Only a faint, cool breeze drifted into the room that night. Through the side window, one could make out the thin scattering of stars overhead, and the night watchman struck the hour of midnight.

Zhan Yunhai’s voice drifted over from nearby.

“…As for family background, there’s really nothing worth mentioning… As a child I lived in a small village. When I was seven, Fujian suffered a drought, and our village fought with a neighboring one over water — a lot of people in the village were killed in the fighting, and my father’s leg was broken… With no one left to work the fields, my mother took me out to farm, and a few months later, bandits came down from the mountains. My father died, and my mother… was violated, and lost her mind after that…”

“…Then… still seven years old… my mother, in a daze, carried me down to the seaside and handed me over to a ship captain, and I started life at sea. I never saw my mother again after that. Life at sea isn’t bad, you know, Brother Zhou — out on the water, there are no rules, once you leave land, life and death are up to fate. I scrubbed decks for two years, then started learning to handle a blade… that’s where I picked up my violent streak. But the captain was a good man, taught me to read a few books — maybe because he could tell I wasn’t stupid, he had his mind set on me taking care of his funeral rites someday…”

“…Never did get the chance to see that through. At fourteen, we ran into real trouble at sea, our ship went down, and I jumped into the water… While I was in the water, I saw them lining up the captured men along the ship’s rail, killing them one by one, dropping them into the sea… I clung to a plank and drifted for who knows how long, and by sheer luck, I didn’t die. After that, I didn’t much want to go back to sea…”

“…Tried to find a way back to look for my mother, never found her. I’d been too young when I left to remember much, and from what I later pieced together, she’d probably gone mad. Better mad than dead, I suppose… I had no other ideas at the time, so I went looking for the bandits in the nearby mountains — snuck into the very bandit den that had killed my father when I was fifteen, and by sixteen, I finally found a chance to get them fighting among themselves. I drugged them too, planning to knock out and tie up the leaders, then hang their family members one by one in front of them — who knew their families would turn out to be quite fierce themselves…”

“…A bunch of women and children came at me with knives and forks, nearly killed me. I had to fight ruthlessly, set fire to the leaders myself, and only then did the women and children flee, crying and screaming… I was covered in blood from head to toe, freed a few innocent people who’d been thrown in the dungeon, and that’s how I met Xiaoxiang — she saved me too.”

“…Not long after, some people from the Huang family came and brought me back to their estate. When I woke up, they asked what had happened, and I told them about my parents’ deaths, and most of the Huang family started calling me a hero after that — Zhan Yunhai the hero, heh heh…”

…

“…Later I even went and studied a bit, learned some proper manners and etiquette… Brother Zhou, have you ever met someone like that in your life? Someone who makes you want to live your whole life properly, well, for their sake, and not the way you used to? Let me tell you, Xiaoxiang is that person, in my eyes. All these years fighting and killing in the underworld, sometimes I get scared thinking back on it, and at those times I think of her — when I’m out there and come across something good, I bring it back to give to her…”

“…Brother Zhou, Xiaoxiang is my whole life. If that dog Emperor dares take her in, I’ll kill the dog Emperor myself… heh heh, don’t mind me rambling, it’s just this heat.”

“You’re the local here, and yet you’re complaining about the heat more than I am today.” Beside him on the bed, Zuo Xingzhou lay with his hands pillowed behind his head.

“Hey, Brother Zhou, I think of you as my own brother… honestly, with something this big, I’ve been a bit anxious myself, worried I’m dragging you into a mess…”

“What nonsense are you talking now. This isn’t the first time we’ve risked our lives together, and besides, fortune favors the bold — you’ve already given me your share of the silver, what more is there to say… At most, once I’ve helped make your marriage to that girl happen, I’ll give the two of you a big red envelope as a wedding gift.”

“Heh heh, I’ll hold you to those good words, Brother Zhou… By the way, your own family background out there, must have been decent too, right?”

“…You could tell?”

“Little by little, I could pick up on some things… but you’re different from those other clan sons — you’re willing to fight, willing to kill, more like me in that way.”

“You’re not wrong. Back in the Central Plains, mine was originally a family of scholars.” Zuo Xingzhou gazed out at the starry sky.

“Then…”

“What’s there to ‘then’ about — a son of a great clan, from a great clan that no longer exists at all…” Zuo Xingzhou turned his head to look at him. “How could I not learn to fight for my life?”

Across from him, Zhan Yunhai fell silent for a moment.

“…So that’s how it was… These years, was it really that brutal out there?”

“…”

“I’ve seen a fair share of people over the years who’ve fled here with their whole families in tow — honestly, I figured it was probably nothing more than that…”

Zuo Xingzhou let out a soft sigh.

