Jizhou.

A river ran through the heart of Jizhou City, its channel within the city walls not especially wide — yet it was considered one of Jizhou’s finest scenes.

Before Li Chi’s time, the common people of Jizhou were forbidden from freely fishing in this river, forbidden from swimming in it — for the river passed through the rear garden of the Jizhou military governor’s residence, and also through the rear garden of Prince Yu’s manor.

The concern, presumably, was that too much traffic and filth might meet the eyes of the military governor or Prince Yu.

After Li Chi took charge of Jizhou, he abolished this prohibition. Anyone could fish in the river — but nets were forbidden.

One rule abolished, one rule established. And anyone who threw refuse into the channel would themselves be thrown into the channel.

Over the years, the water had grown clearer and cleaner.

Beside the river lay a stretch of sandy bank that Li Chi knew well.

Not long after first arriving in Jizhou, he had arranged with his master, the Daoist Changmei, to meet at the Daoist temple once the first rest day had passed.

But his master had not been taken in by any temple in the city — he had been turned away and driven out. Changmei had spent those days in wretched hardship.

It was on this sandy bank by the river that Li Chi had boiled dumplings for his master. It was here, too, that a constable had come to bully Changmei for his disheveled appearance — and it had been Xiahou Zuo who had stepped forward on Li Chi’s behalf.

Now, Li Chi stood on that same stretch of sand, hands clasped behind his back, gazing at the river as though lost in thought.

Shortly after, a carriage drew to a stop. Yan Qingzhi stepped down and walked quickly to Li Chi’s side.

“Your Highness.”

Yan Qingzhi bowed, but Li Chi reached out and steadied him before he could complete the gesture.

“Master Yan, no need.”

Li Chi turned and pointed at something not far ahead: “Master Yan, do you know who is responsible for this?”

On the sandy bank, a stone stele had appeared at some point — no one knew exactly when. On its face were carved two characters: *supreme filial piety.* The inscription on its reverse told the story of Prince Ning boiling dumplings for his teacher at this very spot.

Yan Qingzhi shook his head: “I don’t know. This is my oversight.”

Li Chi said: “Then it must have been officials from the Jizhou prefecture who arranged it. Look into it. Whoever came up with the idea, and whoever approved it — they can all pack up and leave.”

Yan Qingzhi nodded: “This kind of behavior truly cannot be allowed to spread. I failed to notice it, which means they took silence as tacit approval — and if left unchecked, more of the same will follow.”

Li Chi said: “Master Yan needn’t be too hard on yourself. I hadn’t noticed it either until I came here.”

Yan Qingzhi asked: “Then it isn’t this matter that brought you to find me?”

Li Chi said: “I came to speak with you about Yuzhou.”

Yan Qingzhi said: “Has something changed in Yuzhou?”

Li Chi said: “I’m not yet certain, but I have a bad feeling. I sent Zhang Tang to Yuzhou, and I also sent Gui Yuanshu — though I didn’t tell Gui Yuanshu the full state of affairs there. My intention was for him to stir up the situation and draw the attention of those people away from Zhang Tang. But these past two days I’ve been turning it over, and I think it may still not be enough.”

The plan that Yan Qingzhi and Li Chi had worked out together: Li Chi would make a show of planning to go to Yuzhou early, with Yan Qingzhi raising objections to delay it — all to buy Zhang Tang as much time as possible.

If Li Chi had gone, Zhang Tang would have had to seek his approval at every turn, which would have severely limited Zhang Tang’s freedom to act.

Yan Qingzhi said: “We can send more people.”

Li Chi said: “I’ve been trying to think of who to send. I’ve gone back and forth without finding the right person, so I had no choice but to ask for your counsel.”

Yan Qingzhi turned the question over. Among the people currently in Jizhou, who was the right one to go? The right person meant someone who would not become a hindrance to Zhang Tang.

Every civil official, without exception, was wrong.

Because any one of them, seeing the way Zhang Tang operated, would never agree to it — and would become exactly the kind of obstruction Zhang Tang could not afford.

“Zhang Tang cannot be put in danger.”

Li Chi’s voice was calm, but the certainty behind his words was absolute.

