In September, when the Guanzhong plains were still lush with vegetation, the ancient city of Shuofang had already received its first snowfall. Heavy snow fell in flurries, covering the entire grassland. This year life on the grasslands wasn’t easy. First there was a great drought, followed immediately by locusts. Though not as terrifying as the locust plague in Guanzhong, many cattle and sheep were still lost. When the grass wasn’t good, naturally the livestock wouldn’t be in good condition either. Xie Li suppressed the most vocally defiant tribes, using their heads to send notices in all directions. The grasslands quieted down—there were no other voices. Just as Xie Li was feeling smug and satisfied, his dear younger brother Tuli had already secretly signed a covenant with the Great Tang…

Li Jing was nowhere to be seen, Li Ji was also nowhere to be seen, and even Chai Shao, the big boss of ancient Shuofang City, had disappeared from everyone’s sight. The Great Tang court was entirely peaceful. Everyone was busy preparing for the birthday celebration of Retired Emperor Li Yuan. No one paid attention to those missing people—they all assumed they’d gone hunting in the Qinling Mountains for Li Yuan. This year’s harvest wasn’t good, so surely people were allowed to use wild game to contribute a gift?

Yun Ye was running around frantically in Shuofang. Who could have imagined that the dignified Retired Emperor would specifically use military dispatches to demand debt payment from thousands of miles away in Shuofang? It was just a few taels of gold! And he’d calculated the interest clearly too. This was no longer compound interest—this was whale-turning interest! Why should I be charged for your frequent nighttime urination? If you’d look for fewer beauties, would you still have frequent urination?

Chai Shao’s expression was strange, and the Xue brothers, Xue Wanche and Xue Wanren, looked wooden—probably already stupefied.

This was all Old He’s doing. His family’s caravan had paraded ostentatiously throughout Chang’an City, saying that the barbarians beyond the borders were stupid and had lots of money, and were as easy to deceive as could be. Once the legend of trading one bolt of hemp cloth for three cows got out, the markets of Chang’an were in an uproar. The He family had long since fallen into decline, so naturally they didn’t care about noble dignity. They simply tore off their face and became merchants, which, while making everyone envious, inevitably added a few points of contempt.

Old He was strictly following Yun Ye’s advice—which was not to eat alone. Having already grabbed a big chopstick-full of fatty meat and eaten until oil dripped from his mouth, he naturally had to pull poor brothers along to eat meat together. Only when there were many people could this business last long.

Everyone who knew Old He understood that this fat wastrel didn’t have such vision, nor such courage. When they learned that the famously notorious first of the Three Scourges, Yun Ye, was in Shuofang, they all shut their mouths, only sending fast horses to contact their family’s children in Shuofang, wanting to know the details.

Zhangsun always felt jealous when she saw Yun Ye making money. This time it wasn’t good to have Li Er pressure Yun Ye, because Li Er had played the villain too many times. Too many times would damage their relationship. That kid would probably stay far away from the palace even if he were in Chang’an now. Last time the Retired Emperor mentioned Yun Ye owing him money, he seemed somewhat disappointed, saying this kid doesn’t enter the palace anymore and has probably long forgotten this old man.

Debts must be repaid—it’s only natural and right. That’s how the military dispatch demanding debt from Yun Ye came about.

The imperial family always wanted to stick their fingers in everything—this was their innate desire for control acting up. Fortunately, Zhangsun now knew to use the Retired Emperor as a front, slightly concealing her intense desire for money. This showed she hadn’t yet fallen to the point of having no scruples.

The Great Tang had tens of thousands of officials, yet she seemed to have targeted only Yun Ye to exploit. In the eyes of Chai Shao and the Xue brothers, this was a sign of favor. The extortion letter written like a family message almost made them collapse. The imperial family didn’t treat Yun Ye as an outsider! This kind of intimate relationship couldn’t be bought with money. Chai Shao, Li family’s son-in-law, even felt a trace of jealousy in his heart. He’d never been extorted by Li Yuan or Li Er—he considered this a kind of happiness.

