What is this mysterious force compelling me forward?!”

He stumbled to the rail in an elaborate pantomime of being dragged, fumbled with his trousers, and followed suit.

Gang Gang watched the two of them from where he stood. The sheer embarrassment of knowing these two people felt like a personal disgrace — a stain on his honor that must never be spoken of.

He stood there watching until Yu Jiuling asked, “You’re not going?”

Gang Gang made a sound of contempt. “Childish.”

Yu Jiuling spat at him. He finished, gave three good shakes, and was about to leave when Gang Gang said, “You didn’t chant the spell. How am I supposed to go?”

Chen Dawei said, “I’ve got an even simpler version. Simpler and just as effective — you can drop three words entirely. *By swift decree — go!*”

Gang Gang: “…”

From Guzhou, they transferred to the Dading River and traveled westward. Some two hundred li further lay Baipo Lake; from there, Jizhou was not far.

The Dading River passed through Baipo Lake, and the water route beyond the lake extended to roughly sixty li south of Jizhou.

But the ships could not continue directly from Baipo Lake — because where the Dading River fed into the lake, the channel was extremely narrow, with several steep drops like broken cliffs.

For a ship to pass, the captain would have had to climb out on two legs and leap up them like stairs — four or five jumps in succession before entering the lake.

And even if one could somehow clear those drops, it would be pointless: the elevated stretch of water was only a few li long, with more drops to descend on the other side.

So Li Chi’s party would disembark at the northern shore of Baipo Lake — where, as Li Chi had arranged, people had already been waiting for three days.

Two hundred li of water, with a favorable wind — faster even than the northward leg of the journey.

Baipo Lake.

The surface of the lake looked smooth as a mirror. But those who lived along its shores knew: beneath that apparent calm, countless unseen currents ran.

The three ships put in at the northern bank. People onshore were already waving.

When Li Chi stepped off the ship, he was surprised — pleasantly surprised — to find Tang Pidi among them.

Tang Pidi saw Li Chi coming toward him and moved forward to meet him. Li Chi’s pace quickened involuntarily, and he walked toward Tang Pidi with a wide, foolish grin.

He opened his mouth, half-formed words on his lips — but Tang Pidi stepped around him and kept walking.

“Damn you!”

Li Chi called after him. “You’re not here to meet me?!”

Tang Pidi said, “Here for the silver.”

Li Chi said, “I’ve been working so hard all this time, and this is the silver I squeezed out of Anyang through my own ingenuity. You can’t even say thank you?”

Tang Pidi said, “The silver is yours. I’m only borrowing it. Why would I thank you?”

Li Chi muttered under his breath, “Now *that’s* a scoundrel’s logic…”

Yu Jiuling burst out laughing. “Clearly the higher scoundrel wins.”

Tang Pidi asked, “What scoundrel?”

Yu Jiuling pointed at Li Chi. “On the way back, heading north took seven days, and we had southern wind all seven days. Transferred to the Dading River — two more days, with eastern wind both days. Now you tell me — is he or isn’t he using demon arts?”

Tang Pidi turned and said to the men behind him, “Load the carts quickly. Get everything back to Jizhou.”

The Ning Army soldiers moved forward at once, lifting chest after chest of silver into the wagons.

Li Chi asked, “They’ve already arrived?”

Tang Pidi said, “A day ahead of you. Anyang’s vanguard has already reached the southern bank of the Dading River — they’re probably waiting for the main force.”

Li Chi made a sound of acknowledgment. “Good timing then. Half a day later and we’d all be in trouble.”

Yu Jiuling asked, “We’d all be in trouble? Why would we be in trouble?”

Li Chi said it as lightly as discussing the weather, yet Yu Jiuling sensed with sharp instinct that they had just narrowly escaped some annihilating catastrophe.

But he asked, and Li Chi did not answer.

Li Chi didn’t answer because he was afraid of frightening him.

Tang Pidi walked and talked at the same time. “If you hadn’t had favorable wind all the way, you’d definitely have been a few days late.”

Li Chi nodded. “Definitely.”

Tang Pidi said, “Then there’s no other explanation. You used demon arts. Nothing else accounts for the coincidence.”

Li Chi shrugged. “Anyang’s forces arrived faster than I’d calculated — which is what made it look like a coincidence.”

Just then, a scout came galloping hard from the distance, visibly urgent.

He reined in close, and upon seeing Li Chi, started — he had not expected Li Chi to be back already.

“Reporting — boss, Anyang’s forces have begun crossing the river.”

“How many have come across?”

“They’ve only just started crossing.”

Li Chi looked at Tang Pidi. Tang Pidi said, “If that’s not demon arts, then what is it?”

He waved a hand. “Pass the order: release the water.”

Li Chi said, “Let’s move fast — we might still catch it.”

The party loaded the carts and quickly took to the main road. The cart drivers spared the horses nothing, lashing the reins without pause.

The carts ran at a gallop. The distance of several tens of li was covered in two-thirds of the usual time.

Upon entering Jizhou city, Li Chi and Tang Pidi wasted no time and went straight up to the city walls.

From the height, they looked out through a spyglass — and saw upriver, a wall of water sweeping down from upstream.

Watching this, Yu Jiuling’s eyes went wide.

He asked, “You dammed the river upstream?”

Li Chi nodded.

Yu Jiuling asked again, “If we had been half a day later coming back — would we have been caught in that flood?”

Li Chi nodded again.

Yu Jiuling swallowed with some difficulty. The color drained slightly from his face.

Then he let out a long, long breath. “Thank heaven the demon is on our side…”

—