Clang, clang-clang-clang-clang—

The clash of blades rang out densely across the drill grounds, occasionally sparking flashes of light into the air. On a spring day still touched by cold, two figures in thin robes circled and struck at each other, the fight lively and fierce.

Liang Siyi stood among a group of soldiers watching tensely nearby. From time to time cheers burst out among the men, but her gaze stayed fixed and focused, her fists pressed against her knees, her expression tinged with anxiety.

At last, the sparring match on the field came to a halt when a long blade snapped in two. As the two combatants drew apart, the tension finally left her face. Rousing laughter reached everyone’s ears.

“Ha, exhilarating! Truly exhilarating—”

Sparring nearly at full strength against You Hongzhuo on the drill grounds was the burly figure known as “Little Ming King” Chen Fangda.

Ever since their first match a few days earlier, when they discovered they were evenly matched and worthy opponents, such bouts had become a regular occurrence. Over the past several days, whenever Chen Fangda finished with official business, he would seek out You Hongzhuo, often stopping to call out to Liang Siyi, who was busy preparing for her wedding: “Sister, lend me your man for a bit!”

As for Liang Siyi, who had led troops and fought in battles, she too had grown tired of the endless bridal preparations, and whenever Chen Fangda called out to her, she would often slip away with them, leaving the group of sisters and aunties from the Rebel Army to fuss over the wedding chamber being prepared for her and You Hongzhuo without her.

Still, real blade-on-blade sparring on the drill grounds carried real danger. You Hongzhuo and Chen Fangda were close in skill, and once they truly let loose, cuts and scrapes were nearly unavoidable, and the possibility of a more serious injury from a single slip was never zero. Though Liang Siyi had lived through the bloodshed of the battlefield, she still watched with anxiety, often complaining that the two of them fought too fiercely. You Hongzhuo would say in response: “Sparring with Third Brother wastes an awful lot of weapons.”

Chen Fangda would only laugh heartily. “Skill on the battlefield is bound to be like this — one blade, one sword, and it’s settled who wins… You have no idea, back in my day, my swordsmanship was refined too, but now, refined technique just doesn’t satisfy anymore…”

He loved martial arts, and over more than a decade, his once-refined style had transformed entirely into the sweeping, decisive strikes of battlefield combat. In the years when the Rebel Army had lacked supplies, he had held himself somewhat in check, but now that life was better and he no longer went hungry, he needed an outlet for his excess energy in sparring matches nearly every day.

After the match this time, both men were steaming with heat, and they went with Liang Siyi to rest in the rooms beside the drill grounds, exchanging thoughts on martial training. Chen Fangda often told stories from his own path in learning martial arts.

Things like how he’d been bright since childhood, with great natural talent for martial arts, but unfortunately had grown up poor and hadn’t eaten enough, which was why his frame wasn’t taller. By the time he neared thirty, the Jurchens had swept south, and Wang Juyun had moved him to join the Rebel Army, which changed the wandering-swordsman path he’d been on — which was why, he’d sigh, he could only manage to fight You Hongzhuo to a draw, a kind of “forced into this life against his will” lament. Of course, given his bold and open nature, he told these stories in a joking tone, and You Hongzhuo found them entertaining to listen to.

In their idle chatting, Chen Fangda would also talk about recent major events in the city, including the Rebel Army’s coming westward campaign — this time, the expedition to the northwest would be led by him personally, while the household steward An Xifu would handle the various logistical details. By now the plans were essentially finalized. You Hongzhuo and Liang Siyi’s wedding was set for a few days later, at the end of February, and by early March the advance forces would formally set out for the northwest.

“This time in the campaign for the northwest, the Lady Chancellor’s side will be led by General Shi Anzhen, and besides our forces, the Chinese Army will also send a unit — that’s the Monkey fellow, Fang, who met with Zou Xu at the teahouse the other day. Not many men, but the reputation of the black banner should be of some use in negotiating surrenders…”

“Is it dangerous?” You Hongzhuo asked.

