By the time morning’s sunlight rose, an air of panic and unrest already hung over the entire city.
Word of fighting near Qiantang Gate in the west drifted in fragments; the fire in the north still seemed to be spreading, though the whole picture remained a haze of confusion — no one could say for certain whether it was the army clashing with rioters inside the city, or the army fighting Fang La’s infiltrators who’d slipped in. As this chaos spread, clashes large and small broke out across Hangzhou, leaving people fearful and with nowhere to turn.
As one of Jiangnan’s most important and symbolically significant cities, Hangzhou had not seen the flames of war since the founding of the Wu Dynasty. Even in earlier times, when the south had been unsettled and Fang La and others fought back and forth around Shezhou and Wuzhou, the Wude Battalion’s tight defense here had made everyone understand Hangzhou’s outsized importance — at least for those who’d lived for generations around Suzhou and Hangzhou, the sense of danger from war had always felt impossibly distant. Which was precisely why, now that word had come that Fang La’s forces had struck, turning nightmare into overnight reality, every household in the city found itself utterly stunned.
Hangzhou was a prosperous place, and the imperial guards and provincial troops stationed here were of considerable number, though ultimate command rested with the Wude Battalion. These past several days, due to the earthquake, the Wude Battalion’s main forces had already gathered here, with roughly thirty thousand troops guarding both inside and outside the city. Once the unrest at Qiantang Gate in the west broke out, the army immediately drew inward, sealed all four gates, sounded the alarm, resisted the enemy, and began suppressing the chaos within the city.
It wasn’t that the army lacked numbers — the Wude Battalion, stationed here in Hangzhou, was well-supplied at present, and its combat strength could be relied upon. Amid the chaos that had begun that morning, Ning Yi and the others at Taiping Lane could do little but listen to how things were developing while holding their own lane, unable to make real sense of where events were heading. Everyone on the street waited anxiously for some definite news; some came to ask Ning Yi what could be done. In the end he simply waved a hand and sent his own cook back to make breakfast.
When the danger of war and violence was right at hand, and there weren’t enough resources close by, even Ning Yi could hardly claim to have much of a clear head — and now the fire in the north was still spreading. Recalling how Yuan Dingqi had looked the day before, only to be beheaded that very morning, it seemed certain that Fang La’s men had slipped into the city early on, taking advantage of the chaos — though just how many, there was no telling for sure. For now, all he could do was trust in the Wude Battalion’s fighting strength and wait for more news to make the trend clearer.
Of course, waiting alone wasn’t the only thing that needed doing. By this point, it was time to take stock of what he himself could actually manage.
Morning porridge.
Various sounds still drifted in from every corner of the city, a low buzzing that grated on the nerves. Ning Yi sat in the courtyard with his family eating breakfast; outside on the street, people still moved about anxiously, but for now order still held mainly street by street, and no one dared venture far beyond Taiping Lane — after all, no one knew whether they might run into one of Fang La’s infiltrators. Ning Yi thought it over for a while, then told Dongzhu to have the carriage readied. Everyone nearby was startled by the decision; Xiao Chan’s eyes went wide. “M-Master, what are you planning to do…”
“Nothing much…” Ning Yi was about to explain when the deputy headman came in from outside the courtyard as well. It turned out some Wude Battalion soldiers had just come by, ordering every street to keep close to their homes and not wander about — apparently some of Fang La’s bandits were stirring up trouble within the city, and the Wude Battalion was moving to root them out, to keep them from exploiting the chaos further.
The deputy headman added that, according to the soldiers, the unrest near Qiantang Gate in the west had already been anticipated — the enemy had been repelled outside the gate, and though they still hoped to push through the breach in the wall, they were bound to fail. The residents were told not to worry. Listening to the sounds of that morning’s commotion, this account did seem plausible enough — Hangzhou, after all, still had capable people; with the wall already down, it wasn’t as though they’d left themselves entirely undefended. It seemed the officers had deliberately shown a weak point to bait the enemy in — though the sheer scale of noise the infiltrators who did get inside had managed to produce was probably more than they’d bargained for.
This eased Ning Yi’s mind somewhat, though the military’s word couldn’t be trusted entirely — what he’d already decided to do, he’d still go through with. He told the deputy headman he’d be heading out shortly, produced the commander’s token from the day before, offered a few perfunctory excuses, and the man nodded and went off to inform the others that Taiping Lane was now under lockdown.
Once the deputy headman had gone, Xiao Chan looked ready to cry with worry. “Master, where are you even going? Those bandits are already in the city — what if you run into them?”
