Inside a carriage.

Shen Ruzhan sat composed and calm.

Apart from her personal bodyguards, the carriage was surrounded on all sides by a dense formation of Ning Army soldiers.

A few mastiffs had indeed gone crashing about with nowhere to go and blundered into the main Ning Army column — where each of them received a generous gift of arrows, delivered like a downpour.

“Mistress, nothing got through.”

Lu Qingluan said quietly from outside the carriage.

Shen Ruzhan set down the book she had been reading, raised one hand, and opened the carriage window to look out.

The slope was a scene of devastation — tea gardens badly damaged across a wide stretch.

Above, Ning soldiers in black armor were conducting sweeps back and forth. She could see a group of prisoners being marched toward the far side of the slope.

Shen Ruzhan knew these people would not be kept alive.

If Li Chi lacked even that degree of resolve, what business did he have being King of Ning?

“Anyone escape?”

Shen Ruzhan asked.

Lu Qingluan gave a small nod: “Some escaped. An unknown number — though the ones who got away were likely the principal figures.”

Shen Ruzhan asked: “Did anyone follow?”

Lu Qingluan bowed: “He went himself.”

The “he” Lu Qingluan referred to needed no name — Shen Ruzhan understood immediately.

Throughout the entire Shen Medical Hall — every branch combined, all operatives both visible and hidden — there were no more than three people who gave Lu Qingluan pause.

Of those three, one was someone Lu Qingluan believed she could match.

Another was the woman sitting in the carriage — Shen Ruzhan herself.

Only one of the three was someone Lu Qingluan, with all her confidence, could not deny was beyond her.

Never mind Lu Qingluan’s own assessment — she believed that even among the formidable ranks of the Tingwei Army, only one person could be mentioned in the same breath as him: the Tingwei Army’s chief instructor, Master Ye.

Of course, that was only Lu Qingluan’s personal judgment — she did not, in truth, know much about Master Ye.

“Why did he suddenly take an interest?”

Shen Ruzhan murmured to herself.

A man like him — there was almost nothing in the world that stirred him. No one worth his deliberate attention, no one who could kindle his competitive instinct.

If there was such a person, it would not have been for a reason like this.

It was not entirely self-regard, either. There was also the fact that he was lazy.

Lu Qingluan said: “I assumed he would send someone else, but he went himself. Now no one can even reach him — there’s no way to get word to him until he decides to come back.”

Shen Ruzhan smiled faintly: “That one…”

Behind the carriage, six figures in deep gray robes kept pace on horseback. They looked toward the slope, and all six wore strange expressions.

One said: “Why did he suddenly get in the mood for this?”

Another said: “Maybe because the one who escaped was very large.”

By “very large,” he of course meant Pei Lang.

The youngest of the six looked no older than sixteen or seventeen — a girl with delicate, pretty features.

She hesitated, glanced at the others nervously, and said in a very low voice: “I think he went… because he was piqued.”

All five of the others turned to look at her. She shrank further, dropping her head.

“How was I supposed to know he would care about something like that…”

The girl said: “When I saw that man throw the stones, I said — what a big, tall person. Someone built like that has unrivaled strength from birth.”

The five exchanged glances, thinking: that still shouldn’t have done it — he wasn’t the sort to be spurred by competition.

“Qi,” said one of them, a young man in his mid-twenties. “What else did you say?”

The girl hesitated and said: “I said that man had already escaped, so we needn’t bother chasing. Chasing people is something we’re not as good at as the Tingwei Army.”

The five exchanged another look. Still didn’t seem right. Still just a matter of competition — and he wasn’t the type to rise to that kind of bait, especially over something unrelated to him.

“Qi. What else did you say?!”

“I said… I said, I just mentioned — the Tingwei Army’s chief Tingwei is a woman. Our Mistress is also a woman. Both very capable women. Though the chief Tingwei’s subordinates seem somewhat more capable — a bit stronger than us…”

All five immediately understood.

