In truth, it wasn’t Chen Baoxiang who had actively driven him there — rather, Cheng’an had been full of confidence in himself, convinced that his familiarity with the Heavenly Ravine’s terrain would let him spring a surprise and trap her there. So he had pressed forward boldly, intending to lure Chen Baoxiang deep into the ravine.

What he had not anticipated was that Chen Baoxiang knew this terrain even better than he did. Without even needing to glance down at the ground, she had caught up with him.

Cheng’an used his rear guards as shields the whole way, and in the end, with nowhere left to flee, she had cornered him in a dead end with precipices dropping into the Heavenly Ravine on three sides.

“Will you go down yourself,” she said with a smile, “or shall I help you down?”

Cheng’an stared at her in sheer disbelief. “No — that’s wrong, that’s impossible. You’ve been here before? How could you possibly have been here before?”

Chen Baoxiang said nothing. Slowly, she drew the arrows from the quiver on her back.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Cheng’an bellowed. “I’m not a bandit!”

“Aren’t you?” She glanced at the wound still bleeding at her collarbone. “Just a moment ago, when you were firing arrows from hiding, weren’t you standing right alongside them?”

“My archery is poor — an accidental injury is entirely within reason.” Cheng’an stiffened his neck. “The General is waiting for me to report back. Get out of my way.”

She drew the bowstring to its full tension, then Chen Baoxiang, stone-faced, released her fingertips in one sharp motion.

The arrow split the air and came hurtling forward with the force of the wind.

Before Cheng’an could even react, his chest went cold. His eyes flew wide open. The pain was such that he could not draw breath — he stumbled and sank to one knee on the ground.

“At the time when you came to Tianningshan Mountain, you carried a basket of steamed buns and told us: the General is on the verge of his great triumph, and we need no longer serve our corvée. We could go home and reunite with our families.”

A voice came from far away, and in the blink of an eye it was right before him.

Cheng’an struggled to lift his head, blood threading through the whites of his eyes. “You…”

“How could you have recognized me? I was merely the most unremarkable person in that pit.” Chen Baoxiang crouched down, gazing at him with a smile. “Just as Lu Shouhuai never recognized me either — I had once glimpsed him only from a distance, far off amid the great floodwaters.”

Cheng’an’s entire body trembled in shock.

With tremendous effort, he looked toward the direction of the mountaintop — as though he wanted to warn his master to take care.

But there was no longer any chance for that. Blood poured like water; his vision went dark, and he toppled over the edge into the Heavenly Ravine.

·

Li Bingsheng had already begun thinking of alternative escape routes — after all, by any reckoning, Chen Baoxiang and her small forces could never break out of the encirclement.

Yet when the morning sun rose the next day, that woman appeared before her, kneeling, drenched from head to toe in blood, and said with a smile: “This subordinate respectfully invites Your Highness to return to the capital.”

The blood on her face was thick and filthy, making the small patch of unmarked skin all the more pale and fair. Her eyes were bright and shining — like a cat that had caught a mouse and come trotting back to claim its reward.

Li Bingsheng’s heart, ordinarily indestructible, finally surrendered at last in the morning light and under those eyes.

She asked: “Did you get your revenge?”

“Half of it.” Chen Baoxiang replied. “The other half — today is not the right time.”

Her forces here were still insufficient to mount an assault to the mountaintop. Being able to retreat was already quite fortunate.

“What did His Majesty say on his end?”

“His Majesty expressed great concern for Your Highness and Princess Rouyi’s safety. The Imperial Guards by his side assisted in the suppression of the bandits, and suffered no small number of casualties themselves.” Chen Baoxiang replied. “The bodies have become so intermingled that it’s impossible to tell them apart.”

Li Bingsheng laughed. “Just imagining how furious he must be inside, while having to perform his concern — this princess is truly delighted.”

Rouyi stood to the side, her face drained of all color.

When she caught her aunt’s eyes sweeping over her, she stumbled backward in alarm, instinctively shaking her head. “Don’t kill me — Aunt, please don’t kill me.”

“One must pull up a weed by its roots.” Li Bingsheng pointed at Chen Baoxiang. “Look how serious the consequences are when you don’t?”

Chen Baoxiang: “…” No, is that really the right way to put that?

“I won’t tell Father anything — please, Aunt, I beg you. Spare me.” She wailed and sobbed. Her once-rich and splendid skirt was now crumpled and wrinkled, and her face was streaked with grime.

