The second day of the sixth month, scattered showers.

In the morning, he went to the Inspection Committee compound to report on his work, briefing them on several cases he’d already closed and handling the transfer of a few simple matters, and naturally couldn’t resist boasting a little on behalf of his squad leader, who’d only joined two months earlier. When he asked his immediate superior about his next assignment, Deputy Minister Wang Chifeng tossed a set of orders his way.

“Meeting at General Staff headquarters this afternoon. We’ll talk when you’re back.”

“The General Staff… it’s been ages since I’ve been over there…”

After making his rounds through the offices of the various deputy ministers and ministers who had no outside engagements that day, Peng Yueyun finally returned to his own turf. His secretary had already dug up some internal reference materials and outside newspapers from two months earlier. Most of what was recorded concerned the handling of dereliction-of-duty cases related to the land reform during that period. Cross-referencing the two, the outside newspapers barely mentioned a soldier named Fang Lu at all, while the internal references documented the case faithfully and in detail — except that in every single one, Fang Lu’s case had been tucked away in the least conspicuous spot.

Not that this was surprising. Peng Yueyun pocketed one of the pages and strolled out of the Inspection Committee, heading over to Intelligence, where after wandering around a bit he found Hou Yuyong, someone he knew fairly well.

“There’s something serious I need to ask you about — see if you’ve got any leads.”

“One of my Inspection Committee comrades, coming to me to look into something?”

“It’s exactly because I’m from the Inspection Committee that going through official channels would be a disaster, wouldn’t it?”

“The higher-ups just held a meeting warning us — intelligence information can’t be used for personal favors… that’s a capital offense…”

“It’s not that kind of intelligence, just treat it as a tip between friends… You remember Xu Shaoyuan from the Secretariat, right?”

“Sure, I know him.”

“He’s got a troublemaker under him named Fang Cheng…”

“Fang Cheng…” The corner of Hou Yuyong’s mouth twitched, and he hesitated a moment. “…Damn it, did he actually go make trouble for you people? Trouble for you?”

“You know him?”

“It’s a long story…” Hou Yuyong rubbed his forehead, then after a moment said, “Actually it’s not that long. You probably already know about Fang Cheng’s situation — his brother got into trouble, and he wouldn’t accept it, filed two appeals up the chain. I heard the higher-ups patiently talked him down, but Fang Cheng himself has a background in intelligence and administrative work, so he went digging on his own, and he keeps insisting things don’t add up, cursing about a cover-up…”

“What doesn’t add up? Isn’t this matter pretty clear-cut?”

“Brother, you’re asking me what doesn’t add up…” Hou Yuyong glanced at him. “Fang Lu’s crimes are documented in great detail, but the moment this case touches on that… that Senior Brother Tang — that terrifyingly formidable Senior Brother Tang — everything becomes classified.”

Hou Yuyong lowered his voice, and by the time he got to Tang Minjie, he couldn’t help getting a little worked up with excitement. “…You and I both understand this. The time Senior Brother Tang came back, it was you who debriefed him, and I was the one liaising with Intelligence — there’s no way Fang Cheng could understand any of it. Both of his appeals actually landed on my desk, and I personally sent them back myself. But the man lost his brother, and he won’t let it go, keeps pushing and pushing. Xu Shaoyuan’s a decent squad leader too — he even pulled some personal strings and went to old Jiang over at Intelligence, and old Jiang came to me about it. So that third appeal, I sent that back myself as well. By the way, is that terrifyingly formidable Senior Brother Tang over with you now?”

“Yeah, yesterday Fang Cheng split his head open.”

“Damn, does Fang Cheng have a death wish? Does he not realize he’s dancing on the edge of the underworld? If Senior Brother Tang decides to deal with him…”

“Senior Brother doesn’t do that kind of thing.”

“Senior Brother’s merciful, amitabha.” Hou Yuyong pressed his palms together in a little bow, then said quietly, “Remember to send Senior Brother my regards — tell him he’s the most formidable person I’ve ever met…”

“Should I really tell him that?”

“Never mind, I was joking.”

The two of them traded a couple of playful punches, and as Peng Yueyun was leaving, he asked, “What do you think — is this Fang Cheng a good man or a bad one?”

“I don’t know,” Hou Yuyong said, shaking his head. “If you want to look into it, go ahead — if he’s bad, deal with him… But there’s something I want to say too, my brothers. I, little Hou, may be an outgoing sort of person, but I’m not a loudmouth — why is it that ever since I joined Intelligence, you lot always come fishing for information from me? Every time, it makes me nervous as hell, you know that? I’m always terrified you’re going to ask me something that crosses a line, and then what am I supposed to say? Last time my dad even gave me an earful, said I shouldn’t know so many people — but knowing a lot of people is just how I’ve always been, from before I ever joined Intelligence, what am I supposed to do about that…”

He rattled on and on. Peng Yueyun waved a hand. “What are you even talking about, when have I ever asked you about anything that broke the rules? I just came to shoot the breeze with you and you’ve got this much to say — you know what, I don’t think you belong in Intelligence at all, you should go into External Propaganda instead…”

“Honestly, I think I could do that. I can sing opera too.”

