Denglan County.

Five days earlier, the people posing as Tingwei Army forces had burned down the county treasury and granary here, and killed many people.

Roughly ten or so li from the county seat, in a town nearby, the county magistrate, the county administrator, and the local ninth-rank official had been struck down in the midst of several hundred men protecting them.

The killer had called himself the Number Four Under Heaven.

The town was called Jiulixiang — Nine-Li Fragrance — famous far and wide for its fine wines. Yet now that such a terrible incident had occurred, even buyers from neighboring prefectures and counties no longer dared to come.

People said those fiends moved like ghosts, appearing and vanishing without trace — one could never guess where they might turn up next. A person walking the open road might lose their life at any moment; even a merchant convoy of several dozen men could be wiped out in an instant, clean as a whistle.

In former days, buyers came to Jiulixiang for wine in a constant stream, and in great numbers. These past few days, the visitors could be counted on one hand.

An elderly man with a kindly face stood at the roadside sighing, his expression burdened with heavy thoughts.

He was burning paper offerings at the roadside — mourning the townspeople who had died just a few days ago, and their parent officials.

A carriage pulled to a stop at the village entrance. Driving it was a young page boy of perhaps fifteen or sixteen, fine-featured and bright-eyed.

The page boy stepped down and bowed politely with both hands, addressing the man courteously: “Grandfather, is this the town of Jiulixiang?”

The old man gave a sound of acknowledgment. “It is. What brings you?”

The page boy explained they were just passing through — he had heard the wine here was famous far and wide, so his master wished to taste some.

The old man advised: “Quite a few people have come from Yuzhou City to investigate the case lately — best not come around if you’re outsiders. Nothing good to see here. Move along.”

The page boy gave a sound of acknowledgment, yet did not heed the warning. He turned back to the carriage, gave a flick of the reins, and the old horse began to plod forward.

The carriage entered the town. Foot traffic was sparse, though there were some outsiders who had come to collect wine orders — they just looked very rushed, as though they couldn’t wait to load their carts and leave.

A company of the Prince of Ning’s main soldiers was stationed in the town — just those visible on patrol along the main street numbered over a hundred, and there were surely more in places one couldn’t see.

The bearing of main-force soldiers was genuinely commanding.

The carriage drew to a halt outside a wine shop. The person who stepped down was Master Wu.

He pushed inside. A young attendant spotted him and hurried over, politely asking whether he was dining or purchasing.

Master Wu smiled and said, “A jin of wine, and whatever dishes are on hand.”

The attendant acknowledged and turned to prepare the order.

The page boy stood at the doorway watching. A wine-buying merchant convoy came past and also stopped outside the shop.

By now it was nearly noon — they too were likely hoping to eat lunch before continuing their journey.

The proprietor looked to be around forty, with a long beard. He wore plain cloth clothing that wasn’t worth much, but was washed spotlessly clean, with few creases.

While directing his attendant to look after the horses and carts, he stepped inside the wine shop.

The proprietor glanced at the page boy and said, “No wine — just food, enough for about ten people. If you can make it quickly, I’d be grateful.”

The page boy shook his head. “This gentleman, we’re also here to eat.”

The proprietor immediately apologized; the page boy waved it off. Master Wu’s gaze lingered on this man for a few extra moments.

The man found a seat at random and sat down, then let out a long, slow breath.

Master Wu asked him, “Friend, where have you come from?”

The proprietor looked toward Master Wu and quickly returned a bow. “I’ve come from Dingyuan County — that’s roughly two hundred li from here.”

Master Wu asked, “What is your surname?”

The man smiled. “Nothing so grand — it’s a compound surname: Zhuge.”

Master Wu gestured an invitation. “Why not join me? Drinking alone gets rather dull.”

The man glanced at the page boy. The page boy shook his head. “My master says I’m still too young to drink.”

