Early in the fourth month. Fengzhou.

Yu Jiuling came in from outside, glanced at Li Chi — who was busy reviewing the dossiers — and said, “Xu Ji is waiting outside requesting an audience. He’s been kneeling for more than half an hour now.”

Li Chi didn’t look up. He continued reading. “Let him kneel.”

Luo Jing smiled and said, “The fact that I was able to retake Fengzhou was partly due to Xu Ji’s scheming that brought down Yin Ke. He does have some credit to his name.”

Li Chi gave a sound of acknowledgment. He had finished with the dossiers — these were the records of everything Xu Ji had done during his tenure as Fengzhou’s prefect, and they were, by all accounts, impressive enough.

He set the dossiers aside and looked toward Luo Jing. “He does deserve credit for helping retake Fengzhou, that’s true. But if he hadn’t deliberately withheld his reports, Fengzhou wouldn’t have fallen in the first place. He thought he was clever — let the bandits grow fat before cutting them down — and instead managed to throw the whole region into chaos. At least he knows enough to kneel outside on his own. Let him kneel a while longer, then.”

Li Chi walked over to Luo Jing’s side and poured him a cup of tea. Luo Jing rose quickly to receive it.

Once Li Chi had sat down again, he said, “I’m thinking of transferring him back to Jizhou to serve as an official. His position as prefect here in Fengzhou is a full fourth rank. If I bring him back to Jizhou — and I don’t intend to give him the post of military governor — Jizhou is a major territory, and whoever oversees all its affairs can’t remain at full fourth rank. A casual promotion would put him at full third rank.”

Luo Jing understood. He smiled and said, “You can’t have those below you thinking that Xu Ji made a mistake and received not punishment but reward.”

Li Chi gave a sound of agreement.

“He’s young, so I can allow him to make mistakes. But not an endless string of them. An error this serious — I can overlook it once and let it go, but the optics still need to look bad for him. People need to see him squirm a little.”

Luo Jing felt something stir in his chest. As he looked at Li Chi, it suddenly struck him — it had been nearly two years since they’d last seen each other, and now, seeing him again, the aura of reverence that surrounded Li Chi had grown heavier than ever.

Was this what they called the bearing of a sovereign?

Li Chi said, almost carelessly, “If no one from Fengzhou comes to plead on Xu Ji’s behalf, then let him keep kneeling.”

Luo Jing nodded, then glanced meaningfully at Yu Jiuling. Yu Jiuling was sharp enough — he caught on instantly and gave Luo Jing a slight dip of his head in acknowledgment.

Luo Jing’s meaning was this: Prince Ning’s words had already implied that Xu Ji needed a way out. What was needed now was for local gentry and village elders to come forward and intercede on his behalf. But if no one came forward, then not only would Xu Ji have no way out — neither would Li Chi.

Yu Jiuling made a show of making idle conversation for a few moments, then excused himself and left. Li Chi watched him go and knew perfectly well what he was off to do.

“Still no word from Gui Yuanshu?”

Li Chi asked.

Zhang Tang bowed and said, “My lord, Administrator Gui has been tracking the remnants of Yin Ke’s forces eastward. He appears to be intent on rooting out every last one of Yin Ke’s associates.”

Li Chi turned back to Luo Jing. “Don’t return to the front lines yet. Take your men and sweep through Dengzhou and Fengzhou again — thoroughly. Don’t worry about the body count.”

Luo Jing understood exactly what Li Chi meant.

Yuzhou was vast — in terms of territory, only slightly smaller than Jizhou — and it was far more than just Dengzhou and Fengzhou. If these two places were dealt with harshly enough, the other regions would draw in their necks.

So Luo Jing rose and clasped his fists. “I’ll go organize the troops now. Once supplies are ready, we’ll move out.”

Li Chi smiled. “There’s no rush. Come out with me tomorrow. We’ll find a good restaurant and have a proper talk.”

Luo Jing smiled. “Then tomorrow I shall leave the house without a single coin.”

Li Chi said, “Fine, then the plan is cancelled.”

Luo Jing burst out laughing.

Li Chi said, “There’s something I’d like to say to you.”

Luo Jing replied, “Whatever it is, my lord, just give the order.”