They traded a few more jabs, and as the door was closing, Peng Yueyun glanced back and saw Hou Yuyong’s expression settle into calm, like a still mirror. He turned and walked away. The Huaxia Army had only existed for a bit over a decade, and in that time, the people who’d grown up within it had lived through war, through death, and then through the quiet that followed victory, transforming from soldiers into government officials. In the blink of an eye, the once-green comrades of those days had each grown their own masks — masks none of them had ever seen on each other.

Carrying both the information about Fang Lu and the notice for the afternoon’s meeting, he ate at the mess hall, then climbed into a carriage and set off for General Staff headquarters. Rain began to patter down over the city. The whole way there, Peng Yueyun kept turning the matter of Fang Cheng over in his mind.

Using the Inspection Committee to investigate Fang Cheng would certainly let him dig the man up from the roots — but should he really do that? He couldn’t decide.

The carriage carried him all the way to the army’s office district, roughly eight li from Moheh Pool, and by the time he reached the meeting hall at General Staff headquarters, quite a crowd had already gathered. He even spotted Xu Shaoyuan, and the two of them exchanged greetings.

“Squad Leader Xu… finished your self-criticism?”

“Of course it’s done.” Xu Shaoyuan pulled an envelope out of his coat. “Sincere and heartfelt, flowing prose, twelve hundred words.”

“Damn…”

“What about you?”

“My wife and I wrote it together.” Peng Yueyun pulled out his own envelope. “Between the two of us, eighteen hundred words — still can’t beat you.”

“Let’s go turn them in together later, get chewed out together.”

“Sure, absolutely.”

They answered each other cheerfully, clapping each other on the shoulder and grinning, and then Peng Yueyun turned his mind to cooking up an excuse. The other man had twelve hundred words, while the two of them together only had eight hundred — handing it over side by side would be embarrassing. He figured he’d just say, once the meeting ended, that he was worried about Senior Brother’s injury and needed to go visit him in the sickroom — and he’d make the injury sound as serious as possible.

As the meeting time drew near, Peng Yueyun saw Qu Qing emerging from an office in the back. Qu Qing was an old hand in the Huaxia Army, having followed along ever since the Battle of Xiacun, and now held the rank of Major General at General Staff. In his younger days he’d had a rough, easygoing, big-uncle sort of personality, but after getting married he’d shaved off his beard, which made him look younger, if a bit worse for it.

The moment he stepped out, Peng Yueyun noticed two people turn their gaze toward Xu Shaoyuan. Peng Yueyun thought of a joke about being “moved to the point of rejection,” but held his tongue out of decency.

Qu Qing was a smooth operator who knew practically everyone. He came over and exchanged a few greetings, and then everyone filed into the meeting room and took their seats. After roll call, including Qu Qing there were twenty-four people present, most of them sharp-minded younger officers on the rise.

“I’ll be chairing today’s meeting,” Qu Qing said. “This meeting is an important one, because we’re going to be briefing you on some new developments. But there’s no need to be too tense about it — as far as I know, similar meetings are starting today at the division-level staff level in both armies as well. In a bit, you’ll be joining the discussion, so be ready to share your own thoughts.”

He didn’t bother with much small talk, stepping forward and dragging out a blackboard with a map hung on it, then drew a circle over the Central Plains region on the map.

“Here’s the situation,” he said. “Three months ago, the Chairman called together a small group of us from General Staff and quietly assigned us a piece of homework. The task was this: given that Zou Xu had joined forces with Dai Mengwei to swallow up Liu Guangshi’s territory, what would he do next…”

A breeze cut through the rain outside, rattling the windows; someone latched one shut.

Qu Qing went on, “At the time, Bianliang was already in the middle of hosting the so-called Chinese Martial Arts Tournament. Based on the information gathered from all sides at that point, the general consensus was that after absorbing Liu Guangshi’s territory, he’d focus overall on recuperation, maintaining good relations with his neighbors, and consolidating his holdings. He was negotiating an arms deal with the Jin territory at the time, planning to help restore the livelihoods of the Guanzhong region to the west, and was even working to build good relations with the Fair Party to the east — all of which seemed to point in that direction. But once we ran the projections, the Chairman rejected all of those conclusions. He asked us to factor in Zou Xu’s temperament, his current position, his understanding of us, and his views and expectations regarding the long-term situation, and to project forward from there — and moreover, to construct the worst-case scenario.”

