The half chicken bone landed at Chen Siniu’s feet. He kept his head bowed, saying nothing, humbled.

The sound of chewing in the hall struck at his heart like a whip, lash after lash, until the servant boy holding the silver pouch came out from the back room, whispered a few words into Shangguan Yizhi’s ear, and the chiliarch suddenly seemed to choke, coughing hard, muttering: “Damn it! Nearly choked me to death, who made this dish?”

The hall fell silent again. Chen Siniu, not knowing what had happened, bowed even lower in dread.

After a good while, the chiliarch finally stopped coughing and began to chuckle.

“Heh heh, heh heh, haha… hahaha! Ah! My dear Captain Chen! Old brother Chen!”

He finally stood, walked step by step toward Chen Siniu, paused, then reached out with both hands to lift him from his bow, saying warmly: “Ah, old brother Chen! I’ve been neglectful, terribly so! Why do you keep doing this, over and over? What’s the point? I thought we had an understanding — if you’d brought over a box of pastries for me to try, that would’ve been one thing, but this? What is this? Are you trying to keep me at arm’s length?”

Chen Siniu looked up in utter astonishment. Having played the humble grandson for so long, he’d lost the ability to reason like an ordinary person — whenever something happened, his mind leapt straight to the worst.

Could it be — the chiliarch no longer wanted to handle this matter for him?

Fear consumed him, his insides turning to ash, and his knees buckled as if to kneel again, but the chiliarch pulled him up forcefully and, still warm, dragged him off to a side parlor, calling out a string of orders as they went: “Someone, someone! These useless lot, am I so busy with official business that I’m starved half to death, and you’re all busy too? You bunch of good-for-nothings, someone, someone! Quick, serve Captain Chen some tea! Oh, bring out that two liang of loose leaf tea, the one that belongs to your mistress.”

Fine loose-leaf tea floated in a precious porcelain cup — the kind of cup that made one afraid to even touch it. Chen Siniu didn’t dare drink, just watched the chiliarch nervously.

But the chiliarch, his usually unkempt, bearded face now affecting an air of refinement, seemed lost in thought, his eyes darting about. Occasionally his gaze crossed with Chen Siniu’s, and he’d wave a hand, saying: “Oh, go on, drink, drink.”

Then he’d go back to thinking.

No telling how long he thought it over — Chen Siniu’s clothes soaked through with sweat and dried again more than once — until finally the chiliarch set down his teacup and called out: “Someone! Bring brush and ink.”

The servant boy who’d taken the silver brought over brush, ink, and paper. In the side parlor, the chiliarch picked up the brush and wrote out a letter, let it dry, folded it, sealed it in an envelope, and sealed it with wax before handing it to Chen Siniu, who had stood back up:

“Ah, these years, none of it’s been easy for any of us. Following His Majesty through it all, we’ve all come out with a decent enough outcome in the end. You — Captain Chen, under my command you’ve worked hard and contributed much. With an elderly mother at home, and Zuoliang Pass so many thousands of li away, well! It’s a filial heart too, I understand that.”

Chen Siniu, not understanding what was happening, fell back on habit and immediately expressed his gratitude: “Many thanks for the chiliarch’s consideration.”

The chiliarch waved a hand: “Ah, consideration, nothing! Everyone has their own burdens. All these years, I’ve done my best to look out for you. Captain Chen surely knows what happens to a man who flinches from battle!”

The chiliarch fixed his gaze on Chen Siniu, who broke into a cold sweat and slowly sank to his knees.

Once he was properly kneeling, the chiliarch smiled faintly and pulled him back up: “Ah, it’s been difficult for me too — what they said down below, I won’t repeat it all to you. Keeping you safe cost me quite a bit of criticism, and those small-minded types up top gave me no end of grief over it. But so what? We’re both still here today, aren’t we, haha!”

Chen Siniu had no idea how to handle this kind of situation, nor this kind of warmth, and could only mumble apologies.

