“Master’s first child, I remember, was named… Ning Xi… the ‘xi’ of morning light…”
The uproar had gradually settled. The night wind drifted in through the open window, quieting the summer night. The figures in the room had all sat down — whether emperor or minister, certain memories of the past made the present feel quiet and distant by comparison.
“Ning Ji is the second. Born on the seventh day after his birth, the Jurchens marched south. Ning Yi had already left Bianliang by then, stripping the countryside bare ahead of the enemy — it was a long while before the child was even given a name…” Cheng Zhouhai sat half-perched on his stool below. “…The meaning is: to slay one’s sovereign, to rise in rebellion — the whole world holds it against him.”
“That’s… a fitting connection with my own Zhou family, isn’t it…” the Emperor said, as though a bit dazed, musing idly.
“Master, why would he… send the child here of all places…” For many years now, Zhou Pei had been unwilling to say the word “Master” in front of anyone but Jun Wu, yet in the quiet of this night breeze, she let it slip out unthinking.
“Wenxuan probably knows more about this than I do.”
“From what we’ve gathered dealing with Ning Ji directly… he wasn’t actually sent here by Master Ning at all… Among Ning family’s children, Ning Ji has been a monkey since he was little, restless by nature — even Master Ning often couldn’t keep him in line, which is exactly why, during the great war in the southwest, they let him join Uncle Zheng Seven’s special operations squad…”
“Zheng Qiming?”
“Just as Your Majesty says.”
“Go on, go on. Tell me about the old days out in the southwest.”
“…When they first came to Xiaocang River, Ning Ji was still small. As he got older, he got along well with Zuo Xingzhou and the others… After moving to the southwest, the whole crowd of children ran around causing trouble — in summer, they liked to line up battle formations by the river in Zhang Village, fighting over the best swimming spots, and Ning Ji was always right there in the thick of it, brawling back and forth. Ning Xi, meanwhile, joined in far less often… Later, when the Jurchens marched south, Ning Ji made such a fuss about going to the front lines as a battlefield medic that Master Ning, worn down by the pestering, finally gave in… Even as a medic he couldn’t sit still — by twelve or thirteen he’d already killed a good number of assassins, and later, when the fighting intensified, he wormed his way into Uncle Zheng Seven’s special operations squad. This kid was ruthless killing Jurchens — he genuinely earned real merit out there…”
“Remarkable, truly.” The Emperor sighed with admiration, recalling the image of the youth sitting dejected in the courtyard earlier, finding it rather endearing in hindsight — his first instinct that the boy resembled Lady Xiao Chan had, apparently, been correct. Of course, regarding the fact that this same youth had just beaten up more than a dozen guards, he currently found himself somewhat selectively forgetful. What real malice could a teenage boy possibly have, after all.
“…Why did he snatch Zhou Fuyang’s lollipop?” Zhou Pei asked.
“Well, youthful high spirits — it shows genuine, unspoiled boyishness.” Jun Wu said. “I was like that too, when I was young.”
“…” Zhou Pei shot him a glance.
The other two said nothing further. After a brief silence, Cheng Zhouhai finally spoke. “It might have something to do with Zuo Xingzhou.”
“…What happened to Zuo Xingzhou?”
“Zuo Xingzhou went undercover regarding this whole Chen Shuangran business, and there’s been no word from him for several days now… Before he vanished, he’d met up with Ning Ji, which is why Ning Ji has been looking for him too.”
“Start from the beginning.”
“Yes… On Wenxuan’s end, our first contact with Ning Ji was about half a month ago, when he and his companion came into the city and set up a stall in Yinqiao Ward…”
The oil lamp inside its glass housing gave off a faint sound, small insects fluttering nearby, and in the light of the night, Cheng Zhouhai slowly laid out the sequence of events — though this time, he was interrupted rather frequently.
“He’s been here this long — why is this the first We’re hearing of it…”
“What’s the story with his companion…”
“Reckless, absolutely reckless! How could a child be allowed to get involved in something this dangerous…”
“Master’s own child, here in the southeast — do you understand how enormous a matter this is! He cannot come to any harm, Master Cheng, don’t you see that? And Zuo Wenxuan too—”
Cheng Zhouhai did his best to answer Jun Wu and Zhou Pei’s questions as thoroughly as he could, but after a while the mood in the room only grew more serious still, moving into the realm of practical concerns. Jun Wu frowned, while Zhou Pei recalled the time she’d gone to Yinqiao Ward herself and seen that very stall, piecing the whole affair together — then, brow furrowed, she slammed a hand down on the tea table and stood, pacing anxiously back and forth across the room.
Zuo Wenxuan, his face full of remorse, had already knelt down.
Cheng Zhouhai remained standing off to the side.
