From Jizhou, traveling north all the way to Yanshan would take a month by carriage and horse, passing through many prefectures and counties along the way.

Then from Yanshan to Youzhou, where Xiahou held command, would take roughly another month.

After staying in Youzhou for a spell, they would need to turn back, otherwise they wouldn’t make it back to Jizhou in time for the New Year.

So for this entire journey, Li Chi’s focus was the northern Jizhou region. Two matters were of the utmost importance: first, to inspect the local officials, and second, to inspect the supply lines for the frontier armies.

The situation in Jizhou right now was somewhat complicated — and rather intriguing.

Apart from Xiahou over in Youzhou, along with his former troops at Beishan Pass, who had more or less accepted Prince Ning, the other frontier garrisons refused to recognize Prince Ning. They continued to insist that they were soldiers of Chu.

Because they were frontier troops, and the frontier troops defended not only the land but the dignity of Dachu.

If even the frontier armies stopped recognizing Dachu, then their self-respect and pride would be gone.

Jizhou stretched enormously from east to west, spanning several thousand li, and of that territory, the portion that had accepted Li Chi — and where Li Chi actually had the capacity to supply provisions — amounted to less than a quarter.

The most critical frontier passes that Li Chi could influence likewise accounted for only about a quarter.

“Of the officials governing the hundred-odd prefectures and counties in northern Jizhou, roughly half were appointed by us afterward, and the other half are holdovers from the original administration.”

Li Chi sat in the carriage, reaching out to push open the window for some fresh air.

His gaze quickly returned to the map in his lap, where the route he intended to travel on this journey had been marked out in charcoal. This route had been decided by Li Chi on the spot — apart from himself, only Gao Xining knew of it.

“What worries me most are these holdover officials.”

Li Chi took the water flask Gao Xining handed him and, after drinking a mouthful, asked: “Why is the water a little sweet?”

Gao Xining pointed to her own lips: “Because I just drank from it.”

Li Chi grinned, then kissed the mouth of the flask and gave Gao Xining a rather provocative look.

At that, Gao Xining’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Li Chi asked: “Well? Did that get to you?”

Gao Xining raised her hand and gave Li Chi’s head a thorough tousling: “I’m right here, right in front of you, and you kiss the flask?!”

Li Chi thought about it — that did seem to be a fair point.

Gao Xining pursed her lips, and when she pursed them her lower lip would protrude ever so slightly, giving her an expression of devastating cuteness.

This time Li Chi couldn’t hold back. He lunged forward and stopped her lips with his own.

Was the atmosphere not just a little enchanting?

Then Li Chi caught her lower lip between his teeth and said in a muffled mumble: “Still daring to pout?”

In Gao Xining’s mind, she thought — the man she’d taken a liking to really was a fool…

A moment later, Li Chi sat there meek and obedient as a child who’d done something wrong, both hands placed neatly on his knees, not daring to move.

He didn’t dare move because Gao Xining had her hand on his ear.

Gao Xining looked into Li Chi’s eyes: “What exactly were you trying to do just now?”

Li Chi drew his neck in and answered very carefully: “It… it was just a little bite… that was my fault, I’ll own it. A real man owns what he does.”

Gao Xining raised her hand and rapped him on the forehead: “Own what you do? Was kissing me the thing you did?”

Li Chi said: “This…”

Gao Xining asked: “So you’ve even learned to use a feint now — come on, where did you pick that up?!”

Li Chi: “This…”

As Gao Xining spoke, her face flushed faintly pink. She glanced down at her own clothes — her sash had been untied.

“You bit me, that I endured. But pretending to bite me, pretending to be a fool, while sneaking to undo my sash…”

Gao Xining raised her hand and rapped Li Chi on the skull again: “Where did you learn that?!”

Li Chi: “Didn’t learn it, truly didn’t learn it — if there’s anyone to blame, it’s the military treatises for having too much knowledge in them. Who would have thought they’d be so improper, teaching people to do wicked things. Such depravity — when we get back I’ll burn them all.”

Gao Xining let out a dismissive hum: “You think I’ll believe that with one excuse about military treatises? You didn’t just use a feint — your technique was practically seasoned. Did your military treatises teach you how to undo someone’s sash?”

Li Chi: “I… accept my punishment.”