The chiliarch was unusually talkative today, holding the letter and reminiscing at length, cursing Tan Shiyuan for the better part of half an incense-stick’s time.

Finally, he handed over the letter, walked Chen Siniu out with a hand on his shoulder, saying as they went: “Ah, old brother Chen, that matter you asked me about — I’ve thought it over. Ah, it’s been difficult, truly difficult! Even with all my means, I can’t defy military orders. That Captain Li, how many years has he served under me? He’s got to go too this time. Ah, this is a hard business…”

At the gate, a cart was already waiting quietly outside the chiliarch’s office. Seeing him come out, the driver hurried over with a step-stool.

Chen Siniu had never been treated this way before — they were even sending him off by cart?

He was terrified! He refused outright to get in, clinging to the cart shaft and trying to kneel instead.

But the chiliarch stuffed the silver pouch and the letter together into his arms and pushed him toward the cart: “Old brother, don’t be afraid! We go back — this, I absolutely cannot accept. Ah, a person’s got to have conscience, don’t you think?”

Chen Siniu pleaded: “My lord, your humble servant has conscience, conscience indeed! All year round, your humble servant has conscience, my lord!!”

The chiliarch only laughed, pushing him forcefully into the cart, saying: “Yes, yes, I’ve always known about your conscience. Rest easy! I’ll handle the matter, I promise!”

Chen Siniu, still struggling, suddenly froze, gripping the cart frame and staring dumbly at the chiliarch, his voice full of pleading: “My lord, you — you — please, look at your humble servant’s conscience, please, whatever it takes, save your humble servant.”

He held out the silver pouch again, but the chiliarch took it and simply tossed it into the cart.

The chiliarch pointed at the letter: “Rest easy, old brother — this is a letter of recommendation to my brother-in-law, currently serving as a vice director in the Ministry of Works in Yandu. Just take this letter and go find him. You’re a seventh-rank valiant captain under my command, so at the Ministry of Works he’ll surely arrange you an equivalent rank — at the very least, a proper post of lower seventh rank, not a bit less than you deserve.”

Chen Siniu could hardly believe it, letting out an astonished “ah,” still staring at the chiliarch in confusion.

The chiliarch brushed the dust off his palms and said: “By the time you’re a proper official, Lord Chen, soaring to great heights — who knows, if your fortunes run well enough and you make it all the way to the imperial court, I might have to be the one sending you my conscience money instead! Well then, let’s part ways here, Lord Chen, old brother, safe travels!”

He gave a casual cupped-hand salute, slapped the mule’s rear, and watched Chen Siniu ride off, his face utterly bewildered.

Only once the cart was out of sight did the chiliarch spit, and, hands clasped behind his back, return to the rear courtyard of the chiliarch’s office.

The moment he stepped inside, he said to his wife: “Such a big matter, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The chiliarch’s wife merely smiled, tucking away the day’s haul of “conscience money” into a cabinet, before turning to him: “I figured he wasn’t coming anymore. Who knew he didn’t even know what was happening with his own family? Quite something — now that his family’s got a ladder straight to heaven, why would he still come begging the old lord?”

She lifted the teapot and refilled his cup: “Our chiliarch lost his little piggy bank today — not happy about it?”

The chiliarch didn’t take the tea, instead pulling his wife onto his lap: “Say ‘chiliarch’! No more ‘general’ these days. Hmph! I’ve got plenty of piggy banks — losing this one clattering coin bank is no loss, every time I have to smash it open to get the money out anyway, gets tiresome. But you look at that fellow’s sorry state — I genuinely like his nephew. Ah! That nephew’s nothing like this coward, not remotely the same breed!

