The night after arriving in Zizhou, he dreamed of his sister, who had already died.

That had happened over ten years ago.

The second time the Jurchens marched south, it left countless families broken and scattered. The Tang family had been a small landholding household near Daming Prefecture, once fairly well-off. During the first Jurchen invasion, thanks to the scorched-earth evacuation measures the Bamboo Press had helped the chancellor’s office carry out, they had managed to evacuate in time and avoided serious losses. But this time, they had no such luck.

Their parents died quickly amid the chaos of the marauding troops, and what belongings they carried were looted clean. Great crowds of people fled south, driven on by the ravages of war. Tang Minjie, who had studied some, and whose mind worked quickly, took his sister Tang Bao’er and set out for Little Cangriver in the northwest.

Right and wrong, in the human world, are often impossible to define cleanly when faced with so many tangled circumstances. Even many years later, with a far more mature mind, Tang Minjie found it hard to say for certain whether his thinking back then had been clear, or whether choosing a different path might have let them survive. But in any case, once people make a decision, they have to face the consequences.

The journey from Daming Prefecture to Little Cangriver ran over a thousand li, and the two siblings, who had never faced the complicated affairs of the world before, encountered all manner of hardship along the way: the ravages of war, mountain bandits, refugees, beggars… The money on them ran out quickly, they were beaten, they witnessed plague, they nearly died along the road, though they also received the kindness of strangers here and there. In the end, what finally caught up with them was hunger…

His sister starved to death. Before she died, all she wanted was to eat a meat pastry…

In all the countless hours since, he would always find himself returning to that stretch of road. Back then he’d still had a knife on him. Though war and famine had spread everywhere and corpses littered the roads, he could, in theory, have killed someone for food — but at seventeen, he hadn’t had the nerve. He could also have cut flesh from his own body — from his backside, say — he’d actually considered it more than once, but in the end he’d never found the courage for that either…

His sister starved to death on the road, and he went on with a few other refugees, eventually reaching Little Cangriver. Because he’d had some schooling, he was assigned clerical work, and he also sat in on some classes there, and finally came to understand one truth:

When the moment comes, you have to be willing to act boldly.

If he had only been able to bring himself to do it back then — whether to someone else, or to himself — his sister might not have had to die…

Waking from his dream, it was somewhere around dawn. Lu Mingfang spoke to him:

“Anything you’d like me to see to? A sister waiting to be married off, say — want me to go check on her for you when I’m back?”

“You’re not a good fit for that. A man who runs around with his head on the chopping block every day — I’d hate to make her a widow.”

“So you really do have a sister?”

Lu Mingfang’s eyes had lit up then, a foolish, curious look on his face.

In the end, it was I who came back…

……

As the morning bell rang out, the eastern sky broke into the glow of dawn. The escort party reached the road south of Zizhou, where they met up with a convoy of carts returning to Chengdu and hitched a ride.

The convoy, attached to the Huaxia First Military Industries, rolled along the broad, busy highway, passing through fields freshly cleared of their autumn harvest, through the lushly forested Longquan Mountains, great banks of white cloud drifting overhead in the wind. Sitting in the cart as a prisoner, he occasionally caught snatches of conversation — the Bamboo Press’s reorganization, the war brewing in the Central Plains, the deal with Liu Guangshi, He Wen’s detestable behavior, the workers of Chengdu — every one of these concepts felt foreign to him.

What remained most familiar in his memory was still the ice and snow of the north; even in a world without ice and snow, that stretch of sky and earth still felt cold and forbidding to him.

But the road before him now was wide and open. Years ago, when he’d left the Liangshan territory and traveled north through Chengdu and Jianmen Pass, this land hadn’t yet belonged to the Huaxia Army, and there had been no road so broad as this.

On the eighth day of the seventh month of the second year of the Huaxia calendar, Tang Minjie returned to Chengdu from the north. Waiting to receive him was his old junior schoolmate, Peng Yueyun.

What followed was an interrogation.

Zhang Village.

The gentle light of stars and moon blanketed the land.

In the hall at the northern end of the village, a wedding banquet was underway — the union was between Du Peng-peng, fourth son of Du Sha, and Su Xiaoxian, daughter of Su Wending. Both families counted among the more prominent households in Zhang Village, and so, though the standard of frugality was maintained, the banquet was still a lively affair. Su Tan’er had brought people to help arrange things, and Ning Yi himself made a brief appearance.

Lin Jingmei, her hair tied back into a long ponytail, was busy in the kitchen cooking with a few of her sworn sisters.

