After a short while, Mr. Li pulled the door open again for a look. Seeing no trace of that man on the street, he slowly exhaled.

He found that person somewhat interesting, though not particularly entertaining.

He glanced back at the Western Regions woman, who had now woken up and was reclining on her side, her eyes languid and alluring — which made him feel that he truly was a… remarkably capable man.

And so he stepped toward her. “Look at you — it’s raining, the weather’s cool, how did you manage to kick the blanket off?”

Su Ruye, already having walked quite some distance away, was still turning over in his mind the words of that gentleman.

*If you have spent your whole life trying to discover what is wrong with this world yet cannot find it, then you can instead go search for what is right, protect that which is right, and prevent the wrong from happening.*

And so his steps came to a halt. He thought: he had received such a great piece of guidance from the man, yet he didn’t even know the man’s name — that seemed rather impolite.

He had been tracking Mr. Li for a very long time. He knew that Mr. Li had many identities, but what he could not possibly have known was that Mr. Li’s identities were so numerous that he could never have traced them all.

Nor could he have known that Mr. Li was not merely the age he appeared to be.

Su Ruye thought he really ought to at least ask the man’s name before leaving, and so he turned around and went back.

When he reached the doorway of the little tavern and was just about to knock, he heard some strange and peculiar sounds from within.

He was startled, because those moaning sounds resembled someone in pain.

And so he immediately made his way to the window, which was still open, and just as he poked his head in to look, a shoe came flying out — he dodged aside in an instant.

From inside came Mr. Li’s voice: “Are you done?!”

“Alas…”

Su Ruye let out a long sigh and muttered to himself: “What a waste. It truly is a waste.”

Only now did he understand — that had not been the sound of someone in pain. As for fighting, one could fight and still not be hurt.

Mr. Li: “Get lost!”

Su Ruye turned and walked away again, muttering as he went: “See no impropriety, hear no impropriety…”

—

Half a month later. Thirty-some li north of Jingzhou, Quan County town.

Gui Yuanshu and his group were finally nearing Daxing City. By this time, darkness had fallen, and even if they pressed on, they would not be able to enter Daxing City — the city gates would certainly be shut before sundown.

And so they found the largest inn in the county town and settled in for the night. The situation in Jingzhou was poor; virtually every trade had little business and was barely holding on.

Apart from their group, the inn had only one other set of guests, who had gone out to stroll the streets and had not yet returned.

The innkeeper’s heart bloomed with joy at the sight of such a large party arriving — it had been a long while since any big business had come through the door.

Once they were settled, Zheng Shunshun and the others wanted to go out and look around, needing to purchase some necessities. Gui Yuanshu had no desire to move about; he told them to be careful and returned alone to his room to rest.

Li Chi had given him no specific mission, but Li Chi’s guess was that the moment Yang Xuanji entered Jingzhou, Prince Wu’s great army would immediately turn back toward Daxing City.

Li Chi’s idea was: if possible, to find a way to provoke a three-way battle among Prince Wu’s forces, Li Xionghu’s forces, and Yang Xuanji’s forces.

Once such a situation arose, Li Chi’s Ning Army could enter Jingzhou and sweep through like a force shattering bamboo.

Even if the situation became a stalemate, Li Chi could temporarily hold off entering Jingzhou and redirect his troops to seize Qingzhou and Suzhou while those three powers were locked in fierce battle with each other.

One was a major grain-producing region; the other a land of fish and rice. With those two provinces, combined with Yuzhou already in hand, the granaries of the realm would all be in Li Chi’s grasp.

Back in his room, Gui Yuanshu lay on the bed and thought carefully. If things were as they had been before — when those treacherous villains still held power at court — he would have had a genuine opportunity to sow discord.

Those people were driven purely by self-interest, and besides, they were hoping for Prince Wu to be defeated quickly so they could sooner welcome Yang Xuanji into the capital.

But now, the Minister of War was his old dear friend Wei Chiming, and the Ministers of Finance and Rites were also his brothers.

In this situation, he had almost no opening to act.

He knew how great the ambitions were in his brothers’ hearts. Back when they were all together in the Chongwen Academy, they had sworn together to become the pillars of Dachu.