“…Take, for instance, those bandits who became my enemies — this time they’ve surrounded the whole of Fujian, and the entire province can’t beat them, everyone has to hand over gold and silver, even hand over the women of their households, and… it’s been over ten years, and I still haven’t been able to avenge myself.”

“…” Zhan Yunhai fell silent for a while. “That’s truly a bitter thing to bear.”

After a moment, he added, “Brother Zhou, do you think… will these Jurchens end up fighting their way into Fujian too?”

“…Why bring that up all of a sudden?” Zuo Xingzhou looked over at him.

Zhan Yunhai stared up at the ceiling, thought for a moment, then smiled. “Actually… it’s just that I’ve been thinking about the future with Xiaoxiang. In the past… whenever I got tired of fighting and killing out there, I’d think, when will these days ever come to an end? Xiaoxiang’s told me too, if it’s at all possible, she’d rather we find some place where no one knows us and settle down peacefully. It’s not that simple, of course — around here in Fujian, if you don’t align with a clan, life is hard — but I still think about it sometimes, that we’re not exactly young anymore, I’m twenty-two, Xiaoxiang’s eighteen. Once this business is finished, once Xiaoxiang marries me, I don’t think I’ll want to keep fighting out there anymore…”

“…”

“Once you’ve got someone in your heart, you’ve got something to hold onto. Sometimes I think about retiring for good, and other times I think, those Jurchens are so vicious — they’ve conquered the Central Plains, then conquered Jiangnan too, and if they eventually push into Fujian, what then? But I figure, with all these mountains in Fujian, Xiaoxiang and I could hide away in them and probably weather the disaster…”

“…”

“…But what about you, Brother Zhou? What do you think?”

“…Huh?” Zuo Xingzhou, who’d just been listening quietly, seemed slightly caught off guard. “What… what do I think about what?”

“Most people out there don’t have much fire in them, but you’re different, Brother Zhou. Look at you — you come from a prominent family, and you’ve lost your people too. If one day the Jurchens do fight their way into Fujian, what would you do, Brother Zhou? Would you pick up a blade and fight them, or come hide in the mountains with us?”

“…” Zuo Xingzhou fell silent.

Then he heard Zhan Yunhai say: “Brother Zhou, let’s… become sworn brothers.”

“…Hm?”

“Tonight, I keep thinking, this whole business ought to have some kind of resolution, one way or another. Xiaoxiang and I can head into the mountains, but what about you, Brother Zhou? And then it occurred to me — I have no parents left, and you have no family left either, and the two of us get along so well — why not just swear brotherhood over a bundle of straw? That way, if you ever find yourself, someday, gritting your teeth to avenge your family, I’ll be there to help you. And if the enemy proves too strong and we have to retreat into the mountains, we can go together, looking out for each other.”

Starlight glimmered faintly, and the wind held its silence in the quiet room. Zuo Xingzhou turned his head to look at him, his expression shifting slightly, saying nothing for a long while. At some point, he finally let out a sigh:

“…You’re out of your mind.”

“You’ve got to have a bit of madness in you to make it in this world.” Starlight seeped in through the window as the figure rolled off the bed. “Come on, Brother Zhou, let’s go swear brotherhood right now over a bundle of straw — an oath like the peach garden of old — who knows, maybe a hundred years from now, it’ll still be told as a fine tale.”

Under the light of stars and moon, the two figures stepped out of the room and, in the run-down courtyard, planted their straw and made their vows, exchanging a bit of wild talk before becoming sworn brothers.

By now it was already deep into the second half of the night, and most of the lights across Fuzhou had dimmed, the air growing cooler — the perfect hour for people to be sound asleep. An hour or two more, and the first risers would begin lighting their lamps once again, officials climbing into their sedan chairs, vendors pulling down the shutters of their roadside shops, welcoming the start of a new day.

On the twenty-second of the fifth month, the imperial court held its morning session, beginning amid the cool morning breeze, and by the time the sun rose, the atmosphere within the palace grounds seemed to grow just as heated as the weather itself.

The mood at court that morning was tense.

Past the hour of the snake, the officials, having been dismissed, scattered to their various duties. Cheng Zhouhai gave a few instructions, spent nearly half an hour in the imperial study, and only then left to head toward the Palace Guard Command located to the side of the palace grounds.

The Palace Guard Command now served as the seat of command for the Fujian court’s imperial guards, responsible on one hand for palace security, and on the other, for overseeing the secret service. The nominal head of the office was currently Cheng Zhouhai, while actual duties were handled by Deputy Commissioner Tie Tianying.

