The caravan crossed the mountain ridges and, by the second day, had reached the vicinity of a mountain town called Zhenba, now genuinely within Dai Mengwei’s territory.

For young Ning Ji, who intended to become the greatest fighter under heaven someday, this was the first time in his life he’d left Huaxia Army territory. Along the way he’d imagined all sorts of encounters — the martial world of storybooks, bloody duels, mountain bandits, having his identity exposed, fleeing for his life covered in blood, and all manner of stunning landscapes… But at least in these early days of the journey, none of it matched what he’d pictured.

The mountains and rivers weren’t especially beautiful; the difficult terrain was no different from Liangshan or Jianshan back in the southwest. Desolate mountain villages, filthy markets, inns reeking of horse dung, terrible food — these were scattered thinly along the road since leaving Huaxia Army territory. And there’d been no bandits or highwaymen either — even along that earlier rugged mountain path, no bandit stronghold guarded it, no scenes of murder or toll-extortion played out. On the narrow road into Zhenba, there were checkpoints manned by Dai Mengwei’s soldiers, collecting fees and inspecting papers, but they hadn’t given any trouble to Ning Ji, Lu Wenke, Fan Heng, and the others who’d come from the southwest.

It was nothing like the martial world he’d imagined.

“…Cao Silong deliberately defected and now serves as a middleman transporting goods from the southwest over here. That’s why this stretch of road between Cao’s and Dai’s territories is jointly protected by both sides. Even if bandits tried to set up camp along the way, they’d have been wiped out long ago. In times like these, big fish eat little fish, little fish eat shrimp — there’s no such thing as righteous heroes acting on heaven’s behalf…”

Lu Wenke and the others answered Ning Ji’s puzzlement this way.

There was no romance of wandering swordsmen here — what surrounded him instead was mostly the mundane business of getting by. Adjusting how much he ate, for instance, had been a persistent problem for the young Long family lad throughout the journey — not that he couldn’t bear it; what he ate each day was enough to keep him moving without trouble, but the change in habit left him chronically hungry for more. This sort of experience of “the martial world” was something he’d just have to swallow in silence, unable to tell anyone — and even if someone wrote it into a novel someday, no one would want to read it.

Beyond the hunger, he also stayed constantly on guard, mentally, over the fact that they were now in enemy territory, ready at any moment for combat or a bloody escape. But it was precisely this constant readiness that made him feel more and more bored, especially since the gatekeepers under Dai Mengwei hadn’t picked a single fight or given him any trouble — which left him with a frustrated sense of having nowhere to vent all his pent-up skill.

His initial fantasies about the martial world had largely fallen flat, but that didn’t mean he’d learned nothing useful in practical terms. From the daily chattering of the “Five Pedantic Scholars,” Ning Ji had gradually pieced together the general situation in Dai Mengwei’s territory. According to these men’s speculation, old Dog Dai maintained a righteous, dignified front while secretly selling off his own subjects to the southwest, colluding with local gentry and troops to skim the profits — thoroughly detestable, by their account.

But compared to the straightforward, satisfying morality of “the martial world” in stories, this reality proved far more complicated. By the rules of storybook “martial world” logic, those who trafficked people were naturally villains, those trafficked were naturally innocent victims, and righteous heroes who killed the traffickers would earn the gratitude of the innocent. But according to Fan Heng and the others, these “innocent victims” had actually agreed to be sold of their own will — unable to feed themselves, they’d voluntarily signed contracts of twenty or thirty years. Anyone who killed the traffickers would, in fact, be cutting off these people’s only means of survival.

The sold were willing, the traffickers were doing good deeds, and even the southwest — supposedly representing Huaxia — was actively buying up people, which was likewise a good deed. As for the possible great villain here, Duke Dai…

“Duke Dai’s territory is said to have issued a public notice forbidding anyone from selling his subjects to the southwest as slaves — violators are to be punished…”

And so, in this first month after leaving Huaxia Army territory, Ning Ji came to deeply appreciate the truth of the saying: “Better to travel ten thousand miles than read ten thousand books.”

The world in storybooks simply wasn’t accurate. It really did take getting out and seeing things firsthand to understand.

