The proprietor of the noodle shop had come from the Western Frontier. He said he was from Xizhou—back in his hometown, the food people loved most was noodles: all kinds, all delicious.

Over twenty years ago, his family had been traveling for trade and passed through Jizhou when disaster struck. His father fell gravely ill and never recovered enough to make the journey home. His mother stayed behind with him and his younger sister and settled in Jizhou City.

His mother said: his father was buried here, so they couldn’t leave him without anyone to burn offerings each year. And people, she said, are always prone to finding excuses.

Li Diudiu listened to the proprietor’s idle talk and couldn’t help asking, “What does that have to do with making excuses?”

The proprietor drew on his pipe and exhaled a thick cloud of smoke. His accent still carried a faint trace of Xizhou, but it came across as warm and familiar.

“Young master, just think about it.”

The proprietor said, “If we’d gone all the way back home, things would have been more comfortable there—we had a business waiting. But the first year, you might make the long journey back to pay respects at my father’s grave. The second year, the third year, the fourth year—what then?”

He looked at Li Diudiu. “The round trip would take half a year. Sooner or later it would start to feel like too much trouble—and then it would just be forgotten. That’s when my mother said: the three of us will make our home in Jizhou. I don’t care whether you two will go back to Xizhou in the future—but when my time comes, I want to be buried beside your father.”

The proprietor smiled—no sadness in it. More than twenty years had passed; the grief had long since faded.

He said, his tone calm and even, “Ten years ago my mother passed. I buried her beside my father as she had wished. Those two old ones are finally back together. I still remember when we were small—they were shameless, always flirting and teasing each other, heh heh……”

“My mother said she’d leave us to it—we could go back to Xizhou if we wanted. But she was afraid that if she left, my father would be lonely. And if she was afraid of that, what about me? Was I not afraid they’d both be lonely if we left?”

The proprietor knocked his pipe against the floor, rose, and said, “I’ll go bring out your noodles—they should be ready.”

His son and daughter-in-law were in the kitchen now. More than twenty years ago, when their mother had brought just the two children and stayed in Jizhou, they hadn’t known how to do anything in the way of business—but the noodles from back home were so good, why not make a living from them?

Who would have guessed: that one bowl of noodles ended up sustaining the whole family.

Over twenty years later, the four busiest noodle shops in Jizhou City—two of them had been passed down from him, and the other two were run by his sister, who had married into Jizhou City long ago. The siblings had kept close all these years.

The proprietor had a son and a daughter himself. His son had already taken over this shop, but though he could have spent his days in ease, he didn’t want to. Every day he just walked back and forth between the shops his son and his son-in-law managed, repeating the same words to each of them.

*Remember—the people of Jizhou fed our family. Every bowl we serve, not a single noodle may be missing, and not a single ingredient may be skimped.*

They say the people of Dachu’s Western Frontier are fierce, but they are also honest and steadfast. Once they’ve set their mind on a person or a cause, it tends to be fixed and unshakable.

When Li Diudiu said he wanted meat—that he wanted to eat meat—the proprietor didn’t hesitate for a second: he had his son ladle two generous scoops of braised pork that would normally go into the knife-shaved noodles, heaped so high it was mounded above the rim of the bowl.

Li Diudiu and Daoist Changmei thanked the proprietor. He laughed and said—why thank him? The meat wasn’t free.

Daoist Changmei looked at the three large bowls of noodles set before Li Diudiu and suddenly felt a slight sting behind his nose.

He let out a sigh and said, “All the years you spent following me, I never knew you could eat this much. I thought half a flatbread was enough to fill that little belly of yours.”

Li Diudiu buried his face in the noodles, his cheeks puffed out, his answer coming out garbled.

“My appetite was small back then—it only got big after we came to Jizhou.”

His master made a dismissive sound. Neither of them wanted to say anything sad today, so he lowered his head and ate as well. The two of them, old and young, slurped away side by side.

Just as the two of them had their heads bent down over their noodles, someone came to a stop beside Li Diudiu. Li Diudiu instinctively looked up—and found Yan Qingzhi looking down at him. Li Diudiu blinked in surprise.

Teacher Yan set what he’d been carrying on the table. He looked somewhat tired, and there was still sweat on his forehead.

“Searched four noodle shops before I found you two.”

Teacher Yan placed the things on the table and said, “I bought you a new set of clothes.”

Then he pulled up a stool and sat down, looking over at Daoist Changmei. “I got one for you too. And shoes.”

Both master and student froze. The two of them—old man, young boy—both with mouths still full of noodles, sitting there rigid as statues, not moving.

Yan Qingzhi called back over his shoulder to the proprietor, “One bowl of noodles, same as what they’re having. With meat.”

Li Diudiu quickly pushed the two untouched bowls toward Yan Qingzhi and said, “Teacher—these two bowls haven’t been touched yet. Have these first—no need to wait.”

Teacher Yan smiled and said, “These are your longevity noodles. Eat them yourself. All of them. Live to a hundred.”

Those words—so familiar—it was as though something had landed precisely on Li Diudiu’s heart, and his nose stung, and the corners of his eyes went faintly wet.

The proprietor came sauntering over, smiled a greeting, and then asked, “Same kind of noodles? How many bowls?”

Yan Qingzhi said, “One bowl.”

The proprietor said, “But aren’t there some already here? Go ahead and start on those—I’ll go put new ones on to cook. Won’t hold you up.”

Yan Qingzhi shook his head. “I’m not eating his. Today is his birthday—these are his longevity noodles.”

The proprietor laughed. “Right then, I’ll have the kitchen hurry. Young master—just look at you, what blessed fortune. Most people get one bowl of longevity noodles for one hundred years of long life. Three bowls at once—at least three hundred years for you.”

The proprietor had a way with words. Li Diudiu gave a small, pleased laugh.