“This matter could be handled either lightly or seriously, but honestly there’s no truly safe way to go about it… Your Majesty, Your Highness, to put it plainly — we may not actually be able to keep this child under control…”
“Even Yin Ping and Yue Yun together can’t restrain him?” Zhou Pei asked, brow furrowed.
“This child grew up surrounded by grandmasters, and he’s genuinely been on a battlefield… once he’s made up his mind about something, there aren’t many who can hold him back.”
“He must have inherited Master’s own martial legacy, then.” Jun Wu thought it over. “…No wonder, then.”
“…Looking at the Ning family’s children, that does seem to be the case… but fortunately, there is now a way to more or less keep him in check…” Cheng Zhouhai went on to explain in detail.
“Oh? A girl, is it? Someone he’s fond of?” Zhou Pei said. “…What’s her character like?”
“Ah?” Cheng Zhouhai thought it over. “…She seems to be a good sort, from what we can tell.”
“Character matters a great deal.” Jun Wu considered this too, then added, “We should have some contact with her in the near future, get a proper look at her. Marrying well means seeking out virtue — this is no small matter.”
Zhou Pei nodded in agreement.
The room fell quiet for a moment, then Jun Wu, seated in his chair, looked up again. “Actually… he snatched Fuyang’s lollipop — do you two think, between him and Zhou Fuyang…” He trailed off partway through, rubbing his chin with a finger, then waved it off. “Never mind, let’s not get into that for now… heh heh…”
Zhou Pei glanced at him, then clasped her hands behind her back and looked off toward the distance, evidently thinking her brother’s sudden train of thought was rather unreliable. There was another long stretch of silence. Ning Ji’s arrival had, in this one night, brought the two of them a great deal that felt distinctly unreal, alongside plenty that felt all too real — none of it easily summed up in so short a span of time. Whenever a thought came to either of them, they’d voice it aloud.
“Where did they run off to…”
“Have the guards at the back really been properly arranged?”
“Might as well just have him caught and locked up — don’t let him leave even if he throws a fit… the situation outside is dangerous as it is…”
“We won’t get to see him again today, it seems…”
“Let Fuyang stay at the Princess’s residence — I need to head back to the palace… I’ll have to find time later…”
“Sister, don’t push too hard — with a child his age, force doesn’t work. You have to guide him patiently. We’re the elders here…”
“For the sake of his own safety, surely he’d listen to reason—”
“Could you even beat him in a fight? Haven’t you heard — that kid is fierce as anything…”
“Well, I’ve got Yin Ping and Yue Yun to help me, I’ve got the numbers…”
“Let me tell you, just send Fuyang instead… sister, listen to me on this…”
By this point in the conversation, there wasn’t much practical substance left to discuss, so they sent Cheng Zhouhai and Zuo Wenxuan off and continued chatting a while longer. Both of them had important business to attend to the next day, but for the moment it seemed to matter less. Jun Wu, genuinely exhausted, had no intention of meeting Ning Ji directly today, and though he propped his head in his hand, reluctant to head back just yet, he went on leisurely exchanging notes with his sister on how to handle children.
“You’re the Emperor now — you need to carry yourself with authority…”
“Authority alone is just an empty shell — you need proper method in how you handle things… Sister, the first time I laid eyes on that child today, I thought he was a lot like me.”
“How on earth is he like you…”
“That natural, unspoiled sincerity…”
“He challenged you to a fight and you didn’t go down.”
“That was aimed at Yue Yun, to be fair — Yue Yun’s got a sharp tongue, calling him a lecher and all that; I wouldn’t have taken it either, in his shoes. And they’re around the same age, sparring a bit is only natural.”
“Ugh… what are we supposed to do if this Four-Foot Lecher, Five-Foot Lecher reputation of his actually sticks…”
“They’re just a bunch of ignorant fools — why bother with them…”
“Should we have the Secret Investigation Bureau help with it…”
“Help spread counter-rumors? That’ll only make the rumors spread further…”
“Kill every jianghu person bold enough to talk about it… there’s always a way…”
“Sister, you’re missing the point entirely…”
“What’s the point, then…”
“The point is… I’ve been thinking… sister, what do you make of Zhou Fuyang…”
“What on earth are you thinking…”
“They were having such a good time together — Zhou Fuyang, silly little thing, kept laughing nonstop whenever he talked. Sister, I’m the Emperor — back in the old days, this sort of thing was called a marriage alliance… No, really, this is a serious matter.”
“I don’t approve…”
“This child came thousands of miles, all the way out here, and got called a lecher on top of it — he must have suffered plenty of grievance already…”
The chatter went on, trivial and rambling, the lamp’s shadows flickering, when suddenly a boom sounded from behind the Princess’s residence, and a warning firework burst into the sky. The two siblings threw open the window. “…More trouble?” They’d assumed at first that Ning Ji had lost his temper again, but a moment later, someone came to report — it was the monk Tunyun, who had broken in.