“Now, and in the future — he cannot be put in danger. What he carries is something he carries on my behalf. So no matter what it takes, he must be kept safe.”

Li Chi turned to look at Yan Qingzhi: “So…”

Yan Qingzhi said: “So we cannot send a civil official. We should send a military man. Zhuang Wudi could go.”

Li Chi’s gaze drifted back to the river, and after a moment of silence: “Elder Brother Zhuang could go — but he is missing something…”

Yan Qingzhi thought more carefully, and then understood. He had been thinking too simply.

Zhuang Wudi was steady and cool-headed enough — if Li Chi told him to defer to Zhang Tang in all things no matter what happened, Zhuang Wudi could absolutely follow that instruction. But what he was missing was killing intent.

If the task was to open a reckoning in Yuzhou, it required someone colder, harder, and more fierce than Zhuang Wudi.

So Yan Qingzhi understood: Li Chi had likely already made a decision in his heart — he was simply struggling with it. The fact that he had summoned Yan Qingzhi here said as much.

Zhuang Wudi certainly had some assignment already, but Zhuang Wudi was not the right one here. Beyond Zhuang Wudi, who it should be, Yan Qingzhi still couldn’t guess — but it would have to be someone more ruthless.

If it truly went that way, Yuzhou would run even deeper in blood. And so, at that point, another person would also need to go — to be a steady hand.

“I can go.”

Yan Qingzhi said: “After spring comes, I will go first — then you follow.”

Originally, in the group’s discussions, Yan Qingzhi had been designated to remain in Jizhou. But many things were not fixed.

The day before, Li Chi had received a secret report from Yuzhou — and only then understood how deep the waters there truly ran.

Relatively speaking, whoever was left to hold Jizhou would manage without difficulty. But Yuzhou required a heavy hand and heavy measures.

It must be said that because Li Chi had been absent from Yuzhou for so long, and because Grand General Tang Pidi’s full attention was consumed by the war effort, and because nearly all the officials’ energy was likewise consumed by supporting that war effort — the officials in Yuzhou had formed a world of their own. Anyone brought over from Jizhou they would resist and obstruct.

If that person’s rank and standing were not high enough, that obstruction would be all the more severe.

Yan Qingzhi was different. He was Prince Ning’s teacher. He was the Jizhou Military Governor.

“Thank you, Master Yan.”

Li Chi exhaled at length: “They don’t know how Jizhou came to be what it is. Then let them see it for themselves.”

At the same time, Yuzhou.

On the official road, twelve thousand elite soldiers of the Ning Army were moving at a swift march.

Atop his horse, Zhuang Wudi drew out the letter Li Chi had personally written him and read it over once more, his expression grave.

The letter contained no instruction to return to Jizhou. Instead, it told him to make immediately for the south upon receiving it, and to link up with Tang Pidi.

Zhuang Wudi was no slow thinker — he simply preferred not to speak more than he had to.

All along the road, he had taken this letter out many times to read. Each reading left him feeling something was off.

Li Chi was telling him to join Tang Pidi. At first Zhuang Wudi had assumed it was because the Yuzhou front was under pressure. Later he had concluded it couldn’t be that simple.

He also carried another letter, not from Li Chi, though it had arrived together with Li Chi’s. That letter remained unopened. Li Chi’s letter had stated that once he met Tang Pidi, he was to hand this second letter directly to Tang Pidi.

So Zhuang Wudi suspected something had arisen in Yuzhou outside the sphere of the war. The war — Tang Pidi had never given Li Chi cause for worry there.

“Pass the word.”

Zhuang Wudi turned to his man and gave the order: “Tell Deputy Commander Gao Duo to come see me.”

Not long after, General Gao Duo came galloping up from the rear — he had been holding the back of the column, and the moment he heard the commander wanted him, he came at once.

When Gao Duo arrived, Zhuang Wudi said: “You take the army and keep marching. I’m going to break away with my personal guard unit and ride ahead to meet the Grand General first.”

Gao Duo asked: “Commander, has something happened?”

Zhuang Wudi shook his head: “I misjudged the situation. I should have had you lead the army south from the start, while I rode ahead to see the Grand General. I only hope I haven’t delayed anything important.”

