Gui Yuanshu had carried many different tokens on him, but he had never imagined one of them would actually save his life.

Zheng Shunshun helped Gui Yuanshu to his feet. Gui Yuanshu’s complexion was pale — and so was Zheng Shunshun’s. In truth, everyone’s complexion was pale, their hearts still trembling with fear.

“Why is it…”

Gui Yuanshu looked toward Zheng Shunshun and the others. “That the peerless masters of the realm are none of them on our side.”

Zheng Shunshun thought for quite a long while before managing a weak attempt at consolation. “My lord — our side has them too. They just didn’t come.”

Gui Yuanshu said, “You might as well just say: our side has them too, but they’re not us.”

Zhao Shanying said, “My lord, there’s no shame in that.”

Gui Yuanshu said, “I must reflect on myself… if I hadn’t wasted all that time, I shouldn’t have fallen this far behind, surely.”

Zhao Shanying knew perfectly well how impressive their lord had been in his younger days — at least, their lord was always saying so.

The lord had said that back in their time at Chongwen Academy, their brotherhood was known as the Five Paragons of Chongwen, and the most formidable fighter among them was none other than himself — though in truth he and Wei Chiguang had always been neck and neck. He simply refused to admit it.

Wei Chiguang was not only a fighter, but also a born military genius. His most celebrated achievement was a battle from the Chongwen Academy’s strategic war exercises — a six-hour engagement.

Wei Chiguang against twelve.

Facing him were twelve gifted young talents from Chongwen Academy, twelve against one. Wei Chiguang’s single team, using the terrain in a sandtable simulation to maneuver and divide, striking each opponent in turn — six hours, and all twelve were defeated.

When that exercise concluded, nine of the twelve on the opposing side had collapsed from exhaustion. The remaining three were in no better color.

It was this single contest that left Yang Jing — who had been studying at Chongwen Academy under a concealed identity — completely stunned.

The young prince Yang Jing, still only a prince at the time, vowed then and there that when the time came, he would surely make use of this man.

He even said that a person like Wei Chiguang was the hope of Dachu’s future revival.

Yang Jing had also assumed that when he became Emperor he would be able to act freely on his convictions — use whoever he wished, however he wished — yet once he had become Emperor, he understood just how naïve his former self had been.

By the time he finally did manage to employ Wei Chiguang, he could only laugh ruefully at himself: that former self had been the truly unspoiled one.

Zheng Shunshun looked at the token in Gui Yuanshu’s hand. “My lord, keep that safe. It may come in useful when we reach Daxing City.”

What Gui Yuanshu found himself thinking about was something else entirely — how vast the Mountain River Seal’s influence must once have been, to have gathered a group of peerless masters like these.

He knew that Little Zhang Zhenren had once devised a tier system for martial practitioners, and within that system, Prince Ning’s side actually had a considerable number of people who could rank among first-tier masters.

That is to say — this first tier was a height that ninety-nine percent of all people who ever trained in martial arts would never be able to reach.

Elder Ye, Master Wu, Old Zhang Zhenren in his younger days, that mysterious and elusive Master Shen, and Master Wu’s wife, Su Xiaoshu — all of them belonged there.

After the battle of Yuzhou City, Prince Ning had broken through one constraint, and under Master Fang’s guidance had leaped from the lower range of the first tier into the middle range.

Prince Ning was still young. Perhaps before long, he would greet his next breakthrough and claim his place among the true first-tier masters.

Gui Yuanshu thought — he himself should have been able to reach such a height, but in those years after leaving Chongwen Academy when he and the others had been stifled and unrecognized, he had squandered it.

He had spent at least three full years without training at all — every day drifting in a fog. Heaven would not reward him for not practicing by making him stronger.

“My lord, let’s leave this place as quickly as possible.”

Ding Man said, “If those two madmen come back, even that token might not hold.”

Zheng Shunshun glanced back at the table full of fine wine and food, feeling the waste of it — especially the game, which looked genuinely appetizing.

Had he known there was a special ingredient in that game, one wonders if he’d still have been tempted.

—

On the mountain.

The woman in violet walked ahead. Old Sun followed quietly behind her. Xiao Gangzi brought up the rear, trailing at a distance from Old Sun.

He was terrified. Utterly terrified. But he didn’t know where he would go if he didn’t follow his master.

His father had been injured while building the mountain path for the Marquis of Weiyang’s household, and had never received his wages. He went home in a rage, fell gravely ill, and didn’t last long before passing away.

He had lost his mother long before. This world seemed to have singled out whoever had the hardest life and kept at them relentlessly.

Had his master not taken him in, he probably wouldn’t have known where and how he would have died by now.

But he never imagined his master was this kind of master. He had hidden and watched from the shadows when his master moved.

He had also seen the cold, glacial side of that elder sister — one more glance, and he felt it could freeze him solid.

“Go back.”

Old Sun turned and glanced at Xiao Gangzi. “I left silver for you. Enough to live on.”

Xiao Gangzi’s footsteps faltered — and then he kept walking.

Old Sun called out, “If you don’t go, I’ll kill you.”

