A Fifth-Rank red official robe — the feel of it gave Guo Ruren a peculiar sensation deep in his chest.

There was a folk saying among the common people: Fifth and Fourth Ranks wear crimson, Third Rank and above wear purple.

He, a servant, had in an instant become a Fifth-Rank official. This fresh, new robe felt like a door swinging open into an entirely new world.

Dressed in it, he stood before the bronze mirror and studied himself with great care. Guo Ruren felt as if he were in a dream — as if this had happened in another lifetime.

Was the man in that bronze mirror really him?

He leaned close and looked carefully — those eyes, that nose, that mouth — the longer he looked, the less it seemed to be him.

For a moment he had the strange sense that the man in the mirror was looking back and laughing at him.

He breathed deeply — once, twice, three times.

After a long while, the man in the mirror smiled.

“Back in those days, the Lai family put on a robe like this, and transformed overnight from indentured laborers into officials.”

Guo Ruren turned and looked toward the writing desk.

This was Lai Yihu’s compound — that had been Lai Yihu’s desk.

For a moment Guo Ruren lost himself, as if he could still see Lai Yihu sitting there, sneering coldly at him.

He shook his head hard. When he looked again, there was nothing there.

“Someone come!”

He called out.

An attendant from outside entered immediately, bowing. “What are the Master’s orders?”

The word “Master” floated through Guo Ruren’s mind again and again, more pleasing to the ear than windchime bells.

“Go fetch the Mohe chieftain for me.”

Guo Ruren gave the instruction.

He wanted to test how well his word carried now.

The attendant turned and went immediately, trotting out with a gait that made Guo Ruren feel he was looking at his own former self.

That deferential posture, that retreating back — identical.

Before long, the Mohe chieftain walked in at an unhurried pace — still wearing that wide, shapeless hemp robe, still wearing that cool, half-dead expression.

“I’ve been thinking for a long time.”

Guo Ruren said after sitting down, “If I were to kill Meng Kedi — could I hold Anyang City? Could I make Anyang my own?”

The Mohe chieftain looked at him without replying, but his eyes alone were already the answer.

Those eyes seemed to be saying: you are an idiot.

“You also think it’s impossible.”

Guo Ruren felt a flash of irritation, but in the end only sighed. “It truly is impossible… The small man who turns the tables and becomes master — those moments in stories are all fiction.”

“Even if I killed Meng Kedi, Anyang City wouldn’t fall to me. All I have is you people…”

Guo Ruren seemed to be talking to himself. “Any random Fifth-Rank general in the Anyang army has over a thousand elite household troops. A Fourth-Rank general could crush me like an ant.”

He breathed out slowly.

“In many stories there’s a moment like this — a small man doing business for a great man, then striking from behind and killing the great man, taking over everything, and going on to great fortune…”

“Those stories are invented by common people who have never seen how the world actually works. They simply don’t understand: kill the great man, and the small man is not far from his own death.”

He looked at the Mohe chieftain and said, “So what I’ve been thinking is — if we truly killed Meng Kedi, what would we do then?”

The Mohe chieftain kept looking at him, saying nothing.

Guo Ruren said, “I kill him, the Anyang army kills me, Anyang falls into someone else’s hands, and I’ve done all the work for someone else. Not good, not good at all.”

He rose and began to circle around the Mohe chieftain.

Walking and talking, he said, “But if I don’t kill Meng Kedi, sooner or later he’ll kill me.”

The Mohe chieftain gave him an impatient glance, then turned to walk out.

“Where are you going!”

Guo Ruren called after him.

The Mohe chieftain looked back at him and said, “I’m a man who kills people. You give me money, I kill whoever you want. When you’ve decided what you want to do and who you want killed, put the money in my hand and tell me the name — that’s enough. What you’re going on about has nothing to do with me.”

Guo Ruren said, “Don’t you want to change your fate? You people come from beyond the northern passes — you’ve always lived hard lives. Don’t you want to hold office? You said once that a general outranks an official — don’t you want to be a general?”

The Mohe chieftain answered flatly, “I’m not like you.”

Guo Ruren smiled and asked, “How are we different?”

The Mohe chieftain said, “I don’t dream.”

Guo Ruren was stunned.

After a long moment, he said with some regret, “A moment ago I felt contempt for you in my heart — and then I suddenly woke up and realized you probably feel exactly the same toward me.”

“I think you’re a pitiable man who’s given up, while you think I’m a fool who doesn’t know his own limits.”

He sat down, looking somewhat dejected.

“I called you here because I truly have no friends, no confidants. I have only myself, and you’re an outsider — which means I can actually say a few more words.”

The Mohe chieftain said, “I don’t want to listen to you talk, and I don’t want to be your friend.”

He turned to walk away again.

“I’ve already taken the matter of killing Li Chi from Meng Kedi and claimed it for myself.”

Guo Ruren said, “Don’t you want to hear about that? Fifty thousand taels — he agreed to it.”

The Mohe chieftain paused. “He agreed to that?”

Guo Ruren nodded. “Yes — fifty thousand taels of silver. I haven’t found where Lai Yihu hid his silver yet, but I will.”

The Mohe chieftain said, “Then why would I deal with you?”

Guo Ruren frowned. “Meng Kedi has handed the matter to me, so of course you deal with me. And the fifty thousand taels are already in my hands.”