Ning Yi said quietly, “Going to call on the Qian family, taking care of some business, and seeing if we can secure a boat. The canal north is out, but there are still seagoing vessels on the Qiantang River east…”
“You can’t, not now, and there are bandits out there…”
“Have to give it a shot. Don’t forget, your master here is also a ruthless, blood-handed butcher — we’re all people of the martial world, nothing to fear. I’ll be back soon.” Ning Yi comforted her with a smile, then pulled her against him with one arm and patted her shoulder. Plenty of family members were around, yet he did it as though it were the most natural thing in the world. Xiao Chan froze for a moment, catching only Ning Yi’s faint mutter to himself: “Give it a shot, turn the bicycle into a motorcycle…”
He only held her a moment before letting go. Su Tan’er, watching from across the way, showed no concern at all over him embracing Xiao Chan — she simply drew him a little aside and said quietly, “Xiao Chan’s right. A seagoing boat right now might well be…”
“I know.” Ning Yi nodded, answering in a low voice. “Ships can leave the harbor, but surely not many, and I’d guess the docks are already packed by now — we’d have no chance getting a spot ourselves. But so long as the authorities have any hope left, they won’t let ships leave at all, or morale would only collapse further — that route’s definitely being kept as a last resort. I want to be prepared either way. If it really comes to fleeing, I need to find a way to secure some spots — you, Wenfang and Wending, Xiao Chan, Juan’er, Xing’er… The Wude Battalion’s prepared, the city won’t fall quickly, but I have to get to Qian Xiwen early. And it’s not just about the ship — we need a third contingency too.”
“What about everyone else…”
“I’ll do what I can, but if it truly comes down to a breach…” Ning Yi considered a moment. “I can only prioritize the two of us.”
Su Tan’er took his hand and nodded. “…Come back quickly, husband. I’ll watch things here.”
Ning Yi nodded. Dongzhu had already hitched the carriage; Ning Yi decided not to have him drive, judging the risk outside manageable, though not negligible — after a moment’s thought he loaded two jars of gunpowder onto the carriage as well. He drove off out of the lane himself.
As he made his way along, many of the streets and lanes were already tightly held by their own residents. The unrest remained concentrated in the area up north where the fire had spread, but from a distance, the worst of it seemed to have been contained; it appeared to be splintering into smaller pockets spreading outward, though the area was far enough that it shouldn’t reach this way anytime soon. After a while, though, he noticed a few lanes that weren’t simply holding their ground — some had organized guards and able-bodied men, weapons in hand, apparently heading somewhere. He encountered several such groups in short order. Sitting in the carriage, Ning Yi thought it over briefly, then, when he encountered another group, pulled over and produced the token.
The man leading them, seeing the token, seemed uncertain what to make of it, but Ning Yi at least didn’t look like one of the bandits. “Earlier someone told us to hold our own streets,” the man said, “but a while ago some soldiers came saying we should send men to help defend the city, gather at Xichun Bridge — anyone who refuses will face military law. Who exactly are we supposed to listen to?”
Ning Yi parted ways with this group, and not long after ran into another heading in a different direction, claiming an order had come from a courier telling them to gather at Gumao Lane. This man, covered head to toe in blood, spoke sternly and carried an official yamen token — the group naturally didn’t dare disobey. Ning Yi drew a breath and told them to go back and hold their own homes instead. The group seemed to believe him and began heading back.
Similar things were likely happening all over the city by now. Ning Yi could see some of the pattern in it, though he had no time to sort it out fully, and made his way straight to the Qian residence. By now, a good number of the Qian family’s buildings had collapsed as well, with large numbers of household guards keeping watch over the surrounding area. Still, once Ning Yi sent word ahead, Qian Xiwen received him almost immediately.
At the Qian family’s ancestral estate, the house Qian Xiwen himself had been living in hadn’t actually collapsed in the earthquake, though shelters had still been erected in the courtyard. As Ning Yi was led in, the old man sat in a chair beneath the shelter, drinking tea. With the courtyard wall knocked down, one could see clear out to the smoke and dust hanging over the northern sky from here. Seeing Ning Yi approach, Qian Xiwen rose with a smile and set down his teacup on the table. The old man looked remarkably composed, and seemed rather pleased that Ning Yi had come to see him now, of all times, calling for a servant to pour tea.
“Liheng, sit. No need for formality in a place this humble. That house of mine, though it didn’t collapse, has still had the younger generation worrying constantly — insisting an old man like me shouldn’t have to make do with a straw shelter. But then again, with the wall down, the breeze at night’s quite pleasant. Things aren’t easy for you either, I’d wager?”
Ning Yi bowed to him. “This humble one has come to ask about the defense of the city, and to hear Master Qian’s views.”