They looked at the girl. One of them raised a thumb: “Qi, well done. Since Two’s incident, Zero hasn’t made a move in a long time. That you could get him to…”

He stopped mid-sentence, suddenly realizing he had said a name he should not have said.

Two. That traitor.

Everyone fell silent. It was as though the sudden mention of that person had cast a shadow over them all.

In the carriage, the faint smile that had been on Shen Ruzhan’s face disappeared the moment she heard the name Two.

—

Up on the slope.

Li Chi sat looking toward the far side of the slope as all the prisoners were brought below.

He watched Gao Zhen raise his hand — then bring it down.

In nearly the same moment, at least a hundred and seventy or eighty heads fell. Ning soldiers sheathed their blades and swiftly set about dealing with the bodies.

Cao Lie, sitting beside him, watched in silence for a moment before saying: “Did you ever, before, imagine that one day you would hold the power of life and death over so many people — without even trying?”

Li Chi shook his head: “No.”

Cao Lie asked: “And now — doesn’t something stir inside you?”

What he meant by this was: you are someone who came from nothing, whose greatest ambition was once just a full stomach.

So in those days you could not have imagined becoming the King of Ning, wielding the power of life and death.

Yet now you watch these people die because of you — don’t you feel anything?

Li Chi turned his head and looked at Cao Lie, his voice flat: “If you think that because people die because of me, I ought to feel something — what is a few hundred men?”

He rose and walked toward the carriages, speaking as he went: “Every death in the Ning Army’s campaigns — those Tang Pidi killed, those Dantai Qi killed, those Gao Zhen killed… everything every Ning soldier has killed — all of it should be counted against me. Because everyone who was killed, died because of me.”

He looked back at Cao Lie: “Can you guess whether I feel anything about that?”

Cao Lie shook his head: “I was being shallow.”

Li Chi said: “Of all the people alive right now, if you tallied by blood on their hands, I would be in the top ten.”

Cao Lie was momentarily speechless.

Li Chi said: “In the future, perhaps number one.”

Cao Lie stared at this young man, and something in his chest went cold — and then his whole body went cold.

—

Twenty days later. Yuzhou City.

In the rear courtyard of a trading house.

Master Qiu stepped inside and quickened his pace, bowing low: “Young Mistress, I’m back.”

Changsun Wuyou turned and looked at him, offering a small smile: “You’ve had a hard journey.”

Master Qiu bowed even lower: “Young Mistress, the matter was not handled cleanly. There may be complications going forward.”

Changsun Wuyou asked: “What went wrong?”

Master Qiu said: “No one anticipated that Tang Pidi would dispatch a cavalry unit to receive Li Chi — and position it right at the ambush site. Our escape route was cut off by that cavalry. Their commander was Gao Zhen. We…”

Changsun Wuyou said: “If Gao Zhen was there, it’s a miracle you made it back at all. His cavalry are hardened by a hundred battles — there was no way you could have held them.”

She asked: “And Pei Lang?”

Master Qiu said: “He is too conspicuous. I told him to stay outside the city for now.”

Changsun Wuyou said: “Once he’s shown his face, he’s right to stay out of Yuzhou. Anyone who sees him will remember him.”

After a moment’s thought, she said to Master Qiu: “Have your people stay at the country estate outside the city. Tomorrow I’ll take my people out as well. Since Li Chi has been alerted, once he reaches Yuzhou, he’ll move aggressively inside the city. We should lie low for now. You go ahead and prepare — we’ll return to the estate tomorrow.”

“Yes!”

Master Qiu bowed, then paused and offered a reminder: “The King of Ning, Li Chi — his martial skill is unlike anything I have seen in my lifetime.”

Changsun Wuyou was taken aback.

Yuwen Shangyun had said that Li Chi’s martial skill was considerable, but had never said how considerable.

Master Qiu had seen much of the world and walked the rivers and lakes for decades. If he said Li Chi was formidable — the finest he had ever encountered — then Li Chi’s martial skill was likely among the very best of this age.

Master Qiu said: “Also — our plan failed. Cao Lie may have returned with the army. If he’s inside their column, our scheme falls apart on its own.”