As one of the outstanding administrators left behind by the late Right Chancellor Qin Siyuan, Cheng Zhouhai possessed a meticulous and deeply calculating mind. In the past, during the period when Zhou Pei had taken over the Princess Imperial’s household, he had provided extensive assistance, earning him a status something like a half-mentor to her, and he had also handled a great deal of secretive intelligence work over the years.

After the court fled south to Fujian, as a jack-of-all-trades, he shouldered no small burden of responsibilities — internally, he coordinated with the Princess Imperial’s household on various matters, oversaw the secret service, and managed both the coordination and the behind-the-scenes dealings with the various great clans of Fuzhou; externally, he had also been sent, from time to time, as an envoy to the southwest, to He Wen’s territory, and elsewhere… In short, whatever business was troublesome, sensitive, and required a steady hand, he often appeared in the role of firefighter to handle it. As for matters at the Palace Guard Command itself, with Tie Tianying proving quite capable, Cheng Zhouhai rarely had much reason to concern himself with it.

As for Wenren Buer, the more cautious and diplomatically-minded of his fellow disciples, the young Emperor had sent him to head his most treasured Ministry of Works, serving as the Emperor’s own proxy in matters of natural science and technology, carrying out his various ideas on the Emperor’s behalf. But that’s a matter for another time.

Entering the courtyard of the Palace Guard Command and proceeding to an inner room, Cheng Zhouhai found Tie Tianying, Zuo Wenxuan, and Song Xiaoming — Tie Tianying’s disciple and one of the current chief constables of the Ministry of Justice — already waiting inside. Zuo Wenxuan had grabbed himself a round fan and was fanning himself; once Cheng Zhouhai entered, he requested one as well.

“…This morning’s court session was chaotic beyond belief, Lord Tie, you must already know about it. The situation both inside and outside the court is tense right now — regarding the case from the end of the fourth month, and all the various rumors circulating outside, both the Ministry of Justice and the Palace Guard Command took a fair share of criticism. His Majesty seemed rather anxious too, saying it’s just one woman, why can’t we catch her yet, and outside people are practically saying she’s about to storm the palace itself…”

He paused briefly here. “Of course, the specific reasons go beyond just that. But right now, I want to sit down with the three of you and work out exactly what we do know, and roughly what the overall situation looks like, so I can report back properly to His Majesty.”

As the official personally responsible for the Emperor’s safety, Tie Tianying held the authority to report on many matters directly, but with the entire case currently stalled at the halfway mark, without any decisive progress, he couldn’t simply hand over a jumble of fragmented intelligence and information straight to the top. Yet, having been challenged at court that morning, the group now needed to work out some kind of preliminary assessment together.

Once Cheng Zhouhai finished speaking, Tie Tianying nodded and gestured to Song Xiaoming, who immediately stood up.

“Reporting to you, sir. From what’s circulating in the city, it still looks mostly like smoke and mirrors so far,” Song Xiaoming said. “Since the Hou Guan County case broke at the end of the fourth month, I’ve already arrested and interrogated quite a few people in the city, and made discreet inquiries in various directions. What I’ve found is that, here in Fuzhou proper, while the rumors surrounding Chen Shuangran are told in vivid detail, the actual activity in the underworld hasn’t been all that significant. The various rumors she’s spreading around the city look more like she’s simply building up hype.”

“Building up hype… they haven’t actually done anything yet, and they’re already stirring up a storm to make it seem bigger — what are they trying to accomplish with that?”

Cheng Zhouhai glanced around at everyone.

“Lord Tie, Master Song, and I discussed this earlier, and we’ve settled on two possibilities,” Zuo Wenxuan said. “The first is that Chen Shuangran, having tasted success from that disturbance at the end of the fourth month, might genuinely believe — being a naive, overconfident young woman — that she’s come up with some flawless scheme, and wants to build up hype first, then act, hoping to make her name in one decisive stroke. The second possibility is that if they’re already throwing up smoke before doing anything, then perhaps they themselves are the bigger smokescreen.”

“Underworld figures aren’t worth relying on.” Tie Tianying spoke up. “This was already a firm conclusion back when Master Ning Yi was still active during the Jinghan court, and I’ve come to appreciate it deeply myself. Luring together a gang of ruffians with promises of fame and fortune from the martial world, hoping to carry out an assassination or some ‘grand undertaking’ together — such schemes are far too easy for outsiders to infiltrate. When Ning Yi ran the underworld affairs at the Secret Investigation Bureau, no small number of assassination plots were dismantled before they even began, and in more than a few cases, he even personally went and hunted down the families involved, all but wiping them out root and branch. We’re doing much the same thing now.”

