“So, tell me — what would you even call this?”
The autumn wind stirred outside; clouds hung heavy over the inn, and the silver ingots on the table gleamed harshly. In the wake of the steward’s sigh, Fan Heng and the others seated there all burned with fury.
They had grown up in the prosperous south, in families of decent standing, well-read in the classics — and though the world had fallen into disorder since the Jurchen invasion, some things, they’d always assumed, only happened in the most extreme places. On the other hand, that the savage, murderous Jurchens left suffering wherever their armies passed was understandable enough; even on this trip to the Southwest, they had come prepared to witness certain extreme conditions. But who could have imagined that nothing of the sort had happened in the Southwest, nor on Dai Mengwei’s own territory — only for it to suddenly land square on their heads here, in this shabby little inn of this tiny county seat.
Their emotions had risen and fallen several times over the course of the afternoon, and now, with the steward Wu laying out his silver, and the five able-bodied men who’d come with him lined up behind him, Fan Heng and the others burned with anger, yet for a moment no one stepped forward to speak.
The steward Wu looked over the group, then pushed back his stool and stood.
“Is this really how you people do things?”
“…Hm?”
Just as the steward Wu was about to turn away, an unyielding voice rose up from behind the scholars — a young man who had been sitting somewhat apart from the rest. The young man spoke, deliberate and clear, word by word:
“Today it was your Li family’s people, bullying and oppressing others. Sister Xiuniang and her father… were beaten like that by your side, she nearly had her chastity destroyed. They didn’t provoke you, did they…”
The steward Wu’s gaze darkened, fixing on the youth.
“Your two happen to be having a fight, the wife wants to smash up her husband’s little hideout — we just went over there to pull Sister Xiuniang out, someone who’d done nothing wrong. And now your family’s son-in-law wants to remember us, just for that? Is he the head constable of Tongshan County, or a bandit lording it over a mountain?”
“Hm?”
The steward Wu’s eyes turned vicious, but the youth seemed not to notice.
“The ones bullying and oppressing people, and now blaming the victim for fighting back? We didn’t say a single word while we were there, and now suddenly he wants to remember us? Your husband and wife have their fight, Sister Xiuniang nearly gets beaten to death, and you’re annoyed that they’re in the way? We say a couple of words about whether there’s any law left, and suddenly we’re the ones talking out of line? Not one word of apology out of any of you — is this really how the Li family of Tongshan does business?”
The young man rose to his feet as he spoke, delivering each word with deliberate weight. The steward Wu, in the end, found himself laughing out of sheer anger, baring his teeth as he looked over the assembled scholars. One of them, worried the others might provoke violence, stood and moved to hold back the youth, whose temper seemed to be rising. “Little Long…”
Throughout their journey together, this youth — a physician by trade — had always shown a mild, agreeable temperament. But having spent so much time together, they’d also come to know his fondness for martial arts, his keen interest in rivers-and-lakes gossip, and his eagerness to attend the upcoming heroes’ gathering in Jiangning. Such a temperament wasn’t unusual, of course — what young man didn’t carry a bit of fire in his heart? But in a situation like this, a gentleman standing before danger had to be cautious; if the boy were allowed to keep going, it clearly wouldn’t end well for any of them.
“Whose child is this?” the steward Wu asked, looking around at the group. “It seems my words still haven’t been clear enough. Fine, then.”
As he spoke, he turned and took a long blade, sheath and all, from one of the able-bodied men behind him, laying it down on the table and tapping it with a finger. “Pick one.” He glanced over Fan Heng and the others, then at the youth standing a little apart, baring his teeth. “Go on, little friend. Pick one.”
The youth across from him looked at him, brow faintly furrowed, tilting his head slightly, lips moving as though about to speak — but in the end, nothing came out. Chen Junsheng, the most perceptive among the scholars, had already stepped over and placed himself protectively in front of him. “All right, Little Long, don’t dwell on this.”
“I…”
Ning Ji’s tone was complicated, but in the end, he said nothing more.
“Little Long’s young and hot-blooded, but what he said wasn’t wrong, either,” Fan Heng said, rising slowly from the table. “The Li family of Tongshan is a great and prominent household, not a band of mountain bandits — in running a household and conducting affairs, one naturally ought to hold to propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame. What happened today, on your side, was without justification. In time, when others speak of the Li family, they’ll say the same — that you don’t act with reason. Since ancient times, no family fortune has ever been built this way.”
His words were measured, neither servile nor defiant, striking just the right balance — genuinely well handled, in fact. The steward Wu across from him smiled faintly. “So what you’re saying, then, is that you’re warning me not to let you leave?”
Fan Heng’s lips moved, but no answer came.
“Propriety, righteousness, integrity, shame.” The steward Wu sneered coldly. “Flatter yourselves with a few fine words and you forget who you even are. With propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame — what exactly did you people manage to do to those Jurchen dogs? With propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame — how did our county seat end up burned to the ground? You scholars — when it comes to squeezing taxes and levies out of common folk, you’re right there. When war comes, you’re the first ones on your knees. That fellow from the Southwest says he wants to wipe out you Confucians entirely — you got the guts to go fight him? When the Jurchen dogs came through, who was it that led the villagers up into the mountains to safety? It was me, working alongside our Master Li!”