He paused.

“So we went through many more rounds of projection and discussion,” Qu Qing said, picking up a piece of chalk. “In the rounds that followed, we went back a few years and worked from the assumption of Zou Xu’s underlying fear. Understand — Zou Xu betrayed the Huaxia Army partly for the sake of pleasure, and partly, of course, because he’d been suspected and pushed out. But after leaving the Huaxia Army, what he actually faced wasn’t some brief prospect of indulgence. Even from the very start, he’d already factored in Dai Mengwei, factored in pushing Liu Guangshi out, factored in unifying the Central Plains under himself — but deep down, could he really be happy with any of that?”

“So we’re operating on the assumption that from the very day he betrayed the Huaxia Army, he’s been giving very serious thought to the situation he’s actually facing — which isn’t strange at all, he has the capacity for it — which means he knows that sooner or later, once the land reform is complete, the Huaxia Army will move to wipe him out, and he’ll come to a bad end. Given that, his field of vision is probably stretching very, very far.”

Qu Qing set the chalk against the board and began drawing circles.

“Here’s the southwest.”

“…The Fair Party.”

“…The short-lived usurper at Lin’an.”

“…The southeastern court.”

“…Shandong.”

“…The Jin territory.”

“…Guanzhong.”

“…The northwest.”

“…And…” Qu Qing paused, then drew a circle beyond the northwest. “…The Mongols.”

Lightning flashed outside the window; someone frowned, but Qu Qing didn’t stop. He slowly moved the chalk upward and began drawing another, larger circle.

“This…” Everyone in the room furrowed their brows.

“And finally… the Jurchens.”

Qu Qing finished the circle and began adding arrows pointing upward from it.

The rumble of thunder rolled through.

Someone raised a hand. “I… I have a thought.”

Qu Qing kept drawing, without turning around. “Go ahead.”

“What I mean is… is this a projection… or has it already been confirmed as fact?”

Qu Qing finished drawing and turned around, brushing the chalk dust from his hands. “Part of it is projection.” At this, he called out, “Xiao Hua.” A soldier came in from outside carrying a bag of files, and Qu Qing tossed it to the first person seated at the front. “Pass it around.”

Some in the room looked visibly shaken; some nearly rose to their feet. Qu Qing spread his hands.

“Based on more than thirty pieces of information we’ve received from outside sources over the past half month, all corroborating one another, we can basically confirm that part of what we projected has already become reality, or is in the process of becoming reality. As of a report we received yesterday afternoon, we now have preliminary confirmation that the rebel army that headed northwest back in March has already been cut off and surrounded by a Mongol force advancing from west of Hengshan — and some, possibly a large portion of it, may already have been wiped out…”

Qu Qing tapped his finger against the blackboard. “At the same time — although we haven’t received specific confirmation yet — there’s already evidence of Zou Xu’s ambitions toward Guanzhong, along with traces of troop movements on his part. In the past few days — quite possibly right now, as we speak — we believe Guanzhong has already fallen in step with the rest. And of course, taking Guanzhong will simultaneously expose an even bigger scheme of his: to take Guanzhong necessarily means striking at the Jin territory!”

As the thunder rolled outside and Qu Qing spoke, the light in the meeting room seemed to dim slightly. The files being passed around held a great deal of information; people stepped forward, each taking a copy to read, and the room filled with murmured whispers and low conversation. One figure stood up. “Out of all this, there’s one piece of news I care about most — I’m curious.”

“Go ahead.”

“The Jurchens in the projection… is that real?”

Everyone in the room went still for a moment.

“Can’t be confirmed. A lot of this is still just projection.”

“Come on.” Someone slapped a palm on the table. “If he’s really going to come at us with everything, how could the Jurchens not be part of it?”

“No, that’s not right — conspiring with the Jin state would get him spat on by the whole world. And besides, how would he even persuade them…”

“I’ve got a way!” Someone stood up. “If you send me, I’m seventy percent sure I could convince the Jin state to march south with him!”

“Go defect right now, then, immediately!”

“If the Jin state really does march south, I’ll call him my senior martial brother — and in the future, I’ll fight against everyone else just to make sure his body’s kept whole when he dies — I’ll fight the whole room on it!”

“Looking at it this way, the mutiny on the twenty-first is connected to him too.”

“That much is already obvious.”

“Nobody said we’re marching out to fight, why get so worked up.”

“I am worked up, land reform is boring as hell.”