Zuo Wenxuan nodded. “Back then, the arrangement was, after wiping out the Liangshan bandits, we trained up a group of people and released two or three of them into the underworld each month, usually posing as being short on money, greedy for fame, or simply fond of violence as cover. In reality, as long as they’re willing to fight and take risks, it doesn’t take long before someone hires them.”

“So we still have no solid information yet?”

“The situation on the mountain roads has been a bit chaotic this year.” Tie Tianying said. “Ever since the Fair Party’s internal split last year, Zhou Shang was the first to be crushed, and the countless desperate men under his command scattered like startled birds. By the start of spring this year, we noticed a lot of people who make their living by the blade coming down from the north into Fujian. Wanting money, their first choice tends to be killing officials, and some of the great clans are exploiting this method to recruit fighters. The people we’ve sent out haven’t managed to get close to the core figures of these great clans yet, so we can’t confirm which other clans might be involved.”

“We’re about seventy percent confident about a few of the branch clans, at this point.” Song Xiaoming said.

Cheng Zhouhai waved a hand. “For now, it’s not a good time to be raiding homes and executing people.”

Hearing this, Song Xiaoming nodded and said nothing further.

Beside him, Tie Tianying pulled a stack of documents from the desk.

“Aside from Chen Shuangran’s rumor-mongering in the city, which has stirred up considerable public unease, there are currently two things we can confirm. First, reports from the pigeon post confirm that Pu Xingui and Cao Jinlong have already come north to Fuzhou, and on the thirteenth of the fifth month, we briefly spotted what we believe was Cao Jinlong’s trail outside the city, but he’s skilled enough in martial arts that after injuring several constables, he managed to escape in the end…”

“Second, while there’s been little movement inside the city itself for now, in places like Putian and Jian’ou, some great clans have already begun encouraging the bandits who previously killed officials to come to Fuzhou, saying there’s great fortune to be had. Though we still can’t identify the major figures behind it, as Little Zuo pointed out, this is likely another, larger smokescreen. Underworld types alone can’t accomplish much, but stirring up this many of them to come here in the first place is not something Pu Xingui and Chen Shuangran, on their own, could pull off.”

As he spoke, Tie Tianying pulled the case files out of a bag one by one. Cheng Zhouhai picked them up to look through, frowning. “It does seem to line up with what everyone suspected — another one, or several, of the great clans are looking to use this commotion as cover to make a move.”

“There’s really nothing new under the sun.” Zuo Wenxuan said. “In the more than two years since coming to Fuzhou, Lord Tie has personally dismantled over a hundred and twenty assassination attempts, large and small — even the dullest person ought to learn something from that by now. As Master Ning always used to say, this kind of thing can’t be entrusted to a disorganized mob — forging iron requires you to be hard yourself. To pull off something disruptive here in Fuzhou, it has to either be the great clans’ own core loyalists, or a small handful of people Chen Shuangran personally trusts. Bring in too many people, and there are no secrets left…”

“But with this many people coming in, we still need our own preparations in place. After Lord Tie and Master Song shared their intelligence with us, we’ve also activated some of our existing arrangements. There are twelve main routes by which people can enter Fuzhou from outside the city, two of which have historically proven the most problematic. We’ve quietly been spreading word about these two routes over the past year to build up their reputation, and as a result, plenty of seasoned smugglers, or people with questionable identities, have mostly been coming and going through these two routes. Since the beginning of this month, we’ve already stationed people to keep watch on both roads, and we have in fact registered a number of suspicious individuals so far…”

As he spoke, Zuo Wenxuan handed over a file of records as well.

Cheng Zhouhai nodded, and after a moment, said, “So that’s everything we know for now?”

No one spoke further.

After a while, Song Xiaoming, as chief constable, left first, leaving Cheng Zhouhai, Tie Tianying, and Zuo Wenxuan alone in the room. Cheng Zhouhai took a sip of water, then said, “A storm’s brewing. Today’s court session was chaos — on the surface, it was over His Majesty’s consort selection. Some argued he shouldn’t take in daughters of merchant families, saying it would corrupt public morale; others argued against taking in officials’ daughters, worried it might lead to disaster from consort clans. But in reality, everyone kept circling back to the idea that someone’s stirring up trouble behind the scenes — rumors flying thick enough to reach everyone’s ears can really only be explained by the pressures of the times.”

As core members of the Fuzhou court’s inner circle, the other two in the room understood exactly what he meant.

The Emperor’s current consort selection was meant to draw in money from outside to shore up the depleted treasury, but as things came to a head, in order to win over allies and divide enemies, word had also been quietly spread that this round of consort selection would consider taking in the daughter of a local gentry official, the daughter of a merchant, and the daughter of a commoner family — and the rumor further claimed that once these consorts entered the palace, the Emperor would set aside any past grievances entirely.