Gao Xining: “Then tell me — how should you be punished?”

Li Chi: “Why don’t you undo mine too.”

Gao Xining: “Outrageous!”

Li Chi quickly drew his neck in again: “It really was just a natural reflex, I don’t even know what came over that hand of mine, it just…”

Li Chi extended his hand toward her: “If you like, you can cripple it.”

Gao Xining said: “Then cripple it shall be.”

She bit down on the edge of his palm. Li Chi braced himself to cry for help — but then discovered that Gao Xining wasn’t using any force.

Her teeth rested lightly against the edge of his palm, and there seemed to be something nimble and soft that glided ever so gently across it.

That sensation struck Li Chi like someone had pressed his numbing pressure point — his dazed little head went dizzy with a hum, as though intoxicated.

Gao Xining released her mouth, and in the moment those red lips left the edge of his palm, a slender thread of connection still lingered between them.

She narrowed her eyes at Li Chi and slowly drew closer.

Li Chi was still spinning, the kind of dizziness that felt like being poisoned.

Gao Xining leaned in close until she was right before his face, watching his eyes as she asked: “Dare you do that sneaky business of undoing my sash again?”

Li Chi swallowed with great difficulty.

After a long while, Li Chi finally answered: “I… wouldn’t dare.”

Gao Xining leaned in a little further, her soft plump lips pressing against his earlobe as she spoke in a voice very low and very light: “Exactly — next time there’s no need to do it in secret.”

Li Chi’s eyes went wide, and in an instant a most embarrassing tracery of red veins appeared in them.

The inside of his nose felt dry, and a little painful, as though it might bleed.

His throat bobbed up and down, and in the very moment it bobbed, all four of his limbs snapped rigidly straight.

A moment later, a trickle of yet more undignified blood from his nose flowed slowly down in a manner that could only be described as mildly heroic.

Gao Xining sat across from him, and now it was her turn to look like a child who had done something wrong, sitting there meek and docile, hands resting on her knees, her face wearing a thoroughly placating expression.

She bowed her head, suppressing her laughter: “I’m wrong, I’m wrong…”

Li Chi wiped his nose with a handkerchief and sighed: “In the future, don’t go deploying devastating moves like that without warning. Have you got that?!”

Gao Xining nodded rapidly: “Yes, yes… I won’t dare use it again.”

Li Chi said: “Use it you must — only not, hmm… not in a place like this.”

Gao Xining said: “I understand my mistake…”

Li Chi said: “Alright then — how shall I punish you?”

Gao Xining said: “How about I dance a piece for Your Highness? In this moment I am nothing less than the enchantress who could make a king neglect his morning court.”

She raised one hand high above her, then swung her arm as she twisted her hips left, then swung again as she twisted right.

Li Chi sighed: “Brother, when you dance like that, it makes me feel my nosebleed a moment ago was entirely wasted.”

Gao Xining let out a hum: “Get back to your real business, or watch out — I’ll bite you again.”

Li Chi nodded eagerly: “Yes, yes, real business…”

He looked down at the map he’d been holding a moment ago. There was a drop of his nosebleed on it — undeniable evidence of his earlier moment of weakness.

“So we were talking about those holdover officials.”

Li Chi said: “Officials of Dachu — whether at the court or in the localities — are all deeply versed in the art of appropriating benefits for themselves. When I was young and traveled the jianghu with my master, he told me about many of the methods these officials used to line their own pockets — all manner of schemes.”

He looked at Gao Xining and said: “The more local an official is, the more ruthless their methods tend to be… Now that Jizhou has no active campaigns, it’s the perfect time to put local governance in order.”

After a pause, he said to Gao Xining: “If we come across certain individuals like this, it would be better for you not to be present.”

Gao Xining naturally understood Li Chi’s intention — he was worried that scenes of bloodshed would frighten her.

She also understood full well that at the founding of a new order, if one’s methods were not firm enough, the foundations could very easily come apart.

Many rebel armies had fallen precisely this way — not defeated on the battlefield.

At their peak, there had been no fewer than a hundred rebel factions operating within Jizhou’s territory, and among the leaders of these forces, not a few had been men of genuine ability.

The most outstanding among them was naturally Yu Chaozong, the original chief of Yanshan Camp.

