Following the plan of Yuzhou Military Governor Yan Qingzhi, the Lantern Festival would begin on the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month and conclude on the twenty-sixth day of the first month — a full month in length. The request was submitted to Prince Ning and approved.

The day after Prince Wu and his party entered the city, the Lantern Festival decorations were already in place. Travelers and merchants from across the land flowed in and out in a continuous stream.

Prince Wu rose early, wearing the same plain clothes as before, the same bamboo hat, the same old cloth shoes, and the same unremarkable stick as a walking staff.

He stepped out onto the street, and in the morning sunlight, breathed in the air of the mortal world — like an ancient demon on the verge of passing from this life, trying to take in a few more gulps of this worldly breath.

He settled at a breakfast stall, more or less at random — a bowl of silken tofu, four oil fritters, and a small dish of fermented tofu curd offered gratis.

While eating, he listened to the people around him chatting idly. Left and right, there was not a single word of complaint, not a single note of sorrow.

If this wasn’t human life at its most beautiful, what was?

To his left, a family of three — a little girl of about seven or eight said she wanted a cloth tiger. The mother said that a small thing like that might cost thirty or fifty copper coins. The father said they weren’t short of thirty or fifty copper coins, patted the girl lightly on the head, and said: “We’ll buy two — put them in your room to protect you.”

The mother looked mildly pained at the expense, yet laughed with genuine happiness. Happiness bought for a few dozen copper coins — what could be better?

To his right, an elderly couple who looked to be in their fifties were talking quietly beside each other as they ate, as though afraid of being overheard.

Prince Wu’s hearing was sharp — he caught fragments of the old couple saying they should leave early, or else they might not get in the queue.

He hadn’t heard everything, but the stall owner had.

Prince Wu had just noticed this stall owner growing displeased moments earlier when someone haggled away two copper coins — and now he watched her turn and shake her head at the old couple.

The old couple said they were ready to pay, but the stall owner shook her head and said, I heard every word — doesn’t matter how quietly you speak, I still heard.

Your son joined the army last year. He’s stationed in the Ning Army garrison right here in Yuzhou. You two haven’t seen your son in nearly a year, am I right?

You two want to go up on the city wall shortly, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. You’re afraid that if you go too late there won’t be space in the queue, am I right?

You two were speaking softly because you didn’t want others to know your son was in the army? And you were afraid that if I knew, I wouldn’t take your money?

Well, you’re right about that — I won’t take your money. My husband, go fill two flasks of hot soup for them. They’ve got a long way to walk, and they’ll need something warm.

The old couple insisted on paying regardless, but the stall owner — whom Prince Wu had just thought of as rather mercenary — helped them hang the water flasks around their necks and then shooed them out the door.

“Go on, go see your son. When we have a son of our own someday, we’ll send him to serve under Prince Ning too.”

She waved her hand: “Come back for lunch if you get hungry at noon.”

Prince Wu looked at the stall owner and asked: “Why would you not take their money, just because their son is in the Ning Army? Are you afraid that once you’ve taken the money you’ll have no way of answering to their son someday?”

The stall owner glanced at him: “You’re from out of town, aren’t you, old-timer?”

Prince Wu nodded: “Yes.”

The stall owner said: “Then you don’t know a damn thing.”

Prince Wu was taken aback. At his age, it was the first time a commoner had ever spoken to him like that.

But he didn’t take offense — and smiled: “I’m from the countryside. Walked over a fortnight to get here. I remember in the old days, the moment you saw a soldier, you had to get out of the way and keep your distance. Things really are different now.”

The stall owner glanced at him again: “Walked over a fortnight, all by yourself, old-timer?”

Prince Wu nodded: “By myself. My son isn’t in the Ning Army, but I wanted to come and see for myself.”

He asked: “Does it cost much to go up on the city wall?”

The stall owner said: “Not much. Tight on money, are you?”

Prince Wu smiled and said nothing.

The stall owner said nothing more either.

When the meal was done, Prince Wu rose and went to pay. The stall owner counted it up and charged him the full amount — not a single copper coin was waived.

As Prince Wu turned to leave, the stall owner called after him. He turned and asked what the matter was.

The stall owner pointed at the flask Prince Wu was carrying: “Come here, let me top that up for you.”

Prince Wu glanced at the sign nearby — a bowl of hot soup was three copper coins.

The stall owner, with an impatient look on her face, took Prince Wu’s flask, filled it with soup, and hung it back around his neck: “You’re so old, if you can’t push through the crowd don’t push. If you want to see the Ning Army, the patrol will be coming past soon — why bother climbing all the way up?”

Prince Wu smiled: “I know it’ll tire me out. I still want to go up.”

The stall owner smiled too: “Then off you go, hurry up, I’m getting busy. And if you run out of money and can’t get home, come wash dishes for me for two days — I’ll pay you for your work, old-timer.”

Prince Wu nodded, walked a few steps out, then suddenly remembered what the little boy had said the day before. He turned back and gave the stall owner a slight bow: “Thank you.”

The stall owner’s smile grew even brighter. That face, a little roughened from years without time to care for, lit up beautifully when she smiled.

Prince Wu followed the crowd. Today, the most lively destination was clearly the city wall.

Up on the wall, you could look down on the Ning Army soldiers training in the great encampment — distant, yes, but still worth a look.

Of course, one could also see the defensive arrangements of the Ning Army along the city wall… but Prince Wu also understood that if the Ning Army dared open the city wall to let common folk go up and watch, they had no fear of spies within the crowd.