He handed Gao Duo the commander’s token: “No delays, no disturbances to the people. Follow military law in all things.”

Gao Duo took the token and bowed: “Understood.”

Zhuang Wudi spurred his horse forward: “Personal guard unit — follow me!”

With that he shot out ahead, and three hundred-odd personal guards followed close behind.

One day earlier, Maoyang County.

Gui Yuanshu arrived outside Maoyang with his men and found himself at the edge of that withered cornfield. On the ground he saw the traces left behind.

He crouched and examined them carefully, brow creasing as he did.

“At least a thousand men’s worth of tracks.”

He looked to his men: “Which means…”

Zheng Shunshun said: “Which means Prince Ning didn’t only send us — or what we were sent here for isn’t the main effort.”

Gui Yuanshu gave a slow nod, and something that had been murky in his mind cleared.

“I understand now.”

He rose: “Prince Ning sent us here to stir up the situation — but to stir it up from outside the situation, by creating another situation of our own. He didn’t tell us plainly because… he couldn’t know himself how the one he’d sent before would handle things.”

Ding Man said: “Prince Ning sent someone to Yuzhou, but he doesn’t know how they’ll operate? That doesn’t quite make sense.”

Gui Yuanshu said: “It makes perfect sense… because the one Prince Ning sent here had no intention of reporting back to Prince Ning at all. Every decision — entirely his own… Prince Ning is about to let blood run in Yuzhou. Nothing short of that would call for a cut-loose maneuver like this.”

Ding Man said: “A cut-loose maneuver?”

Gui Yuanshu said: “Yes. Cut-loose. If every official sent out on a mission is a kite, then the line is naturally held in Prince Ning’s hand. But this time, Prince Ning has let the line go. Where this kite will fly, how it will fly — even Prince Ning doesn’t know.”

Zhang Youdong said: “But Prince Ning was worried this kite might not be able to hold against such a fierce wind.”

Gui Yuanshu smiled: “So we are the second kite… also a cut-loose kite.”

He exhaled slowly: “Now at last I understand what Prince Ning means. He told us nothing — which was itself telling us everything. Let go completely. No need to report, no need to ask permission. Do as you see fit. If there is a foul wind blowing through Yuzhou, then we and that other kite will split it apart.”

With this realization, Gui Yuanshu felt a sudden and absolute clarity.

“Knowing this — I suddenly feel a surge of something very satisfying.”

He looked to his men: “Back in Daxing, there was never once a time we got to act with both hands free. This time, let’s make it something worth seeing. You all should know why Prince Ning chose us specifically — the most important reason is that if the foul wind in Yuzhou has not sprung up overnight, then those people will have gathered detailed intelligence on everyone coming from Jizhou. But they know nothing about us.”

Ding Man said: “Whoever Prince Ning might have sent from Jizhou — those in Yuzhou would have made careful study of them in advance. But they don’t know we exist.”

Gui Yuanshu reached into his coat and drew out the demon-face mask Li Chi had personally placed in his hands. He finally understood why Li Chi had given him this thing.

“No one here knows our faces. No one knows our names. We are blank in the dossiers of Yuzhou’s foul winds. That makes us ghosts.”

Gui Yuanshu held the demon-face mask aloft: “Everyone — you each have one of these.”

He swung into the saddle: “Then let us use them to shake the foul winds of Yuzhou.”

Everyone answered in one voice.

Ding Man asked: “And this one?”

He gestured toward Yin Xinping — the county magistrate of Shanganxian.

Gui Yuanshu said: “He no longer matters. I was thinking too small before — that was why I thought he was an important witness. Now… go dig a hole.”

Yin Xinping heard these words and went white as chalk: “You said you’d take me to Jizhou!”

Gui Yuanshu said: “We’re ghosts now. You take the word of a ghost?”

He smiled: “Turns out everything before this was only prologue. The grand drama of Yuzhou is only just now beginning — and stepping onto the stage, it seems we’re the leads after all. How wonderfully interesting. Ha ha ha ha!”

One day later.

To the southeast of Maoyang County lay a small town. Into that town came a certain prefect, and he took up residence in the town’s only inn.

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