The caravan pressed onward, each person with their own purpose. By now Ning Ji understood that scholars who’d already decided to seek out Dai Mengwei generally took the most convenient route through Hanzhong from the southwest, following the Han River to seek official posts in cities like Ankang. Dai was now the acknowledged leader among the empire’s Confucian scholars, and he treated any scholar of reputation and ability with considerable courtesy, usually finding them some official post.

As for Fan Heng, Lu Wenke, Chen Junsheng, and the rest of the “Five Pedantic Scholars,” though they spoke of Dai Mengwei with respect, they harbored private doubts as well. After discussion in the southwest, they’d decided to investigate his territory firsthand once they arrived — such an experience would give them a broader understanding of the world beyond what others had. The caravan might well be here to buy people in Duke Dai’s territory; though they said little of it openly, they were all secretly paying close attention to the matter.

Zhenba County remained a mountain town without much of a population, but compared to the mountain paths they’d passed through earlier, several newly built villages were now visible. These villages sat in the gaps between mountains, surrounded by newly constructed walls and fences, with some blank-eyed villagers watching the travelers on the road from within.

“Look at those new fences,” Lu Wenke said, pointing out the scene to Ning Ji and explaining its significance. “This shows that even though they went through famine, the officials and elders assigned here still managed to get the villagers to do the work. That’s actually no small achievement. It proves that even with insufficient resources, there’s still order here from top to bottom.”

“So what if there’s order?” Ning Ji asked.

“That’s the essence of good governance,” Fan Heng said, leaning in from the side. “When the Jurchens came, all the order in this region was thrown into chaos. Zhenba was originally home to fierce mountain folk; when the western army swept through, they sent Han troops to fight them down, killing large numbers, burning the city. After Duke Dai took over, he redistributed the population, divided the region into zones, and appointed officials and respected elders to run things. Little Long, at that point, what was the biggest problem facing them? Actually, it was that there wasn’t enough food. And when there isn’t enough food, what happens?”

Fan Heng looked at Ning Ji, who thought for a moment. “Rebellion?”

“Exactly. Everyone knows hunger drives people to rebel,” Fan Heng said with a smile. “But how does rebellion actually come about? Think about it — in a place, a village, if too many people starve to death, and the officials lose their authority and run out of options, that village collapses. The survivors become refugees, wandering aimlessly. And if more and more villages fall into that state, you get large-scale refugee crises, and order breaks down entirely. But think about it the other way — if each village only loses a few people, does it really spiral out of control like that?”

“…” Ning Ji stared, wide-eyed.

“Duke Dai saved several million people from the Jurchens’ hands. In the early days he still had authority, and using that authority he divided his subjects into layers, carving out hundreds, even thousands, of separate zones. Once those village zones were established, people within them weren’t permitted to relocate freely. Each village had respected local elders overseeing it; groups of villages had officials above them; above the officials, troops — responsibility delegated layer by layer, in orderly fashion. That’s precisely why, from last year through this year, despite the famine here, no major uprising has occurred.”

Fan Heng grew quite pleased with himself discussing this. Lu Wenke added from the side:

“Little Long, this kind of layered delegation sounds simple — the old imperial bureaucracy operated the same way in principle — but usually the quality of officials at each level varies wildly, and once something goes wrong, it spirals completely out of control. But this time, under Duke Dai’s layered delegation, there’s real skill in it — ‘governing a great state is like cooking a small fish,’ as the saying goes. Everything has its order, everyone their place, everyone their duty. That’s why scholars in the southwest have lately taken to saying Duke Dai carries the bearing of the ancient sages — he’s using the ‘old ways’ to counter the southwest’s rebellious ‘new ways.’ There’s something to that.”

Ning Ji frowned. “Everyone in their place, everyone their duty — so the common people’s place is to die quietly without causing trouble?” The nascent stirrings of human-rights thinking within the Huaxia Army had already taken root in him; though he wasn’t much of a student, when it came to matters like this, he could still find the crux of the issue.

Lu Wenke waved a hand. “Now, Little Long, don’t be so extreme. I’m just saying there’s a certain logic to it. When Duke Dai took over these people, the situation was already extremely difficult. That he managed to stabilize things using this method shows real ability — someone else in his place might have struggled to achieve even this much. If Duke Dai hadn’t handled it well, chaos would have broken out, and far more people would have died here — like the Hungry Ghost Rebellion back in the day, spiraling completely out of control.”