Li Chi said, “As for the suppression of the rebellion — Xu Ji’s merits and faults cancel each other out, so we’ll set his case aside for now. But you and Zhang Tang share the top credit for wiping out the rebel army. So I intend to promote you to Senior Second Rank General — in the military, that puts you just below Old Tang. The announcement hasn’t gone out yet. I wanted to discuss it with you first, see whether you think it’s fitting.”

Luo Jing smiled. “What’s there to discuss? Give the reward — just give it.”

Li Chi shook his head with a smile. “Not even a little modesty?”

Luo Jing clasped his fists again, bowing. “Many thanks, my lord.”

Then he sat back down. “I’d better offer thanks quickly, before you change your mind.”

Li Chi smiled. “I had something else in mind besides the promotion, actually. But since you gave thanks so quickly, I suppose you’ve saved me the extra reward.”

Luo Jing: “…”

Li Chi turned to Zhang Tang. “As of today, you are Deputy Chief Tingwei of the Tingwei Army — equal in rank to Elder Ye within the Tingwei Army.”

Zhang Tang’s expression shifted. He rose quickly. “Thank you, my lord, but…”

Li Chi said, “No buts. What I give, you take. What I don’t give, you can’t demand. And another thing — stop carrying around that attitude of someone ready to die at any moment. Do you think dying is really that easy?”

Zhang Tang felt a jolt in his chest, followed by a warmth that spread through him.

Li Chi looked at Zhang Tang and said, “Don’t let your enemies be the ones to finish you off. Then no one will be able to finish you off. I mean it.”

Zhang Tang dropped to his knees with a thud. “Thank you for your great kindness, my lord!”

Li Chi reached out and pulled Zhang Tang to his feet, giving him a pat on the shoulder. “Go change your clothes. I brought the Deputy Chief Tingwei’s court uniform — it’s just outside.”

Outside the study door, a guard stood holding a tray in both hands, upon which sat a neatly folded Deputy Chief Tingwei’s court uniform.

About an hour later, a fair number of Fengzhou’s gentry and village elders came requesting an audience with Prince Ning, imploring him to pardon Fengzhou’s prefect Xu Ji.

Li Chi received them in the prefectural offices and spoke with them for a full hour — while Xu Ji knelt outside for another hour on top of that.

When the gentry and elders had finally been seen off, Li Chi issued an immediate order: strip Xu Ji of his prefectural official’s robes and send him home to reflect on his conduct.

Upon hearing this, Xu Ji felt not the slightest trace of despondency. On the contrary, he let out a long, slow breath of relief.

In the study of the prefectural offices.

Li Chi sat there, fingers tapping lightly on the tabletop — soft but steady, with a rhythm all their own. He was thinking. Thinking about one particular person.

Since arriving in Fengzhou, he had seen everyone. Everyone except Cao Lie.

He was mulling over how to see him, and what to say when he did.

Come to think of it… there was something just a touch awkward about it.

Just then, a guard outside announced, “My lord, Young Master Cao Lie requests an audience. He is waiting at the outer gate.”

Li Chi sat where he was, exhaled heavily, then rose to his feet. “No need to escort him in. I’ll go out to meet him.”

When Li Chi reached the front entrance of the prefectural offices, he found Cao Lie utterly transformed — so much so that he was actually crouching by the side of the road, watching ants.

Such a childish pastime. In years past, Cao Lie — the young lord of the Cao family — would never have been caught doing such a thing.

He had been so proud. Like the most beautiful peacock in all the world, neck always stretched tall, head always held high.

Li Chi walked over and crouched down beside him, only then noticing that two colonies of ants were locked in battle — one red, one black.

“Shall we bet?”

Cao Lie turned to look at Li Chi. “Which side do you think wins?”

Li Chi asked, “What are we betting?”

Cao Lie said, “If you win, there’s a decent roast meat place at the end of the street — turn left at the corner — and you’ll pay. If I win, there’s a hot pot place at the end of the street — turn right at the corner — and you’ll pay.”

Li Chi sighed. “Have you fallen this far?”

Cao Lie sighed back. “Who are you asking?”

Li Chi let out a short laugh, looking just a touch sheepish.

“And if we don’t bet?”

Li Chi asked.

Cao Lie said, “I hear that when you led your forces south and passed through Liaoyang City, you had over a hundred cartloads of gold and silver hauled out.”

Li Chi said, “Your family’s.”