A young man’s ambition, once given the chance to be realized, becomes an unshakeable conviction.

He also knew Wei Chiming’s capabilities well, and he knew that the Emperor was no mediocrity. On top of that, the appointment of new talent at this juncture seemed to have genuinely breathed a renewed vitality into Dachu.

Just as he was turning all of this over in his mind, a burst of clamor suddenly rose up from the street outside. Gui Yuanshu got up and went to the window to look down, and within moments his expression changed.

Passing below at that moment was a formation of imperial troops — seemingly quite numerous, their armor complete and their ranks in tight order.

Yet Gui Yuanshu could tell at a glance: this was a unit of new recruits.

The faces of those soldiers still bore the greenness of youth, along with a pride that was all the more conspicuous for their freshly donned military uniforms.

A unit of veterans would have worn only the lines of hardship and exhaustion on their faces.

New recruits and veterans could be told apart at a single glance — especially after having seen Prince Wu’s great army, the difference was even clearer.

A single unit of new recruits alone would not have shaken Gui Yuanshu. After all, the Emperor had always been straining every sinew to preserve Dachu, and the court had never once ceased its recruitment of new soldiers.

What shook him was the banner flying at the head of that formation.

On one of the command banners, the two characters for Wei Chiming could be clearly read.

He looked toward that banner, and amid the crowd, he spotted Wei Chiming — the man who had once regarded him as a younger brother.

As though feeling his gaze, Wei Chiming turned to look back. Gui Yuanshu immediately ducked down.

He wasn’t sure why, but his heart was pounding with alarm.

It felt exactly as though a younger brother had done something wrong, and an older brother had found him out.

Yet he knew he had not done anything wrong. He had simply made a choice of his own. Only — his choice was different from Wei Chiming’s, and that alone made his heart race.

Wei Chiming was their eldest brother.

Gui Yuanshu crouched there for a while, then sat down on the floor and laughed at himself.

*As expected… I’m still as much of a coward as ever.*

He had the courage to defy convention, even to challenge imperial authority — yet he still did not have enough courage to face his eldest brother.

He had not done anything wrong. The choice he had made was absolutely not a wrong one. But it was different from his eldest brother’s choice, and that alone made his heart race.

If Wei Chiming were to point at his nose right now and ask: *Do you still remember the oath we swore together as brothers back then?*

Gui Yuanshu would not know how to answer. Would not dare to answer.

In the Dachu army formation, the personal guard commander Gao Mo looked toward the great general and couldn’t resist asking: “Great General, what are you looking at?”

Wei Chiming held the rank of Minister of War while concurrently serving as Great General — his standing was so elevated that it went without saying.

He shook his head. “Nothing.”

He simply felt that the figure he had just glimpsed in that inn window bore an uncanny resemblance to his good brother Gui Yuanshu. Though it had been only the briefest of glances, there was a familiar quality he recognized from the old days.

But Gui Yuanshu had already died in Qingzhou — the Emperor himself had told them so, and he would never question what the Emperor said.

It was also in this very moment of brief distraction that three people walked past in the opposite direction, cutting across the side of the formation and heading back toward the inn.

As always, the woman in purple walked ahead on her own, as cold and distant as though she did not belong to this human world.

Old Sun and Little Gang followed behind her, and in Old Sun’s eyes as he watched the woman in purple, there was an unmistakable, undisguisable adoration.

Little Gang, however, felt that his master really had no shame, staring at someone’s backside like that.

Though… it really was quite fine to look at.

She made no effort to sway her hips, and her manner was cool and detached, yet when she walked, she gave the impression that even the slightest gentle sway was the most beautiful thing in the human world.

On the other side of the formation, inside a teahouse, a group of men who had been drinking tea all shifted their gazes to follow the moving figure of the woman in purple.

Even with the passing formation between them, they couldn’t bring themselves to look away.

“To think that in a small place like this, one would encounter a woman of such bearing.”

The man who appeared to be their leader murmured with feeling.

The others chimed in agreement — for they were all terrified of this man.

This person looked to be around forty years old, of medium build, with an unremarkable appearance. Even the fine and expensive clothing he wore could not seem to lend him any air of distinction.