Yu Chaozong’s practice of protecting and providing for the common people had earned deep loyalty from the communities surrounding Yanshan Camp.

Among the other rebel forces, not a few had attempted to emulate Yu Chaozong — after seizing a territory, they would issue orders to treat the people well and plan for long-term development.

The intentions were good. But they all overlooked one thing.

The people these rebel leaders used fell into only two categories.

The first was holdover officials, or locally prominent wealthy households and village gentry, on the assumption that such people could quickly stabilize a region.

The second was their own followers — mostly men from hardscrabble backgrounds, who had not read much and had no capacity for long-range thinking.

Li Chi said: “The first kind — holdover officials — the flaw with them is that they are most expert in the art of deceiving those above and suppressing those below, interested only in filling their own pockets.”

“The second kind, used by those rebel leaders — the effect was even more severe. These were common people who had been oppressed for years, and the moment they became officials, they immediately became the very sort of men who had once oppressed them.”

Li Chi sighed: “I still remember that in northern Jizhou there was once a force, in its early days nearly as renowned as Elder Brother Yu.”

“The man’s name was Mei Wujiu. At his height, he commanded tens of thousands and held more than ten prefectures and counties.”

“But the men he appointed to govern locally tyrannized the people and ran roughshod over everyone — especially when it came to merchants and wealthy families, who they would often wipe out entirely at the slightest provocation.”

“By the time Mei Wujiu realized something was wrong, his foundations had already rotted through. He had those men dragged back to him, and they knelt before him weeping, but they were not convinced in their hearts.”

“One of them wailed and said — ‘Chief, we were oppressed by those kinds of people for years. Why should it be that now we’re officials, now we have power, we can’t oppress others?'”

Li Chi slowly exhaled.

“All of this was told to me by Elder Brother Yu back in the day.”

Li Chi continued: “Elder Brother Yu said Mei Wujiu was too absorbed in drilling his troops, too focused on pushing further campaigns to seize more territory — he neglected civil governance.”

“When Mei Wujiu and Elder Brother Yu’s forces came into conflict and were moving toward a decisive battle, the common people under Mei Wujiu’s rule fled en masse — all of them running to Elder Brother Yu’s side.”

“Only then did Mei Wujiu understand — he had long since lost the hearts of the people. And only then did he come to realize: no matter how vast a territory, it cannot serve as a true foundation. The hearts of the people are the true foundation.”

Gao Xining nodded: “So he was defeated in the end.”

Li Chi gave an affirmative sound: “Defeated. Elder Brother Yu crushed Mei Wujiu, and despite the objections of those around him, he intended to keep Mei Wujiu on as one of Yanshan Camp’s chiefs.”

Gao Xining asked: “And then?”

“Then Mei Wujiu left. There has been no word of him for many years.”

Li Chi said: “He told Elder Brother Yu — even though I was defeated by you, I cannot bring myself to serve under the man who beat me. For someone like me, defeat leaves only two roads: either you kill me, or I walk away from this place and never compete with you again.”

Gao Xining said: “Elder Brother Yu truly had extraordinary grace — to simply let him go like that?”

“Indeed.”

Li Chi said: “He let him go just like that. By my reckoning, the man has been gone from the scene for seven or eight years now — who knows where he’s gone to live in seclusion.”

Li Chi smiled: “The subject has drifted rather far afield… Coming back to local governance — my intention on this journey is to take a thorough look. My original plan was to clear out all holdover officials entirely, but I’ll observe as I go. Perhaps there really will be some who are different.”

Just then, someone came riding back from the vanguard and pulled up alongside the carriage, clasping his hands in salute: “Your Highness, straight ahead lies Jinzhou — less than ten li away now. Shall we send word ahead to the Jinzhou officials?”

Li Chi glanced out the carriage window and shook his head: “No need. We enter Jinzhou directly.”

“Yes, sir!”

The rider outside acknowledged the order and galloped forward.

“Jinzhou.”

Li Chi said: “If I recall correctly, the prefectural governor of Jinzhou is a man called Zhou Qixi. Before this, he was Jinzhou’s chief clerk — when the governor and deputy governor fled, he was the one who stayed behind to welcome my army into the city, and so he was kept on as prefectural governor.”

Li Chi looked out the window: “I hope the first holdover official we encounter doesn’t disappoint me.”

—