After wounding someone, he’d been driven back out again.
They relaxed slightly.
Not long after, Zuo Wenxuan came to report: Ning Ji had also chased after him, out into the city.
With a bang, Zhou Junwu slammed the table and shot to his feet.
“Bring me my armor and my sword. Summon the Imperial Guard.” He waved a hand even as he strode toward the door and down the stairs. “I’m going to surround that monk myself—”
…
Gongs rang out in urgent bursts, guards assigned to sound the alarm sprinted through the streets, and half the Princess’s residence had sprung into motion.
Tunyun’s ash-gray figure drifted across the city’s rooftops and treetops, like a waterbird gliding over a sea of shadow, appearing here and there before vanishing again into the gloom. Behind him, the skilled fighters kept by the Princess’s residence leapt and soared in pursuit, the chase an astonishing sight to behold.
Ning Ji, too, ran through the dim, narrow alleys, pressing forward with all his strength while slapping the prepared blood packets against his body as he went.
Zuo Xingzhou was dead.
And Tunyun had come.
Scaling the wall of a nearby market district ahead, he could make out the other’s shape flickering intermittently atop a courtyard off to the side. A guard from the Princess’s residence, having caught up suddenly, was sent tumbling down by his own hand.
Ning Ji ran at full speed, calculating positions, the two figures weaving and extending beneath the night sky, until at a certain moment, Tunyun leapt up onto a tall building and spotted, in the distance behind a memorial archway along one of the streets, the young man’s shape emerging briefly from concealment.
That was likely the spot he’d retreated to earlier while being chased, hiding out there — there was no lantern above the archway, and a dim blind spot to one side, and only now, as the commotion spread over, had he poked his head out to gauge how things were unfolding.
Their gazes crossed for an instant in the dark.
Tunyun casually flicked a hand, knocking aside an arrow that shot out of the darkness, baring his teeth in a grim smile.
He swooped toward that direction like a hawk.
The young man’s figure dropped down along the archway’s pillars like a monkey, his body crouching low before he darted into the shadows of the alley beside it, vanishing from sight.
The night wind surged in, and across the city, far and near, warning whistles rang out. Sentries stationed on high ground waved signal flags through the darkness as the elite forces sent out from the Princess’s residence spread out in a pincer movement. Tunyun and the young man’s shapes flickered in and out along different paths through the dark, gusting wind, chasing and crossing again and again.
At the mouth of an alley, Tunyun descended silently in the darkness. Ahead lay a road running alongside a small river, with vendors and pedestrians about, but the alley itself was quiet, giving off a strange, fishy stench.
Tunyun gave his sleeves a shake, producing a sharp, metallic ring, and spoke: “Truly, a hero rises young — you haven’t died after all. This humble one is genuinely gratified!”
In the distance, the sound of pursuit was spreading closer. He paused. “I know who you are…”
In the darkness, a figure closed some unknowable distance in an instant and swung a fist at him.
With a bang, the first blow’s force was deflected — Tunyun’s robe billowed, and his whole body seemed to blur into an afterimage, flickering backward through the narrow alley. Ahead of him, the alley walls exploded in a rapid series of bangs — several of the punches had actually caught up with him, and in the darkness, sparks of clashing metal rang out with a clanging sound, several pebbles sent flying by his sleeves into the trees of a nearby courtyard.
“White Ape Arm Technique?”
The young man’s punches lashed out like a whip, a violent storm smashing through everything in his path, backed by an internal force that seemed to shatter whatever it touched — this was the style Tunyun’s mind leapt to first. He’d meant to strike a grandmaster’s pose and offer some commentary, but the young man, in the midst of his charge, employed some kind of footwork Tunyun couldn’t place, and suddenly a gust of fist-wind was bearing down on his face.
Alarmed, Tunyun swung both hands with full force in an instant, his internal energy driving his iron sleeves open like several iron fans spread wide through the dark alley. All at once, the clutter in the alley exploded outward, the walls themselves cracking apart, and as the young man surged forward to clash head-on with his internal power, the two of them tumbled dozens of feet apart in the blink of an eye.
The wide sleeves of the monk’s robe slowly drew back in the darkness.
“Well done, Sun Wukong. I know you bear us ill will. But your true enemy… is about to arrive.”
Tunyun’s words paused in the alley, and the next instant, someone dropped down from the sky behind him, off to one side.