“…This time shouldn’t be too dangerous,” Chen Fangda answered after some thought. “Though that Mr. Ning wrote a letter last month warning us to be wary of the steppe people from Western Xia, in fact the whole reason we’re going to the northwest in the first place is because of concern about that very group. We’ve made all the preparations we need to. As for the actual state of the northwest, the Lady Chancellor’s side has already sent people to scout it out since last year — the various old grudges and scores have all been thoroughly mapped out…”

“…That would have been around… the eighth or ninth month of the eleventh year of the Wu Dynasty’s Jianshuo era, the last year of Jianshuo, right around when the Jurchen eastern army was about to break through Lin’an. On our side, Nianhan had already retreated, catching his breath, fighting it out fiercely with Liao Yiren. Over in the Fuzhou area of the northwest, a former high official of the Wu Dynasty named Chen Shiqun, after his family was killed by the Jurchens, colluded with the steppe people, who had by then already conquered Western Xia for some years, and together they broke the last few cities of the northwest, killing Zhe Kequ’s entire family.”

“…Those steppe barbarians were the same group that, by the end of that year, were hired by the Liao family to fight against us. There was blood debt between us and them, actually… The following spring, they tricked their way into Qi County, which was then held by General Li Guotang, and massacred no small number of people there. But afterward these barbarians, relying on their light cavalry’s speed, would come and go like the wind — in Jin Territory they only destroyed the millet and wheat crops without ever giving proper battle, which gave us quite a headache for a while, and it made everyone think Liao Yiren had gone completely mad… Before we could retaliate, they killed Liao Yiren’s entire family and rode off in triumph.”

“…Though they caused us some trouble at the time, that kind of light-cavalry raid, massacring without regard for who was friend or foe and then leaving, is the fighting style of bandits and outlaws — and honestly, setting aside the blood debt at Qi County, it actually shortened the length of that particular war for us in Jin Territory somewhat, so afterward we didn’t pay them too much attention… Of course, the Lady Chancellor remembers it well. Later, when steppe merchants came from Western Xia wanting to discuss cooperation, the Lady Chancellor turned them down flat…”

“…When we sent people to scout the northwest last year, we found that although the steppe people had handed some of the Zhe family’s former towns over to Chen Shiqun after taking Fuzhou, he wasn’t able to hold onto the Zhe family’s former position. Only two months after the steppe people left, his own men mutinied and killed Chen Shiqun, and chaos broke out.”

“…The northwest was ravaged by the Jurchens wave after wave, and the Zhe family, the only ones who’d managed to hold their ground, were then ravaged once more by the steppe people, their supplies looted as well. After another year of fighting, all that was left were bandits and small self-defending strongholds — all weak forces that couldn’t withstand a single military sweep. We’re willing to go in and take over, and with the black banner of the Chinese Army backing us as well, men who can’t even fill their bellies shouldn’t be able to refuse us…”

Regarding this northwest campaign, both Jin Territory and the Rebel Army had clearly already discussed it in detail over multiple rounds, and Chen Fangda spoke of it with evident confidence. You Hongzhuo thought for a moment and said, “If there’s anything I can be of use for…”

Chen Fangda laughed. “There is — that’s to keep sparring with your brother here as much as we can before we set out. Sigh, little brother-in-law, you have no idea — back in the day I wanted to become a great hero like Zhou Tong. These years of mundane duties have kept me from truly enjoying myself. You know, that battlefield style, straightforward and direct, doesn’t train you in fancy techniques, doesn’t produce a true master. These past years… it’s only sparring with my adoptive father and Brother Shi that’s given me even a taste of the true martial world…”

“…But Father is getting on in years, and Brother Shi’s duty of guarding the Lady Chancellor keeps him too busy — besides, my friendship with him isn’t that deep. You’re different, little brother-in-law. Our skill is closely matched, and we’ve sparred the longest and most satisfyingly. I feel like I’ve improved again these past few days, so as they say, to practice martial arts you need a rival — from now on, let’s be lifelong rivals…”

Chen Fangda rambled on about martial arts, talking a mile a minute and mostly nonsense. You Hongzhuo couldn’t help but laugh.

