The academy’s coursework was not, in truth, particularly grueling. These young people had started their studies far earlier than children from ordinary families, so there was no need for basic primers by the time they enrolled.

The academy’s curriculum was not confined to books. The fact that the three pillars of study placed debate and inquiry on equal footing with reading was itself telling.

Some said the academy operated this way to teach according to each student’s individual aptitude — using debate and inquiry to assess a student’s natural gifts and learning, then tailoring instruction accordingly.

Others said the academy’s coursework ran shorter hours than even a private tutor’s lessons because the academy had gathered the finest teachers in all of Jizhou, and naturally the finest teachers taught differently than ordinary ones.

In reality, neither explanation was quite right. The reason the coursework wasn’t burdensome — and why students were encouraged to debate and inquire freely rather than memorize through rote — was simply because the students all came from good families.

It was that simple. The people who wrote the imperial examination questions were well acquainted with the Dean, and the Dean maintained correspondence with his associates every year. These students were wealthy or well-connected, or both. Once you took all of that together and still insisted the academy’s results came purely from its superior teaching quality… you were probably being paid to say so.

Not to deny that the academy’s instruction truly was excellent — it was. Just not quite as miraculous as ordinary people believed. Common folk imagined that any child with enough money could be sent to the academy and be guaranteed a brilliant future. How unreasonable was that?

A brilliant future might be uncertain, but making something respectable of oneself — that was quite achievable. Otherwise, Li Diudiu’s master would not have spent ten years of hardship steering Li Diudiu toward the academy’s gates.

A month passed quickly. Another monthly examination came.

After the examination, there would customarily be one day off, and with a rest day falling the following day as well, the disciples had two consecutive days of leisure.

After coming out of the examination hall, Liu Shengying couldn’t help asking Li Diudiu: “How did you do?”

Li Diudiu shrugged: “You know how I am. There weren’t many who could beat me, at any rate.”

Liu Shengying: “Uh…”

What he lacked was precisely this kind of confidence — this shamelessness of Li Diudiu’s.

Liu Shengying asked carefully: “Tomorrow, where are you going? I’d like to invite you to my home as a guest.”

Li Diudiu shook his head: “I’ll pass.”

Liu Shengying felt a pang of disappointment. “Do you have something urgent?”

Li Diudiu shook his head again: “If I go to your home, I’d have to bring gifts. I’m seriously short on money, so I’d better not. Besides, I need to earn some.”

“You don’t have to bring anything!”

“That would make your parents feel the friends you’ve made aren’t proper. Trust me. Besides, I need to earn money. Since the semester started, I’ve been going to the Yunzhai Teahouse for only one hour a day, and my income has fallen noticeably.”

Liu Shengying asked: “Is it a lot less?”

“On average, about ten-some coins less per day.”

Liu Shengying: “…”

Li Diudiu patted him on the shoulder: “Go on home. I still need to go teach Young Miss Gao martial arts. We’ll meet in a couple of days.”

“Alright, see you in a couple of days.”

Liu Shengying’s expression was a bit off. He hadn’t expected Li Chi to refuse so directly. It wasn’t that he felt embarrassed — it was simply a sense of loss.

“Hey.”

Li Diudiu called after him.

Liu Shengying turned around immediately: “You changed your mind?”

Li Diudiu handed Liu Shengying a lollipop: “When have I ever changed my mind so easily? This is for you — it’s very sweet.”

Liu Shengying took the lollipop, and a small smile finally appeared at the corner of his mouth.

—

As usual, Li Diudiu went to the small grove to wait for Gao Xining. But since moving to the main-course classes, he had gone an entire month without seeing her — her grandfather must be keeping an extremely strict watch over her.

Even so, Li Diudiu didn’t leave. He sat down in the grove and quietly reviewed everything he had learned that day, going over it in his mind. He waited for a full hour. Gao Xining still didn’t appear. Li Diudiu let out a long breath.

He made it to the cafeteria in time to catch a bit of food. He wolfed it down, then returned to his room and changed his clothes. No one shared the room with him, despite it being a multi-person dormitory.

From his very first day at the academy until now, no one had ever moved in with him — partly because most academy disciples didn’t live on campus, and partly because they felt Li Diudiu was not their kind of person.

Night fell quickly. Li Diudiu retrieved the night-stalking outfit he had made himself. It had been a very long time since he’d worn it. He looked at the pants — they were short on him now. He looked down and thought to himself that a cropped night-stalking outfit was probably a rare thing indeed.

He put it on and felt a faint twinge of guilt, as if he were disgracing the entire profession of nocturnal infiltrators.

He fished out his mask and put it on, then looked at himself in the bronze mirror. Even through a mask this hideous, he could still feel his own extraordinary handsomeness radiating through. Truly remarkable. If he ever sold himself short, lightning would surely strike him down.

So he never dared say he wasn’t handsome. Too afraid of the consequences.

His master had also taught him: if a person is truly perfect and you insist he isn’t, that is slander. And those who slander others invite misfortune.

Li Diudiu reasoned that slandering others brings misfortune, so slandering oneself would be even worse — perhaps not just five thunderbolts, but six or seven or eight, delivered in one complete, thorough, thoroughly scorching welcome.

Overcoming his fear of the dark.

Li Diudiu took a deep breath, put on his mask, then leaped out through the back window. He was not going to look for trouble with Wang Heita — that was a person he absolutely would not kill, even if Wang Heita couldn’t exactly be called a good man.