“Die—”
Yue Yun swung his octagonal chain-hammer, smashing it ferociously into the alley — the blue bricks of the alley shattered, filthy water splashing everywhere. The hammer, having struck the ground, was hauled back up again, and with Yue Yun’s fervent battle cry, it began whipping wildly through the narrow alley like a giant python. Tunyun’s wide sleeve slammed the chain-hammer aside with a clang, surging forward toward Yue Yun.
“That business between you and me on Jiuxian Mountain was nothing more than a misunderstanding, a spat—”
Tunyun’s voice rang out mid-fight, his body and fists moving like lightning, like a specter. A few exchanges closed the distance between them, and he sent Yue Yun flying with a blow. Turning back and seeing the young man fleeing into the distance, he laughed heartily and darted up over the alley to give chase.
Crossing through another stretch of street, the two drew close again.
“You and this southeastern court — now there’s a real, deep-seated grudge—”
Ahead, the young man knocked down another guard from the Princess’s residence, while on the rooftop just ahead of Tunyun, a long spear whirled like a coiling dragon and thrust straight toward him — Yue Yinping, wielding her Five-Step Thirteen Spear technique. This time Tunyun didn’t dodge, meeting the spear’s tip head-on with his robe, sparks blooming in midair.
Behind them, Yue Yun came charging down a long street on horseback, chasing after them this way.
Blue bricks came whistling through the air, one aimed at Tunyun’s body, another at Yin Ping’s backside — the young man lunged in from the side. “What the hell—”
Tunyun smashed the brick aside with his sleeve while Yin Ping dodged urgently as well; both sides dropped low, and amid the clanging, clashing fight, they suddenly broke through the rooftop and fell into the room below. The young man rushed in after them, leaping high into the air as well, coming down with a devastating stomping strike, crashing through the roof beams into the room below.
Dust billowed up, and Tunyun laughed uproariously — the little room seemed to be caging three fierce beasts all at once, and suddenly a furious, clanging life-and-death struggle erupted within it. After a few breaths, three figures burst out from three different directions, and Yue Yun, who’d already run over nearby, came roaring in with his hammer swinging.
More guards and soldiers were converging on the area now. Tunyun laughed, and his dust-covered body leapt up onto a nearby rooftop; Ning Ji followed him up as well. Arrows flew in from around them, deflected by Tunyun, and the two of them, seeing the encircling soldiers, ran off in roughly the same direction — along the way, Ning Ji hurled stones at him, which Tunyun casually knocked aside, saying, “This humble one values talent today, so let me show you a thing or two—”
His figure flickered like a specter, doubling back to knock Yue Yun off the rooftop and down into the street, then forcing Yin Ping back as well, nearly sending her tumbling off the eaves too.
Monk Tunyun had drifted through the jianghu for a long time, and in his earlier years he’d been considered rather second-rate — that was because he indulged himself, took things easy, and relied on his lightness skill and iron-robe technique to only ever fight favorable battles. Somehow, he’d still managed to drift his way up to where he stood today. In truth, to have lasted this long, his talent had to be considerable, and now that he was suddenly fighting in earnest, the internal power behind his strikes was vast and refined to a razor’s edge — even the Yue siblings, for all their skill, were left thoroughly battered after just a few exchanges.
Easily deflecting the arrows flying at him, Tunyun laughed heartily, and before the group could fully close the encirclement, he darted off a good distance. Ning Ji, lurking in the darkness, lunged at him, only for the other to slip away with another marvelous evasive turn — for all his family’s deep martial heritage, Ning Ji managed only to grab hold of the man’s robe for a moment before being shaken loose again.
“Don’t keep clinging to me — let me help you get away.”
Tunyun stood on the rooftop, pressing his palms together with a smile. As Yue Yun came roaring in from behind, he stepped forward and struck out with both palms — with a boom, his vast, refined internal force sent even the strength-renowned Yue Yun flying clear off his feet.
Ning Ji leapt down from the rooftop and ran off through the dark alleys. Looking back, he saw the old monk standing firm and unshakable in the dim night, countless pursuers converging ahead of him.
Meanwhile, at the Princess Imperial’s residence, Zhou Junwu was being blocked by a crowd of fussing figures, his sister Zhou Pei among them, his armor only halfway on — especially awkward given that his sister had grabbed him by the collar.
“I’ve been on a battlefield, of course I know how to protect myself — what are you all fretting over!”
“A wealthy man’s son doesn’t sit beneath the eaves — today’s monk is nothing but a clownish troublemaker, and that child went off with a plan already in mind…”
“What plan, he’s still so young…”
“Your Majesty, the number of Jurchens who’ve died at Ning Ji’s hands must number in the dozens by now… and elite ones at that…”
Cheng Zhouhai and Zuo Wenxuan pleaded earnestly, and after clearing everyone else out, the Emperor kept his face set firm, still insisting on joining his young nephew in battle.
To no avail.