On the other hand, while the positions for a gentry daughter and a merchant’s daughter were supposedly fixed, the slot for a commoner’s daughter left enormous room for maneuvering — or perhaps, given how badly the imperial house needed money right now, the three consort positions could easily become four… In short, alongside gathering funds, the Emperor was also using this as a move to sow division among Fujian’s great clans, and inevitably, some among them had grown anxious over it and were determined to strike back.

“But the root of it all still comes down to the maritime trade fleet.” Zuo Wenxuan said. “If the court’s fleet comes back in the second half of the year, we’ll finally be able to breathe again. Right now is exactly when everyone’s nerves are at their most frayed — it’s no surprise things feel this on edge. This Chen Shuangran woman actually has some genuine cunning to her — the rumors she’s been spreading have landed precisely on the moment when everyone at court is at their most anxious. Once everyone believes that something going wrong wouldn’t be surprising at all, it genuinely does become more likely that something will.”

“Within and around the palace, I can guarantee His Majesty’s safety.” Tie Tianying said. “But as for catching Pu Xingui, Chen Shuangran, and the rest — I honestly can’t say we have full confidence in that just yet.”

Cheng Zhouhai waved a hand. “Everyone already knows, really, that there’s more than just one or two families covering for Chen Shuangran and the rest behind the scenes. They want to rebel but don’t dare do it openly, so Pu Xingui and Chen Shuangran are the fronts they’ve set up. Once the fleet returns in the second half of the year, the court will be able to catch its breath for a while — which is exactly why they can’t help but take a gamble now. Thinking it through, the most critical period coming up has to be the consort selection…”

“On our end, we think we need to guard against several possibilities at once.” Zuo Wenxuan said. “Chen Shuangran seems arrogant, but the methods she’s shown so far aren’t bad at all. As a pirate’s daughter, though she appears to be used by the various great clans, could it also be that she’s using them in turn? Underworld figures can’t be relied upon for major undertakings, but relying on the clans behind them to mobilize bandits who’ve already killed officials elsewhere, bringing them into Fuzhou to cause trouble — that’s a problem we absolutely need to devote resources toward preventing, regardless.”

“At the same time, Chen Shuangran surely has her own plan as well — I suspect she’ll either use elite fighters or her own core loyalists, and that’s the second layer of the problem we need to guard against. And from intelligence that’s come in previously, though unconfirmed, the enemy may be targeting the Princess Imperial, Master Li, and those of us who’ve returned as envoys from the southwest — possibly planning, if an assassination attempt against His Majesty proves hopeless, to strike at those around him first. That’s a consideration we genuinely need to stay alert to.”

“As for the third layer… will the great clans behind Chen Shuangran actually trust her completely? With Pu Xingui and Chen Shuangran deliberately laying down two layers of smokescreen, what exactly are these great clans plotting underneath it all? This is something we haven’t been able to detect much of yet. Honestly, if it were simply a matter of openly mobilizing some reform-minded officials to submit memorials and argue it out at court, that would be the simplest problem to deal with…”

By now it was nearly noon, and outside the courtyard, the cicadas in the trees droned on without pause, with barely a breath of wind. The three of them in the room talked for a while longer, and once they’d sketched out a basic outline of the situation, Cheng Zhouhai went to report back to Jun Wu. In truth, everyone had already sensed it: before the maritime trade fleet returned in the second half of the year, the entire court was likely to face wave after wave of shocks.

For some of the great clans accustomed to their own local power, everything had already become clear: the new sovereign’s very existence did not align with their interests.

And so, before the dust could settle, they had no choice but to take the gamble.

…

At noon, the sun beat down on Fuzhou, filling the city with a stuffy heat.

Ning Ji and Qu Longjun wandered around the city and had lunch at a riverside restaurant on the west side of the city. With the sun so intense, the pedestrians and vendors along the street all moved with a lazy sluggishness. The restaurant had windows open on all four sides, letting in a light breeze off the riverside, sunlight spilling halfway across the room and landing along the edge of their table. Satisfied after their meal, they sat by the window, gazing out at the scenery around the city, cicadas droning in the distance — a lazy, peaceful afternoon.

“The Jiangnan I imagined as a child… this is exactly what it looked like.”

Qu Longjun smiled as she told him about things from her childhood — her face a lovely oval shape, dimples appearing when she smiled.

Ning Ji looked at her and thought of the phrase “so content one forgets to go home,” and then felt as though he’d just discovered the true meaning behind that old saying.

His scholarship had made further progress.

Fuzhou really wasn’t bad, after all…

…

Before leaving the courtyard, Zuo Xingzhou left behind a simple coded signal.