“What are you talking about, land reform is interesting, land reform is very interesting. Here, pass me another copy…”

“I’m just saying I’m not good at land reform, I didn’t mean it’s boring, I just mean I’m better suited to other things — I’m better suited to other things.”

Thunder rolled past overhead, and in the room, the assembled officers murmured among themselves, and for some reason, one after another couldn’t help but rise to their feet, hands going up now and then to speak. Peng Yueyun’s heart was pounding too. He looked over the reports one by one, trying to glimpse the larger strategy behind them, and for the moment he set aside the matters of Fang Cheng and Tang Minjie that had been weighing on him just a short while ago.

That’s right — he didn’t care about land reform either, right now all he wanted was to kill Jurchen dogs—

…

Rumble—

Farther across the land, thunder rolled on unceasing over the Chengdu Plain.

In a hospital room not too far from Zhang Village, Lou Shuwan opened her one remaining eye, sensing the stillness within the thunderstorm. Then she saw the man sitting by the window, reading a book.

She drew a few breaths.

“I heard things have been rough lately… how did you end up here?”

“Things reached a critical point, and someone wasn’t being loyal, so I came to give him a piece of my mind.”

“This is an old wound of mine, nothing to be done about it — I couldn’t even go to Zhanmei’s funeral. That doesn’t sit easy with me either.”

“I went in your place,” said Ning Yi, seated by the window. “Don’t worry, it was handled properly.”

“I heard the report on the mutiny on the twenty-first — they’re saying it’s connected to Zou Xu?”

“From what we can tell so far, a whole chain of arrangements has already been set in motion. What happened on our end was just one part of it — we simply happened to be caught up in the timing.”

“We weren’t the ones to move against him, and yet here he comes at you instead — quite the disciple you raised.”

“The new land policy was always going to force a redistribution of interests, and a redistribution of interests was always going to start people debating who gets to hold power once the realm is won. He’s simply taken advantage of the situation — trying to rally the people we were bound to shed in the course of reform. Which tells me he actually understood my lessons, and put his mind to work.”

“Every reform sheds some who can’t keep pace. The next reform sheds a few more. And then a few more after that. In the end, in order to keep moving forward, it’s possible that everyone gets left behind eventually — and once everyone’s been replaced in turn, Ning Yi, what was our reform even for?”

“Someone’s been feeding you ideas.”

Qin Shaoqian lay there, a faint smile spreading across his face. “Well, I have been awake for three days now — I’ve heard whatever there was to hear.” He tilted his head. “So… Liheng, have you thought about the answer to that? Doesn’t moving forward like this seem awfully cruel?”

“I’ve thought about that question many times myself.” Ning Yi sat by the window and closed his book, lightning flashing past just beside him. “If all of us really are replaced, in turn, then perhaps the common people of the realm stand to gain the greatest benefit of all.”

The thunder rolled on, tremendous and unbroken, rumbling across the whole expanse of the land. Qin Shaoqian burst out laughing, reaching out to slap the bed, roaring with laughter.

“Good…” As the thunder gradually faded, his laughter continued, and he said, “I, Qin Shaoqian, following in the footsteps of my father and brother, have spent half a lifetime reading the words of the sages — and of all of it, your answer, Ning Liheng, is the finest of all. Good — good—”

Ning Yi walked over and tucked his hand back beneath the blanket, telling him not to get so worked up.

“Honestly… I might not even manage to see it through myself… I have my own soft-heartedness, my own hesitations, more often than not.”

“Go as far as you’re able to go.” Qin Shaoqian closed his eyes and sighed. “After Father passed, you’ve already carved out a path of your own.”

Ning Yi sat by the bedside, and the room fell quiet for a long while. Eventually Qin Shaoqian opened his eyes again and looked over. “Tell me… this chain of arrangements that’s already been set in motion — where else has it reached?”

Ning Yi looked at him.

“The Jin territory… it’s in trouble.”

…

Lightning and thunder went on roaring across the sky of their own accord, but stretch the scale of one’s view wide enough, and even the thunder and lightning across the land begin to seem small.

The rolling winds of heaven swept across the rugged mountain ranges, skimmed over plains and hills alike, and crossed the surging waters of the Yangtze and the Yellow River.

Thousands of li away, in the Jin territory.

Waking from unconsciousness, Lou Shuwan tasted the tang of rust and iron at the back of her throat; one side of her face stung sharply where it had been scraped raw by stone, and her body ached with injury besides. When she tried to push herself up, a fiercer pain lanced through her like lightning, and she collapsed back down again.

She fell back among the corpses.

Gritting her teeth, she trembled as she drew her arm out from beneath her — the little finger and ring finger of her left hand had already twisted into a ghastly angle.

It was evening, and the wind howled.

She was not in Weisheng.

Understood — switching topics now.