Ever since the Huaxia Army had killed the emperor and risen in rebellion, material shortages had persisted for over ten years. By now, though the rapid development in Chengdu had brought with it something of a taste for luxury, Zhang Village, kept under Ning Yi’s watch, still maintained relatively simple, unpretentious customs. The wedding banquet, lively as it was, hadn’t brought in any grand chefs from elsewhere, nor were the dishes especially extravagant. Having grown up at Ning Yi’s side for over ten years, and having been taken in as his adopted daughter, Lin Jingmei was quite a skilled cook, and for this wedding of one of her sworn “little sisters,” she’d volunteered to take charge of two of the dishes herself.

The kitchen was thick with smoke and heat, exhausting work, made worse by pestering flies buzzing about.

“Hey, hey, hey, at this rate, you’re the only one left, Meizi, the only one left…”

This wasn’t even the first person to bring up the subject today. Lin Jingmei brandished her ladle like a broadsword, swinging it with real force.

“Shoo, shoo, shoo — go help carry the dishes…”

One fly was chased off, only for the others to swarm right back in.

“That’s right, you should really start thinking about it too, Meizi…”

“All right, all right, say something useful.”

“My cousin got back yesterday — you should go meet him…”

In the big kitchen, several male cooks shouted back and forth as they cooked, while people kept drifting over to Lin Jingmei’s station, helping out while chatting with her about matchmaking and marriage. Part of it, of course, was because she was Ning Yi’s adopted daughter; part of it was simply that her looks and temperament truly stood out.

In the Huaxia Army’s early, lean years, some promising young people had put off marriage for years. It was only after the Southwest campaign ended that a large wave of matchmaking and weddings had begun — though by now, it looked to be winding down.

Lin Jingmei, half laughing, half exasperated, fended off one matchmaking effort after another. Of course, with so many people coming by, someone occasionally brought up a thornier topic.

“Hey, Meizi, you’re not still thinking about that He fellow, are you? That man’s no good at all…”

The moment this came up, the nearby male cooks jumped right in. “Nonsense, how could Meizi have such poor judgment…”

“I’m telling you, Meizi, whoever you marry, it better not be that dog of a man!”

“That’s right, we should’ve beaten him to death back then!”

“Feed him croton seeds.”

“Karma’s bound to catch up with him eventually.”

This was, in fact, one of the most talked-about topics lately in Zhang Village — or really, within Huaxia Army territory as a whole. The relationship between the Huaxia Army and the Fairness Party had always been left somewhat ambiguous in the past, and the Huaxia Army’s own stance on it had actually been fairly generous: we’re the ones who defeated the Jurchens, so if you want to borrow a little of that reputation, go ahead.

But then word came of the Jiangning heroes’ gathering, timed suspiciously close to the Huaxia Army’s own World’s Number One Martial Arts Tournament, and it had thoroughly infuriated people here. Especially among the core people of Zhang Village, who knew the whole story of what had happened with He Wen back in the day, and knew how generously the matter had been handled afterward — for him to run back and stir up trouble by borrowing Mr. Ning’s own theories, without so much as a word of thanks for the enormous favor he’d already gotten, and now to undercut them while riding on their coattails — truly, the man deserved to be beaten to death several times over and it still wouldn’t be a shame.

The crowd grumbled and cursed for a while, and then a few of the male cooks changed the subject, speculating about whether their side would take any countermeasures against this heroes’ gathering — sending a team out to disrupt things, for instance — though some argued the place was too far away to bother with for now. After going back and forth like this, the conversation circled back around to treating He Wen’s head like a chamber pot, passed from one person to the next, everyone taking their turn — the talk loud, chaotic, and full of energy.

Things stayed lively around Lin Jingmei’s station too. After a while, once she’d finished the two dishes she was responsible for, she went out to join the feast, though the people wanting to talk about her marriage prospects still hadn’t let up. She fielded them, sometimes gently, sometimes bluntly, and once the crowd started clamoring to go make mischief in the newlyweds’ room, she slipped out through the side of the hall, taking a walk down the street, and eventually wandered over to the little river near Zhang Village.

The early autumn night was hazy and dim; in the distance, the noisy hall looked like an island floating in the darkness, with patches of light scattered from the surrounding courtyards. Under the starlight, the river water babbled softly. She breathed in the air by the riverbank, and couldn’t help but think of He Wen again.