He and his newly sworn brother Zhan Yunhai made their way through the streets and alleys of Fuzhou.

He’d also prepared a few contingencies.

By Zhan Yunhai’s estimation, Huang Shengyuan wasn’t likely to make a move against him, but the meal Pu Xingui, Chen Shuangran, and the rest were serving up might not be so easy to swallow either. Going in this time, if everything went smoothly, working for them would be one thing — but if there turned out to be anything shady going on underneath, the two sworn brothers needed to be prepared to make a swift exit as well.

Though he couldn’t reveal his true identity, Zuo Xingzhou actually harbored no real reservations about the sworn brotherhood between them. Zhan Yunhai was an extremely loyal man, and his temperament suited Zuo Xingzhou well; the two of them had collaborated quite satisfyingly on several occasions in the past. He’d even thought before that, given the chance, he might persuade Zhan Yunhai to abandon his criminal ways, and the two of them could form a duo that might well surpass the southwest’s so-called “Twin Terrors of Darkness,” Little Black and the Cripple.

But all that was for later. For now, the most important matter remained the intelligence concerning Chen Shuangran and the other rebels.

Since the court had taken root in Fujian, the new sovereign, having learned bitter lessons from the past, had thrown himself into a determined effort at revitalization. Developing natural science and pushing forward maritime trade were secondary concerns — what mattered most was that, on many fronts, he was even laying the early groundwork to enlighten the minds of the common people. For those who had returned from the southwest, this, more than anything else, was what genuinely stirred their enthusiasm and made them willing to put in real effort.

Among the southwest’s “Four Peoples” principles, nationhood was a rallying cry for unity, while livelihood and civil rights represented the actual, concrete interests at stake — but realizing these two ultimately hinged on one fundamental core: the enlightenment of the people’s minds. Without raising that public consciousness, even if power were handed briefly into the people’s hands — much as land had been redistributed to peasants time and again throughout history — it would eventually be seized back and stripped away entirely.

As people who had received their education within the core circles of the southwest, even if their understanding varied in depth, they generally all understood that what Master Ning sought to accomplish was, through methods unseen in a thousand years, to systematically elevate the entire society, ultimately ensuring that certain benefits could remain firmly in the hands of the common people. And throughout this process, admittedly, no one could say for certain which step at which moment was the correct one to take.

And if the Emperor genuinely wished to enlighten the people’s minds, eventually moving toward “constitutional monarchy,” then the southeastern court, in effect, would become a “comrade” in this vast social transformation the southwest had initiated — and it was precisely this that would earn him the wholehearted, willing support of all those who had returned having studied in the southwest.

Or, put another way, there existed one small possibility: if the southwest someday moved too fast and collapsed under its own momentum, who could say that the southeastern court, holding the mantle of “legitimate orthodoxy,” couldn’t use “constitutional monarchy” to usher the entire society into a new era instead?

Having journeyed from the southwest to the southeast, having witnessed such magnificent, sweeping changes, the members of the Zuo family, in truth, also wanted to become protagonists in their own right.

The whole process was, of course, arduous.

Especially here in Fujian, even Zuo Xingzhou himself could feel just how fierce the friction over local policy had become. Every fragment of this struggle for power carried nothing gentle about it, and after a year or two, the various great clans had gradually adapted to the court’s tactics — which was exactly why, starting in the fourth month, they had launched their counterattack through people like Chen Shuangran and Pu Xingui.

These people needed to be rooted out and eliminated as quickly as possible…

By the customs of the underworld, that day, once they’d found their contact and had their identities verified, the two of them were led through several winding streets and alleys.

Once it was further confirmed that no one was following them, the two boarded a carriage and traveled a long distance with the compartment sealed shut.

Eventually, they exited the city through the southern gate.

That afternoon, the two of them were led to a manor on the southern outskirts of Fuzhou.

This appeared to be the private residence of some great clan. By the time the carriage came to a stop, they were already inside the estate grounds. A steward-looking man exchanged a word with the driver, then led the two of them further inside.

Before long, the two entered an inner courtyard.

By now evening was approaching. This was a courtyard featuring a rockery garden and a pond, with two rows of tea tables set up in the middle. The moment Zuo Xingzhou laid eyes on the figures seated at the head of the gathering, his heart began pounding wildly — for there, unmistakably, sat Pu Xingui, whose image was well known to the authorities, and beside him sat a young woman with slightly dark skin but delicate, striking features — surely the legendary Chen Shuangran, said to hail from a great pirate family.