“No need to be rivals for that…” he said. “Though, when I was in the southwest, I saw how the Chinese Army trains its troops, and they have quite a method to it. I picked up a few techniques myself, and I mentioned it to Father-in-law before…”

You Hongzhuo, having returned from the southwest, had learned quite a number of the Chinese Army’s specialized training techniques. When he’d mentioned this to Wang Juyun, Wang Juyun had raised the idea of him occasionally teaching within the army, though with his wedding to Liang Siyi approaching, there had been no rush to arrange it. Now, with Chen Fangda about to head out on campaign, You Hongzhuo roughly explained the situation in the southwest. Chen Fangda listened carefully, and after a while, when You Hongzhuo paused, he smiled faintly and waved a hand.

“…Actually, some of the southwest’s training methods were mentioned to us before by General Xue Guangcheng, who came over with the technical team, and there have been quite a few discussions with the Lady Chancellor’s side about it in the past too. We’ve received some of the Chinese Army’s firearms and learned quite a bit from them, but later we found that, well, their very best things — we simply can’t make use of them for now…”

“Why is that?”

Chen Fangda sighed. “The Chinese Army’s greatest strength isn’t in training one or two elite soldiers or scouts — it’s that Mr. Ning has used all sorts of methods to give basic education to the majority of his troops… teaching them to read, teaching them military strategy, even teaching them how to be decent people, so they’ll fight on the battlefield not just for their wages, and fight on even while starving. Much of this, whether for us or for the Lady Chancellor’s side, still can’t be put to use for the time being…”

Unlike the boldness and roughness with which he’d spoken of martial arts earlier, Chen Fangda now counted off points on his fingers with genuine seriousness as he discussed military matters.

“…Father and I have discussed this many times — what exactly are the Chinese Army’s methods… For one, we already have papermaking. But as for the ideas that come next — first, this notion of equality for all; second, remembering past bitterness to appreciate present sweetness; third, he stirs up the soldiers’ hatred of the Jurchens — of these, the second we can barely make use of, the third even more so, but when it actually comes down to using them, you find that we simply don’t have enough people in our own army who can speak this way.”

“Right now… we’re all sworn brothers, one big family, but little You, how many people do you think can really talk the talk? The most loyal among us at least won’t drink the blood of their own soldiers, and the promises we can usually make amount to plenty of meat and wine. Now that things have eased up a bit, distinctions between officers and men have started to emerge. Most of our commanders are men who can lead a charge on the battlefield — but those who can actually speak well, persuade well, are far too few…”

“…This is something Mr. Ning has worked on for over a decade — from Bamboo Records to Xiaocang River, he trained people up personally, batch after batch, each batch training the next, until eventually nearly every common soldier could read at least a little, and from among them he picked out the truly talented ones…”

Chen Fangda lowered his voice as he went on: “This is something the Lady Chancellor’s side was the first to understand — she wants to do it, but between the time it takes and the ideas required, she’s still not quite there. Mr. Ning spent over a decade doing this — setting aside Confucianism entirely, teaching a whole generation of people from scratch by himself. They only managed to set aside Confucian classics after killing an emperor. What do we have on our side? We call out all the literate Confucian scholars, and what they teach is still the same old classics, the same old doctrine of the ruler, father, and teacher…”

“…And here in Jin Territory, there are so many great clans over the years. Even with the Lady Chancellor in power, she still has to court these great clans, so the idea of equality for all simply can’t be raised. If you can’t raise equality for all, then why should the common soldiers, suffering hardship, be expected to bear the burdens of the state and the great clans on their behalf? How many would keep fighting bravely once they’ve left the ranks after being educated?…”

“…So these things, while not easy, are of course not something we’re not doing. Since last year, the Lady Chancellor’s side has already arranged for many people to study under the Chinese Army’s teachers, and for the children of some great clans — some have been sent to the southwest, others study and work in classes we’ve set up ourselves. Officers within the army who can speak well and have good character have also been promoted and looked after… These things are, in any case, moving forward step by step…”

Chen Fangda’s speech revealed the diligence and professionalism of him as a commander, and You Hongzhuo listened solemnly, then cupped his hands. “Third Brother speaks with reason.” He had originally thought the man had a rough, unrefined temperament, but now found himself won over.

