Fifty thousand Ning Army troops marched south along the main road in a mighty, sweeping column — their black armor like a great dragon winding toward the sea.

The plains of Yuzhou stretched vast and boundless. Many who came from south of the Yangtze for the first time were struck with awe.

They were unused to land so utterly flat — and so incredibly wide.

As far as the eye could see, the earth looked as though some primordial god had leveled it in a single stroke.

But that was not to say Yuzhou had no mountains.

After crossing the Nanping River and traveling a thousand-odd li of flat, unbroken plain, one would reach Mount Wenyi, which lay within Xinzhou’s borders, surrounded on all sides by tea gardens.

Xinzhou was renowned for its fine tea — the hair-tip variety — and, oddly enough, most of its trade flowed north to Jizhou.

Those further south had no taste for such flavors.

South of the river, especially along the southeastern and southwestern corridors, tea grew in abundance and in great variety. Among the finest varieties, a single catty could fetch a hundred taels of gold.

It was said that somewhere deep in the southwest, there stood an ancient tea tree called the Feathered Spirit Tea — over a thousand years old, the only one of its kind.

Local people had long told the story that a deity had planted it in ages past.

Its leaves were precious beyond compare — a single tael was worth a hundred catties in weight, and even that could not be bought for money alone.

In the earliest days, its entire yield had been reserved as imperial tribute.

Northerners were fond of flower-scented tea, but Jizhou itself produced almost no tea gardens. The flower tea they loved mostly came from Yuzhou.

Some came from Shuzhou and was somewhat more refined — a variety called Jade Pool Floating Snow.

Mount Wenyi’s peaks were not dramatic — each one looked like an enormous steamed bun set down on flat ground.

Rolling and undulating, they were ideal for growing tea.

The column moved along the main road between two such slopes, surrounded on all sides by lush greenery that lifted the spirits.

At the head of the column rode the scouts, followed by the forward cavalry.

Behind the forward cavalry came the main body, then the supply wagons, then the rear guard.

On open plain, the various units could advance abreast, making for a magnificent sight. But in terrain like this, they were strung out like a long dragon.

Li Chi turned to Yu Jiuling: “Pass the order — no one is to damage or strip the tea bushes. Anyone found to have done so will be dealt with severely under military law.”

Yu Jiuling acknowledged the order at once.

On the slopes beside them, tea farmers were at work picking the spring harvest — the pre-Qingming new tea, just coming into season.

In the tea gardens, they worked with heads bowed. Hearing something like thunder passing below, they looked down and beheld an endless army stretching as far as the eye could see.

Many stopped their work to stare, deeply shaken.

Tea bushes are low, reaching only to the waist.

In the rows between them, crouching low, were numerous killers disguised as ordinary tea farmers.

They could not all reveal themselves because there were so many — a tea garden with that many people working it would have seemed obviously wrong.

Among them was one powerfully built man. Being so tall, even crouching he stood as high as a normal person, so he had no choice but to lie flat on the ground.

The elderly Master Qiu, dressed as a tea farmer, raised a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, and in doing so glanced down at the Ning Army column passing below.

“The rear wagons are still about four li back.”

Pei Lang gave a low grunt: “But we can’t be sure which carriage the King of Ning, Li Chi, is traveling in.”

Master Qiu smiled: “I’ll point him out when the time comes.”

—

Among the Ning Army column.

Li Chi sat in his carriage gazing at the tea gardens around him, drawing a long breath as though trying to take in the fragrance.

Gao Xining sat beside him, looking out at the expanse of green, and could not help but draw a long breath herself.

“I love this kind of restful green. If ever there comes a time of leisure, to live in a tea garden like this — what a carefree life that would be.”

She said it half to herself.

Li Chi smiled: “Hmph… women really do change with the wind.”

Gao Xining pursed her lips: “Where did that nonsense come from.”

Li Chi said: “The day before yesterday, passing through Yunhai County, you saw an orchard just coming into bloom and said you loved all that vivid red, and that given the chance you absolutely had to tend your own orchard someday.”