He’d originally expected to have to pass through layer after layer of scrutiny before finally earning enough trust to meet these two figures who’d been put forward as the public faces of the operation — but who could have guessed things would go so smoothly. In his mind, he quickly reassessed just what kind of standing this Huang Shengyuan held among the various rebel factions, then glanced around at the others present.

On either side sat various underworld figures of differing backgrounds. Zuo Xingzhou noticed that the first seat on the lower side beneath Pu Xingui belonged to none other than the “hero” Cao Jinlong, famous for killing “yellow dogs,” and beside him, Zuo Xingzhou recognized two more men who had built their reputation following Cao Jinlong — Fujian-based martial heroes. On the other side, the first, second, and third seats on the lower side sat empty, and beyond them sat three more figures — two men and one woman — all armed, though for the moment there wasn’t much to distinguish about them.

Once the steward had brought Zhan Yunhai and Zuo Xingzhou in, Chen Shuangran, seated at the front, clapped her hands. “Let it be known to all the heroes present — these two young heroes have been brought here as helpers by a most trusted paternal uncle of this humble woman’s — ‘Tiger Shark’ Zhan Yunhai, and the other, ‘Mixed Primordial Axe,’ Zhou Xing…”

Chen Shuangran’s voice carried an oddly measured cadence to it. Having introduced the two of them, they cupped their hands in the customary underworld greeting to everyone present, after which Chen Shuangran spread her hands and began introducing them to the others in the courtyard in turn.

“…As for Young Master Pu’s side here, I doubt this first one needs much introduction — ‘Hero of the Four Seas,’ Cao Jinlong. I wonder if you two have crossed paths with him before… Below Hero Cao is ‘Sword of Wenhou,’ Qian Dingzhong, whose swordsmanship is renowned across the southern reaches…”

Chen Shuangran went on introducing everyone this way. Zuo Xingzhou committed each name to memory, offering the customary “long admired your name” greeting to each in turn. Just as Pu Xingui’s side of the introductions was nearly finished, Chen Shuangran’s gaze suddenly fixed on something.

Everyone else’s expression suddenly shifted as well.

Standing at the center of the courtyard, Zuo Xingzhou and Zhan Yunhai both felt the hair on the backs of their necks stand on end.

At that moment, a figure had appeared behind them, silent and without a trace.

Both of them instinctively nearly drew their blade and axe to strike back.

But instead, they saw the crowd before them all breaking into smiles — complex smiles, carrying both a hint of reverence and something almost sycophantic. Chen Shuangran smiled and said, “Master, you’re back.”

“Mm…”

What emerged from behind them was a long, drawn-out nasal hum. Zuo Xingzhou turned around to find a tall, gaunt, bald monk, his eyes deeply sunken, his gaze carrying a profound, penetrating quality, while the skin on his face and scalp appeared smooth and fine. At first glance he looked like an elderly monk, but on closer inspection, it became difficult to pin down his age at all — a telltale sign of internal cultivation refined to an extraordinarily high level.

Since leaving the southwest, Zuo Xingzhou had rarely encountered a true grandmaster of this caliber. Even Tie Tianying, currently guarding the palace, burdened as he was with worldly affairs, might well fall somewhat short in comparison to this man.

The monk held a steaming hot cloth in his hand, standing no more than half a step from the two of them, wiping his hands while speaking in a low, muffled voice.

“This humble one took some time in the privy. I hope it hasn’t disrupted everyone’s pleasant discussions — though frankly, this humble one couldn’t care less either way.”

“Of course not — Master, your Buddhist attainment is so profound, your ease and naturalness truly admirable.” Chen Shuangran smiled, then introduced Zhan and Zuo to the monk before turning to introduce him to the pair.

“…Let it be known to you two — the man before you is a figure who now stands as the very pinnacle of the martial world under heaven, one who once debated martial theory with ‘Iron Arm’ Zhou Tong in years past, an unrivaled master on par with the Manichean sect leader Lin Zongwu himself, the abbot of Yange Temple in the north — the divine monk—”

“—Master Tunyun!”

…

Tunyun…

…

The moment Chen Shuangran finished speaking, the information had already locked itself firmly into place in Zuo Xingzhou’s mind.