Chen Fangda laughed and waved it off. “Ha ha ha ha, all that came from the Lady Chancellor and Father — if it were up to my own nature, I wouldn’t bother with such headaches at all.”

He paused for a moment, then added: “But there’s no need to worry too much either. There’s never been anyone in history who trains troops the way Mr. Ning does. As long as we’re not comparing ourselves to the southwest’s black banner, neither the Tiger King’s army nor our own Rebel Army are lacking. Once we get through this campaign, and our Rebel Army truly has room to breathe, the southwest’s methods — we should study them carefully still.”

Between bouts of sparring, Chen Fangda would occasionally mention these matters in passing. Once they’d worked up a sweat, they would go to bathe at the barracks. Afterward, changed into dry clothes, it was often already afternoon, and You Hongzhuo and Liang Siyi would stroll through Weisheng.

The war-torn cities of Jin Territory now brimmed with vitality amid the current wave of openness, merchants traveling from north and south beginning to gather, and smiles appearing on the faces of people in the streets and alleys. The two of them, with their wedding approaching, spoke of the past and the future as they walked. Weisheng’s prosperity certainly couldn’t compare to the southwest, nor perhaps to the traces of bygone splendor still faintly visible in certain cities of Jiangnan, but the people here were like wild grass — tenacious and rough, their emotions all the more genuine for it, and both of them, having traveled far and wide, found they preferred the feeling of this place.

Wandering the once-unfamiliar streets and alleys, buying novel and interesting snacks, chatting in the warming spring air, sparring, or strolling through the spring scenery, whenever they reached a quiet spot they would take each other’s hands, and whether thinking of the present or the future, both their hearts brimmed with happiness.

Chen Fangda came several more times to spar with You Hongzhuo, and some of the more outgoing brothers of the Rebel Army would often drag him along to gatherings. Wang Juyun occasionally gave him pointers on his swordsmanship. After several days like this, at the very end of February, he and Liang Siyi were married.

Everyone held a lively and grand wedding — not only the members of the Rebel Army, but even the Lady Chancellor, Shi Jin, many members of the Chinese Army, and numerous martial-world wanderers came to attend.

Given the large crowd gathered for the festivities, many people stirred up mischief in the bridal chamber, and seeing that You Hongzhuo had few helpers on his side, the Rebel Army’s people, led by Chen Fangda, took on the role of his family to stop others from teasing the newlyweds too much, and the group laughed and roughhoused in the courtyard of the bridal chamber for quite a while.

Many years ago, a boy who had lost his family in a mountain village, fighting his way out through hardship after hardship, had never imagined that one day so many people would come so joyfully to celebrate his wedding.

The Rebel Army’s departure for the northwest was set for the second day of March that year.

The newly married You Hongzhuo and Liang Siyi bid farewell to Chen Fangda, who was leading the expedition, along with the many brothers of the Rebel Army. As the troops passed through the city gates, they watched, along with a great crowd, from atop the city wall as the army receded into the distance.

The burly Chen Fangda, carrying his paired Peacock King swords on his back, rode gradually toward the horizon, finally raising one fist over his shoulder in a gesture to those behind him, looking mighty and spirited.

The white-haired Wang Juyun stood solemnly at the front, saying little. As the saying goes, the general dies after a hundred battles, the warrior returns after ten years — no matter how small the war, people always died in the course of it. The Rebel Army of years past had experienced too much of the grief of losing loved ones, year after year, and even now, with every preparation made, those who truly understood war would not cheer wildly for such a departure.

As the army receded further into the distance, You Hongzhuo turned again to Wang Juyun. “Father-in-law, is there anything… that I could do…”

Wang Juyun looked at him, his gaze calm and kind, and after a moment of silence, finally spoke. “Little You, tell me — is Jin Territory at peace now? Is it that, from now on, we can rest easy with nothing more to worry about?”

“…Hm?” You Hongzhuo shook his head. “Of course not.”