Gao Xining gave a dismissive huff: “And you men aren’t fickle?”

Just then Yu Jiuling returned from delivering the order, caught the tail end of this remark, and said with a laugh: “Ningge is absolutely right. Men are the most constant of creatures — young men fancy young women, middle-aged men fancy young women, old men still fancy — ow!”

A clod of earth hit him squarely on the head.

Li Chi immediately looked left and right, wondering where on earth the thing had come from.

He turned the carriage upside down and couldn’t find the source.

Gao Xining smiled with smug satisfaction: “I have a treasure concealed in my sleeve — nothing more than a small cloth pouch, yet it holds a world within. Never mind a mere clod of earth — if I wanted a meteorite from beyond the heavens, I need only beckon and it would come flying across the sky.”

Yu Jiuling said: “Ningge, when you make up stories, show a little restraint — immortals who overhear you will cover their faces in shame.”

Gao Xining said: “You don’t believe me.”

She pressed her palms together and murmured in a low chant: “Swift as the mandate, come at once…”

Then she flung out her hand.

“Come!”

At that very moment, a boulder weighing at least a hundred-odd catties came flying down from the slope to their side.

By sheer coincidence, Li Chi and Yu Jiuling both happened to be looking in the direction Gao Xining was pointing.

In that instant, Li Chi saw a giant rise to his feet among the tea bushes — visible even from that distance, his imposing build unmistakable.

The man stood a full head and a half above those beside him.

The giant heaved up the boulder with both hands and hurled it toward them with tremendous force.

Such raw power was genuinely terrifying.

Li Chi grabbed Gao Xining around the waist and leapt clear of the carriage, his other hand catching hold of Yu Jiuling by the hair in the same motion…

In that split second of lightning action, Yu Jiuling still managed to feel a pang of jealousy.

Saving Ningge meant an arm around her slender waist.

Saving him, Yu Jiuling, meant a fist in the hair…

Because Li Chi had jumped so quickly — yanking Yu Jiuling by the hair to drag him clear — Yu Jiuling ended up floating horizontally through the air.

BOOM.

The boulder landed with devastating precision, smashing the carriage they had just been riding in to splinters.

In the moment the stone struck, the carriage shattered. The ground erupted as though blasted, waves of earth surging outward.

Had Gao Xining not happened to be pointing in that direction, had Li Chi and the others not spotted it in time, this strike might well have buried all three of them underneath it.

At that very moment, a second boulder came flying down.

Li Chi scooped up Gao Xining and reached for Yu Jiuling again. Yu Jiuling tucked in his neck and shouted: “I can run myself!”

The second boulder landed slightly behind the first, blasting a massive crater in the ground.

The draft horse pulling the carriage behind them took the boulder directly to the head — its skull crushed on the spot, killed before it could even scream.

The carriage lurched and flipped, and the three occupants — Cao Lie, Deng Zhaiyue, and Nie Yuwu — were thrown clear.

Cao Lie turned to look, and in an instant saw the giant on the slope.

“This is bad.”

His expression shifted.

Not because the giant frightened him. Not because the boulders frightened him.

It was because he recognized that not far behind that slope lay his family’s quarry.

He’d even been chatting about it in the carriage earlier — mentioning there was a Cao family holding in this very area.

He looked toward Li Chi — but Li Chi had already become a blur, hurtling up the slope like a hunting leopard.

Behind him, a swarm of elite Tingwei Army soldiers followed in hot pursuit, surging through the tea garden like a pack of beasts charging uphill.

Up on the slope, Master Qiu saw the Ning soldiers moving with such startling speed and his face changed: “Archers, hold them back!”

He reached out and grabbed Pei Lang by the arm: “Run, now!”

But Pei Lang was already reaching for another boulder. He shook his arm free: “Why run from them?”