For her now, thinking of He Wen was no longer just about old feelings. Since coming of age, she had taken part in the Huaxia Army’s rear logistics work, handled a good deal of clerical business, and had contact with matters concerning the intelligence system. Compared to affairs that touched on the rise and fall of the entire realm, affairs involving the lives of tens of thousands, even hundreds of thousands of people — personal feelings, in truth, mattered very little.

Just like those familiar faces back in the kitchen — if she simply spoke from the heart, of course the answer was to have He Wen beaten to death and be done with it. But once she considered it on a truly political level, all sorts of possible approaches emerged, and it was these very considerations, branching out from that thought, that were troubling her tonight.

A splash sounded as someone tossed a stone into the river, startling the woman who had been walking along the bank, lost in thought.

There were many hidden sentries patrolling the area around Zhang Village, so there was little chance of any real security trouble. Lin Jingmei turned, startled, and saw, appearing under the starlight behind her, a man in military uniform — having just finished his little prank, he now wore a familiar, teasing smile.

“Peng… Little Peng, you’re back…”

“Delivering an urgent dispatch — I used it as an excuse to sneak back for a bit, though I’m afraid I’m too late to catch the feast.”

“Haven’t you eaten yet? There must still be food in the kitchen.”

“I ate something on the way. I snuck out here looking for you.”

It was Peng Yueyun who had appeared. The two of them walked together along the embankment by the river, talking as they went.

“The feast hadn’t broken up yet when I got there. Jia-jie found me a seat, but when I saw you weren’t around, I asked a few people about it. Everyone kept trying to introduce you to matchmaking prospects, so I figured you must have run off.”

Lin Jingmei laughed. “It’s always the same talk, no harm in it, I’m used to it by now. I just finished cooking in the kitchen, and once I’d eaten my fill, I wanted to come out and walk a bit.”

Peng Yueyun took her hand, and the two of them walked slowly forward, arms swinging.

“Little Sister Mei, marry me. Let’s get married.” Peng Yueyun said.

The two of them had known each other for years — Lin Jingmei was half a year older than Peng Yueyun, and they had always addressed each other as elder sister and younger brother in the past. They had confirmed their feelings for each other earlier this year, expressing their hearts to one another and holding hands for the first time. But Peng Yueyun had gone off to work in Chengdu shortly after, while Lin Jingmei had stayed in Zhang Village, so they hadn’t seen each other often, and the matter of marriage had never been fully settled.

Of course, by the standards of relationships between men and women these days, once a couple had held hands, marriage was generally considered a foregone conclusion. So it seemed natural enough for Peng Yueyun to bring it up now.

A smile rose naturally to the corner of Lin Jingmei’s mouth, but then, as if some thought had crossed her mind, she lowered her head slightly. “Little Peng, of course I’m willing, it’s just… there’s something else going on right now…”

Her hand loosened slightly in his.

Peng Yueyun tightened his grip in response. “You mean the matter with He Wen.”

The ponytailed woman turned to look at him, unsure where to even begin.

Peng Yueyun smiled, then his expression settled into something calmer as he walked on, speaking in a low voice. “He Wen is holding this heroes’ gathering in Jiangning — partly he’s riding on our reputation, but on a bigger level, when a power holds an event on this scale, it’s a way of consolidating its internal forces and centralizing authority. The martial contest itself is secondary. What matters most, I’d guess, is that He Wen knows the Fairness Party has expanded too fast, and its original structure isn’t holding up well anymore.”

“In the south of the Yangtze, they’ve driven refugees to become soldiers, killed landlords, slaughtered the gentry — the movement now numbers in the tens of millions, with an army in the millions. But within that, He Wen, Gao Chang, Xu Zhaonan, Shi Baofeng, and Zhou Shang have each built up their own power bases — it’s practically turning into five separate warlord factions. He Wen wants to imitate our tournament from last year, to establish his reputation publicly, settle the pecking order, and strengthen his own grip on power within the Fairness Party. That’s why he’s doing this. The political implications here run very deep.”

“So then, Little Peng…” Lin Jingmei frowned, looking at him.

Peng Yueyun squeezed her hand. “I know some people down in the staff department have been discussing this — from that angle, we could send people to get involved too, and if we’re going to send anyone, having someone who already knows He Wen personally would obviously be the ideal choice. Sister Mei… I know you’ve probably already heard this kind of talk too.”

“Little Peng, there was never really anything between He Wen and me. I was a bit naive back then, and He Wen himself never had feelings for me either… but if Father needs me to go as an envoy, to negotiate, I think I should go, because I really do understand some things about his past…”

“But what if you go this time and He Wen suddenly claims he’s fallen for you? Or even threatens you using his ties to the Huaxia Army — what then?”