Yun Ye didn’t think so. He was always being bullied, which filled his chest with rage. Since coming to the Great Tang, he’d encountered nothing but powerful people. Although he could also abuse those weaker than himself, considering himself a little higher in level than these barbaric ancient people, he really couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even when kicking people’s butts in Longyou, he wouldn’t forget to give those people some compensation. Zhangsun gave no compensation—the term “equal exchange” didn’t exist in her dictionary.

After Yun Ye calmed himself down, he continued reading that extortion letter: Heard there’s a type of purple lamb skin on the grasslands, with a light and soft texture. Made into a cloak, it appears noble and dignified. Have him keep an eye out in Shuofang and get a hundred or so pieces to make several garments back home. There’s also a medicinal herb called Epimedium that has body-strengthening effects—dig up several cartloads to cook porridge with back home. As for compensation, well, deduct it from those gambling debts. For the remainder, just randomly grab a few carts of bezoar—which the grasslands have in uncountable quantities—to make up the numbers, and the old man would reluctantly accept it. As an elder, suffering some losses at the hands of juniors is only appropriate.

Reading this, Yun Ye immediately wanted to faint. Epimedium was easy—there was plenty on the grasslands. The old man could eat it like a meal for all he cared. When they came, Sun Simiao had people dig up a lot, which could satisfy the need. Aphrodisiacs—what man doesn’t need them? Yun Ye only had seven or eight pieces of purple lamb skin on hand. That stuff was too rare. The grasslands didn’t produce purple lamb skin—only some caravans from the Western Regions had it, and the price was considerable. Even these few pieces were bought by Yun Ye through gritted teeth, intending to take them back to make several hats for Grandmother, Xinyue, and the others. As for bezoar, Old He had slaughtered several thousand cattle and only found less than ten pounds of bezoar. You want several cartloads?

“Why should Marquis Yun worry? The Retired Emperor never asks subordinates for things. This time the Retired Emperor has spoken—it’s not just for Marquis Yun alone to hear, but for all fifty thousand soldiers of Shuofang to hear. Being able to share the Retired Emperor’s concerns is the unshirkable responsibility of us subordinates. Not to mention just a few carts of common items—even if he wanted Xie Li’s head, we should exert all our strength. Purple lamb skin? Bezoar? This old man doesn’t believe that thoroughly searching a thousand miles around Shuofang, we can’t gather these gifts!”

Chai Shao was a good person! A truly good person—anyone who could automatically shoulder the blame was a good person. He knew he wanted to show off in front of his father-in-law, and was somewhat jealous of Yun Ye. When his father-in-law wanted things, he didn’t ask him, the son-in-law, but instead asked Yun Ye, this unrelated outsider. This made him feel marginalized.

The Xue brothers were even more eager to perform. Xue Wanche had already started walking out, saying to Chai Shao as he walked: “Commander, please sit peacefully. This subordinate will make a trip around the hundred or so surrounding tribes. A mere few carts of gifts is nothing difficult.”

Yun Ye didn’t want to flatter the emperor, but he couldn’t stop others from doing so, especially this kind of flattery that could solve problems for his own family—Yun Ye felt the more the better.

“General Xue, on this trip, please also bring back some cattle and sheep. Our dried meat reserves are still somewhat insufficient,” Yun Ye chased after him and shouted to Xue Wanche.

With the gifts settled, his heart was naturally happy. This military dispatch was Li Yuan’s command, the first time in two years he’d walked out of the imperial palace. Zhangsun understood, Li Er understood, and Li Yuan also understood—this was them trying to reconcile, trying to trust each other mutually. The method was just somewhat crude, of course from Yun Ye’s perspective. The several figures in the palace probably wouldn’t consider a small marquis’s difficulties. They just needed this opportunity, and Yun Ye was the only candidate who could provide this platform.

