The village under Pan the Chief’s watch had been unusually peaceful these past few days.

Not only had its people been unaffected by the uninvited guests, they had actually doubled down on their air of absolute, unshakeable indifference — the attitude of a pig that’s not afraid of boiling water.

Their chief had given the word: life and death are fated, wealth and rank are heaven’s will; whether you bow your head or stand tall, the calamity will come regardless — so one might as well face it with composure.

Of course, by the time Xiao Nanhui said those things, she already had a fair measure of confidence in the situation.

As long as the Bai Family’s authority still held, those people could live in her village for ten or twenty years and never actually resort to burning and pillaging.

Whether or not the Bai Family had sent these people to collect tribute she didn’t know, but one thing was certain: these men moved between the various villages as spies, monitoring the state of each tribe. Without the Bai Family’s orders, they would not dare act rashly.

In the months that had passed, whenever she thought back over the life-and-death trials and countless hardships of her journey here, she often felt that nothing else could ever again become an obstacle to completing her mission.

That Akuang was a wolfish sort, but one must enter the tiger’s den to catch the tiger’s cub. Using the excuse that Qiumu’s men had not yet returned to the village, she detained Akuang and his group for a few extra days — her aim was to use this opportunity to gather intelligence on the Bai Family.

This was no less than plucking hairs from a tiger’s chin. Akuang had been tight-lipped at first — which was only to be expected from someone the Bai Family trusted to manage covert operations and assassinations such as the attempt on the Prince Kang — and Xiao Nanhui herself was not skilled at drawing people out. But Wu Xiaoliu had a beak like a snipe, and no matter how tightly Akuang clamped his shell like an oyster, Wu Xiaoliu could always pry open a crack.

From there, Xiao Nanhui only needed to add a little push of her own and offer a few timely conveniences, and the results were immediate.

On this particular night, as usual, she pulled Akuang aside for a late-night snack.

This had become their nightly routine over these past few days. Akuang had long grown bored with being kept in this village, but he could not resist the good food and comfortable treatment. The air had grown increasingly cold, but the bonfire burned warm and soft, and sinking into a comfortable felt mat made one unwilling to move. It was also the most exhausted and unguarded hour of the day. With two or three cups of drink in him, any topic became easy to broach. In just a short time, she had extracted a considerable amount of information, every piece of which she had already passed along to Bolao.

Tonight, she wasn’t sure if the brew had been a little stronger than usual, but Akuang had barely touched on anything useful before he was already slurring and launching into his own romantic exploits.

Xiao Nanhui responded with scattered, half-hearted replies, unable to hide that she was yawning.

Just as she was nodding off, she saw a figure come rushing in from outside. He glanced at her, smoothed whatever expression had been on his face, then leaned close to Akuang’s ear and murmured something.

She caught a glimpse of it from the corner of her eye. Knowing the other side would never let her overhear a single word, she didn’t even bother to perk up her attention.

After a moment, the man finished his report and stepped respectfully to one side. Before she could even ask, Akuang of all people took the initiative and brought it up on his own.

“Chief has shown Akuang great hospitality these past days — I am deeply grateful. Should I now have one matter to request of you, I wonder if the Chief would be willing to accommodate?”

Xiao Nanhui smiled and took a sip of her piping-hot oil tea. “That rather depends on what Akuang has in mind.”

Akuang fixed his triple-white eyes on Xiao Nanhui’s face with a gaze that felt almost tangible. “Something happened to the north yesterday — not far from where Chief Pan is stationed. I need to borrow this location today to meet with someone.”

Something happened? What, exactly?

She was burning with curiosity inside, but on the surface she had to maintain a look of breezy calm and complete disinterest.

“Of course, of course. Would Akuang be meeting an enemy or a friend? I’ll have the village folk make some preparations.”

Akuang smiled — a smile that never quite reached his eyes. “I wouldn’t dare trouble Chief Pan with that. If the Chief has nothing else pressing, you’re welcome to come along and watch. When all is said and done, Akuang is just a pawn who does as he’s paid — I don’t understand a great deal of things myself. I’d very much value the Chief’s opinion.”

Having spent these past few days around him, she had grown accustomed to the unsettling cadences of the man’s speech, and could even keep a smile on her face through it.

“Then I won’t stand on ceremony. Lead the way, Akuang.”

A barren, steep mountain range ran across the northern reaches of Bijiang. That range was a southern extension of the Geleite Plateau — the people of Tiancheng called it Famang Ridge, and the Southern Qiang people called it Suhe, meaning “that mountain.”