“You’ve read a few tattered books, and now you spout some empty grand talk — what good does that do anyone? Let’s make things plain here today — I, Master Wu, have never had much use for you book-reading types, always yapping away, useless the moment there’s real work to be done. Want to talk reason? Fine — I can see you people have traveled some. As for today’s affair, our young master has already marked you — he’s out for you now, plain and simple. Our young lady telling you to get lost — you think that’s her bullying you? Ungrateful wretches… that’s our young lady being kind-hearted!”
“Our young lady’s kind-hearted. I, Master Wu, am not nearly so kind-hearted. Keep yapping and pissing me off, and see whether you make it out of Tongshan’s borders at all! I know you’re all unhappy about this — don’t bother being unhappy. Let me tell you something, you brainless lot — times have changed. Our Master Li says it himself — in an age of peace, you look to the books of the sages; in an age of chaos, you look to the blade and the spear. There’s no emperor left now, the realm’s carved up into separate territories — you want to talk reason? This — is reason!”
His voice rang out loud and clear, and having seized the moral high ground of “reason,” he spoke with ever more force. With that, he flicked back the hem of his long robe, and with a flick of his toe, sent the bench in front of him flying up into the air. His body spun in a sudden, whistling arc, and with a tremendous crack, the sturdy bench, struck by his sweeping leg mid-turn, snapped clean in two, the broken pieces flying off and shattering several bottles and jars in the shop.
Fan Heng, standing at the very front, was so startled he collapsed back onto his stool.
The steward Wu had been dressed in a long scholar’s robe, and the group had assumed he was simply another man of letters — but that single sweeping kick, executed with such flawless technique, revealed him to be a formidable martial artist in his own right. Seeing the scholars in the hall all turn pale, he looked rather pleased with himself, gave his sleeve a sweep, and slowly lowered his outstretched leg.
“You want to talk reason — there’s reason to be found here too…” he said slowly. “Every inn in this county has ties to my Li family. If the Li family says you’re not to be housed, you won’t find a bed tonight… I’ve said my piece, plainly enough. Whether you listen or not is up to you. But past tonight, there’ll be no road left open to you tomorrow.”
With that, he gave his sleeves a flick and led his men out of the inn. Once outside, the sound of obsequious flattery from the able-bodied men could be faintly heard: “Master Wu, that kick just now — truly something.”
“Remarkable…”
“Heh heh, not at all, not at all…”
……
Inside the inn, the scholars, having witnessed the stunning effect of that single kick, sat in stunned silence for a good while, faces cycling through red and white. Only Ning Ji, watching the man stride off in satisfaction after shattering the bench, let his shoulders slump, and let out a long, heavy sigh.
The innkeeper, who had been hiding inside, now came out to survey the damage. Seeing the main hall smashed up, he looked troubled too, glancing around at the group. “Best not cross people like that — you should go. If you gentlemen wish to stay any longer, this humble shop dares not take you in.” He sighed, shook his head, and retreated back inside.
“What do we do now?” someone finally spoke up.
Lu Wenke said, his voice hoarse, “Is there really no law left at all!”
“You all saw it yourselves.”
“Maybe… maybe the county magistrate isn’t like that?” Lu Wenke said. “Even if… even if the Li family holds so much power, would an official really let some mere martial thug call all the shots here? We haven’t even tried yet…”
He seemed to have worked something out in his mind, speaking now with a note of stubborn resistance. Chen Junsheng walked over and patted him on the shoulder, sighing.
“I… I still think…” Lu Wenke’s red-rimmed eyes swept over the group, settling on Fan Heng, the eldest among them, as if seeking some support or agreement. But before he could finish, a stir arose from the direction of the door leading to the back courtyard, and a woman’s weak voice rang out.
“Everyone…” The group turned to look, and there, standing by the doorway, was none other than Wang Xiuniang, who had just been injured earlier — her face now patched with bandages, tears streaming from her eyes, steadying herself against the doorframe as she came forward. “Everyone… gentlemen, we… we should just go…”
“Xiuniang, what’s this about…”
Before Fan Heng could finish speaking, Wang Xiuniang came through the doorway and knelt down. “My father and I… this whole journey, we’ve relied so much on all of you gentlemen’s care, and because of that, I truly can’t bear to burden you any further…” She made as if to kowtow; Ning Ji had already rushed over to support her, and heard her say through her tears, “Since I was young… I’ve traveled the rivers and lakes with my father, and I know well enough — a visiting dragon can’t overpower the local snake… This Li family of Tongshan holds too much power here. Even if all of you gentlemen wished to help me, this really isn’t the moment to clash head-on with them…”
“I want to leave this place… gentlemen, please, let’s go… I’m afraid…”
Supported by Ning Ji, her voice choked with sobs, tears welling in her eyes, she pleaded with everyone in the hall like this. Her gaze seemed to sweep over each of them, but lingered most of all on Lu Wenke. He sat off to the side, his eyes red, and yet in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to say a single word.
