Li Chi looked at Zhou Qixi. On this man’s face was a look of resolute determination — and that, of all things, was not a kind of determination an ordinary person could muster.

“Let us eat first.”

Li Chi reached down and helped Zhou Qixi to his feet: “Even if you’ve admitted to everything, it doesn’t get in the way of eating first.”

He looked around at the vegetable plots: “Such fine vegetables.”

Zhou Qixi rose, his eyes holding something that was difficult to read.

After lunch, Li Chi did not stay at the official residence but rather took up lodgings at the official post station.

“Fang Xidao.”

Li Chi glanced at the two Censorate officers who had followed him in — one was Fang Xidao, the other was Du Yan.

Fang Xidao promptly bowed: “Your Highness.”

Li Chi said: “Among the dossiers we brought with us, find all the ones concerning Zhou Qixi.”

Then Li Chi turned to Du Yan and said: “Go and post a notice outside the post station — inform the residents of the entire city that I will be staying in Jinzhou for three days. Starting tomorrow, anyone with a grievance or injustice they wish to present may come to the post station and find me.”

Du Yan bowed: “By your command.”

The two men turned and filed out one after the other.

Gao Xining poured Li Chi a cup of tea and handed it to him: “Is there something that doesn’t feel quite right?”

She asked: “Do you think this Zhou Qixi is hiding something?”

Li Chi shook his head: “I’m not afraid of Zhou Qixi having a problem. What I’m afraid of is him having no problem at all.”

He looked at Gao Xining: “If he has a problem, then it’s his problem alone — we deal with him alone. But if he has no problem, yet six or seven anonymous letters were sent to Jizhou targeting him, then this is not a problem with one person.”

“If an unqualified official is denounced, that doesn’t strike me as a terribly serious matter. But if a qualified official is being collectively worked against in an attempt to bring him down — that is a very serious matter.”

Li Chi looked at Gao Xining: “Within three days, no matter whose problem it is, I intend to dig it out.”

That same afternoon, Li Chi changed his clothes, applied a disguise, and slipped out of the post station with Yu Jiuling.

To say nothing of these two men’s light-footed movement arts — slipping away quietly was hardly any difficulty at all.

The two of them, one disguised as a scholar, the other as a page boy.

Yu Jiuling walked along glancing down at his page boy getup and sighing continuously.

Li Chi gave him a sideways look.

Yu Jiuling said: “The Censorate troops have all kinds of costumes in their traveling pack. You can dress me as anything you want, Chief — did it have to be a page boy…”

Li Chi said: “What’s wrong with being a page boy?”

Yu Jiuling said: “It’s…”

He looked down at himself again.

Nothing wrong with being a page boy — it was just that the clothes were far too small.

The trousers didn’t reach his calves. The lower half of his legs from the shin down were completely exposed.

Bad enough on its own, but the trousers were also tight — not just tight in the legs but tight in the crotch.

The top was small as well. Yu Jiuling had filled out a bit lately, and the shirt was stretched across him like a second skin, with three-quarter-length sleeves to match.

Li Chi said: “When you travel the jianghu and play a role, the character you portray must match the role’s qualities. You’re playing a page boy from a family of modest means.”

Yu Jiuling looked at Li Chi’s outfit — a beautiful brocade robe of considerable expense.

In his hand was a folding fan with a gold-edged shaft of Xiang River concubine bamboo — the gold edging wasn’t decorative but was there to protect the delicate bamboo. With a crisp snap he flicked the fan open, and the calligraphy on the face of it was in Li Chi’s own hand. Whether Li Chi’s calligraphy was worth anything or not was beside the point, but if the signature bore the name “Master Songming,” that would be thoroughly shameless.

Yu Jiuling sighed: “Chief, that fan of yours — easily worth several thousand taels if someone made an offer. Your robe, your shoes, the pendant at your waist… and you’re saying our household is of modest means?”

Li Chi said: “No — it’s the page boy’s household that’s of modest means. Otherwise, why would they have sold you to me as a page boy?”

Yu Jiuling thought about it, and that was actually a pretty sound argument, damn it.

Li Chi looked at Yu Jiuling: “Just now you said you’d do any disguise?”

Yu Jiuling keenly sensed that this question had danger lurking inside it, and immediately declared with firm conviction: “Page boy — just page boy! No disguise beats being a page boy.”

Li Chi said: “Don’t force yourself.”

Yu Jiuling said: “No force at all — happy to do it.”

“There’s a teahouse up ahead.”

Li Chi snapped his fan shut with a crisp click: “Come, let’s go take a look.”

After walking a few steps he looked back at Yu Jiuling: “Is dressing up as a wealthy matron not an option?”