Bijiang’s two peerless natural defenses were these: the Three-Eye Pass, and Famang Ridge.

No large army could cross Famang Ridge, which meant the Bai Family could conserve half their forces for guarding Bijiang’s other key passes — a position of effortless advantage.

Yet this time, it appeared that natural bulwark was about to fail.

Xiao Nanhui sat in the largest courtyard of the village, piecing together the outline of events from the low, halting voice of one of Akuang’s men.

Tiancheng had organized a surprise strike force — small in number — that used the first autumn rains of the newly arrived rainy season to carve out a narrow mountain path through the mud and runoff of Famang Ridge. Moving day and night in secret, they aimed to outflank the vulnerable north of Bijiang from behind. Had it succeeded, it would have thrown the interior into complete disarray.

Just yesterday, one detachment of that force had encountered the Bai Family’s troops. The Bai side had suffered heavy losses, and though they had gained nothing, they had managed to capture one of the enemy’s junior officers.

In warfare, it was a grave matter when a commander fell into enemy hands.

Under ordinary circumstances, the Bai Family would never assign someone of Akuang’s rank — a mere pawn — to interrogate a prisoner. But with the fighting now underway, they had no time to spare for such details, and by a twist of chance, she had stumbled right into it.

“Bring up that Tiancheng dog-soldier.”

Those words landed in Xiao Nanhui’s chest like a blunt knife cutting through flesh. Her fingertips tightened on the arms of the rattan chair, her nails going white.

Even the most dim-witted of the Southern Qiang people would surely recognize Xiao Zhun, wouldn’t they? And yet from what that boy had said, they apparently didn’t. But they had called him a junior officer — so it couldn’t be Xiao Zhun.

Besides, what was Xiao Zhun’s level of skill? How could he be captured so easily?

Please don’t be Xiao Zhun. Please, not Xiao Zhun.

She pretended to look down at her nearly empty bowl of oil tea, keeping her gaze fixed on the tips of her shoes, refusing to let her slightly trembling lashes betray a single trace of emotion.

A commotion of footsteps drew near from a distance, mingled with the clinking of armor, and then someone was thrown heavily to the ground with a dull thud.

Akuang’s voice sounded at her side. “Well now — look at that silver armor. Ten to one that’s someone from the Guangyao Battalion.”

Guangyao Battalion — that had nothing to do with Xiao Zhun.

Xiao Nanhui released a slow, silent breath and quietly traced the rim of her bowl with her fingers, inwardly surprised by how well these bandits knew the Tiancheng military.

Perhaps Tiancheng had always underestimated them, thinking them nothing but savages. In truth, they were rather clever.

“Tiancheng man — state your name. Let us all hear which craven wretch we’ve thrashed into the dirt.”

Before Akuang had even finished speaking, roars of laughter broke out from the crowd of Bijiang onlookers gathered around them.

The Tiancheng soldier knelt in silence, face to the ground, ten fingers driving hard into the sand, trembling faintly with the humiliation of it.

“Now he plays the mute. Bring his head up.”

Two large Southern Qiang men stepped forward and grabbed the Tiancheng soldier by the hair, forcing his face up.

A young face was revealed — streaked with blood and grime, but written all over with defiance.

Xiao Nanhui couldn’t stop herself. She only looked for an instant — and the oil tea in her mouth came spraying out.

The silver armor was caked with mud, but that face, now grown a faint beard, was unmistakably familiar. None other than the second son of Duke Xuanyuan, her fellow officer: Su Pingchuan.

Su Pingchuan was gritting his teeth, trying to wrench himself free from the two bandits holding him down. He looked up, caught sight of Xiao Nanhui, and went momentarily still.

Xiao Nanhui’s disguise and dress were drastically different from before, but it wasn’t impossible for someone who knew her to pick her out from a crowd of genuine Southern Qiang locals.

Akuang might look rough, but he was in fact the most perceptive of men. Every movement from both Xiao Nanhui and Su Pingchuan escaped nothing from his scrutiny, and he caught on to the oddity at once. “Well now — Chief Pan, don’t tell me you know this Tiancheng dog-soldier?”

Xiao Nanhui wiped her mouth, in no hurry to deny it. She had never been skilled at lying, and this was not the best moment to test her acting ability.

If these bandits learned his true identity, Su Pingchuan would not survive. Worse than that — he might be mutilated beyond recognition and sent to Duke Xuanyuan’s doorstep to insult and torment the Tiancheng people.

“I won’t deceive you — this man and I have some history.” Xiao Nanhui spoke calmly.

The moment those words were out, Su Pingchuan clearly hadn’t expected them. He looked up and stared at her.