Someone slammed a fist against a pillar, to show how deeply this pained him. Someone sighed. Someone fell silent. Lu Wenke started to speak several times — “Maybe filing a complaint would still work…” — but in the end, never finished the thought.
The sky had darkened by now.
The group packed up their belongings, hired a carriage, loaded up Wang Jiang and Wang Xiuniang, and left the inn before evening fell, passing out through the city gate.
Along the way, no one said much. Deep down, they all knew that their little group had, in effect, fled this place with its tail between its legs. Circumstances had simply overpowered them, and there was nothing inherently wrong with retreating — but a certain measure of humiliation still lingered, undeniable. And before they’d even left, it had been Wang Xiuniang herself, with her “I’m afraid,” who had given everyone a convenient excuse to go along with it.
Ning Ji said little the whole way, his expression the calmest of anyone in the group, even as he packed his own bags with practiced ease. The others assumed a boy his age was simply holding his anger in, but under the circumstances, no one quite knew how to console him either. In the end, it was only Fan Heng who managed, along the road, to say half a sentence to him: “Scholars have their use, and those who study the martial arts have theirs too… it’s just, this world we live in… ah…”
Ning Ji nodded. “Mm, I understand.”
Fan Heng had no idea whether he truly meant it, but he had nothing more to offer the boy by way of consolation either.
Night fell, and the group finally settled at a small market town about ten li outside Tongshan County. After a simple dinner, it was already fairly late. Ning Ji checked over the still-unconscious Wang Jiang once more, though for now there was little more he could do to determine whether the middle-aged man would recover. Checking on Wang Xiuniang’s injuries again, he found her simply weeping quietly alone in her room.
Her relationship with Lu Wenke had never been formally settled, and throughout this journey he had worn a look of bitter resentment, without making much effort to actively comfort her. In truth, she understood well enough in her heart — this match, which had already been something of a reach above her station to begin with, might very well have no future left at all. Lu Wenke was in the full bloom of youth, always full of talk about being “full of promise,” but here in a small place like Tongshan, he had suffered a crushing humiliation — and even if he still wished to marry her, every time he looked at her in the future, he would inevitably be reminded of his own helplessness that day. This, for a man, was one of the most unbearable humiliations of all.
“…If Uncle Wang can wake up by tomorrow morning, that’ll be a good sign, though given how serious his injuries are, he won’t be able to travel for the next several days. I’ve prepared a few prescriptions for him… two of these are meant for his long-term care — there’s something wrong with the hard qigong he’s been practicing, it’s why his whole body aches as he gets older. These two prescriptions should help with that…”
“Little Long, thank you.”
“Mm.”
Ning Ji nodded, accepting her thanks.
After leaving the room, Lu Wenke, his eyes still red, came over to ask about Wang Xiuniang’s condition. Ning Ji gave him a rough summary, privately thinking that this pair of star-crossed fools ought to at least look out for each other properly. His own mind, though, was no longer really on this matter.
It was past midnight now — Ning Ji’s fifteenth birthday — though not a single person in the group actually knew it. The events of the day had left everyone weighed down with troubled thoughts, and it was a long while before people gradually drifted off to sleep, all crowded into one large room. It wasn’t until the early hours of the morning, when Fan Heng got up to use the privy, that he noticed one person was missing from the room. He lit an oil lamp and searched together with the others. “Where’s Little Long gone?”
By then, the young physician known as “Proud Sky Dragon” had already vanished.
It took them a moment to piece it together. “A young man his age… he probably just… didn’t want to keep traveling with us anymore, is all…”
Ning Ji left the inn, his pack on his back, walking toward Tongshan County. It was nighttime, but for him, there wasn’t much real difference from daytime — walking along felt much like an easy stroll through scenic hills.
Traveling alongside this group of scholars had, in the end, always been something that would come to an end eventually. That was fine, really — and having it happen on his very own birthday, of all days, struck him as rather fitting, in its own way.
He didn’t feel any particular need to explain himself to them. He didn’t think leaving Tongshan the way they had was some kind of humiliating decision. When trouble arises, what matters is having the ability to actually solve it — a scholar facing a thug naturally has to step back first, then come back later with reinforcements to settle the score properly; a man trained in the martial arts has other ways of handling things. That was simply a matter of assessing each situation on its own terms. The Huaxia Army’s training placed great value on bold, decisive courage — but it also warned, above all, against reckless, thoughtless action.
Sending these people off safely, then going back himself to have a proper conversation with that steward Wu — that, to him, was simply the reasonable thing to do.
That fool had actually snapped a bench in half with one kick…
He’d very nearly been genuinely impressed by the man’s skill…
If a group of his Huaxia Army comrades had been there, they probably would have watched wide-eyed and then applauded, telling him how impressive that was…
That was exactly the kind of thing worth going back to properly appreciate…
That was what he was thinking as he walked. Not far outside the small market town, he came upon several figures moving through the night…