Changsun Wuyou gave a quiet sigh: “I understand… Master Qiu, go and rest.”

“Yes.”

Master Qiu bowed again and withdrew.

After leaving the trading house, he spotted a small shop down the road selling mutton soup and baked flatbreads. His stomach was growling with hunger — it was nearly dusk and he had not eaten all day.

He thought eating first and then leaving the city would not be too late. So he made his way toward the shop.

The shop’s business was slow. There was only one other customer.

“Proprietor, one bowl of mutton soup, three flatbreads, a small dish of pickled vegetables.”

He said his order and sat down at an empty table. Before long everything arrived.

Out of habit, he glanced at the young man who was eating. He looked about twenty-six or twenty-seven, and the way he ate was somewhat peculiar.

Master Qiu watched the young man tear his flatbread into small pieces and drop them into the soup — but then make no move to eat. He sat there, studying the bowl intently, as though observing something.

Genuinely curious, Master Qiu could not help but say: “Young man — if you don’t eat soon, the bread will turn to mush.”

The young man looked up and gave him a grateful smile: “Thank you. But I’m not hungry.”

Master Qiu asked: “Not hungry? Then why sit here eating?”

The young man said: “I just needed a place to sit. I wanted to see when you would come out. If I didn’t buy something, it would look wrong — it would be unreasonable to sit somewhere that sells food without ordering anything.”

Master Qiu’s brow furrowed.

He glanced toward the trading house — about thirty paces away. At his speed, making it back should not be a problem.

But if he ran back there, it might expose the Young Mistress, and he had no way of knowing how many people this young man had brought.

“Tingwei Army?”

He asked quietly.

The young man shook his head: “No.”

Though they had never met before, Master Qiu found himself, to his own bewilderment, instinctively believing the answer.

“Hmm… that really is a waste.”

The young man picked up his chopsticks, turned to Master Qiu with an apologetic look, and said: “So. Why don’t we both eat first, and if I’m eating slowly, you wait for me — because I always eat very slowly.”

Master Qiu moved suddenly, both wrists flicking outward, and two blades flew from his sleeves in a flash.

The young man seemed to sigh — as though this were a tiresome inconvenience.

His left hand lifted and swept sideways in a slow, almost casual motion, and he caught both blades in the same instant. He set them neatly on the table.

He said: “That’s not ideal.”

Master Qiu launched himself backward, aiming to escape through the back window.

The young man raised his left hand again and simply pointed at Master Qiu — just pointed — and Master Qiu’s backward flight suddenly went rigid. Then he fell forward, perfectly straight, and hit the floor.

Once he hit the floor, he could not move at all. Every limb locked — all sensation gone except for his eyes.

The shop owner went pale, staring at the young man, convinced he was either a demon or an immortal.

The young man looked at Master Qiu. Then he looked at the bowl of soup.

In the end, he chose to stand and leave.

Even for a choice as simple as that, he seemed to find it tiresome.

He rose, and though he was already headed for the door, he could not help himself — he picked up a piece of bread that had been soaking in the soup and took a bite. He chewed twice, then spat it out.

He said to the proprietor: “It’s not good.”

The proprietor flinched, terrified he was about to be pointed at.

The young man reached into his coin purse, counted out the money, and set it on the table: “This is mine.”

Then he went over and took Master Qiu’s coin purse, counted out some copper coins, and set those on the table too.

“This is his.”

He finished, then carefully hung the coin purse back on Master Qiu’s belt.

He hoisted Master Qiu onto his back and walked out. The proprietor stood there not knowing what to say, and out of pure reflex said: “Safe travels, sir, please come again.”

Hearing this, the young man turned back to look at the proprietor, who stumbled a few steps backward in terror.

He saw that the young man’s face carried a perfectly sincere, remorseful expression.

The young man said: “I’m sorry.”

Then he left.

And in that moment, the proprietor forgot his fear — because those words had been spoken with such gravity, such weight.

It was not “I’m sorry” in three characters.

It was, in truth, five: *It really isn’t good.*

—