Some people are simply born this way — no matter how magnificent their clothes, it makes no difference; it only makes the clothes look cheap.

Dress him in plain cloth and short garments, stick a hoe over his shoulder in straw sandals, and he would immediately look perfectly natural.

He was exactly that sort of person — yet he desperately wanted to be the kind of noble, lofty figure he imagined and admired.

His name was Duan Hen, known in the underground world as the top martial artist of Su-Yue.

Su-Yue referred to Suzhou and Yuezhou. Suzhou was the wealthiest place under heaven; Yuezhou was vast in territory with a fiercely independent populace. These were two of the more significant among Dachu’s thirteen provinces — so to be called the top martial artist of Su-Yue was by no means an empty boast.

*A tree that stands out in the forest will be felled by the wind — but if a tree that stands out in the forest cannot be felled by the wind, does that not say everything?*

Say a scholar proclaimed himself the top literary master of Jingzhou, and any number of people would laugh at him, with some ready to give him a lesson.

It was no different with martial artists. If someone dared call themselves the top martial artist of Jingzhou, an uncountable number of challengers would come seeking them out.

Duan Hen had consecutively challenged the top masters of thirty-six schools in Yuezhou without ever suffering a single defeat. For the sake of building his name, he fought his way from Yuezhou into Suzhou — where the martial world naturally showed him no face — yet over seven consecutive months, however many matches he fought he could no longer remember, and still not a single defeat.

And so, in his arrogance, he went to seek an audience with Li Xionghu, hoping to be given a generalship.

Li Xionghu looked down on men like him, seeing him as someone who put on airs and was far too brazen.

Even genuine ability, when coupled with excessive arrogance, will make people dislike you.

One of Li Xionghu’s advisors came up with a scheme: let Duan Hen lead men to Daxing City to assassinate the Emperor. If he succeeded, a generalship would be a fair reward for such a great achievement.

Duan Hen actually set out with a group of his men — but when they reached Daxing City, he suddenly came to his senses. He was being used as a weapon by Li Xionghu.

In a fit of rage, he went and turned himself over to the authorities — and by chance walked straight into an opportunity.

The Emperor wanted to thoroughly purge the court of its cancerous elements, but he was short of men he could trust. Compared with the deeply entrenched, interwoven influence of the great families throughout Daxing City, the capable people at the Emperor’s side were like a few lone, isolated threads.

It was in precisely this opening that Duan Hen led his people to render great service to the Emperor: dozens of households within Daxing City were cut down, and Duan Hen was at the front of every charge.

The great families naturally had no shortage of skilled fighters, yet not one could withstand a single blow from him.

Emperor Yang Jing was overjoyed — he had stumbled upon a first-rate martial expert from out of nowhere, perfectly filling the gap left by Fang Zhuhou’s departure from Daxing City.

Yet an Emperor like Yang Jing could never truly trust a man of the martial underworld. He didn’t even trust Fang Zhuhou — how much less someone who had come from Li Xionghu’s side?

He simply had the head of the imperial guards, Hui Chunqiu, make use of Duan Hen and his people: first to keep a covert watch on Wei Chiming, and second to continue quietly eliminating Yang Xuanji’s operatives.

Hui Chunqiu, the head of the imperial guards, was formidable in his own right — having barely broken into the ranks of the first tier, just a shade below the fourth-greatest martial artist in the world.

Yet while Hui Chunqiu held the fourth-greatest in awe, he held Duan Hen in fear.

Fortunately, someone like Duan Hen was the easiest sort to make use of. All Duan Hen wanted was fame and gain.

The Emperor had confiscated so much from those great families that he had gained greatly, and this too was what gave him the confidence to raise more new armies.

The Emperor was equally free with his verbal rewards — granting Duan Hen a first-rank earldom on the spot, and bestowing on him the official post of fourth-rank Zhonglangjiang of the Imperial Guards.

It was a position without actual military command, but the rank and title had been given, and Duan Hen was thoroughly satisfied.

He was a simple man: give him what he wanted, and he would give back in return.

And so this time, when Hui Chunqiu sent him to secretly keep watch on Wei Chiming, he came.

As it happened, he had taken a fancy to the woman in purple.

—