Yan Qingzhi said, “With that one bowl of yours included—if he really goes all out, who knows, maybe seven hundred years……”

The proprietor said, “Let’s not get carried away—a young man his size, three bowls would be the absolute limit. Seven bowls would be out of the question. If he can finish five, I’ll treat them—and I mean that.”

In that instant, the eyes of Li Diudiu, Daoist Changmei, and Teacher Yan all lit up at once.

Li Diudiu raised his head and said, with great sincerity, “In that case—four more bowls, please……”

Daoist Changmei: “Actually……I think I could manage one more.”

Yan Qingzhi said, “I’ll add one more too.”

The proprietor had been doing business for so many years and had never once misjudged a customer—he prided himself on that. So why did he have the vague, creeping sense he might be stepping into a trap?

Still, a Xizhou man’s word was his bond. He turned and called to his son to put several more bowls on.

Just as the noodles were nearly ready, Xiahou Zuo arrived in a rush, bringing along Ruan Chen and a few others. He spotted Li Diudiu and the rest of them the moment he walked in, along with the table full of bowls.

“Finally found you.”

Xiahou Zuo pointed to the table beside them. “Pull that one over—let’s combine them.”

Ruan Chen and Ruan Mu pushed the table over and set it beside Li Diudiu’s, and Xiahou Zuo looked at the noodles on the table, wiped the corner of his mouth and said, “Actually pretty hungry. Boss—same as this, two bowls each for the five of us.”

Yan Qingzhi said, “Didn’t you say you weren’t supposed to eat?”

Xiahou Zuo said, “Teacher Yan, that question……I can’t really explain it either.”

Apart from Li Diudiu’s group, there had been no other customers—the main dining hour had long since passed. Xiahou Zuo had brought four people in, and the room suddenly felt lively.

Before the noodles had even arrived, a large group of people appeared outside—all dressed in blue, twenty or thirty of them.

Xiahou Zuo glanced back, then laughed. “Why are you standing out there? Come in, everyone—come eat noodles.”

The whole large group of men in blue poured in and filled the noodle shop to capacity, each of them ordering two bowls just the same—oil-splashed noodles with meat.

Good thing the shop had plenty of ingredients stocked, or it wouldn’t have been nearly enough.

As the bowls arrived one by one, Xiahou Zuo looked over at the proprietor and asked, “Do you have wine?”

The proprietor quickly said yes. Seeing so many men in blue, he had already guessed who these people were, and didn’t dare be remiss.

“Not much—just one bowl each.”

Xiahou Zuo said, “Tonight, everyone drinks a bowl.”

The proprietor’s son came out to help, carrying an earthen wine jug, filling one bowl at a time. When everyone had a full bowl before them, Xiahou Zuo stood up and announced in a loud voice:

“A toast to my brother Li Chi’s birthday!”

All the men in blue rose to their feet as one, bowls raised in a uniform gesture.

“To brother Li Chi’s birthday!”

Xiahou Zuo called out, “Down it goes!”

“Down!”

More than thirty men, in one motion, tipped back their bowls and drank.

Xiahou Zuo wiped the corner of his mouth, looked at Li Chi, and said, “This time next year I’ll likely be with the northern frontier army—I won’t be able to celebrate your birthday with you. But look……”

He gestured toward the men in blue. “These brothers will be here—every single one of them. Learn their faces—each of them. Come on!”

He called out, “Tell my brother your names!”

One by one the men stood and called out their names. Some were from Jizhou, some from Youzhou, some from Daizhou, some from Xinzhou. Every one of them looked at Li Chi—and not one of them looked at him as if he were merely a child.

“I!”

Li Chi had not had a chance to drink that bowl yet. Now he raised it and shouted, “Jizhou—Li Chi!”

One bowl, drunk in a single draft.

Xiahou Zuo laughed heartily and said, “If you can’t remember all their names, that’s fine—just remember that they are all brothers. Brotherhood in the ranks of the Blue-Clad isn’t the way of street gangs. To call someone brother here means: through life and death, together.”

Yan Qingzhi had initially been displeased when Xiahou Zuo brought so many men of the Blue-Clad to see Li Diudiu—he didn’t want Li Diudiu getting too close to people from the underworld. If he hadn’t known that Xiahou Zuo truly regarded Li Chi as a brother, he would still have advised Li Chi to keep his distance.

But in that very moment, Yan Qingzhi suddenly understood: *this* was the birthday gift Xiahou Zuo was giving Li Chi.

Next year Xiahou Zuo would be leaving Jizhou City. These brothers were what Xiahou Zuo was leaving behind to protect Li Chi. Yan Qingzhi knew Xiahou Zuo was set on going to the northern frontier—and he would not take a single one of these men with him, all so they could stay in Jizhou and be Li Chi’s support and backing.

He had just arrived at this realization when Xiahou Zuo suddenly turned and bowed deeply toward Li Chi.

“I’m introducing my brothers to you, not only so you can all know each other and look out for one another—there is also something I need to entrust to you.”

Seeing that Xiahou Zuo was solemn, Li Chi quickly rose as well. “Speak.”

Xiahou Zuo said, “I joined the Blue-Clad in the first place because of my mother. She is proud and strong-willed, and would not enter the Prince’s household. I haven’t yet dared to tell her I’m going to the northern frontier, and I have no intention of telling her. After I leave Jizhou City, with no one at her side, certain bastards will surely come and make trouble for her. Li Chi……”

Xiahou Zuo clasped his hands in a formal salute. “Can you help me protect her?”

Li Chi shouted aloud, “I can!”

More than thirty Blue-Clad brothers shouted as one, “We can!”

Even Yan Qingzhi and Daoist Changmei, not quite knowing why, both quietly said along with everyone else……

*We can.*

—