With the weather so hot, the lush green mountains had grown all the more lively with life — the cicadas’ droning, the frogs’ leaping, the birds’ swooping, all weaving together without end.

In the afternoon, south of Fuzhou city, on Mount Jiuxian.

A young man with a faint scar across his brow stood for a while at a gap partway up the mountainside.

A cool breeze blew through the lush greenery, dispelling the summer heat, but his expression remained dark and troubled, his face far from relaxed.

After a while, a friend dressed in light, close-fitting clothes came up from below. A hint of a smile broke through his somewhat gloomy expression. “Brother Zhou.”

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Brother Zhan.”

The man with the faint scar across his brow was none other than “Tiger Shark” Zhan Yunhai, a figure of considerable notoriety around Putian, while the one hurrying up to meet him was, of course, Zuo Xingzhou, going by the alias Zhou Xing. Both men were known in the underworld as fighters who fought without any regard for their own lives, and their friendship ran deep from before — now that they’d also teamed up against a “direct disciple of Zhou Tong” like Yue Yun, their bond had only grown stronger.

The two exchanged brief pleasantries before turning to head up the mountain together. Zuo Xingzhou looked over his friend’s attire and had already formed a guess in his mind, though what he said was: “Dressed so properly today, aren’t you — you didn’t even put on powder, did you… Anyway, who am I helping you fight today? You’d better give me the details — how we’re fighting, how it’s supposed to end up, I need to know what I’m working with.”

Zhan Yunhai walked with his head down, his expression complicated. “It’s not really a fight. Actually… it’s my father-in-law who asked to meet with me.”

“Oh, Huang Bailong?”

“Xiaoxiang’s father, named Huang Shengyuan.”

“Ah.” Zuo Xingzhou nodded. “I’ve heard that name.”

“Huang Shengyuan is desperate to send Xiaoxiang into the palace.” Zhan Yunhai said. “Brother Zhou, you must have heard about it — the Huang family is a great clan in Putian, the main branch controlled by Huang Bailong, while Huang Shengyuan is from a side branch. Over the years he’s worked under Huang Bailong and been given quite a bit of trust, but he’s never held a position as important as the main branch’s. The other day you mentioned to me the business about the dog Emperor selecting consorts for money, so I went and asked around — Huang Shengyuan has prepared nearly eighty thousand taels of silver, hoping to send Xiaoxiang into the palace as a Noble Consort. As things stand now, I’m afraid I’m the only obstacle standing in the way…”

“Eighty thousand taels… so Brother Zhan, you’re worried your father-in-law might turn on you directly, arranging this private meeting to have you dealt with?”

“Probably not.” Zhan Yunhai shook his head. “I’ve killed people in Putian these past few years, and I’ve dealt with Huang Shengyuan plenty of times too — he knows my temperament well enough that if he tried to kill me outright, his whole family would have no peace. But even so, Brother Zhou, I know my own limits — what am I, a Tiger Shark, compared to something he’s willing to spend eighty thousand taels to make happen… damn, that old dog is far too rich. Back when a few of my brothers were headmen in the Manichean sect, breaking every principle they had, they couldn’t even earn five hundred taels a year…”

Zuo Xingzhou nodded. “So do you want me to protect you secretly, or should we go openly together?”

“I’m planning to watch from a distance first. If it seems Huang Shengyuan really means to kill me, you stay hidden nearby. But I don’t actually think this’ll turn ugly — if it goes smoothly, I’d rather you stand openly beside me, backing me up.”

Hearing this, Zuo Xingzhou immediately understood and laughed. “If I’d known that from the start, I could’ve found a few more capable fighters in the city and brought them all along — guaranteed that even if your father-in-law harbors ill intent, he’d have no choice but to swallow it quietly!”