The man laughed. “Not so young — I had my first drink at twelve and got blind drunk, and my father beat my backside till it bloomed. While the beating was going on I was still vomiting, and when my father tired from hitting me, he asked me if I’d drink again — I vomited right in his face, and then he kept right on hitting.”

Master Wu laughed along.

Master Wu asked, “This town of Jiulixiang has suffered a terrible incident. I heard that your Dingyuan County also had a major case?”

“Yes.” The Zhuge-surnamed wine merchant let out a sigh. “Many people died. Those animals deserve the worst ends imaginable.”

Master Wu asked, “And do you know where those animals came from?”

The merchant replied, “Who else could it be — Yang Xuanji sent them, of course. We common people may not know much, but we’re not stupid.”

Master Wu joined him in a sigh. He asked, “Then you still dare come out?”

The merchant said, “What choice do I have? Business has to go on. Otherwise, what do my family eat? What do my workers eat?”

Master Wu said, “The world is hard on people.”

The merchant nodded. “The world is indeed hard on people — scurrying and struggling, frantically rushing about, all for a few scraps of silver…”

He looked at Master Wu. “But you, sir — I see you’re not the sort to bow for a few scraps of silver. What is your occupation?”

Master Wu said, “Just an unoccupied wanderer.”

The merchant sighed. “Who in this world doesn’t wish to be an unoccupied wanderer?”

He bowed to Master Wu, then rose and returned to his own table, calling his workers over to eat.

They ate quickly; after settling the bill, they all departed. As the merchant was leaving, he turned at the door to look back at Master Wu and bowed his fists. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

Master Wu returned the bow. “Perhaps we’ll meet again.”

The page boy asked Master Wu, “Why did you chat with them?”

Master Wu smiled and asked, “What of it, that I chatted with them?”

The page boy said, “When Master is not handling official business, other than speaking with Madam, when has Master ever bothered with people?”

In those words, there were two or three parts of a small grievance.

Master Wu glanced at the jade pendant on the page boy’s belt, then continued drinking his wine without further comment.

The merchant convoy left the town, visibly hurried.

After traveling roughly ten or so li, the merchant turned to look back, then slowly exhaled.

“That man… is not an ordinary person.”

He muttered to himself.

One of the men disguised as an attendant asked him, “Master Zhuge, since you had already seen he was not ordinary, why did you still go over and chat with him for a while?”

This merchant was none other than Zhuge Jingzhan.

He smiled. “If I hadn’t gone over to chat with him for a while, how would he have confirmed that we are not ordinary people?”

The man disguised as an attendant was Fu Baiyu — one of the Heaven-Ordained Four Champions.

This time Zhuge Jingzhan had come out to Yuzhou with three of the Four Champions at his side.

If possible, he would have brought all four — he was also afraid of death, and he also knew that the Prince of Ning had many remarkable talents around him.

The world had too many heroes and outstanding figures. The people around the Prince of Ning were all exceptional — were the people under Yang Xuanji truly so full of ordinary stock by comparison?

Looking at things from a different angle — if you genuinely understood Yang Xuanji and kept your gaze on his side — one would be forced to admit that in every respect, the caliber of the people under him was in no way inferior to those under the Prince of Ning Li Chi.

In fact, he might have even more talent.

To give an example: if someone of considerable skill and learning were choosing whom to serve, deciding between the Prince of Ning Li Chi and the Heaven-Ordained King Yang Xuanji — any person with sense would choose the latter.

One was of common origins, the other of imperial bloodline. One had enlisted in the Yanshan garrison, the other had countless men seeking to serve him.

That choice was too easy to make. Put differently — never mind talented people seeking their futures; even given equal conditions, ordinary commoners would choose Yang Xuanji.

Setting aside Yuzhou and Jizhou, setting aside Shu Province and Jing Province — speak only of Li Chi and Yang Xuanji arriving simultaneously in Jing Province with their armies.

Jing Province’s commoners would certainly welcome Yang Xuanji more warmly, and would feel that Yang Xuanji was the right and proper one.

Would a man of such profound foundations lack for men of true ability?