“But people still starved to death.”

“In chaotic times, people naturally die. Duke Dai decided who would die — cruel as that sounds — but didn’t the southwest go through a famine of its own back then too? Since he has the ability to minimize deaths in chaos, once order is restored, he’ll naturally be able to give everyone a better life — scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants each fulfilling their role, the widowed, orphaned, and childless all cared for… This is precisely the ideal the ancient sages envisioned…”

“The Huaxia Army fought the Jin dogs head-on in the northwest, and only starved after relocating to the southwest. Has this Dai fellow ever fought the Jin dogs? How can you compare the two? The Jin dogs died in far greater numbers than we did back in the northwest!”

Ning Ji objected, clearly annoyed. Fan Heng waved his hands with a smile, trying to smooth things over.

“Now, now, easy does it. Little Long is from the southwest, after all — it’s only natural he’d look down on the situation here in Dai Mengwei’s territory, nothing worth arguing over. Little Long, just keep this in mind: Dai Mengwei has his flaws, sure, but he also has real ability in how he handles things. Plenty of people see his ability the way we do — some agree, plenty don’t. We’re just here to see for ourselves; no need for us to squabble among ourselves. Here, have some candy, have some candy…”

Fan Heng smoothed things over, and Lu Wenke, laughing, said no more on the matter. As a traveling companion, Ning Ji was still young, and with his likable face and ability to read and write, the Five Pedantic Scholars mostly treated him like a nephew, so naturally they weren’t going to get truly angry with him over this.

Ning Ji accepted the candy. Mindful that he was deep in enemy territory and shouldn’t display too much “pro-Huaxia” sentiment, he suppressed his temper. As long as he didn’t view Dai Mengwei as a good man outright — settling instead on “capable villain” — everything remained perfectly consistent in his mind.

That day the group entered Zhenba, only to discover that this once-remote mountain town now had a fair number of merchants gathered, with several newly built inns in the county seat as well. By the time they settled into an inn, it was already evening, and each of them had their own private concerns — the caravan members, for instance, might be meeting a contact here for “big business,” while the scholars wanted to nail down the truth about the human trafficking situation, quietly making inquiries among the caravan members too. Over dinner at the inn that night, Fan Heng and the others struck up conversation with another group of travelers, and picked up a good deal of outside news in the process — one piece of which suddenly snapped the bored-for-over-a-month Ning Ji fully alert.

“…Word is that this September, the Fair Party is inviting heroes from across the realm to a grand gathering in Jiangning, to select a leader of the martial world — the invitation scrolls have already gone out across the land!”

One of the travelers being questioned at the inn brought this up, immediately sparking uproar and excitement among everyone nearby. Lu Wenke and Fan Heng, who’d come from Chengdu, exchanged glances, chewing over the implications of this news. Ning Ji’s mouth fell open in excitement for a moment — until he heard someone say, “Wait, isn’t that the same time as the southwest’s martial arts tournament?”

Someone answered hesitantly: “…The Fair Party and the Huaxia Army are basically one and the same, aren’t they?”

Two words flashed through Ning Ji’s mind at that: how despicable.

Since the Huaxia Army’s defeat of the Jurchens in the southwest last year, the Fair Party had been expanding its influence in the eastern reaches of the realm at an almost inconceivable pace, already squeezing Tie Yan and Wu Qimei’s territories around Lin’an to the point of suffocation. Amid this expansion, neither side — the Huaxia Army nor the Fair Party — had ever made any public statement or clarification about their relationship. But for the “Pedantic Scholars” who’d been through the southwest, having read a great many newspapers, they naturally had some understanding of it.

And for Ning Ji, raised within the inner circle of Huaxia Army family, he understood even more clearly that He Wen and the Huaxia Army might never become true friends — there was, at present, no collusion of any kind between the two sides.

“Last year the Huaxia Army held the greatest martial arts tournament under heaven, drew in the crowds, then held a military parade, executed people, and convened the founding assembly of the People’s Government, gathering the goodwill of the whole realm.” Chen Junsheng, calm-faced, picked at his food as he spoke.