Zhan Yunhai laughed too, patting his shoulder. “Everyone in Putian knows Brother Zhou’s reputation as ‘Mixed Primordial Axe’ — having you alone is more than enough. Besides, I don’t want too many people there, or it’ll look like I’m the one being aggressive. Sigh, I’ve done plenty of work for the Huang family in the past — I figured, sure, they’re merchants and I’m the muscle, our stations different, but not by that much — even marrying in as an adopted son-in-law wouldn’t have bothered me. Who could have known… sigh…”

They continued up the mountain as they talked, Zhan Yunhai sharing more about the Huang family’s affairs. Known by the nickname “Tiger Shark,” he was usually the most defiant and unruly of characters, but speaking now of the difficulty surrounding his marriage, his face wore nothing but a look of worry. Zuo Xingzhou could only offer him some measure of comfort with an “it might not necessarily fall through.”

Skilled in martial arts, their pace was quick, and before long they arrived near the Wanshou Temple on the mountain, where they spotted several figures waiting.

The man at the front was tall and thin, his expression stern, wiping sweat from his brow with a handkerchief — clearly the “father-in-law” Zhan Yunhai had mentioned, Huang Shengyuan. The men flanking him, though sturdy-looking servants, along with the tourists visible around the area, made it clear enough that Huang Shengyuan had no intention of resorting to violence today.

Zuo Xingzhou and Zhan Yunhai walked over together. Seeing that Zhan Yunhai had brought someone with him, Huang Shengyuan raised an eyebrow before stepping forward as well, addressing him as he approached: “Little Zhan, and this is…”

“Uncle, this is my good brother, known in the underworld as ‘Mixed Primordial Axe’ Zhou Xing. Brother Zhou, this is the Huang Shengyuan I told you about — we’ve always addressed each other as uncle and nephew.”

Zhan Yunhai, already something of a notorious figure himself in the underworld, had brought Zuo Xingzhou along precisely to serve as a subtle warning: look at what kind of company I keep in the martial world — cross me, and no one will be able to clean up the mess.

Huang Shengyuan clearly understood the message at a glance, and exchanged the customary pleasantries with Zuo Xingzhou, expressing how honored he was to finally meet him. After that, he found a proper opening, apologized to Zuo Xingzhou for the inconvenience, and went off with Zhan Yunhai to a side area of the temple.

Zuo Xingzhou chatted for a while with the sturdy household guards standing nearby, and once he’d gotten a rough sense of their caliber, he crossed his arms and stepped aside, quietly observing the “negotiation” between Zhan Yunhai and Huang Shengyuan from a distance, his mind already turning back to his own current mission.

Just as he’d complained to Ning Ji, the original one-on-one duel with Yue Yun had turned into two-against-one thanks to Zhan Yunhai, which meant his reputation in the underworld wouldn’t ring out quite as loudly. Still, at the very least, his stance against the court would be clearly established, and if Pu Xingui and Cao Jinlong really were recruiting men within the city, he’d at least meet the entry threshold. The remaining issue was exactly who to approach next.

If his martial prowess could stand directly on par with a “direct disciple of Zhou Tong,” all he’d need to do would be to wait for the other side to come find him. But being stuck in this awkward middle ground, he’d have to actively seek them out instead, and would probably need to do something as a show of good faith first, which was rather troublesome. And to make it look like he genuinely “needed work,” he’d probably have to find a gambling den that night and lose a large sum, maybe even cause a scene over it…

Might as well just ask that fool Zhan Yunhai for some money and lose it all — that way it’d look more convincing, and he could think of it as compensation for the man having disrupted his plans…

For this kind of secret operation, plans often couldn’t keep up with reality, and though he wasn’t exactly discouraged by it, he did spend some time mulling over countermeasures in his head.

On another note, he was also rather curious about Ning Ji’s situation. This guy, back in the southwest, had been someone who defied heaven and earth alike, obeying no one except his older brother and sister-in-law — no wait, maybe only the sister-in-law — and back then his go-to phrases had been things like “listen to my advice, let’s just have a fight” and “I can lose, but I won’t kneel,” getting beaten to a pulp by people like Heini and still cursing up a storm the whole time… which made Zuo Xingzhou genuinely curious as to how he’d ended up as a “demon of lust,” reduced to a mere four feet.

Could that androgynous “five-foot demon of lust,” Long Aotian, actually have something exceptional going for him?