Cao Lie replied, “Thank you for the reminder.”

Li Chi said, “I’ll pay, then…”

The two of them strolled down the main street together. At the corner, left was roast meat, right was hot pot.

Li Chi said, “Rock, paper, scissors?”

Cao Lie shook his head. “Only children make choices.”

Li Chi narrowed his eyes. “I have the vague feeling you’re bluffing.”

Cao Lie turned to Li Chi and spoke with what seemed like perfect sincerity: “I know that after you eat hot pot, you could still manage roast meat on top of it, because your stomach is that generous… your stomach, I mean… and so is mine.”

After taking in that sentence, Li Chi slowly exhaled. “Just tell me what you want. Otherwise I’ll feel a little embarrassed about myself.”

Cao Lie pointed in the direction of the hot pot restaurant. “Eat first, talk later.”

The two of them walked inside. Perhaps because it was not yet the usual hour for meals, there were no other customers in the shop.

They sat down, and Cao Lie asked Li Chi, “What kind of broth do you want?”

Li Chi said, “Can you eat spicy food?”

Cao Lie shook his head. “I can’t, but I’d like to try.”

Li Chi said, “Then we’ll get the divided pot.”

Cao Lie smiled. He was fine with whatever Li Chi ordered — had Li Chi gone for full spicy, he would have eaten full spicy — and yet Li Chi still ordered the divided pot. He glanced at a young server. “What fresh vegetables do you have today?”

Li Chi said, “What do you need vegetables for?”

Cao Lie said, “You order the meat, I’ll order the vegetables.”

Li Chi shook his head. “You order meat too. I’ll order meat. We eat meat together.”

Cao Lie paused, then smiled again, giving a nod. “All right then. Meat together.”

The two of them ordered a tremendous quantity of meat — so much that the server began to wonder if they were planning to skip out on the bill. At that volume, even six grown men would struggle to finish it.

Li Chi took a silver ingot worth ten taels from his sleeve and handed it to the server. “Come back to me when it’s time to settle up, if this isn’t enough.”

The server thought to himself — how could ten taels possibly not be enough? That’s a fortune — and broke into a smile, reassuring him immediately, “It’s more than enough, more than enough. Ten taels and you can eat as much as you like.”

Li Chi said, “Tell me that again in a little while.”

Cao Lie asked, “What’s the most expensive wine you have?”

After hearing the server’s answer, Cao Lie did some mental arithmetic and concluded that even so, they couldn’t spend the full ten taels. He asked the server, “Based on what we’ve ordered so far, roughly how much is left?”

The server did a rough calculation, then replied, “There’s enough left for a large crock of our finest wine — but that crock holds ten jin, and the two of you really wouldn’t be able to finish it.”

Cao Lie said, “Then bring the crock.”

The server cautioned, “Honestly, the two of you really won’t be able to drink it.”

Cao Lie said, “We’ll water the flowers with it.”

Server: “…”

Li Chi laughed. “You’re spending my money with such enthusiasm just because I’m the one paying?”

Cao Lie shot him a sideways glance. “Then spend my money with equal enthusiasm.”

The two looked at each other, then both burst out laughing.

They had been eating for about half an hour when Cao Lie patted his stomach — full. He looked at Li Chi and said, “Now it’s time to ask you for something.”

Li Chi said, “Go ahead.”

Cao Lie said, “An official position — I won’t ask for that. With my background, if I went into government service, I’d want it, and you’d be willing to give it, but other people would have no shortage of ugly things to say about it. I hate being spoken ill of more than anything — openly or behind my back. So I’ll just ask for one thing, one sentence…”

He looked at Li Chi. “I want to play in the jianghu.”

Li Chi said, “Just that one sentence?”

Cao Lie nodded. “Just that.”

Li Chi said, “That’s not enough… I’ll add a sentence. The jianghu — play in it however you like.”

Cao Lie narrowed his eyes. “You’re not afraid I’ll secretly work against you?”

Li Chi said, “No.”

Cao Lie asked, “Why not?”

Li Chi said, “Because if you did away with me… who in this world would you still find interesting?”

Cao Lie let out a long breath, cast a sidelong glance at Li Chi, and said, “The way you say it, it sounds like you’re the one being played.”

Li Chi said, “This one… why argue about it.”

Cao Lie: “Hmph!”

—