“Indeed… It’s been sixteen years since the Jurchens first swept south. In these sixteen years, against the Jurchens, we’ve only won once — that time in the southwest. Now the new ruler of the Jin state is locked in strife with the old ministers, and the Chinese Army from the southwest has brought all sorts of new ideas, and hope besides — it looks as though everything is racing forward into spring, but in truth, little You, all of this is nothing but a moon’s reflection on water. The prosperity we see in Jin Territory today will sooner or later be tested in the next great war against the Jurchens. Ahead of us lie ten, a hundred more battles — and much of what we have, I’m afraid, is bound to be reduced to ashes sooner or later.”

The old man’s gaze remained kind as he looked at You Hongzhuo, even as the words that came from his mouth were fierce beyond measure. He then reached out and patted him on the shoulder.

“So then, what are we to do… Little You, there’s no need to worry for their sake. We must live in this world — everyone has their own trial to face, their own barrier to cross on their own, and you too will have your own barrier to face. Chen Fangda must have told you — when he was young, he wanted to be a wandering swordsman, wanted to become a Zhou Tong. Unfortunately… circumstances got in the way, and he only managed, reluctantly, to become a troop commander. What he told you was true — if the Rebel Army hadn’t been so desperately short of men back then, he really did have the potential to go further in his training…”

You Hongzhuo thought for a moment. “But now… there’s no shortage of wandering swordsmen, perhaps…”

“You’ve got it wrong, little You… This world needs all kinds of people — it needs leaders like Mr. Ning or the Lady Chancellor, it needs lesser officials beneath them, it needs generals like Yu Lin and Chen Fangda, it needs craftsmen in the Chinese Army researching the natural sciences, it needs teachers to provide basic education, and it also needs great masters like Shi Jin and Zhou Tong…”

Wang Juyun put an arm around You Hongzhuo’s shoulders as they walked slowly along the city wall. “When this world… reaches its winter, when foreign enemies come, many people, like Chen Fangda and the others, have no choice — even a woman like Siyi has to take up arms and go into battle. But when times are still relatively easy, everyone should try to find the thing they have the most potential for. You feel a kinship with Chen Fangda and want to help him in the army — but in the end, you’d probably only become a third-rate commander, or perhaps, decades from now, a scout captain at best. But if you keep refining your martial arts, someday you might become a great master like Zhou Tong — and at that point, if you go lead a unit of scouts, paired with the right commander, who knows what remarkable things you might accomplish…”

The old man paused, then sighed softly. “Actually, to be honest, I’m not really a good leader myself. This whole business with the Manichean faith, and taking in so many adopted sons and daughters — that was an expedient measure back in the day, and it may well have sown the seeds of trouble for the future, limiting how far the Rebel Army can ultimately go. But little You, there was no other way…”

“Look at all the flowers and trees across this world — they always bloom in spring, grow vigorously through summer, in autumn they leave behind their seeds while also storing up nourishment for winter, and by winter, there’s little more they can do. In my own day, in spring and summer, what I learned was the Manichean faith’s doctrine of rebellion, so by the time winter came, that was the only thing I had to keep out the cold. As for you, and Siyi…”

“…What you two need to do is, while times are still easy, in the spring, work hard to draw in all the nourishment you can. Since you both have your own talents, you must work hard, push forward, achieve what others cannot — this is the very best preparation you can make for the winter everyone will eventually face… Understand?”

The white-haired old man asked with a smile. You Hongzhuo and Liang Siyi thought it over and both nodded solemnly. Wang Juyun laughed heartily.

“Good, good.” He said to those around them. “All of you should be like this — go and become yourselves, do the very best you can.”

The sound of acknowledgment rang out along the city wall.

The spring wind blew past. You Hongzhuo looked down below, where the army continued to recede into the distance, while across the spring earth, new green leaves and life burst forth everywhere, and even the unnamed wildflowers bloomed in brilliant color. This was not only Jin Territory’s spring — it was also the second spring of his own life. This time, he had a wife, a family, brothers, and an elder as dignified and fatherly as any, to guide his path forward.

The cold of winter had passed, and the warmth of spring had arrived, and not far off on the city wall, the Lady Chancellor, the Chinese Army’s representative, Zou Xu who had come from Bianliang, and the many representatives of merchant families and clans all watched with smiles as the army receded into the distance, people chatting and laughing together in harmony, a beautiful future seemingly laid out before them.