Fu Baiyu thought for a moment, then asked: “Did Master see, when that man’s carriage entered the Jiulixiang town, it passed through without being stopped for inspection — and so you reasoned he must be one of the Prince of Ning’s people?”

Zhuge Jingzhan nodded. “That was one reason. The other was… the jade pendant on that page boy’s belt was quite valuable — not something a common household would own.”

Fu Baiyu asked, “Master Zhuge, you deliberately went to chat with him for a while — was that to draw him into following us?”

Zhuge Jingzhan said, “If I were him, I would certainly follow.”

Fu Baiyu asked again, “Shall we slow down?”

Zhuge Jingzhan smiled. “What’s the point?”

Fu Baiyu asked, “Are we really going to Dingyuan County?”

Zhuge Jingzhan shook his head. “The Number Four Under Heaven is at Gang County — we happen to be passing through.”

Fu Baiyu said nothing further, but inwardly gave a cold snort — he could naturally tell what Zhuge Jingzhan meant: that he alone was not enough to handle what lay ahead.

Just then, at a road junction up ahead, a group of people emerged from a stand of trees and extended their hands, signaling the convoy to halt.

Fu Baiyu looked toward Zhuge Jingzhan, and found himself unable to help but admire this man’s foresight.

—

Back in the town of Jiulixiang.

Master Wu was still drinking his wine — he had not followed.

He felt no need to. He was certain that as long as he didn’t give chase, those people would come back to find him.

A man in brocade clothing stepped quickly into the wine shop, looked at Master Wu, apparently recognized him, and immediately bowed in salute: “My lord.”

Master Wu looked up at him. “Whose man are you?”

The man answered: “I serve under Tingwei Army Senior Officer Dou Hongtu. Senior Officer Dou has just sent word that he intends to intercept that merchant convoy up ahead.”

Master Wu’s brow lifted. “He should not have gone.”

Among the Tingwei Army’s senior officers, those who stayed at Li Chi’s side were the four youngest — Fang Xidao, Yu Hongyi, and the others.

But the Tingwei Army had more senior officers than just those few. Beyond them, beyond Zhang Tang, there were four more senior officers.

Those elevated to the rank of senior officer were, in both martial ability and every other regard, equally carefully selected.

When Gao Xining had first established the Tingwei Army, these four officers had already shouldered heavy responsibilities — before Fang Xidao and the others were promoted, the Tingwei Army’s assigned missions had all been carried out by these four.

Dou Hongtu was one of the original four senior officers. In both martial skill and strategic intelligence, he was a superlative choice.

Master Wu asked, “How many men did your senior officer take?”

The man shook his head. “I don’t know. Only that Senior Officer Dou said, the townspeople here are already terrified enough, so he didn’t want to make his move within the town.”

Then he noticed that while Master Wu was still speaking, Master Wu was already outside the wine shop — a shock.

The Tingwei Army man called after him: “My lord, if you’re going, I have a fine warhorse here.”

Master Wu said, “Calculate the distance — ten or so li. A horse won’t be as fast as I am.”

The man wanted to say something more, but found that Master Wu had already nearly vanished from sight — in the far distance, only a dark blur remained.

He turned to look at the page boy. The page boy said, “However fine your horse is, it truly is no faster than my master over fifty li or less. Within fifty li, no horse will do.”

He stretched out a hand. “But you may give me a horse — because I’m no faster than the horse.”

The Tingwei man was taken aback, and looked the page boy up and down. “You’d better stay here — it’s safer.”

The page boy sighed. “Another one who underestimates me.”

He stepped over, lifted one of the carriage shafts with one hand, and whistled to the old draft horse — the horse promptly slipped free of its harness.

The page boy leapt onto the horse’s back, called out that he was going after Master Wu, and the old horse suddenly surged forward at a speed that gave the Tingwei man quite a fright.

As he galloped, the page boy said, “I meant to let you rest a while — but that man looked down on me and wouldn’t lend me a horse.”

—