“This time it looks like the Fair Party wants to copy that formula, riding the Huaxia Army’s momentum upward. And what’s more, the Huaxia Army’s tournament is set for around the eighth and ninth months — clearly it’s happening again this year — and the Fair Party has deliberately picked September as well, letting everyone assume the two are one and the same. This way they can undercut the Huaxia Army on one hand while borrowing its fame on the other. When the time comes, people from the west head to the southwest, heroes from the east head to Jiangning — He Wen has real nerve, not even afraid of genuinely offending Mr. Ning of the southwest.”

Fan Heng, eating as he spoke, offered his own leisurely commentary on the affairs of the realm. “After all, the world is vast — why should heroes exist only in the southwest? With the realm in such upheaval now, these towering figures will keep emerging one after another.”

Lu Wenke said, “Speaking of which, young Long here happens to be headed to Jiangning himself — what perfect timing, to run into such a grand event.”

“Yeah, I’m going,” Ning Ji answered in a muffled voice, then buried his head in his food, thoroughly displeased.

The scholars, having touched on the topic of “heroes of the realm,” moved on to other matters — the coming great war between Dai Mengwei, Liu Guangshi, and Zou Xu, or the possible moves of the boy-emperor down in the far southeastern coastal region. Some of it was new information, much of it familiar rehash.

Ning Ji listened quietly, and that night, found himself unable to sleep easily.

Having spent so many years hearing tales of the martial world within the Huaxia Army, having grown up on stories of grand heroic gatherings, he’d genuinely looked forward to such things once he left the southwest. Who could have known this sudden news would carry such a disgusting scheme behind it — that traitor He Wen, having learned from his father on one hand, was now deliberately scheming to undercut the Huaxia Army and steal its thunder on the other!

If the Fair Party’s earlier independence had simply been him acting on his own out of necessity — not taking orders from the southwest, but also not coming here to cause trouble — that would have been fair enough, each going their separate way. But to deliberately schedule this so-called Hero Gathering in September was simply too disgusting. He Wen had lived in the southwest for so long, had even fallen in love with Sister Jingmei, and had been allowed to leave in peace afterward — and this backstabbing move made him even more detestable than Zou Xu!

Absolutely infuriating!

And this so-called Hero Gathering was being held in Jiangning, of all places! Clearly a deliberate move, knowing full well Jiangning was his father’s hometown — practically announcing to everyone that the Fair Party had ties to the Huaxia Army, milking it for even more advantage. Shameless!

Once he got to Jiangning, forget about sparing him out of respect for Sister Jingmei — he’d just cut He Wen down on the spot!

That night he lay there stewing over He Wen, his face flushed red with anger, and as a result found himself caring rather less about Dai Mengwei’s business of selling a few people. It was near dawn before he finally got to sleep, and not long after, he was woken by commotion outside the inn. By the time it reached inside the inn itself, the sky was just beginning to lighten; he pushed open the window and saw troops surrounding the inn from every direction.

More than a month after running away from home, danger had finally arrived. Though he had no idea what was happening, Ning Ji grabbed his bundle on instinct, and under cover of the fading darkness, scrambled up onto the roof, leaping to another nearby rooftop before the encirclement was complete.

The troops entered the inn, knocking open doors one by one and seizing people; no one offered any resistance under the circumstances. Ning Ji watched from above as members of the caravan were led out one by one, including caravan leader Lu, followed by Lu Wenke, Fan Heng, and the rest of the “Five Pedantic Scholars,” then Wang Jiang and his daughter Wang Xiuniang — it seemed they were checking names off the guest registry, and the people being seized were, indeed, exactly the caravan he’d been traveling with.

Ning Ji watched from a nearby rooftop, utterly baffled. Why? Had he been discovered? But even after seizing everyone else, they didn’t seem to be conducting any particular search for a missing young boy. So why arrest the caravan he was with at all? The Five Pedantic Scholars hadn’t done anything wrong…

As the sun rose that day, he stood in the morning light, thoroughly unable to make sense of it.

His traveling companions had been seized for reasons unknown; his own identity mattered too much to risk carelessly. In theory, the safest course now would be to find some way to disguise himself, slip out of the city, and put as much distance between himself and this place as possible. But after much deliberation, given how tense the atmosphere was in Dai Mengwei’s territory, a fifteen-year-old boy walking around alone would likely draw even more attention. And he had to admit — after traveling together this long, he’d grown genuinely fond of fools like Lu Wenke among the Five Pedantic Scholars. Thinking of the brutal interrogation they might face in prison, he found he couldn’t just leave them to it.