Once inside the teahouse, Li Chi sent Yu Jiuling off to find an opportunity to ask around about Zhou Qixi’s reputation among the people.

He himself sat down to listen to the music, meaning to be idle — but after sitting for a short while he noticed three or four errors in the melody being played.

Just then, he spotted several men whose clothing and taste were quite refined walk past — the oldest appeared to be in his fifties or sixties, the youngest in their thirties or forties. They didn’t linger on the ground floor but went straight up to the second floor.

The oldest of them, noticing that the girl playing the instrument had made an error in the melody, paused, looked back toward where she was sitting, and shook his head with a quiet sigh.

From the reaction of the proprietor and the staff, they were clearly regular customers.

Before long, the proprietor exchanged a few words with someone and followed them upstairs as well.

Li Chi raised a hand and called one of the young serving boys over, slipping him a piece of broken silver.

“I’m a merchant from out of town, looking to make some connections with local notables. Those gentlemen who just came in carried themselves with considerable distinction — would you be willing to make an introduction?”

The young server hedged somewhat: “Those few are indeed all major merchants — one deals in silk and satin, another in porcelain. But what line of business are you in, sir?”

Li Chi said: “I’m the sort of man who can turn his hand to any trade. And in whatever trade I choose to enter, others generally find themselves unable to make money anymore.”

The serving boy offered a few polite words of agreement but clearly didn’t believe a word of it — his eyes said as much plainly enough.

When he looked at Li Chi, the expression that occasionally slipped through meant plainly: this sort of fellow who’s all bluster, I’ve seen plenty of your kind.

Li Chi asked: “You don’t believe me?”

The server said: “I wouldn’t dare disbelieve, I wouldn’t dare — a gentleman of your bearing surely wouldn’t say something without substance behind it.”

What he was actually thinking was: the likes of you claiming to be profitable in any trade, that anyone who competes with you has no chance of survival — I see you for exactly what you are, and you’re about as convincing as a cow taking flight.

Li Chi said: “By the look on your face, I can see you think I’m bragging.”

The server said: “I wouldn’t dare, I truly wouldn’t dare.”

Li Chi said: “What if we make a wager? I can make one type of business in this teahouse impossible to continue.”

The server’s face shifted: “Are you here to make trouble?”

Li Chi shook his head and stood up, walking over to where the young girl sat playing. She held a pipa, and the old man behind her held a wind instrument.

Li Chi took out a piece of silver and handed it to the girl. The girl looked somewhat bewildered, glanced up at Li Chi’s face, and for no clear reason her face turned slightly red.

“I’d like to try your instrument.”

Li Chi pointed at what the girl held in her arms.

The girl first looked back at the old man, then shook her head.

Li Chi produced ten taels of silver and held it out to the old man: “I just have an itch to play one piece myself.”

Ten taels of silver — the old man’s eyes lit up, and he reached out and took it: “Please, sir, go ahead.”

Li Chi accepted the instrument, saw that the old man was still standing there, and shook his head: “No need to accompany me.”

He sat down, collected himself for a brief moment, and then began to play.

This piece too came from the texts Li Chi’s master had given him, and was called “Ambush from Ten Sides.”

From the very first note, the customers couldn’t help looking up.

A moment later, all conversation ceased. Some had already risen from their seats involuntarily, wanting a clearer view.

On the second floor, a door creaked open. Two of the men who had just gone up came out and stood leaning against the second-floor railing, looking down.

The serving boy stood there thinking — what’s so impressive about this, and how could it possibly put that father and daughter out of business.

Just as the pipa piece was reaching its most brilliant passage, Li Chi’s hand stopped abruptly. The music cut off.

“Fine instrument.”

Li Chi rose, returned the pipa to the girl, whose face turned even redder.

“Don’t stop!”

“That’s right, keep going!”

Some patrons had already called out — even those who knew nothing of music could tell the piece hadn’t been finished.

Li Chi smiled at them, then returned to his seat.

Yu Jiuling, who had been chatting with another server near the entrance, watched Li Chi and thought to himself — Chief, you’ve been showing off again…

The server he’d been talking to was also watching Li Chi now. Yu Jiuling tugged at him: “Let’s keep talking.”

The server said: “Your clothes…”

Yu Jiuling: “What do you know! This is the most fashionable style in Jizhou city right now — you can’t get more fashionable than this.”

Server: “Is that… so?”

In the main hall.

“Sir, please continue!”

“Sir, what is that piece called?”

Quite a few people were calling out to Li Chi, but Li Chi only smiled and said nothing.

The father and daughter looked at each other, sat back down, and prepared to continue their performance.

They had barely settled in when someone called out: “You two step down — let that gentleman finish the piece he was playing.”