The thunderclouds were coming…

…

The thunderclouds were coming.

In the southwest, at the office by Mohe Pond, Ning Yi woke with a start from his sleep. Outside the window, spring thunder had sounded, and rain was about to fall.

Perhaps not wanting to disturb his sleep, his secretary had not come in to light the lamps, and with the coming storm the room was rather dim. He rubbed his forehead and lit the candle himself.

On the desk lay the official papers he had mostly worked through, along with intelligence gathered from various sources. The most pressing news of late mostly concerned the new land policy — after the initial round of a hundred pilot villages had been pushed through, starting in February many of the work teams had split up, spreading out from groups of ten into a much wider range of small and medium villages, entering a phase of systematic, large-scale rollout. Meanwhile, the activists selected during the first round of the hundred-village pilot were now being sorted and entering civil-service training in various fields.

All of the work was fragmented and complex, and the collected information no longer carried the strong slant of the early days of the land policy — it seemed like nothing but a vast sea of data, but discovering problems and identifying issues remained work that the central leadership could not afford to relax on for even a moment.

Something from his dream seemed to have occurred to him, but upon opening his eyes, it had already slipped away. Ning Yi looked over the various papers on his desk, then lifted his candle and walked to one side of the study. Several large maps hung there, the most prominent of which was an illustrated diagram of the entire land-policy system of village organization in the southwest, with countless villages marked densely with flags, some even numbered.

This was the thing he had looked at most in recent days.

But besides this map, there were also maps of the Central Plains, of Jiangnan, even of the entire realm. Ning Yi held up the candle and turned a slow circle.

In the southeast, the young emperor’s power grab was still underway — crude, blunt, yet incisive, and the great clans under his rule had begun sporadic resistance. All of this was to be expected and had little bearing on the southwest.

Jiangnan’s Fairness Party had entered a state of formal war since the start of spring. He Wen was steadily accumulating strength, while the reserves of the other factions were nearly exhausted. Having made little headway against He Wen, Shi Baofeng and Xu Zhaonan had now turned their sights toward Tie Yan and Wu Qimei in Lin’an — it wouldn’t be long, probably, before the small court at Lin’an became history, though it was all minor skirmishing in the end. He Wen’s steady, methodical progress these past few months, by contrast, showed real method — he might just manage to build a genuinely disciplined Fairness Party.

Bianliang… Dai Mengwei was busy inviting scholars and martial-world figures from across the realm to gather at the old capital, sending out invitations far and wide. But according to the intelligence sent earlier by Lou Shuwan, Zhan Wu, and others, what truly mattered was probably Zou Xu’s attempt to attach himself to Lou Shuwan — there was no stopping that; as long as he was willing to pay, Lou Shuwan had no reason to turn away such a wealthy prospect. As for his own side… well, he still cared about appearances. The Chinese Army was no longer barefoot, had started wearing shoes now, and in the end could hardly enter into dealings with Zou Xu — no need to dwell on that.

As for Jin Territory, the scheme to seize the northwest should already be underway — this needed to be done, and he had written a letter urging them to be wary of the Mongols from Western Xia. Though it wasn’t yet clear just how much caution was warranted, with the abilities of Lou Shuwan, Wang Juyun, and Fang Chengye, there shouldn’t be too great a surprise in store…

He mulled this over for a while, but whatever clue from his dream it was, it never came back to him — until, just as he turned to leave, he suddenly raised the candle again and swept it a few times over the areas marking Bianliang and Jin Territory.

“Zou Xu…”

…

“If I were him… what would I do…”

…

Whatever unease had lingered from his dream seemed to trace back to this — a question he hadn’t given much thought to in a long while, because the situation seemed clear enough: as long as the land policy proceeded smoothly, he hardly needed to concern himself with what other factions were up to.

He thought it over now, but still couldn’t quite grasp the thread of it.

Just then, his secretary knocked at the door, reporting that the small team sent on a mission to the Jin state had now returned.

“Did they bring Chen Wenjun back?”

He asked.

Outside the door, the secretary answered.

Behind him, the heavy spring rain had already begun pouring down over Mohe Pond…