Just as he was about to cup his hands in greeting…

…

The monk Tunyun raised his eyes, lifted his right palm forward, and brought it slashing down—

…

Confusion flashed across Zhan Yunhai’s eyes as he tried to retreat backward—

…

A raging storm surged through Zuo Xingzhou’s mind. In this instant, certain training from his time in the southwest kicked in. Without even knowing what was happening, he almost instinctively drew the axe from his back and swung it forward with all his strength—

…

There was a resounding crash as the axe met metal and flesh, and a wave of internal force rebounded like an ocean tide, sending the axe flying off. Zhan Yunhai let out an “ah!” of pain as the man seized him by the chest and yanked him forward—

…

Zuo Xingzhou lunged forward with everything he had. The next instant, tearing, punching, elbow strikes, retreating sweeps — the two sides clashed in a frenzy in an instant, everything reduced to a wild, animal reflex somewhere between life and death. At one point, a crack sounded against Zuo Xingzhou’s head, his vision swimming, his body sent flying — and even still airborne, he mustered every last bit of strength, instinctively hurling his other axe with all his might straight toward Chen Shuangran—

…

Another crash sounded. Across the way, the monk Tunyun’s robe sleeve flew upward like the wingspan of some enormous bird, sweeping the axe skyward.

…

Zuo Xingzhou rolled several times across the ground before struggling to his feet. By now, all the martial artists in the courtyard had risen, surrounding them from every direction. He turned his head — Zhan Yunhai, more than ten feet away, was spitting up blood, cursing furiously, his eyes filled with bewilderment. Zuo Xingzhou’s own head was still ringing with a dull buzz when he heard a voice speak from up front.

…

“…Didn’t we agree to disarm them first? Why didn’t you do it, Miss?”

…

“Heh heh… this humble woman simply wanted to witness the divine monk’s prowess for herself…”

…

“Why— we brothers came here to risk our lives for you, why would you harm us—”

…

In the courtyard, the crowd wore half-smiles, and for a moment, silence fell. Chen Shuangran tilted her chin slightly, turning her gaze this way.

…

“I hear Brother Zhan has been secretly involved with the Huang family’s eldest daughter, Sister Xiaoxiang… Having seen you today, ‘Tiger Shark,’ your reputation is well-deserved — truly a heroic figure, quite moving…”

…

“So what if it’s true—”

…

“Well, it just means Sister Xiaoxiang, a young lady of a proper household, loses her heart the moment she sees a handsome man — quite the improper little tramp, isn’t she?”

…

“…Huh?” Zhan Yunhai looked confused.

…

“Everyone says ‘Tiger Shark’ Zhan Yunhai has such a fierce temperament that if he can’t have what he wants, he’ll kill an entire family for it. Uncle Huang was so worried about this that he had no choice but to ask us to come and kill you on his behalf. Sigh, what a hero, dying so young… I suppose… it’s all that tramp Sister Xiaoxiang’s fault, really.”

…

Zhan Yunhai blinked, momentarily stunned, then understood the whole truth of the matter. Beside him, Zuo Xingzhou sighed inwardly. At the same time, Chen Shuangran’s voice continued on.

…

“But then again, as the saying goes, good is rewarded and evil is punished — Sister Xiaoxiang, a woman whose beauty brings ruin, was in the wrong after all, and so, as it happens, a few days ago she happened to overhear Uncle Huang’s plot to kill you, and risked everything trying to get word to you — only to accidentally end up actually dead herself. How fitting, really — the very retribution of cause and effect. She caused your death today, but heaven claimed her life just days ago as punishment. Master, would you not call this what they call karmic retribution?”

…

Zhan Yunhai’s expression froze in place. Even Zuo Xingzhou, in that instant, found himself momentarily stunned. Before them, the monk Tunyun raised a hand slightly, seemingly at a loss for how to respond himself. Chen Shuangran’s voice drifted on, soft and distant.

…

“And that’s exactly why, as far as Uncle Huang is concerned, you now absolutely must die… hee hee hee, I do so love the look on your face right now…”

…

“AAAAAAAAAAAAH—”

Zhan Yunhai let out a furious roar and charged forward—

Zuo Xingzhou charged forward at the same instant.

Before them, the monk Tunyun’s iron palm came crashing down, and the surrounding crowd closed in from all sides.

Not long after that evening, Zhan Yunhai lay in a thick pool of blood, his spine shattered, his belly torn open — while the woman who had privately pledged herself to him in marriage was already waiting for him on the road to the underworld…

…

Leaves rustled softly, the courtyard settled into order. Outside the walls of Fuzhou, the occasional ripple of disturbance soon faded back into stillness.

Carriages passed from outside the city back within its walls; farmers came and went about their business. Far from the disputes of clans and court, the people within Fuzhou carried on with their own lives, the city still wearing the appearance of a peaceful, prosperous age.

Actions taken in the shadows always come at a price.

Only a few days later, as the fifth month drew toward its close, Ning Ji and Qu Longjun were tending their stall in Silver Bridge Ward, when the thought occasionally crossed their minds.

“That dog… hasn’t come around to bother me in quite a few days now…”

The crowded night market was lively but also wearisome, the smell of fish occasionally drifting over from not far away.

The typhoon had not yet arrived.