“You two, step aside first.”

One person called out, and others followed. Before long the calls inside the teahouse were coming from every direction.

The serving boy this time was truly dumbfounded — could someone really just arbitrarily destroy another person’s livelihood like this?

“Sir, if you’ll name your price, I’m sure we can arrange for you to finish the piece.”

Someone had thought it through — they couldn’t simply expect the gentleman to perform for nothing.

On the second floor, the elderly man who appeared to be around sixty looked down and asked: “Xi Liu — do you know this guest?”

The one addressed as Xi Liu was the teahouse proprietor, a man named Yuan Xi Liu.

He shook his head: “Elder Guo, I’ve never seen him before. Must be someone from out of town.”

Elder Guo said: “Have someone go and ask — whether it’s possible to invite him to finish the piece. If I can’t hear how it ends, I fear I won’t sleep properly for the next few days. In all my years, I have never heard a piece with such depth of feeling. It was as though I could see cavalry and iron clash before my very eyes…”

Yuan Xi Liu promptly responded: “Elder Guo, give me a moment — I’ll go down myself.”

The proprietor quickly descended the stairs and walked over to Li Chi with a smile: “This gentleman — if I may ask, how shall I address you?”

Li Chi said: “My surname is Three. Three as in one, two, three. Three as in one hundred taels, two hundred taels, three hundred taels.”

The proprietor thought — unusual surname, but was there really any need to explain it in quite that much detail, including the three-hundred-taels variety.

He smiled and asked: “Gentleman Three, might you tell us — what was the name of the piece you just played?”

Li Chi said: “It’s called ‘Five-Sided Ambush.'”

The proprietor was slightly taken aback. He thought — odd surname, and an odd piece name too.

As names went, people spoke of “Four-Sided Ambush” or “Ten-Sided Ambush” — nobody had ever said “Five-Sided Ambush.”

He ventured to ask: “Gentleman, there are several distinguished guests upstairs who could tell the piece was only played halfway through, and have been left desperately wanting more. They sent me down to ask — what would it take for you to finish playing it?”

Li Chi said: “You mean that Five-Sided Ambush I just played?”

The proprietor nodded eagerly: “Indeed. We’ve been rather presumptuous, and if there are any conditions, please feel free to name them.”

Li Chi said: “Not to boast, but that Five-Sided Ambush — in all the world, only I know how to play it. And not only that piece, but another piece as well — also known only to me…”

The proprietor said quickly: “Your talent is extraordinary, sir. May I ask…”

Li Chi held out his hand: “One hundred taels. For the piece just now.”

The proprietor looked back toward the second floor. Elder Guo gave a nod.

The proprietor had someone bring a hundred taels of silver, which was placed before Li Chi: “Please accept it, sir.”

Li Chi said: “No need to ask — I’ll take it regardless.”

The proprietor waited for Li Chi to rise and go play, but Li Chi sat there drinking his tea, showing not the slightest sign of getting up.

The proprietor couldn’t help asking: “Gentleman, why aren’t you going?”

Li Chi said: “Hmm? Going where?”

The proprietor looked at the hundred taels of silver: “That piece just now…”

Li Chi looked at the money: “Isn’t this a thank-you gift?”

The proprietor said: “No no — this is to request that you play the piece again.”

Li Chi held out his hand: “One hundred taels.”

The proprietor looked back again toward the second floor. Elder Guo’s expression had grown somewhat displeased, but he nodded again.

The proprietor sighed and had someone bring another hundred taels.

Li Chi took the silver, rose without further comment, walked over to where the girl sat, borrowed her pipa, and played the piece from the beginning exactly as before — and stopped at precisely the same moment, cutting off abruptly.

On the second floor, Elder Guo listened, his eyes narrowing, his hand moving of its own accord to tap lightly on the railing.

Just as the most breathtaking passage was about to arrive, the feeling of some surging emotion about to break through — it stopped again. The sensation was like being right on the verge of something, and then having it snatched away at the critical moment.

“Gentleman!”

Now Elder Guo grew anxious, calling down from the second floor: “Why have you stopped again?”

Li Chi looked up at him: “Didn’t we say play the earlier piece one more time? Five-Sided Ambush — it ends right here.”

Elder Guo called out: “This piece is clearly unfinished — how can it just end like this?! It absolutely cannot end here!”

Li Chi said: “It is unfinished. The complete piece is called ‘Ten-Sided Ambush.'”

Before Elder Guo could speak, Li Chi raised his hand: “One hundred taels.”

Elder Guo was so exasperated his whole body swayed.

And for some reason the proprietor suddenly wore an expression of dawning comprehension.

—