From their brief earlier encounter, he’d sensed a certain calm, generous quality about the man — something of a lofty, master-like air. He’d meant to test him a bit more at noon, but the “four-foot demon of lust” brat hadn’t let him come out, and all he’d managed to learn was that the person used throwing knives… Throwing knives? That was a peculiar skill. Coming out of that four-foot brat’s mouth, it made Zuo Xingzhou suspect it might be one of those legendary, never-miss southwestern throwing knife techniques.

If this person was a bodyguard accompanying the Second Young Master out of the southwest, that would make a lot more sense of things…

While he mulled over all this in his mind, glancing back over at Zhan Yunhai and Huang Shengyuan, their negotiation was still ongoing, and it seemed there was no longer any need for things to turn violent…

Suddenly, Zuo Xingzhou’s brow furrowed slightly.

Something about how this was unfolding felt off.

By his original calculation, a meeting between “father-in-law and son-in-law” under these circumstances would surely be difficult to reconcile — even if it didn’t come to blows, Zhan Yunhai should have, at the very least, worked himself into an angry outburst, with no shortage of hostile words and threats exchanged. But it seemed… from start to finish, Zhan Yunhai hadn’t grown angry at all.

What was going on? Was Huang Shengyuan’s negotiating skill really that high, to have proposed something that could suppress Zhan Yunhai’s anger entirely, leaving him instead constantly frowning in deep thought?

Zuo Xingzhou shook his head.

To him, the whole matter was simply a personal favor, helping a friend out. Though he had asked Zuo Wenxuan about the consort selection business, after being sternly warned off, he’d understood exactly what kind of taboo territory this touched: the Emperor’s consort selection was meant to raise money to shore up the court’s finances — the consort herself wasn’t important, but throughout history, any official — especially one in a position of trust — who dared meddle in this kind of private imperial matter would typically find himself sentenced to execution at the very least, and having his family’s property confiscated wouldn’t even be considered unjust.

Thinking you have any standing to interfere in the imperial family’s private business? How many heads do you have to spare?

For this reason, even with his life-and-death bond with Zhan Yunhai, Zuo Xingzhou had no wish to get too involved in — or think too much about — this whole business between him and the Huang family’s young lady. Having shaken his head, he let the matter drop for the time being.

But certain thoughts, before long, would suddenly resurface in his mind—

By the time Huang Shengyuan and Zhan Yunhai had finished their discussion that day, evening had already set in. Looking out from Mount Jiuxian, Fuzhou’s sunset glowed magnificently. Huang Shengyuan intended to have dinner at Wanshou Temple and invited both of them to join, but both Zuo Xingzhou and Zhan Yunhai declined.

Walking back down the mountain path alongside groups of pilgrims heading down as well, Zhan Yunhai’s expression remained visibly grave throughout, while Zuo Xingzhou found himself thinking through his plan to lose everything at a gambling den and cause a scene that night. Just as he was trying to come up with a few comforting words for his companion, a certain thought suddenly crystallized in his mind.

He narrowed his eyes slightly, turning to look at Zhan Yunhai.

The scarred man sensed the gaze and slowly turned his head too. “Brother Zhou… what is it?”

“I… just suddenly thought of something. Brother Zhan, that father-in-law of yours up on the mountain — could he have lied to you about something?”

“…Why do you say that, Brother Zhou?”

“You said it yourself — your father-in-law is dead set on sending his daughter into the palace, even willing to spend eight or nine thousand taels to make it happen. He won’t compromise. And knowing your temperament, Brother Zhan, I noticed the two of you talked for quite a while without ever once flaring up into an argument… That Huang Shengyuan must have told you something misleading, making you think there’s still some way to make this work out?”

“…” Zhan Yunhai opened his mouth, but for a moment couldn’t get any words out.

“…Brother Zhan, this is really your own private business, and it’s probably not my place to pry, but the martial world is a dangerous place. In my view, on a matter this significant, if Huang Shengyuan told you there’s still some solution that benefits everyone — isn’t that clearly just him deceiving you? If you’d argued with him, had a real falling out — well, that would just be something to settle later. But the way you look right now, it seems as though you’ve actually reached some kind of agreement with him, and I… I’m genuinely a bit worried.”