Back under that fool Tan Er’s command, I wanted to poach him over, but no dice — Tan Shiyuan wouldn’t let go of anyone from the Long Blade Corps, could only let the old Tan family waste him. Now, the boy’s been noticed by His Majesty — well! That’s exactly the outcome he deserves. This chiliarch loves nothing more than a story like this — truly, our Emperor is wise and perceptive! Hahaha, that fool Tan Da, he’s really the death of me. Tomorrow when that old bastard Tan Shouyi comes through, heh heh! This chiliarch could fly straight to Yandu on the spot, my dear wife~!”

His wife wrapped her pale arms around the chiliarch, tugging at his beard, and the chiliarch yelped a string of complaints. He tried to swat his wife, but she dodged, laughing: “You send that fellow off to my brother, aren’t you afraid he’ll actually rise to greatness and turn around to bite you?”

The chiliarch grabbed hold of the rascal woman and gave her backside a few smacks, then laughed: “That petty wretch, wherever he ends up in the Ministry of War, I’d actually worry. But the Ministry of Works! With him — a former indentured servant, illiterate, can’t even do accounts, useless — and that’s the Ministry of Works’ Water Bureau he’s headed to. Once he’s on a civil official’s turf, two rounds of poor performance reviews, we’ll see how he manages. Soaring to greatness, my foot — that’ll be the death of him with joy.”

Chen Siniu had no idea he’d fallen right into someone else’s scheme. He only felt as though heaven itself had blessed him, and rode the whole way back in a daze, clutching the letter of recommendation, glancing now and then at the heavy silver pouch, until at last he couldn’t hold it in any longer and, as if finally released, burst into loud, unrestrained sobbing.

Chen Dasheng stayed at home for five days. On this final morning, Qiqian’er made breakfast, and he carried two bowls out to make his rounds visiting the neighbors.

Now that everyone had their own homes, this bunch of young men had each borrowed a set of bedding from little sister-in-law and rolled it up to carry back to their own places.

Once settled, people felt grounded — whatever their thoughts or plans had been, everything changed in an instant from before.

Previously, they’d lived day to day, eating their fill with no thought for tomorrow — as for marrying and starting families, with no elders around to press them and worry over it, the thought had never even occurred to them.

Now that little sister-in-law had told them that, once the realm settled down in a year or two, sooner or later they’d all need to become fathers, they secretly rejoiced, and threw themselves with all their might into fixing up their new homes — sweeping, patching roofs, repairing courtyard walls, each one working diligently.

Only Chen Dasheng had nothing but free time every day, so bored he nearly climbed the rafters.

Finding his restlessness thoroughly annoying, Qiqian’er sent him off to a hidden spot on Baiquan Mountain behind the estate, tasked with stripping elm bark and carrying it home each day.

The elm bark Chen Dasheng stripped, once dried and ground into powder, could be mixed with bean flour, wheat flour, and coarse flour for eating.

In times of war and famine, this kind of edible bark shouldn’t normally have survived untouched — except that Meng Wanquan and the others had set up camp in this area, so no one dared venture into the mountain behind them. Walking seven or eight li into the mountains, one would find a hidden spot with a substantial elm forest.

His wife knew far too much, which left Chen Dasheng rather uneasy. Since he was leaving today, he used the excuse of his neighborhood rounds to carry a bowl over to Meng Wanquan’s house, next door but one.

Meng Wanquan was indeed home, splitting firewood.

Plenty of men in the army played with blades — straight swords, curved sabers, waist blades, and Chen Dasheng’s own long blade — but no matter how skilled anyone was, none could match Meng Wanquan’s short-blade precision strikes.

A row of neatly cut round wood blocks sat on the ground. A foot-and-a-half-long short blade spun a flourish in his one-armed grip, then, the moment the handle settled into his hand, he lightly lifted it and struck down four times — with no wasted effort, it split into eight even wedges, each identical in size, the cut surface as smooth as if planed by a carpenter or sawed clean by a master sawyer.

“Great technique, brother.”

Chen Dasheng offered the compliment, set his bowl down on one of the round wood blocks, and crouched nearby to eat.

