The sky had not yet lightened, and the early morning in Fuzhou carried hardly any wind at all.

Pu Xingui sat by the window on the second floor, listening to the distant sounds of roosters and dogs, quietly eating pastries in the dim light as he mulled over what was to come.

The city’s curfew had already lifted, and rustling sounds came from the back courtyard; before long, “Wen-Marquis Sword” Qian Dingzhong came and knocked on the door.

“I hear Young Master Pu hasn’t slept all night.”

“With great matters at hand, one needs to think things through carefully. Has someone else arrived?”

“The Lü brothers were being pursued for two days, but thankfully we managed to save them. I’ve had them settled to rest for now; they’ll come pay respects at noon.”

“Mm, that’s fine. My place here is a mess, not fit to be seen.”

In the dim room, only the tea stove burned quietly with a faint glow. The table was covered in scraps of wrapping paper from various pastries and crumbs of food, and tea stains were spilled across the floor — evidence that Pu Xingui had spent the whole night thinking, consuming a great deal of food in the process. Seen through Qian Dingzhong’s eyes, this was actually reassuring.

“Before every great event, one needs a calm mind. The moment I heard Young Master Pu hadn’t slept all night, and just kept sending for pastries again and again, I knew the great matter was in no danger.”

Since Junwu and his sister arrived in Fujian, no small number of powerful families had been wiped out. That Pu Xingui had survived the various rounds of suppression, and had even risen to become something of a leader, was of course not due to his family’s remaining influence alone. He thought deeply, and had twice, at critical moments, made decisive calls that saved many people around him — that was the true foundation of his authority. It was only this time, arriving in Fuzhou, that not knowing what backing Chen Shuangran had behind her had put him at a disadvantage everywhere, leaving him looking rather cornered.

Now, relying on a surprise move to break the deadlock, forcing the other side into negotiations, he had once again managed to project an air of one in command.

“It’s just that this dark-skinned Chen woman, though she appears to be yielding, is probably still unwilling deep down. Today’s negotiation may not be as simple as it seems. Has Young Master Pu really thought this through?”

“I’ve spent the whole night thinking it over carefully.” Pu Xingui slowly walked to the window and smiled. “In life, it’s all a matter of what to take and what to give up — take what should be taken, give up what should be given up, that’s all there is to it.”

“It won’t be easy to explain to that Young Hero Sun, either.” Qian Dingzhong reminded him.

Pu Xingui nodded.

“That’s exactly the matter I mean.”

…

Crack crack, bang bang bang, splash splash…

Behind the Princess Imperial’s residence, in the courtyard with the great banyan tree, Ning Ji had lit a fire and set up an iron pot, beginning to “refine elixirs.” Before long, Qu Longjun came to help, followed by the Yue siblings, Yinping and Yun. After a while, a little girl, Zhou Fuyang, still rubbing her eyes from just waking up, wobbled over as well, joining in the baffling process of handling coal ash. Qu Longjun took charge of watching over her, keeping her from touching the lime powder nearby.

“So this is how the Huaxia Army makes lime powder bombs…”

“This is… truly sinister…”

“—This is called ‘no deceit too great in war’!”

Five figures grunted and toiled away at the work. Ning Ji occasionally passed on bits of classroom knowledge from the southwest.

“…Master… Master Ning often taught us, saying, ah, in this world, when a person encounters a tiger, what should they do…”

“Encountering a tiger… how philosophical…”

“After much deep thought, we arrived at a conclusion everyone agreed on…”

“…Hm?”

“And that is… kneel down and call it ‘father.'”

“…”

“Because even the fiercest tiger won’t eat its own cub, so kneeling down and calling it ‘father’ is exactly right.”

“Damn it…”

“See, I teach you life philosophy, and you curse at me… you have no upbringing.”

Five figures grunted and toiled at the work. After a while, they started bickering with each other. Not until a handful of coal ash was flung into the air did Qu Longjun cry out, “Wait a moment!” She scooped up the giggling Zhou Fuyang and fled the scene, while the other three finally began kicking and punching each other around the fire.