“…Brother Zhou, your keen eye truly does catch every detail — you really have been thinking of my situation.”

“Ha ha ha ha, if I only had two axes to my name, I wouldn’t have survived this long in the martial world!”

“…Actually, though Brother Zhou and I share a bond forged through life and death, this business concerning the Huang family — I have several brothers, and it’s not something easy to talk about.” Zhan Yunhai looked hesitant, but sighed and finally spoke. “What my father-in-law told me today is, frankly, a rather serious matter. Brother Zhou, I won’t hide it from you — I’ve been wanting to discuss this with you, but I’ve been hesitant, afraid of endangering your life. My own life, if it’s lost, is no great loss…”

The tides of the world churned in chaos, and unexpected undercurrents inevitably surfaced in certain places. In this moment, beneath a clear sky with scattered clouds, a handful of pilgrims dotted the mountain path descending below. Hearing his friend say this much, Zuo Xingzhou had already realized something was seriously wrong. He straightened up slightly, though still with a hint of lazy nonchalance, and put an arm around his friend’s shoulders.

“In my whole life, I’ve never once feared losing it. But hearing you speak so seriously, Brother Zhan, I find myself genuinely intrigued. Here’s what we’ll do — think it over carefully, and we’ll find somewhere quiet to talk about it in detail. Two heads are better than one… don’t let your father-in-law fool you. Worst case scenario, we just go and snatch your little Xiaoxiang out by force — that’s no big deal either!”

“Ah.” Zhan Yunhai nodded slightly, as if sighing, and patted Zuo Xingzhou’s shoulder in turn.

In the evening, the mountain breeze was pleasant, and the two of them walked with the wind at their backs, making their way down the mountain and then toward the lively part of the city. The sun gradually sank westward, the golden crow giving way to the jade rabbit, and points of light gradually flickered on across the city, spreading over the marketplaces and along the riverbanks. Zuo Xingzhou had originally wanted to find a familiar restaurant, but given how serious Zhan Yunhai seemed, the two of them instead bought some food and two jugs of wine, returning to the run-down courtyard they were temporarily staying in to lay out their evening meal.

Only then did Zhan Yunhai bring up the matter that concerned Zuo Xingzhou.

“…In the past, since it concerned Xiaoxiang’s family affairs, there were things I couldn’t easily talk about, afraid of stirring up trouble,” he said. “Brother Zhou, the Huang family is a large and prominent household in Putian, appearing on the surface to be primarily in the tea trade, but privately, they’re also involved in smuggling salt and tea.”

Zuo Xingzhou poured him a cup of wine, not particularly surprised. “Fujian’s not that big a place — whatever business can be done, who isn’t doing a bit of it on the side? Nothing strange about that.”

“They were involved in the ‘yellow dog killings’ too.” Zhan Yunhai said. “Brother Zhou, they want to rebel.”

The flame on the table flickered slightly. Zuo Xingzhou rubbed his chin, raised his cup of wine, and drank it down.

…

The lamplight swayed.

A carriage rolled through the dark, long streets of the city. Yinping sat up front on the driver’s bench, keeping watch on their surroundings, while behind her, Zhou Pei sat at the edge of the carriage curtain, gazing out at the nighttime streets.

The handover with Luo Shouwei had been completed that afternoon, after which Yinping had accompanied the Princess Imperial out to attend a private, small-scale banquet. Those who met with Zhou Pei were representatives of great clans from inside and outside the city, who had come to sign contracts purchasing some of the Princess Imperial’s holdings. Once the discussions concluded, without eating much of anything, the carriage procession had set off toward the eastern part of the city.

The route they’d taken wasn’t the road back to the Princess Imperial’s residence, and Yinping had begun to suspect that, with a new person now in charge of security, the Princess Imperial wanted to test whether the newcomer lacked authority, wandering about aimlessly, and had raised a mild objection — but according to the Princess Imperial, she simply wanted to take a look at an area on the east side of the city slated for development.