“What’s for breakfast?”

“Noodles.”

Seeing his own brother had come, Meng Wanquan was naturally pleased. He set his blade aside and crouched by the wood block too, picking up chopsticks to eat.

Between bites he said: “What great technique! A single arm makes wielding a long blade impossible, but chopping firewood’s still manageable — takes about one stroke’s worth of effort, and I can still scrape together a bowl of rice this way.”

He took another couple bites, then looked up at Chen Dasheng: “Go back and thank Little Hua for me. Say I owe him this favor. If he hadn’t pushed hard for me, never mind guarding the medicine storehouse — with this crippled arm of mine, I’d have been out of silver and packing my bags in no time.”

Chen Dasheng nodded, looking up: “We’re family, brothers — there’s plenty of time ahead for that.”

“When are you heading out?”

“After I finish eating. Next time back, I’ll need to check on things over there.”

“Can’t be as nerve-wracking as before — Yandu’s not even that far, half a day’s walk, an hour on a fast horse.”

“Mm.”

Both brothers had hearty appetites, and in no time their bowls — slightly smaller than washbasins — were licked clean of broth.

With meat, food tasted better. Having eaten, Meng Wanquan too was full of energy, bending to pick up his blade and continuing to chop firewood, while Chen Dasheng crouched nearby chatting idly.

Meng Wanquan had once been Chen Dasheng’s lead blade — the only one of his former lead blades who’d survived. Naturally, Chen Dasheng held him in high regard.

He said: “Brother, His Majesty granted our unit leaders burial land, said they’d be interred next spring. When the time comes, should us brothers pool some silver together, have someone deliver it back to help out their households?”

Meng Wanquan nodded without hesitation: “Sure! Heaven has eyes — His Majesty didn’t choose wrong this time. Go tell your wife, from my share, send fifty taels a year back to them. That’s about all we can manage for now — later, if things go well, we’ll do more, more pay means more help. Say, do you remember where their hometowns are?”

Chen Dasheng nodded at this: “You gave me the muster list, sure, but you never told me where home was for the ones before you — I know the later ones, at least.”

Meng Wanquan set down his blade, bent to gather an armful of dry firewood, and carried it inside. A moment later he came back out and said: “I don’t have your good head for remembering things. It’s a wonder I’m not like them, if not for losing this arm.”

Chen Dasheng just looked at him and smiled: “Brother, why are you piling up a whole room of firewood like this?”

Meng Wanquan laughed too: “Nothing much — all my money’s with your wife now, and this house is too big, feels wrong somehow if it’s not filled up a bit. It bugs me. So I figured, fine, I’ll pile up firewood, at least it settles my mind.”

The two brothers laughed together at that — and it wasn’t just Meng Wanquan; the others were the same, scouring the estate daily like wild animals, dragging home even unwanted millstones just to have something to fill their courtyards with.

Meng Wanquan wasn’t one to put on airs like the others, so he just piled up firewood instead.

The two of them weren’t men of many words. Meng Wanquan kept chopping for a while, then looked up, noticing Chen Dasheng hadn’t left yet, and asked, puzzled, setting down his blade and sitting beside him: “What’s up? Something you want to talk about?”

Chen Dasheng rubbed his nose and nodded — he did have something on his mind.

These past days, everything had been made easy for him, like a three-year-old — his wife combed his hair every morning, brought him food and drink, took care of everything for him top to bottom. His clothes smelled so nice, his blanket was so soft, his shoes fit so well, his food was always served warm — his whole body brimmed with energy, and he felt he needed to work hard, to put in his utmost effort to protect this good life.

But no matter how hard he tried, there was nowhere in that household for him to lend a hand. His wife had everything handled — he felt like a useless extra fixture, some crippled old man just drifting through his days.

If it weren’t for his wife sending him up the mountain to strip bark, he felt he might go mad.