The defenses and patrols in this mountain town didn’t seem especially tight — maybe he could find a way tonight to sneak into the prison and take a look. He’d received extensive training in the Huaxia Army in espionage and infiltration; dealing with these local yokels shouldn’t, in theory, prove too difficult.

After turning it over for a while, and confirming there was no unusual citywide manhunt underway, he bought a cloth bag of flatbreads and steamed buns and spent the day scouting around the county government offices while eating. By mid-afternoon, as he sat by the roadside, contentedly munching on a steamed bun, a group of people suddenly emerged from the county office gate not far off.

These were exactly the people arrested that morning — Wang Jiang and Wang Xiuniang, the Five Pedantic Scholars, and several other travelers who’d been with the caravan. They now appeared to have been released by the officials; a young official trailing behind them, nodding along self-importantly, exchanged a few words with them before cupping his hands in farewell — the atmosphere seemed remarkably cordial.

Ning Ji ran along, waited at a street corner, and as the group drew near, sidled up to them. He heard Fan Heng and the others sighing with admiration: “Truly a just magistrate…”

“Duke Dai’s family upbringing runs deep…”

He ran a few more steps. “What happened, what happened? Why were you arrested? What’s going on?”

Fan Heng and the others, spotting him, were overjoyed with surprise. “Little Long! You’re all right!”

“Thank goodness, we thought something had happened to you…”

Everyone crowded around him, chattering. Since the whole caravan had been arrested together, and Ning Ji had been nowhere to be found, they’d assumed something dreadful had happened to the boy — they’d specifically asked the magistrate about it before being released. Ning Ji explained he’d gone out in the middle of the night to use the outhouse, then things had gotten chaotic, and after hiding, he’d seen everyone being taken away — but now that everyone was safe, it all worked out for the best.

“…So what actually happened? Why were we arrested?”

Ning Ji asked. Fan Heng and the others exchanged glances, then sighed and shook their heads. “Leader Lu and the rest of the caravan are in real trouble this time.”

Lu Wenke said, “Leader Lu got greedy and made a secret arrangement to come here and buy up a large batch of people, assuming the whole thing had Duke Dai’s tacit approval, and that with his connections, he was bound to succeed. Who’d have thought… this young Magistrate Dai turned out to be a truly just official. Once the matter was uncovered, he had everyone arrested — Leader Lu’s been sentenced to execution, and the rest have all received punishment.”

“What? They’re really executing him…” Ning Ji was somewhat taken aback.

“You saw the show of force yourselves — of course it’s real. Duke Dai’s been cracking down hard on human trafficking lately. Leader Lu’s being punished to the fullest extent, and they say he’ll be executed publicly tomorrow. We’ll stay another day and see for ourselves… ah, only now do I realize the rumors about Duke Dai selling people were nothing but slander, groundless nonsense. Even if some unscrupulous merchants really did such wicked things, it has nothing to do with Duke Dai at all.”

“Ah, we really were too hasty in our judgment — careless words that sullied a sage’s good name. We should take this as a lesson…”

The group spent another night in the county seat, and the next day, under overcast skies that looked ready to rain, they gathered at the county’s execution ground and watched as the young Magistrate Dai from the day before led Leader Lu and the others out. Leader Lu knelt before the stone platform while Magistrate Dai loudly denounced their crime of human trafficking, along with Duke Dai’s determination and resolve to stamp it out.

This young Magistrate Dai was named Dai Zhen, a nephew of Dai Mengwei’s clan. Fan Heng and the others, hearing this, praised at length how well Duke Dai managed his household and taught his kin.

Under the overcast sky, with the crowd looking on, the executioner raised his blade and struck off the weeping Leader Lu’s head in a single stroke. The people who’d been rescued from him also stood watching nearby; having already received Magistrate Dai’s promise of “proper resettlement,” they now knelt on the ground, crying out praise for the just magistrate, kowtowing repeatedly.

Ning Ji watched this scene, reaching up to scratch his head in bewilderment.

More than a month after leaving home, he suddenly felt he understood nothing at all anymore.

This Dai Mengwei… could he actually be a good man after all?

He’d already mentally braced himself for a killing spree — so now what was he supposed to do? Wasn’t he left without even the smallest reason to lose his temper?