Not far off, in a small building between the courtyards, Zhao Xiaosong, seeing the fight nearly spilling over toward the little princess, wanted to call out, but seeing that the Princess Imperial beside her, also watching secretly, made no move, held back her impulse. After a moment, she turned to look at Zhou Pei, and saw that she too, watching the scene in the courtyard, had her brows knit, and after a moment sighed.

“Why… can none of them ever behave with any dignity?”

“Dignity?” Zhao Xiaosong frowned. “…Who?”

The sky gradually brightened.

At a temple retreat near the mountainside, Chen Shuangran was having breakfast, discussing certain matters with Monk Tunyun in his grey monk’s robes. Tunyun, brow furrowed, glanced to one side, then turned back with a faint, ambiguous smile.

“…Does the venerable Master perhaps not believe me?”

“This old monk has seen countless women in his life. Your looks aren’t bad — do you know why I’ve never made a move against you? “

“That would show the Master… understands the bigger picture.”

“This old monk has roamed the world for decades and has never once cared for the ‘bigger picture.’ Miss Chen, you are a woman who lies, who harms others. You seem ordinary on the surface, but your heart went rotten long ago. In this world, some people — like that patron Cao, for instance — might be taken in by you. But in this old monk’s eyes, whatever it is about you that attracts people, it’s less than what a dog has. Miss Chen, don’t take offense at my speaking plainly here — no one here can beat me.”

Chen Shuangran, indeed, showed no offense, though the smile on her face twitched a few times.

“…Since the Master sees through the affairs of this world so clearly, why not tell me — what made this humble girl turn out this way.”

“Women are all the same — find some petty excuse, and you can righteously justify harming everyone. But this old monk doesn’t care. Speak out of turn in front of me, and you’ll die a most miserable death.”

“It seems the Master really is quite fond of that boy.”

“You people may not understand — for a martial artist, the fists do the talking. That boy’s devotion to the martial path is fierce and sincere, at least more trustworthy than you are, Miss Chen. You’re vying with that Pu Xingui, with Cao Jinlong as your inside man — you’re bound to win. But you want to win everything, and that’s wishful thinking indeed.”

“…Since the Master already knows about my relationship with Cao Jinlong, then of course you know I have the means to compare notes between the two sides. The bombardment at Huaiyun Ward — it wasn’t leaked by me, and it wasn’t arranged by Pu Xingui either. Isn’t that suspicious enough?”

“How would I know you’re not lying to me again?”

Chen Shuangran spread her hands, at a loss for words, and after a long while, laughed and sighed.

“Then will the Master… go verify it?”

“I will verify it myself.”

“…If this time it proves that this humble girl wasn’t lying, will I have earned some trust with the Master?”

“If it does turn out that way, when I come back in a fury, I’ll be sure to treat you tenderly.”

“…”

Chen Shuangran laughed softly for a while, then finally spread her hands.

“Then this humble girl will simply… await the Master’s instruction…”

After a moment, she added one more thing.

“Only… if the Master wishes to dig up more, in this humble girl’s opinion, it might be worth… probing further around the Princess Imperial’s residence — there may be clues there.”

“This old monk has his own plans.”

Tunyun’s figure departed. Chen Shuangran, having eaten only half her breakfast, found she couldn’t finish it; her expression darkened sinisterly.

After a while, she summoned Fan Zhong.

“As expected… Master Tunyun doesn’t trust me. Without solid proof, he probably won’t make a move against that Sun fellow. And… he probably won’t let us kill him either.”

“As expected.” Fan Zhong smiled. “Capture him without killing him, that’s all we need. And… if there’s any mishap, I’ll explain it to the Master myself — our skill is roughly matched, he’ll give me some face.”

“Then, I’ll rely on you, Lord Fan.” She then smiled. “Also… about today’s operation…”

…

In the morning, the sun blazed fiercely, without a breath of wind.