Other men had wives too — why was his so different?

He treasured how impressive she was, yet her impressiveness left him unable to get a grip on things — it was a kind of sharp, dazzling capability different from his grandmother’s, one that truly drew admiration, yet also left him feeling lost, wanting to get closer but afraid to.

Chen Dasheng didn’t know how to put this feeling into words, so he’d come to find Meng Wanquan, who was smarter than him.

He tilted his head, looking up at the sky, and after a long, awkward pause said: “Brother, I, my wife — I just feel, she’s good, really good, but good as she is, I just can’t — I don’t know how to hold my ground with her? Do you think I’m just being ungrateful, having it too easy?”

He looked at Meng Wanquan earnestly: “I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. You get it?”

Meng Wanquan turned to look at him, then finally raised his arm and swatted him hard enough to make him stumble, laughing loudly. Once done laughing, he leaned back lazily against the wall behind him, thought for a moment, and said: “You haven’t figured it out? Your wife — she’s a bit like Tan Er.”

Chen Dasheng was startled: “What! Tan Er? Tan Shize?”

Meng Wanquan nodded firmly: “Mm, same kind of person — both hardworking, both strong-willed, neither willing to lose to anyone! Tan Er’s got real skill too, but he’s got no restraint, he’s showy, always wanting to outshine Tan Da. Your wife’s not like that — your wife’s got just as much skill, but she keeps it hidden. Both of you two were raised in the grip of a stern, dominant mother-figure — think about it, isn’t that the truth of it?”

Chen Dasheng didn’t understand — in his world, just managing to marry one wife was already an achievement; two wives in one household? That would be madness.

Seeing Chen Dasheng’s confusion, Meng Wanquan continued: “The day your wife arrived, I was there too, standing beside your grandmother. For many days after, I kept thinking about it — if I’d been bolder, if I’d taken the plunge, if I’d had your grandmother’s eye for people, your wife would’ve been my wife.”

Chen Dasheng was startled and glared at Meng Wanquan.

But Meng Wanquan just laughed easily: “You didn’t see it. Her stepmother was dragging her along like dragging a little chick by the neck. Hauled her right up in front of your grandmother, and the moment she opened her mouth, it was to sell her off.”

Hearing this, Chen Dasheng thought of his wife’s fierce, unyielding nature, and felt a stab of pain at the thought of her being humiliated like that.

Meng Wanquan sniffed: “In those great households, if you’re not born of the main wife, you’re no better than livestock. They can beat you if they please, kill you if they please. Whatever fire Tan Er had in him, however skilled he was — even he could be driven half-mad by it. Your wife just endured it, quietly — and that alone puts her far, far ahead of Tan Er. She endured all the way until her stepmother sold her off — you didn’t see it, but that day she turned around and dealt with her stepmother good and proper…”

Chen Dasheng hadn’t known any of this, and listened as Meng Wanquan recounted how Qiqian’er had dealt with her stepmother, how she’d turned the tables on her maternal family, squeezed them dry and used it to build up the Chen family’s fortunes — he was stunned. So my wife is far more formidable than I ever imagined.

Meng Wanquan was full of admiration, his tone practically reverent: “Hmph! That day… even after the deal was done, the woman still wasn’t satisfied, complained your wife was too thin — and that woman said, well, your wife can read and write, and only then did the deal go through. Heh~ for someone like your wife? Ten strings of cash? Fifty jin of grain? Dream on!

Someone like your wife would be worth ten thousand jin of grain and then some, but her stepmother had no idea — beyond knowing her letters, the girl had real ability in her. What kind of ruthless resolve must it take to hide something like that? If Master Cheng hadn’t stepped in and reminded everyone afterward, our grandmother might not even have thought to give her a proper marriage contract — the original agreement had been for a bill of sale, buying a person outright. Hmph! Someone like your wife — and your family dared to actually go and buy her?”

A cold sweat visibly broke out on Chen Dasheng’s forehead.