Big shots—solving big shots’ troubles was truly deadly. The Incident at Xuanmen Gate had completely extinguished the Li family’s familial affection, so much so that from Li Er onward until its demise, the Tang Dynasty’s succession of the throne was always filled with bloodshed. When there’s a cart ahead, there will be ruts behind, so Li Zhi continued killing, Wu Zetian continued killing, and then when it came to Li Longji, there weren’t many brothers left to kill, so he built the Sixteen Princes’ Mansion and raised his brothers like pigs.

Li Er killed his elder brother, killed his younger brother, killed his son, killed his daughter—his heart was probably full of holes, wasn’t it? If a normal person encountered these things and didn’t become a madman or a pervert, that would be strange. Under these circumstances, Li Er actually became the Heavenly Khagan—one couldn’t help but admire his strength. Or perhaps he was simply a naturally cold-blooded person.

Old Zhuang and the others wouldn’t let Yun Ye go out alone, especially in Shuofang, this beacon border city. At most he could come to the city wall and look at the great grasslands from afar. After the snow, the world between heaven and earth was a vast expanse of white, reflecting harsh white light. A few withered grasses struggled to poke their heads out, only to be immediately carried off by several magpies to decorate their new homes. Wild rabbits plowed furrows through the snow—probably starving, they didn’t even care about the eagles overhead, just努力ly searching for edible grass seeds.

No more supplies came from Guanzhong. Three feet of heavy snow had cut off all traffic. Only warhorses could walk with difficulty through the snow. Xue Wanche’s inspection this time wouldn’t be easy, but with his burning ambition to curry favor with the emperor, he would certainly overcome these small troubles before him.

The military camp was now chaotic. Soldiers wore everything they could put on their bodies. Each person looked like a beast from primordial times—somewhat clumsy, but more often ferocious.

The army Chai Shao led was the Li family’s founding military force, which included five hundred Dark Armored cavalry. Having only seen them in history textbooks before, now seeing them in person gave Yun Ye a detailed understanding of this most perfect killing machine of the cold weapons era. Full body iron armor, also called Thirteen Armors, with two bright heart-protecting mirrors on the chest covering vital points. Not only did the people wear heavy armor, even the horses wore full body armor. Yun Ye stepped forward and lifted it—very heavy. The iron protective gear for both man and horse weighed at least eighty pounds. The Dark Armored cavalrymen weren’t particularly large in stature, yet bearing heavy armor they were invincible under heaven—who knew what the principle was.

As an idler in the military camp, he was welcome everywhere. Wherever he went, people greeted him with smiling faces, which greatly displeased Daoist Sun who was working hard. This officer gave an exquisite curved sword, that officer gave a belt inlaid with large chunks of gold and silver, and several burly soldiers gave the Marquis a delicate wooden box. At a glance, it was made of sandalwood, heavy in hand. Unable to decline, he had to accept it, then ordered rewards of some wine and food for these soldiers, naturally making everyone happy.

Yun Ye always felt there was something strange about the soldier who gave him the box. Returning to his quarters, he dug out the wooden box from the pile of gifts. Opening it, he was greatly shocked—inside the wooden box was actually a Luban Lock, and a twelve-column one at that! Yun Ye was very familiar with this thing. At the factory, he’d often used company materials to make these small items. He’d even machined a set of classic six-column Luban Locks on a lathe—infinitely ingenious inside. He hadn’t expected to see it here, giving him a sense of being separated from another world.

He ordered Old Zhuang to find those soldiers, but the several men had disappeared without a trace.

This was the first time Yun Ye had encountered such a strange situation. Chang’an had no Luban Locks. When making mahjong, Yun Ye had investigated the Great Tang toy market—there was no such thing. Who had sent it?

Pressing down the first lock column and moving aside the second, Yun Ye casually unlocked the Luban Lock and discovered a slip of paper tucked in the gap at the center of the Luban Lock. Opening it to look, only three characters were written on it: Bai Yujing.