The chaotic fish market reeked of stench; the shirtless fishermen huddled in the shade of the eaves to escape the heat. “Fish King” Gao Xingzong had already sent his disciples out; once the signal came back, he stepped out of his room and saw a group of underworld figures led by Pu Xingui approaching from not far off.

His disciples guided them, and before long, the two groups met.

Besides Pu Xingui’s companion, “Wen-Marquis Sword” Qian Dingzhong, several notorious local underworld figures from Fujian accompanied them this time as well — men who, over the past few days, had been carrying out sabotage under Chen Shuangran’s orders, and after being exposed and hunted down, had finally been rescued by the young hero Sun Wukong and Pu Xingui’s men. By now, these men had clearly thrown in with Pu Xingui’s camp.

After expressing their long admiration to the Fish King, Gao Xingzong led the group in to meet the young hero Sun Wukong, who had just arrived. To cause trouble for Chen Shuangran, ambushing her men within the city, the martial-arts prodigy Young Hero Sun was the main force. After the two sides exchanged pleasantries, Pu Xingui once again gave Young Hero Sun a few leads about possible trouble that might occur today. Naturally, he made no mention of wanting the other man to hold off for now, nor did he reveal that he himself was meeting Chen Shuangran that afternoon.

…

The academy, Tongli Hall.

Outside, the sound of reading mingled with the shrill drone of cicadas; inside, the windows had been opened, yet the room still felt stifling. Amid the pervasive smell of medicine, Li Pin leaned against the head of the bed reading, fanning himself with one hand. On the other side of the bed lay his sleeping wife, her face carrying an expression of suffering even with her eyes closed.

In the years since the fall of their homeland, Li Pin had fled from Taiyuan to Bianliang, from Bianliang to Lin’an, and from Lin’an to Fuzhou. His wife had accompanied him on the latter two legs of the journey, but not long after arriving in Fuzhou, she had already been confined to bed, unable to rise. In an ordinary household, she likely would have died long ago; it was only thanks to the fine medicine the court had provided that her life had been extended these few extra years — not that this could really be called fortunate.

Their daughter, Li Luoshi, lame in one leg from the flight south, played in the shade of the eaves outside. She was fairly good-looking, but had grown withdrawn and reclusive since her injury, afraid of meeting people. Li Pin had sought out physicians for her, but there was nothing to be done, and over time, he had come to accept it as ordinary. With the country fallen and everything in ruins, nine out of ten things around him were misfortunes, and over time, even that had come to feel normal.

Luo Shouwei sat under the eaves too, watching Li Luoshi play.

After a while, his wife woke from her sleep, remained groggy for a while, and, feeling the breeze of the fan, gradually came to focus on Li Pin. “…Not busy… today?”

“There’s something in a little while.”

“Have things been… going smoothly lately?”

“Mm, all going smoothly.”

His wife had been a young lady from an official household, married back in Jiangning. In her younger years, she had been quite lovely, and had read a fair amount, so she and Li Pin could sit and talk together. Now, after so long in illness, her face was swollen, her body often carried a strange smell, and worst of all, her mind could no longer really process much. On the rare occasions she was lucid, all she could ask was whether things were going smoothly, and Li Pin always told her they were.

He wanted to say other things too, but none of them seemed right.

After fanning her for a while, Li Pin got up and brought her some plain water to drink. After a moment, Luo Shouwei brought Li Luoshi in to see her mother. Li Pin stepped aside, and Luo Shouwei handed him a note. “An hour ago, Zhang Yunya died.”

Zhang Yunya was a senior official of the Loyalist faction, his reputation on par with great Confucian scholars like Li Guang and Hu Shuan. When news came that Lin’an had fallen, the emperor had asked Li Guang and the others to make a public statement, and simultaneously screen the city for disloyal elements — and so they too had become targets for Chen Shuangran and her people. Last night, apparently, Monk Tunyun and Fan Zhong had struck together, severely wounding him within his own residence; by now, he had finally succumbed.