Meng Wanquan clapped him on the shoulder, his tone openly envious: “Brother, count yourself lucky. If she hadn’t kept all that ability hidden, would she ever have ended up in your family? You believe it or not, her stepmother could’ve traded her for a golden carriage and ridden off into the clouds back home instead.

No telling what that girl was thinking — maybe she just wanted a plain, honest household, simple people like us, somewhere she could actually live like a person, and that’s why she settled for us.

When someone like that comes in wanting to take charge, you let her take charge! You don’t get it, do you! You’re no match for her anyway! Count your blessings! Sure, at home she might act all high and mighty with the rest of us, going on and on — but that’s because we’re family! Outside your house, outside this lane, in front of outsiders, she won’t waste an extra word — hmph, so what, you got complaints? Want to take charge yourself? Dream on! You want to die or something? Hmph!”

Hearing this whole speech from Meng Wanquan, Chen Dasheng felt awkward, and looked up at his elder brother: “Brother, what are you even thinking? I just feel like she won’t let me do anything, it’s driving me crazy! I get home and just wander around all day, not knowing anything about the household, not consulted on anything — so what exactly do you think she wants from me?”

Meng Wanquan stood, arranged the round wood blocks back into place, spun the blade in a flourish, and struck down four times — the wood scattering with a crack — and said briskly: “What does she want! Be a son when she wants a son, be a grandson when she wants a grandson! Fawn over her at home, sweet-talk her, work hard for her on the kang! I don’t believe for a second she’d ever let you go! Idiot!”

Then, with a teasing grin, he said to Chen Dasheng: “Good brother? If you’re not satisfied, I’m willing! Give her to me, I’ll hand over my few hundred taels too, I’ll go be little sister-in-law’s grandson instead…”

Before he even finished, Chen Dasheng had leapt up and kicked him, shouting: “Nonsense! Dream on! I’m leaving!” With that he stormed off.

Meng Wanquan turned the scene over in his mind again, then finally straightened up the row of wood blocks and went at them with another round of chopping.

Right as he was putting in real effort, someone spoke softly, unexpectedly, beside him: “Brother Meng, how do you do that?”

Meng Wanquan startled, spinning around in alarm — no one there? He looked down and saw Qiqian’er crouched there, holding two empty bowls, staring fixedly at the wood on the ground.

She’d seen skill like this before — that eunuch Liao moved just like that, nothing wasted, one strike and — crack! Done!

And now Meng Wanquan too, a few strikes and — crack! Also done…

Meng Wanquan drew a sharp breath, his heart still pounding, and asked: “Little sister-in-law, when did you get here?”

Qiqian’er, crouched on the ground, lifted the bowls: “Just now — that pig went to deliver food and even broke two of our bowls, just got here as you were chopping this.”

She struggled to describe it, using her hand to mimic a blade, swiping down sharply: “Brother! How’d you do that? I can split wood too, no trouble at all, but not clean like yours — can’t get it this pretty. Brother Meng, how’d you do it?”

Meng Wanquan hadn’t expected this question at all, and just held up his blade: “This?”

Qiqian’er nodded eagerly: “Yes, exactly that. I figure you’ve got some trick to it. I’ve got a leg of lamb at home — teach me, and I’ll stew it for you as thanks.”

Meng Wanquan burst out laughing: “Little sister-in-law, you want to learn this from me? Your Choutou’s far better at this than I am.”

Qiqian’er shook her head: “He’s different — he uses his strength differently, not as clean and crisp as yours. I want to learn your way, that crack, and it just falls apart like that…”

She mimed it again, clearly captivated.

Chen Dasheng got home and sulked for a good while. He watched his wife head out and never come back. Slow as he was, he could still think things through eventually, and so, breaking into a cold sweat, he rushed out after her, and by the time he reached Meng Wanquan’s courtyard, Meng Wanquan was stacking wood blocks for her to play with — a chaotic pile already taller than a person.