“…I’ll handle it properly.”

She was silent for a long while before finally saying this — no overly firm oaths, no rash appeals to feeling, just a serious, complicated look deep in her eyes as she gazed at Peng Yueyun. He could tell what that look meant; it was the look of a soldier, one he’d seen many times over the years.

He broke into a slow smile. “Someone in Chengdu mentioned your name to the Teacher.”

“Ah…”

“He got scolded for it — the Teacher said he’d been studying schemes and plots until he’d lost his conscience.”

“Ah…”

“And as far as I know, the team headed to Jiangning has probably already been sent out — and here you are, Sister Mei, still foolishly waiting around to be assigned.”

“Ah…” Lin Jingmei looked faintly startled, then pulled her hand free and punched him in the chest. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

Peng Yueyun caught her hand in both of his. “I just love you like this, Little Sister Mei.”

Lin Jingmei kicked him, but he didn’t let go, hopping along the embankment ahead of her.

“So, Little Sister Mei, you can marry me now, right?”

“…Who else would I marry.”

“I’ll find a good moment to ask the Teacher for your hand.”

“Father’s been irritable lately, don’t go bothering him.”

“The Teacher’s got something to worry about every single day, what’s new about that?”

“Ning He talked back to the aunt who does housework for us. Father thought he’d picked up some bad habits, putting on airs with people, so he made him kneel in the courtyard all day, then sent him off to work in the countryside to toughen up.”

Lin Jingmei spoke of this in a low voice — there had been no end of trouble in the Ning household lately. First Ning Ji had been framed and had run away from home, and now Ning He, who had always seemed so obedient, had put on airs with the household help. It seemed like a small thing on the surface, but Ning Yi had, uncharacteristically, flown into a rage and sent Ning He away directly — supposedly to some extremely poor household, though no one knew exactly where, and no one had bothered to ask.

Ning He was Hongti’s son; his mother, said to be the greatest martial artist alive, capable of even besting Lin Zongwu, had reportedly wept over the whole affair.

As for the Ning family’s domestic affairs, Peng Yueyun only nodded, offering no opinion, and simply said, “And here you were thinking the Teacher would let you join the delegation and go marry off for peace. Honestly, on matters like this, he’s actually quite soft-hearted.”

“It’s not really marrying for peace. I just thought maybe he’d let me… hmm, never mind, forget it.”

Lin Jingmei said this, then kicked Peng Yueyun again.

The two of them carried on like this, roughhousing, turning from the embankment onto a nearby road. Just as they rounded the back courtyard of someone’s house, Lin Jingmei tried to pull her hand free, but Peng Yueyun stubbornly held on. Lin Jingmei laughed under her breath. “What if someone sees us — you’re being shameless…”

Peng Yueyun laughed and was about to say something when, in fact, someone did see them.

Down the road, Ning Yi and Hongti appeared to be out for a walk as well, coming this way. Their eyes narrowed slightly as they took in the sight of the two holding hands. Lin Jingmei tugged her hand once, failed to free it, tugged again, and this time succeeded.

“Being shameless?”

“Huh?” Peng Yueyun’s hand hung open in the air, and he blinked.

“Someone — arrest Peng Yueyun for me!”

Ning Yi’s face had darkened, and out of the darkness, soldiers came running from the side, heading straight for Peng Yueyun. Hongti tugged at Ning Yi’s sleeve, but the night air was thick with killing intent.

“Ah… no, no, no, there’s nothing… nothing going on…” Peng Yueyun stammered, flustered. Lin Jingmei opened her mouth. “Father, no, no, no… it’s not what you think…” She hesitated as she said this, then grabbed Peng Yueyun’s hand and pulled him behind her, their arms tangling together. “It’s not what you think, we’re…”

In the light spilling from the courtyard, the killing intent in Ning Yi’s eyes gradually shifted, and at some point had turned into open amusement, his shoulders beginning to shake. “Ha ha ha ha… hahahaha…” He looked at Lin Jingmei’s face, and at their joined hands. “This is honestly… the happiest thing that’s happened to me in ages.”

“Peng Yueyun,” he then said. “Get over here!”

Peng Yueyun looked down at his own hand, still clasped with Lin Jingmei’s, and once it registered, he grinned foolishly and stepped forward. He knew there was a great deal he’d need to account for to Ning Yi now — not just about himself and Lin Jingmei.

There was also the matter of Tang Minjie to deal with.