Li Pin read the note, crumpled it, and threw it in the wastebasket. “What is the Ministry of Justice doing! What is Cheng Zhouhai doing! No system in place at all, just letting them come and go as they please?!”

“There’s no defense against a thief determined enough, over a long enough time. Fan Zhong and Tunyun are both established grandmasters of the martial world — with the two of them working together, even the Ministry of Justice and the secret investigators can do little.”

“Ning Yi would have had a way to deal with this back in his day.”

“…” Luo Shouwei fell silent, saying nothing, then said, “Word from the lookouts says Hu Shuan is nearly here.”

“Mm.”

Li Pin nodded, went to the door, and straightened his robes.

Fuzhou’s situation had grown ever more intense by the day, like water at a rolling boil. The emperor had pushed the Loyalist faction to the front to take the blame, screening the city for traitors. Li Guang and the others, considering the bigger picture, had agreed, but on matters of who to strike, who to arrest, Li Guang and Hu Shuan were, of course, extremely cautious. Hu Shuan’s visit today was to have a further discussion with Li Pin — who, though technically part of the power-holding faction, was relatively even-tempered and had a reputation for fairness.

…

Over the past several days, the officials who had died in the city, large and small, were of course not limited to Zhang Yunya alone. But when the list of deaths for that day reached the desk in the imperial study, Junwu found he could no longer sit still, and summoned Cheng Zhouhai to ask him about it.

“Tunyun and Fan Zhong are both established veterans of the underworld, long famous in their own right. In the past, out of pride in their own status, aside from working together once against Constable Tie, they have generally each gone their own way. That they struck together last night to assassinate Zhang Yunya must mean that, after Your Majesty persuaded Li Guang, Hu Shuan, and even Tong Chaomei to act, the people behind them have grown restless too.”

“Does that mean they’ll join forces again going forward?”

“Quite likely.”

“Isn’t there anything to be done? Not even a single countermeasure?”

“There are some measures… already underway.”

“When will they take effect?”

“That… is hard to say…”

“…” Junwu took a deep breath. “Ning Yi… how did he handle things like this, back then?”

“According to Ning Yi’s own contingency plan, if Sikong Nan had ever decided to storm the capital regardless of the consequences to assassinate someone, even he would have had no reliable way to guarantee safety. And Tunyun’s approach is quite similar to Sikong Nan’s.”

“Then, apart from Sikong Nan, what about other situations?”

“Most of the time, Ning Yi made himself the bait.”

“I can be bait too.”

“Your Majesty cannot.”

In the imperial study, Junwu stared at him wide-eyed; Cheng Zhouhai clasped his hands, bowed his head, and remained silent.

After a moment, Cheng Zhouhai turned to leave. Just as he was about to exit the hall, Zhou Junwu raised a hand and called out, “Perhaps my little junior brother can solve the problem!”

Cheng Zhouhai cupped his hands, accepting the scolding without comment, and left.

…

In a somewhat bustling marketplace, two figures met on the upper floor of a teahouse.

“Circled around, same as last time — two lookout towers, two men assigned to each, one keeping watch, one holding a firearm.”

“That’s Lord Fan’s arrangement.”

“I’ll take care of the towers, no noise, I’m confident. When I start on the second one, the Master goes in — how does that sound?”

“If something goes wrong with you…” Tunyun’s gaze turned toward Fan Zhong, “…I’m not afraid either.”

“Firearms look fierce, but really they’re not so different from arrows. Beyond ten paces, they lose their accuracy; within ten paces, I’m faster.” Fan Zhong smiled too. “The Master need not worry.”

They turned their gaze toward the gate of Tongli Hall, watching Hu Shuan’s carriage roll slowly inside, several sturdy guards following.

The two of them rose from the teahouse.

“If things don’t go smoothly, don’t force it.” Fan Zhong said, as they descended the stairs, then added, “Also, Chen Shuangran’s suspicions about that Sun Wukong fellow aren’t groundless — I find it quite suspicious too.”

“—Hmph.”

Tunyun didn’t think much of him either.