Chen Baoxiang stayed well out of it.

She understood perfectly that the Grand Princess was only frightening Rouyi — she would not truly kill her. Not in front of this many people, at least.

Sure enough, after the girl had been scared into wailing and weeping, Li Bingsheng gave a satisfied wave of her hand and had her personal guards haul Rouyi away.

She turned to Chen Baoxiang and said: “You have rendered great merit. When we return, this princess will certainly not treat you unfairly.”

“Many thanks, Your Highness.” Chen Baoxiang grew immediately animated. “Let’s leave aside other rewards for now — could Your Highness first see to it that the forward-court Imperial Guards release my back pay? I still owe Biqing over one tael of silver, and without the pay, I have no way to settle the debt.”

Li Bingsheng: “…”

A person who had just rendered such enormous merit still hadn’t received their back pay. What on earth kind of state of affairs was this.

·

Zhang Zhixu was occupied with dealing with the Imperial Guards stationed at the mountain pass when he suddenly spotted Registrar Su and Registrar Zhao coming down from the mountain with their people.

“Sir?” They pressed in curiously. “What brings you here?”

There was no time to explain. He grabbed both of them and asked urgently: “What is the situation on the mountain? What are the casualties?”

“The bandits have all been suppressed. The Holy One and the Grand Princess are about to return to the capital. Our Bureau sent a total of over two hundred and eighty men — ninety with minor injuries, twelve with serious injuries, and no fatalities.” Registrar Su said. “This engagement can be considered a great victory.”

“I’m not asking about our Bureau.” Zhang Zhixu pressed his lips together. “I mean everyone on the mountain — are there truly no deaths?”

“That certainly isn’t the case.” Registrar Su said. “The situation on the mountain was extremely dangerous and a good number of people fell. If not for Commissioner Chen, we would all have died up there.”

The moment Chen Baoxiang’s name came up, both of them immediately grew animated. “Sir, you should have seen it — Commissioner Chen was absolutely extraordinary!”

Zhang Zhixu listened in stunned surprise.

These registrars were not young men, and were no pushovers. Previously in the Bureau they had not thought very highly of Chen Baoxiang at all — how had their attitude changed so dramatically and so suddenly?

Registrar Zhao even pulled at him and launched into a rambling account of what had happened:

“Fenghua and I led three hundred men up the mountain by a small path on the southeastern side. Halfway up we ran into the bandits. Those bandits had blades and swords and greatly outnumbered us — Fenghua and I couldn’t manage them. So we moved to the right, heading south, intending to link up with Registrar Su.”

“But it turned out Registrar Su had been chased by bandits and gotten lost, and wasn’t near the agreed-upon southern marker stone. When we led our men there, we ended up entering a valley path instead and were hit from both front and rear.”

Worried that Zhang Zhixu couldn’t visualize it, he unrolled a map of Tianningshan Mountain right there on horseback.

The valley path was only twenty zhang wide, with steep cliffs on both sides. Ahead lay a hundred archers in ambush; behind them swarmed a dense mass of pursuers.

In that instant, both Registrar Zhao and Fenghua had been certain they were going to die there.

“It was then that Commissioner Chen appeared out of nowhere like divine reinforcements!” Registrar Zhao pointed excitedly at the red markings on the map.

“She led two hundred men in a strike from the southern end of the valley, forming a reverse encirclement with us — and before the bandits in front had any time to react, she had already struck their rear. She cut them down like slicing vegetables, and captured over a hundred of their bows and arrows besides.”

“By the time the bandits on the northern side had figured out what was happening, Commissioner Chen had already led us eastward in retreat. There is an old village site there, and its crumbling walls and ruins formed excellent cover. Commissioner Chen had us regroup there, and then used the elevated terrain and the surrounding boulders to set up a defensive position.”

At this point, Registrar Zhao grew even more worked up. “Sir, do you know how rare it is to find such a favorable piece of terrain in a place like that?!”

The bandits were numerous and formidable, surging forward with tremendous momentum. The Bureau officers, unfamiliar with the terrain, were frightened and their fighting capacity was far below what it would have been back in Shangjing.

Having such a favorable position was no less than a massive pillar of confidence — and so even under such overwhelming disadvantage, not a single person deserted.

And Chen Baoxiang herself stood before the signal fire that had been lit, drew her long blade, and led the charge straight into the first wave of attacking bandits.