Li Diudiu thought it through: the portrait was in his possession, which meant he had accepted this task. And as long as he took no action, the Qingyi Formation wouldn’t send anyone else after Wang Heita for the time being.

What if that big lug came to his senses one day and simply left? Killing someone was something Li Diudiu still didn’t want to touch, in the end.

But the words Ruan Chen and the others had spoken that night had given Li Diudiu an idea — going out at night to catch criminals, keeping one-fifth of what was recovered. If the criminal was a big one, wouldn’t he make his grandmother’s fortune?

In the past month-plus, Li Diudiu had managed to save roughly fifty taels. The housing prices in Jizhou City had recently climbed a bit higher again. Those people coming in from other places — wealthy, well-connected — truly had no regard for money. As outside bandits grew more rampant, more people had been trickling into Jizhou City. Refugees couldn’t get in, but wealthy people could — and they bought up properties without a moment’s hesitation. Li Diudiu thought to himself that these price-inflating reprobates all deserved a full round of ten divine thunderbolts.

After climbing out the back window, he followed the small paths through the academy, keeping to the shadows. If he were spotted looking like this, he would be expelled without question.

He reached the perimeter wall, looked around, and seeing no one, vaulted up to the top in a single bound and landed lightly on the other side. He was rather pleased with his recent training.

He turned around, and there were three or four people in patrol officer’s uniforms staring at him in absolute stupefaction. The one in front had gone white in the face the moment Li Diudiu turned around.

There in the darkness of the night, Li Diudiu stood awkwardly — dark face, bright white teeth, eyes rolling in their sockets. Every one of the patrol officers was too frightened to move, too frightened to speak.

Li Diudiu was quiet for a moment, then rasped in a rough, hoarse voice: “Your time has not yet come. Why do you stand in my path? Do you seek death?”

“Time… your time…”

The officer at the front stammered: “Who… who are you?!”

Li Diudiu said with perfect gravity: “I have come to collect lives. Since we have crossed paths, it must be fate. Allow me to escort you back first.”

With that, he flicked his wrist and sent a coil of rope flying from his sleeve. This was a tool he carried for climbing wooden buildings — something he never left home without: rope, a short blade, medicine for wounds, and a small packet of dirt.

With a snap of his wrist, the rope sailed through the air in a perfect loop and coiled itself around the neck of one of the patrol officers. The man let out a terrified yelp and grabbed at it with both hands, trying to pull it loose. The others weren’t about to risk their lives over whether this thing was human or ghost. They turned and ran.

The night had clouds covering the moon, so the patrol officers couldn’t make out the color of Li Diudiu’s clothing. All they could see was two rows of gleaming white teeth floating in the darkness.

Li Diudiu released the rope and said: “Catching one is hardly worth my trouble. Tonight I still have three or four hundred lives left to collect — my quota is large. Your colleagues have already fled. One of you alone isn’t enough. You may go as well. I’ll go collect those three or four hundred wandering souls.”

The officer scrambled and ran for his life, something dripping down his trouser leg with every step.

Li Diudiu watched him flee into the distance, laughing, and turned around — only to find someone standing directly behind him. He spun around, caught sight of the figure, and let out an involuntary yelp of fright. The person flinched with a start as well.

Li Diudiu stared for a moment, then recognized Ye Zhangzhu.

He recognized him. But Ye Zhangzhu hadn’t recognized him yet. He startled, then swung a palm straight at Li Diudiu’s face. Li Diudiu leaped back and called out that he was a friend.

Ye Zhangzhu replied: “Who are you calling a ghost?!”

It took Li Diudiu a moment to understand — Ye Zhangzhu had heard “friend” and interpreted it as “fellow spirit.”

“Li Chi! Li Chi!”

Li Diudiu called his own name twice, and only then did Ye Zhangzhu’s relentless, storm-like assault cease. He looked Li Diudiu up and down for a good while, then reached out and pulled off his mask.

“What are you doing?!”

“I… I was thinking of going out to rob the rich to benefit this poor soul.”

Ye Zhangzhu thought about it. That’s just robbery.

“Nothing good to learn from.”

Ye Zhangzhu glared at Li Diudiu: “Don’t go out tonight. Something big has happened. Go back and stay put. I just got back myself — and the first thing I see is something floating around out here.”

Only then did Li Diudiu notice that Ye Zhangzhu’s blue robe didn’t look quite right. There were cuts in the fabric, and what appeared to be traces of blood barely visible.

“Are you alright, Teacher Ye?”

He asked quickly.

“Fine. Wang Heita’s people went berserk. For reasons unknown, the Changxing Gambling House sent everyone out in force and killed dozens of our brothers in one night. All four formation-door guardians were alerted and came, which is what finally suppressed Wang Heita’s people.”

Li Diudiu tensed up on hearing this.

“Why would he suddenly attack the Qingyi Formation unprovoked?”

“He wasn’t attacking the Qingyi Formation. He was attacking all of Lian Gongming’s shadow businesses. Some of those businesses were under the Qingyi Formation’s protection — you may not have known.”

Ye Zhangzhu let out a sigh, his voice carrying a note of sorrow: “He was a real man. At least twenty blades in him, and he still wouldn’t fall. With his last breath, he roared up at the sky — ‘I have repaid my debt of gratitude. We are even!'”

Li Diudiu’s heart clenched.

That tower of a man, in the end, was gone.

—