“We’ve sold off a few buildings — of course we need to think about how to develop some of the other properties, so we can keep selling in the future. Yinping, some things simply can’t be understood by sitting in the residence all day staring at numbers.”

She gave this explanation, but soon found the night’s scenery too interesting to stay on topic, and instead began chatting enthusiastically about mischief from her childhood — even recounting one time she’d hidden inside a chest trying to sneak out of the house, and had nearly been unable to get back out.

In the end, she never did say how she’d finally gotten out.

“That’s Gold and Silver Bridge over there, isn’t it?”

At a certain point, Zhou Pei reached a hand out from behind the curtain, pointing toward a street not far ahead. “Go that way.”

“…Your Highness.”

“There are two properties in Gold Bridge Ward registered under the Princess Imperial’s household, and there’s a shop in Silver Bridge Ward that sells ice cream, which is also ours.” The princess smiled as she explained the business logic. “This area around Gold and Silver Bridge used to be dirty and disorderly, mainly a fish market — later an order came down moving the fish market behind Silver Bridge Ward, and that’s how the night market got started. Actually, if we moved the fish market somewhere else, prices in this area could go up even further… let’s go take a look.”

The procession headed toward Gold and Silver Bridge, and once they reached the entrance to the market, Zhou Pei, dressed in a plain dark outfit, stepped down from the carriage and called Yinping over, walking into Silver Bridge Ward together.

“…Your Highness.” Yinping tried once more to dissuade her.

“You and I are both in plain clothes — outsiders won’t recognize who we are.” Zhou Pei laughed. “Besides, didn’t you mention just this morning that this is the very spot where Brother Yun got into that fight with the two thugs the other night?”

“Mm… but…”

“That’s what made me think of it, seeing Gold and Silver Bridge.” Zhou Pei glanced at her. “Yinping, those two thugs fought a whole battle with Brother Yun and still managed to escape in the end, with a pile of tables and chairs smashed all around them. Given Brother Yun’s skill, the scene at the time must have been fairly brutal, wasn’t it?”

“Mm, that’s right… there was a lot of blood spilled too…”

“I’ve seen Brother Yun’s skill for myself, Yinping — so it just occurred to me, having just seen such a fierce battle, with all that blood spilled, why would that fat auntie’s nephew dare to grab hold of Brother Yun that same night and try to extort money from him, and even manage to make him that furious?”

“…” Yinping paused for a moment, taken aback.

“Let’s take a walk.” Zhou Pei winked at her, then headed into the night market. Yinping hurried to follow.

They hadn’t walked far before they spotted the steamed rice cake stall.

More eye-catching still was the peddler’s stall standing beside the snack stand, where two fine-looking young men stood. One of them stood there with a plain, gentle smile, while the other, sturdier-looking of the two, stood on a stool beside the stall, waving his arms about like noodles.

“…Come get your stuff — all kinds of fine goods from Jiangnan, gold and silver, jewelry and jade, self-defense weapons, and Zhengyi sect elixirs to cure the sick and strengthen the healthy, all stolen right off the Jiangnan battlefield, buy it and you’re getting a steal, and the latest edition of ‘The Legend of Yan Jiuniang’ along with her signature sword ohhhhh…”

The auntie at the neighboring rice cake stand cursed loudly: “You crazy fool, keep it down, you’re scaring off my customers…”

The young man on the stool stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m going to make you so mad, la la la—”

Zhou Pei stood there watching this scene with a smile, while Yinping beside her frowned slightly. Across the road, the plainly smiling young man standing by the stall seemed to have spotted Zhou Pei as a promising “fat sheep.” Meanwhile, the other young man, arms flailing about, jumped down from his stool at that moment.

Yinping’s gaze suddenly sharpened, and she stepped forward instinctively — a reflex born of her duty. At the same instant, the young man who’d jumped down from the stool across the way turned his head sharply to look over — then turned back away just as quickly.

Their gazes met for an instant.

“What’s wrong?”

Zhou Pei, half-blocked by Yinping’s body, grew curious.