Trying hard to feign indifference, Chen Dasheng stepped through the gate, hands clasped behind his back, and asked with forced casualness: “Heh~ what are you two up to? Qian’er?”

Qiqian’er glanced at him and went right back to studying the pile of wood.

Chen Dasheng tried again: “Oh! Playing with wood. Go play at home then, we’ve got wood at home too…”

“Stop bothering me. I’m listening to Brother Meng.”

Qiqian’er shot him a look and returned her focus to the wood.

Meng Wanquan, as pleased as if he’d been oiled with sheep fat, spoke to Qiqian’er with animation: “Little sister-in-law, back then, when I lost this arm, I thought that was it for me — back then I couldn’t even hold up a bowl. Later the higher-ups said, well, you’ve earned your service too, sending you home would be a bit unfair, so how about managing the wounded camp instead…”

Qiqian’er cut him off: “Too much rambling! Just tell me about the wood.”

Chen Dasheng nodded along in agreement — right, way too much rambling.

Meng Wanquan shot him a look and said: “Heh, well, that day it happened I was chopping wood too, and I noticed — there’s a point in the wood. Find that point, and no matter what you’re doing, it takes just one strike.”

Qiqian’er, clever as she was, still couldn’t quite grasp what this “point” meant.

Seeing they didn’t get it, Meng Wanquan pointed proudly at the pile of wood: “Little sister-in-law, pull out a few from the top.”

Qiqian’er stood, pulled a few pieces from the top, and looked at Meng Wanquan.

Meng Wanquan, playing the old scholar: “Didn’t fall, right?”

Qiqian’er nodded reluctantly: “Right.”

“Now pull a few from the middle.”

Qiqian’er went to pull pieces from the middle, and the stack toppled halfway.

Chen Dasheng cut in helplessly: “Brother, what exactly are you trying to say?”

Meng Wanquan ignored him and said to Qiqian’er: “Look here.”

He extended his foot and gave a kick to the base of the messy pile of firewood — a single piece shot out, striking the opposite wall, bouncing to the ground — and the whole tall stack came crashing down.

That particular piece of firewood wasn’t large at all — thin and small.

Qiqian’er stared at it for a long moment, her tone taking on genuine admiration: “Brother Meng, how did you kick it like that? How did you know which one was holding the whole thing up?”

Meng Wanquan bent down, picked up a thick piece of firewood and turned it over in his hand, laughing: “How’d I kick it, hard to say myself. I just found that with anything in this world, if you want to break something apart, you don’t need much extra effort — you find that support point, that spot, send your force there, and crack, it just falls apart… like this.”

He tossed the thick piece down, and in a flash drew his blade from his waist, spinning it twice around his wrist even as the firewood was still falling toward waist height, then lightly angled the blade edge against it with a push and a flick: “Like that — you don’t need much strength at all, and it’s split in two.”

The thick wood fell in two even halves on the ground.

He turned back to look at Chen Dasheng: “Back in the Long Blade Corps, when they were young and didn’t have much strength, this trick got some use too — when the armored cavalry charged, and they needed more than just a dodge, they’d find that point on the armor — no matter how thick the plating, find that point, angle the blade in, and the armor would just fall apart right then. Easier to strike after that — the man’s got no protection left either, also in two…”

He was about to say more, but saw Chen Dasheng had already clapped both hands over Qiqian’er’s ears and was pulling her away.

As he walked, he shot Meng Wanquan a glare: “Good going, telling her that! What’s she going to learn that for? Teach her something useful instead of this — she’s not going off to the front lines to fight…”

Qiqian’er let herself be led away, murmuring to herself the whole time, still fascinated: “Mm, a point? A support point, what kind of support?”

Chen Dasheng broke out in a cold sweat, his whole mind filled with the image of his wife swinging a blade and himself splitting cleanly in two.