Akuang asked without changing expression: “History? Chief, you’re from the western reaches — and you’ve long lived deep in Bijiang. How could you have any quarrel with this Tiancheng dog-soldier?”

Xiao Nanhui let out a long sigh, as though calling to mind some unpleasant chapter of the past. “This quarrel goes back quite some time — to old grievances. Back then I was young and hot-tempered. One day I had words with my elder sister and left home in a fury. I wandered around in the eastern reaches for a while. I came across this pretty boy harassing a decent woman — I couldn’t stand by and do nothing, so I taught him a lesson. I showed some restraint, only knocked out one tooth. Who could have guessed the man was so petty? He bore a grudge against me from that day forward. When he got a chance, he had me stopped on the road home — armed with some divine weapon, trying to settle the score by hiding behind his rank. To protect myself I had no choice but to fight back—”

This elaborate fabrication was half-true and half-false. The place and time were invented, but the emotions and specifics rang true enough that even sharp-eyed Akuang was left half-persuaded.

Lying always made her mouth run dry. Xiao Nanhui picked up a freshly opened desert date at her side and sucked down two quick gulps, using the moment to flash Wu Xiaoliu a rapid wink. Her tone was thoroughly contemptuous: “In the end, this man didn’t have a feather left on him — walked away without a stitch to his name. I was in no mood for trouble at the time, so I let him go again. And now look at him — the man’s become a plague.”

Su Pingchuan was young and perhaps less experienced, but he was no fool. He read the situation for what it was and spat on the ground with perfect timing. “Bah! With those two-bit moves of yours? I could beat you bloody with my bare hands and have you calling for your mother!”

Everyone present stared wide-eyed. This prisoner clearly had no desire to live, to say something so absolute.

Xiao Nanhui’s mouth twitched.

She knew full well the other party was playing along with her, performing their part — but those words were still offensively well-chosen. Calling for your mother? She didn’t even have a mother! The more she thought about it, the angrier she got!

Akuang, for his part, felt that the way things were developing today had gone somewhat outside his expectations. Just as he was about to open his mouth and take back control of the situation, the woman beside him let out a roar that could shake the rafters.

“You little worm! You shameless, turtle-spawned wretch! How dare you make a scene in front of me! Not even the gods themselves can protect you today — if I don’t skin you alive and simmer you over a low flame for three days and three nights, my name isn’t Pan!”

Akuang was momentarily taken aback.

Skin you alive? No, no, no — that wouldn’t do. Though it happened to be one of his own specialties, the Bai Family had been very clear: the prisoner must not be killed.

With that thought, he quickly cleared his throat. “Chief Pan, calm yourself. He’s just some defeated wretch who lost in battle. He’s clearly been pampered under that Tiancheng dog-emperor — all he knows how to do is flap his mouth. Give him a taste of the real thing and he’ll crumble soon enough. If you’d rather not dirty your hands, leave him to me.”

Leave him to you? Then he’s finished for certain.

These bandits had heavy hands. Su Pingchuan, with his pampered, noble constitution, wouldn’t last in their grip — they’d torture him to death before getting anything useful out of him.

Her mind worked at speed. Xiao Nanhui rose to her feet and walked toward Su Pingchuan, grabbed his chin, and lifted it — her voice taking on a distinctly lascivious tone.

“You make a fair point. A man as fine as this — what a pity to skin him alive. Starve him a few days first. Once he’s too weak to put up a fight, I’ll deal with him personally.”

Akuang’s eye gave the faintest twitch, though he forced a civil smile. “Chief Pan’s meaning is—?”

Xiao Nanhui shot him a sideways look, as though reproaching him for being dense. “Is Akuang going to be so stingy? I’ll return him to you once I’m done. Or are you saying these past few days between us meant nothing? That you never truly considered me your equal?”

Those last two sentences carried real weight. Akuang seethed inside — he cursed himself for ever having invited this woman along today — but he dared not let the facade crack just yet.

He summoned every ounce of his shamelessness and offered up a fawning smile. “Of course not, of course not. That Chief Pan has taken a fancy to him — why, that’s his good fortune.”

Xiao Nanhui gave a satisfied nod. To see the performance through completely, she reached out and gave Su Pingchuan’s face one final pat, then threw her head back and let out several uninhibited howls of laughter.

Su Pingchuan had evidently never seen Xiao Nanhui carry on like this. Even knowing it was an act, he couldn’t help shuddering.

They say a tiger fallen to flat ground is bullied even by dogs.

He just hadn’t imagined the “bullying” would take quite this form.