And what could anyone do with what they saw?

The queue was long, but Prince Wu felt no impatience. In all his years of life, never had he felt as unhurried as he did these past two days — in no rush to do anything at all.

Just then, a carriage drew to a halt outside the crowd. A middle-aged man in a purple robe stepped down from it. The Ning Army soldiers maintaining order all around him saluted.

That purple robe spoke of a very high station — the embroidery was different from Dachu’s official garments, yet Prince Wu could tell at a rough glance… the man was a first-rank official.

First rank, in Yuzhou — that could only be the military governor.

In former times, if a Dachu military governor were to appear, a regional official of such power and authority would have sent the commoners dropping to their knees in waves.

Yet this official in the purple robe moved without fanfare, accompanied only by two attendants. When he reached the front and saw the enormous crowd, he spoke a few quiet words and then left again — clearly in great haste, evidently with too many matters awaiting him.

Before long, after the official in the purple robe had gone, the Ning Army began calling out to the crowd. They said the military governor had given instructions: an additional passage was to be opened for elderly visitors. Those who wished to go up with their families were welcome to remain in the original queue; those who wished to save some time could come and queue on this side instead.

Prince Wu considered for a moment, then moved to the other line — the passageway opened specially for the elderly.

He said thank you to the Ning Army soldier, who helped steady him and said: careful now, elder, the incline on the ramp is a bit steep.

The ramp up the city wall — was there anyone more familiar with it than this old man?

The young soldier didn’t know that the man he was helping up was the Martial God of Dachu. And the Martial God of Dachu knew: this was a good soldier.

Once on top of the wall, a gleam began to appear in Prince Wu’s eyes.

He saw the heavy crossbows mounted at intervals of just over a zhang all along the Yuzhou city wall — different in design from those made in Dachu.

The soldiers polished the crossbows until they shone without a speck of dust. The way those soldiers looked at the crossbows was the way a man looks at the woman he loves.

Prince Wu walked on, looking as he went — he didn’t know how long he walked, but at last he reached a spot where he could look down at the distant Ning Army encampment.

The distance was great indeed — he could only just make out the Ning Army drilling in formation on the training grounds.

Gripping the battlements, watching the formation changes he knew better than anything else, Prince Wu was silent for a long while.

He seemed reluctant to leave. The soldiers his eyes found in the distance carried him back, in a trance, to decades past — to the young man he had been, standing before a crowd of new recruits and shouting: “From today onward, you are all my men. Train hard with me. I will be by your sides longer than your wives — because other commanders’ soldiers may die easily on the battlefield, but train with me, and I promise you will live long! Because no one will ever be able to beat you!”

Without knowing when it had happened, tears were streaming down the old man’s face. He remembered those words. He also remembered… that not a single one of the first batch of soldiers he had trained was still alive.

“Good soldiers… good soldiers.”

After a long silence, Prince Wu’s hand came down hard against the battlements. He muttered to himself that he had seen enough, and turned to walk back.

He didn’t know why, but coming down from the wall on his way back, he found himself drifting — without realizing it — to the same place he had rested the day before.

An ordinary household’s gate, with a firewood pile beside it. Unlike yesterday, the little boy was nowhere to be seen.

Prince Wu placed the stick he had used for a day and more back on top of the firewood pile, and slowly let out a breath.

Not bad. All of it, not bad at all.

Returning to the trading house, his attendants saw him coming and rushed to receive him, offering solicitous words of concern.

Prince Wu felt a faint sense of revulsion — the seemingly earnest expressions on his attendants’ faces seemed to warm him far less than the glare of that oil fritter stall owner.

“This Prince Ning must be desperate for money.”

One attendant said, fancying himself clever: “He’s actually opened the city wall to let people in for a fee. Stooping to earn money like that… a man greedy enough to stoop this low…”

His words were not yet finished when Prince Wu looked over at him. The gaze was calm, without anger — yet it sent a chill through the man that struck him to the bone.

An aged lion — still with the gaze that looks down on all things.

“If you had seen the leather armor on the Ning Army soldiers, seen their repeating crossbows and long bows, seen the mounted crossbows along the city wall — you would not think what he does is beneath him. You would not think it shameful.”

Prince Wu returned to the reclined chair and sat down. Attendants hurried to offer him hot tea.

Prince Wu shook his head, and instead took off his flask and handed it to an attendant: “Warm this up for me. I didn’t finish it — it’s gone cold.”

The attendant asked curiously what it was. Prince Wu thought for a moment, then answered… something that costs nothing yet is by no means cheap. Something called respect.

The attendant naturally didn’t understand, and Prince Wu couldn’t be bothered to explain.

Before dark, the old man rose: “Pack everything. We’re leaving.”

Everyone was bewildered. Why the sudden decision to leave?

While his attendants packed, Prince Wu went to the study and wrote a letter, which he handed to a personal aide: “Deliver this to Grand Official Hong Shirui. Ask him to pass it on to Prince Ning.”

The aide dared not delay and ran out immediately.

Before the city gates closed, an old horse-drawn cart rolled out of Yuzhou. In the carriage, Prince Wu sat with eyes closed, already without the stirring emotions of before — no excitement, no envy, no resentment.

Once out of the city, the old man opened his eyes and murmured to himself: “If what I have seen reflects seven parts of what the future holds, then the Central Plains of tomorrow shall be bowed to by all under heaven. If it reflects only three parts… then the Central Plains of tomorrow… shall be invincible under heaven.”

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