He didn’t wait for the Mohe chieftain to respond before adding, “Although not all of it is yours.”

Guo Ruren smiled and said, “He doesn’t trust you people. He doesn’t think you alone can kill that great bandit of Jizhou.”

“He’s a very dangerous adversary. Li Chi could walk into Anyang, trick everyone, and then walk right out again — do you think he’ll be easy to kill?”

“So these fifty thousand taels are for everyone combined. Besides your Mohe people, there are sixty others he’s personally selected — you’ll all depart together.”

Guo Ruren said, “Once the deed is done — whoever kills Li Chi, the fifty thousand is theirs. If it can’t be determined whose hand finished Li Chi off, the fifty thousand is divided among you all.”

The Mohe chieftain looked at him — with the eyes of someone looking at a man about to die.

In those eyes, Guo Ruren saw killing intent.

So Guo Ruren immediately rose and called out toward the door, “Bring them all here!”

Before long, sixty men stood in the courtyard outside. These were men Meng Kedi had personally selected — every one of them had respectable martial ability.

But undeniably, they were strangers to one another, which meant there would be no close coordination between them.

They also held each other in contempt and were watchful of one another — so there was even less chance of any meaningful cohesion.

“Is this all of them?”

The Mohe chieftain asked.

Guo Ruren nodded. “This is everyone. You and them — split into two groups going to Jizhou. No interference with each other. They’ll find their own methods, you’ll find yours.”

He looked at the Mohe chieftain. “So these fifty thousand taels won’t be as easy to earn as you thought.”

“It’s not that hard either.”

The Mohe chieftain raised his hand. On one finger sat a small black object no larger than the pad of a finger — Guo Ruren couldn’t make out what it was.

The chieftain flicked it with his thumb. The small thing flew into the air, making a sharp, piercing sound.

Guo Ruren frowned. “What are you doing?”

The Mohe chieftain looked at him and answered, “When you’ve already guessed what might be about to happen, don’t wait for it to happen and then think of a solution. Our purpose is to make certain things don’t happen.”

Guo Ruren’s frown deepened. “What is that supposed to mean?”

From the walls surrounding the compound on all sides, dozens of Mohe warriors vaulted in — all dressed in their wide hemp robes. In the same instant that they landed, every one of them drew a repeating crossbow from beneath those robes. Their movements were perfectly synchronized.

In one moment, a dense storm of bolts rained down from all sides onto the jianghu figures standing in the courtyard.

Those jianghu figures were no amateurs — but they had no crossbows, and no iron armor.

Against such a coordinated volley, their martial skill counted for very little.

By the time each man had emptied his repeating crossbow, not one of the sixty men in the courtyard had come through unscathed.

Their bolts were precise and ruthless — every one aimed directly for a vital spot.

Guo Ruren had never seen killing carried out with such efficiency, such coordination.

“How do you have repeating crossbows?!”

Guo Ruren spun sharply toward the Mohe chieftain.

He saw the chieftain’s left hand rise. From his sleeve flew a black chain — in one blink the chain had wrapped around Guo Ruren’s neck, and Guo Ruren was yanked forward.

A breath later, an iron spike slid out from within the Mohe chieftain’s right sleeve and drove into Guo Ruren’s chest with a thud.

Guo Ruren was wearing his brand-new red official robe. The crimson of the blood deepened its color.

The chain released. Guo Ruren dropped to the ground.

He breathed in rapid, desperate gasps — fighting for every breath as a person fights the heavens and earth to go on living. Those who win that fight live; those who lose, die.

His vision began to blur, so he could not see: the other Mohe warriors were moving through the courtyard like a company of ghosts, finishing the work. They walked at an unhurried pace from one fallen man to the next, drove the iron spike down, pulled it free, and moved to the next.

It was not long before only they remained in that courtyard.

The Mohe chieftain raised his right arm, held it across his chest, and struck it softly twice.

All the men, in that dark night, responded in a single low voice.

“Hu—”

A moment later, two Court Provisioner officers carried Guo Ruren’s body into the study and set the corpse in the chair.

The Mohe chieftain came in afterward and sat behind the writing desk, setting his box upon the table.

He opened it. Inside were all manner of disguise tools.

He gestured. One of the Court Provisioner officers moved the bronze mirror over to him.

Not long ago, the man in the mirror and the man before the mirror had looked at each other, smiling — so bright, so pleased with themselves.

“If I fail.”

The chieftain looked at his comrades.

“When you return, tell the Chief Court Provisioner. Tell General Li: I gave everything I had, and did not disgrace the name of the Court Provisioners.”

He paused there for a moment, looking at the corpse seated across from him.

“I am no Mohe man. My name is Shang Qingzhu. I come from a village at the foot of Yanshan, a place called Kaoshanc un. The food my family ate, the silver my family spent — all of it was what General Li provided. My mother always said: a person must know how to repay kindness.”

He began carefully applying the disguise — working off Guo Ruren’s face, which had already drained of all color.

Looking at Guo Ruren, then at the bronze mirror.

At Guo Ruren, then at the mirror.

When dawn came, a figure in red robes — Guo Ruren — walked out through the compound gates.

He stood at the entrance and drew in a long, deep breath.

In his hand he held a scroll — written in the real Guo Ruren’s own hand: the plan for assassinating Li Chi.

“To the General’s compound.”

Guo Ruren gave the instruction, stepped forward, and boarded the carriage.