Xiao Gangzi’s footsteps faltered again — startled by the words, not knowing whether his master meant them.

His master had suddenly become a stranger.

But he kept walking anyway — quietly, head bowed, heart pounding with fear.

Then he walked straight into something solid. He looked up — he had walked into his master’s stomach. His master had stopped and was waiting for him.

“I’m a fool — and you’re an even bigger one. Damned if we aren’t a perfect pair, the great fool and the little fool.”

His master was muttering under his breath as he walked. Xiao Gangzi could barely believe he was still alive.

That elder sister had grabbed him by the throat, and in that moment he had seen what hell looked like through her eyes.

“M… Master…”

Xiao Gangzi tested the word cautiously, not daring to say it loudly.

His master had him on his back and said, “Don’t call me master. You’re my ancestor.”

Xiao Gangzi couldn’t think of a single thing to say.

“Master… you didn’t kill me. Heh heh. That’s good.”

“Kill you? Killing you is no different from killing a chicken or a dog — but even a man who keeps a dog long enough starts to feel something for it. Let alone raising a little scoundrel like you.”

Old Sun exhaled heavily. “Can you walk now? If you can, get down yourself.”

Xiao Gangzi shook his head. “I can’t walk…”

Old Sun released his grip, and Xiao Gangzi sat down hard on the ground.

Old Sun said, “She grabbed your neck, not your legs. How can you not walk?”

Xiao Gangzi looked up ahead. That elder sister in the violet robe was walking farther on, the wind moving through her long robe, making her look even more beautiful.

Then he suddenly remembered that she had almost choked him to death, and he instantly didn’t dare look again.

“Master — who is she, anyway?”

Xiao Gangzi couldn’t help asking.

Old Sun didn’t answer. Xiao Gangzi could see that his master’s eyes held something complex and layered.

After a long silence, Old Sun asked, “Am I ugly?”

Xiao Gangzi answered, “Ugly.”

Old Sun said, “Damn…”

Xiao Gangzi suddenly understood. He climbed to his feet and patted his master’s shoulder with something like sympathy. “If I were her, I wouldn’t look twice at you either.”

Old Sun shot him a glare. Xiao Gangzi shrank back and his neck ached.

Old Sun said, “If I hadn’t kept sending you with rice, who would have saved you… but why weren’t you afraid to die, you little wretch?”

Xiao Gangzi said, “Dying beside my master — not so frightening.”

Old Sun froze.

Xiao Gangzi said, “You’re all I have.”

Old Sun raised his hand. Xiao Gangzi flinched — but didn’t dodge in time. His master’s hand came to rest on his face.

His master asked, “Still hurt?”

Xiao Gangzi wanted to cry.

He said it still hurt.

His master said: then in the future… I’ll try to hit less.

The woman in violet paused in her steps just then. She turned to look at them. “I’m tired of walking.”

Old Sun immediately replied, “I’ll carry you — no, no, let me find something and make a sedan — we’ll carry you.”

The woman in violet didn’t answer. She only tilted her head back and gazed at the sky.

While they were cutting branches to make a litter, Xiao Gangzi asked again: “Master — who is she, anyway?”

Old Sun thought for a moment and answered, “My creditor.”

He spoke while he cut branches. “Men are all pathetic creatures. One day, when you meet a woman you love so desperately you can’t help yourself, you’ll understand what your master means.”

Xiao Gangzi wasn’t slow-witted. He could tell — his master loved that elder sister, but that elder sister didn’t love his master.

“She has bitterness in her heart.”

Old Sun slowly exhaled. “I’m pathetic, but at least there’s no bitterness in my heart. At the very least I can see her. She — she can’t see him.”

“Who?”

Xiao Gangzi asked.

Old Sun exhaled again, long and slow, and said, “A scoundrel.”

—

Meanwhile, in Yuzhou City.

Master Wu was walking back from the office and, on the way, bought the pastries Su Xiaoshu loved most. He walked home on foot and, stepping through the gate, saw Su Xiaoshu taking in the laundry that had been hung out to dry.

Master Wu quickly walked over, held out the pastries to Su Xiaoshu, and reached up to take the clothes down from the drying line. “I’ve told you not to do this — those hands of yours aren’t made for washing clothes.”

Su Xiaoshu raised a hand and smoothed the hair hanging over her forehead, breaking into a smile so sweet it was almost overwhelming.

“I bought you pastries, and there’s a packet of calming medicine too. I’ll go brew it for you in a while — the medicine is bitter, the pastries are sweet, so after you’ve had the medicine, eat a pastry, and your mouth won’t feel bitter anymore.”

Master Wu continued to gather the laundry, speaking in a gentle voice.

Su Xiaoshu made a quiet sound of acknowledgment.

Master Wu looked at her. “Last night you had nightmares again — and you said the same thing several times over… if you truly cannot let it go, I’ll take leave from Prince Ning and go with you to look for him.”

Su Xiaoshu shook her head. “No need. Consider him… dead.”

She had nightmares again last night. She dreamed of the sect master of the Holy Saber Sect, who looked into her eyes and asked: “This sword technique — who taught you?”