“Yue Yun’s been played for a fool. There’s an expert over there, not sure where they came from…”

At the same moment, across the street, Ning Ji jumped down, spun in a circle, and stood beside Qu Longjun, pretending to rearrange the merchandise. “Don’t go talking to that fat sheep over there on your own.”

“Hm?”

Ning Ji tilted his head, keeping his expression neutral. “Probably rich, but that bodyguard beside her is quite something — she spotted me.”

“Mm.” Qu Longjun nodded, then added in a low voice, “It’s a female bodyguard.”

“She trains with a spear.”

“How can you tell?”

“She stands like a spear.”

Across the street.

“For you to call her an expert, she must come from a family with a strong martial tradition… Does he practice monkey-fist style?” Zhou Pei asked curiously.

“No, more likely swordsmanship.”

“How can you tell that?”

“…Your Highness, don’t you find him a bit obnoxious just now?”

“But I practice swordsmanship too.”

Zhou Pei laughed, giving Yinping a light, playful tap on the head.

The night market bustled with people coming and going, lively and full of noise. As the two parties at either end of the street exchanged wary glances for a moment, since the young man’s side showed no intention of causing trouble, the sharp edge of vigilance that had risen in Yinping out of her protective duty gradually faded away.

…

In the run-down courtyard, lamplight flickered.

“When it comes to killing ‘yellow dogs,’ which of the great clans in Fujian these days doesn’t have some connection to it? For those of us scraping by in the underworld, talk of rebellion isn’t such a taboo subject either. But now that there’s a golden opportunity to send a daughter into the palace, wouldn’t his own Huang family want to clean up their image instead?”

“Huang Shengyuan’s position within the Huang family is that of strategist.” Zhan Yunhai took another sip of wine. “If they truly wanted to clean up their image, it should be Huang Bailong’s own daughter going into the palace, or at least someone sent by the main branch. That’s what he told me today, and thinking it over, it does make some sense.”

“…That’s true enough.” Zuo Xingzhou nodded. “So what does he want you to do?”

Zhan Yunhai fell silent for a moment.

“…Pu Xingui, Cao Jinlong, Chen Shuangran, and the others are currently near Fuzhou, preparing to carry out something big. To make it happen, they’ve been pulling in people from all over — even, apparently, some brutal, formidable grandmasters and experts summoned from far beyond Fujian’s borders…”

“Brutal, formidable… grandmasters?”

Zhan Yunhai nodded. “Mm, that’s exactly what Huang Shengyuan told me.”

“So what does he want you to do?”

“Huang Shengyuan said this scheme Chen Shuangran and the others are planning is extremely large in scale, and highly organized — nothing like those reckless assassination attempts that Tie Tianying kept foiling before. If this plan succeeds, it would surely deal a heavy blow to the current court’s authority and to the dog Emperor’s dignity, and the Huang family could never afford to be tied to a court in such a weakened state. So sending his daughter into the palace is just a front — what he really wants is for me to go find Chen Shuangran and help her see this through to completion…”

“He’s saying… the whole scheme of sending his daughter into the palace was set up just to get you to act?”

“That’s what he said.” Zhan Yunhai gave a hollow laugh. “He knows I won’t believe it, and I can guess he probably has other arrangements in mind too. But regardless, right now the great clans of Fujian are all deeply dissatisfied with the dog Emperor’s tyrannical ways. Huang Shengyuan said they’d rather see the dog Emperor dead, or driven out entirely, than have the court remain in Fuzhou any longer — this is a struggle for power. Though they’re each just entrenched in their own territories, clans of a few thousand or tens of thousands of people, when it comes to facing off against a court that rules over hundreds of millions, they’re not willing to compromise even the slightest bit.”

He paused. “I think what he’s saying is genuine, too… Brother Zhou, I want to ask for your help with this.”

“…”

The lamplight flickered.

Zuo Xingzhou leaned back quietly against his chair, saying nothing.

He needed to hold his composure.

Outside the courtyard, the night hung hazy and indistinct. A breeze was gradually beginning to stir.