Without heeding Master Qiu’s pull, he hoisted up a stone and raised it overhead, fixed his gaze on the leading figure below, and hurled it down.

Li Chi looked up. The boulder came down straight at him.

He darted sideways, and in the instant the stone grazed past him, he launched himself upward, landing both feet on the boulder itself.

Like a hawk crouched upon the stone, he then drove off with both legs, shooting forward like a bolt fired from a heavy crossbow.

The boulder hit the ground with a heavy crack, shattering earth and tearing out tea bushes by the roots.

Pei Lang stared in disbelief — he had not imagined anyone could be so formidably quick.

He seized Master Qiu in one hand and swung him up onto his shoulder, then turned and ran.

Pei Lang was so tall and broad that when he ran he looked ungainly — but his legs were long, each stride covering several times a normal man’s. And he was at the top of the slope, so turning to run meant going downhill. His speed was extraordinary — like a great bull charging downward. The tea bushes that reached other men’s waists barely came to his knees, and he trampled a good number of them flat as he went.

Up on the slope, the archers Master Qiu had brought opened fire.

Dressed as tea farmers, their bows had been concealed in the picking sacks.

Li Chi weaved left and right at speed so astonishing the archers’ eyes could not keep up with him.

On the opposite slope, Master Qiu said reproachfully: “I told you to run and you insisted on throwing one more stone.”

Pei Lang laughed: “One more stone is one more stone. Do you think these useless people can stop us?”

Down at the base of this slope, a cavalry force of roughly three or four hundred was waiting. When they saw Pei Lang charging down with Master Qiu on his shoulder, they immediately mounted up.

But at that very moment, from another direction, a dark cloud skimmed along the ground toward them.

Black armor — and above it, banners blazing like flame.

Black for the armor, flame-red for the flags.

“Ning Army cavalry!”

Someone screamed.

It was twelve hundred elite horsemen, thundering forward.

At their head was Gao Zhen, a young general of Tang Pidi’s command — one who could ride through ten thousand enemies and come out the other side.

Seeing a cavalry force waiting below, Gao Zhen knew at once the General had guessed correctly.

He snapped his visor down, unhooked the long spear hanging from his saddle: “Run them over!”

“Charge!”

The cavalry surged forward — black armor angled low, spears leveled.

Seated on Pei Lang’s shoulder, Master Qiu caught sight of the Ning cavalry arriving and his eyes went wide.

“Go! Take the other route!”

Pei Lang spun away from the horse formation and charged toward a distant mountain village instead.

Pei Lang was so tall and broad that when he ran, he looked ponderous — but his stride was enormous, each step the equivalent of several normal paces.

Master Qiu looked back at their pursuers. On the highest point of the slope behind them — the ridge line — a single dark silhouette came flying straight over it, arms spread like an eagle in full flight.

Master Qiu stared at that figure, and the shock in his heart was beyond words.

“That is… the King of Ning, Li Chi…”

He whispered to himself.

Changsun Wuyou had said the King of Ning possessed considerable martial skill and was himself a battlefield commander.

But who could have imagined it was like this.

“Master Qiu, hold on.”

When Pei Lang glanced back, he saw that behind Li Chi, three more dark figures had also come flying over the ridge line.

All three wore black with crimson capes — unmistakably Tingwei Army.

“Hold on!”

Pei Lang roared again, pushing his pace even harder.

A figure like his charging at full speed was like an elephant plowing through everything in its path.

They had known, thankfully, that going after the King of Ning would be dangerous, and had left backup inside the mountain village.

Hearing Pei Lang’s shouts as he ran, the people in the village came pouring out.

And in that moment, from within the village, no fewer than a hundred dark shapes shot into the tea garden like lightning.

These figures moved with impossible speed, their passing marked only by the tea bushes shaking violently as they went.

In the air, a faint metallic smell of blood began to spread.

Li Chi’s eyes went wide. The moment he landed, a mastiff lunged from beneath a tea bush nearby, its jaws aimed straight for his throat.

—