Qian Xiwen nodded. “At the Start of Autumn gathering, you offended the Lou family — and yet even after the earthquake, you never came to me over it, which tells me you had your own sense of the situation. Today, you’ve come straight away, which tells me you’re not simply proud for pride’s sake. Knowing how to respond, when to press and when to yield, having some backbone — this is admirable.”
Just then a servant brought Ning Yi tea. Qian Xiwen raised his own cup and gestured toward the north. “I’m a scholar, old friend — I have no real handle on today’s affairs. Still, I sent someone to inquire just now. As for the bandits taking advantage of the earthquake to seize the city, the army was prepared. The bandits under Fang La who moved suddenly near Qiantang Gate saw their first wave of attack fully repelled. If you’re asking me about the fighting itself, Liheng, I can’t speak to that with any authority — but the people I asked seemed to carry a fair measure of confidence, though… that fire did catch them somewhat off guard, and the conditions in the city now suggest a good many of Fang La’s men truly have made their way inside. Still, if the attack outside falters, and the whole city turns against them, they won’t hold out much longer.”
Ning Yi nodded. “So the army is confident, then.”
Qian Xiwen took a sip of tea and paused a moment. “Once you take on a duty, you’re responsible for it. As for confidence — everyone has some, that’s easy enough to say. Without this earthquake, though, the situation would be considerably better.”
“Does Master Qian himself have confidence?”
Qian Xiwen laughed and shook his head. “I already told you — I’m a scholar, old friend. It’s not for me to say, and I oughtn’t to say it. Still, that you’re able to ask such a question — for Siyuan’s sake, I won’t hold back on certain things. In the fighting to the west, the Wuwei and Wuzhou armies have traded victories and defeats with Fang La’s forces; when there’s something to report, it’s always framed as a great victory. But in military and political circles alike, there’s no shortage of deceiving those above and misleading those below — as for how much credence to give this account or that, I still have to see for myself. Truth be told, though Wuwei and Wuzhou haven’t suffered any real defeat, Fang La’s forces don’t seem badly weakened either — if anything their momentum keeps growing. This time he’s turned to attack Hangzhou. Hangzhou’s an important stronghold, untouched by war for many years — that the Wude Battalion can hold it… that much, I believe, largely. But I’ve lived long enough, seen enough, to know that if the worst should happen… that’s not something I care to dwell on…”
The old man lowered his voice, though not out of any need for secrecy. “The Wude Battalion is said to be elite, but it hasn’t seen real combat in many years — there’s no precedent for how they’ll fare defending a siege now, and that’s a real weakness. Fang La’s forces may not be so formidable either, being little more than half-starved men… I’ve never been close to warfare myself, but Siyuan once remarked that even a force that looks impressive on the surface isn’t necessarily one that always wins…”
Qian Xiwen was, after all, not a man easily fooled. In a siege, victory was victory, but defeat meant countless families ruined. Though he believed victory likely, he remained clear-eyed about it. Ning Yi listened, then raised his head. “This humble one is being presumptuous — but if things went wrong, the southern seaport should still be passable, shouldn’t it?”
“Mm. Since the army had already prepared, those ships were requisitioned early on — though unless the city truly falls, they won’t be allowed to move. There aren’t many seagoing vessels, and only a limited number can go — the moment departures begin, there’ll surely be a mutiny down at the docks.”
“When the time comes, I’d like to request seven places. I’ll repay the favor handsomely.”
“Seven’s rather a lot.” Qian Xiwen smiled. “But it can be done. I’ll have the credentials brought to you shortly. As for myself, I won’t be taking a boat out — if it truly comes to that, I can always fight my way out with the retreating troops.”
“My thanks. This is simply prudence — I have family here, as does Master Qian. I’d rather nothing happen to them. Oh, and on my way here I noticed something…”
Ning Yi related to Qian Xiwen what he’d encountered on the road. Qian Xiwen frowned. Ning Yi went on: “Fang La’s forces have been troubling us not far to the west for some time now, but for them to launch a coordinated attack from inside and out just seven days after the earthquake — that strikes me as quite fast. Those refugees streaming in likely aren’t genuine refugees at all — gathering here slowly, taking care not to be found out, would take time. Most of them are almost certainly bandit soldiers selected in advance. And the city’s own system for relaying orders has its own established channels — spreading false messages isn’t impossible, but it would take some real difficulty to manage. That they’ve responded this fast, setting fires on one side while spreading conflicting orders on the other — I wonder if there’s more going on in the city that we haven’t heard of…”
“There has indeed been unrest near Fenghuang Gate as well,” Qian Xiwen interjected. “The wall there has partly collapsed too, and the Wude Battalion has posted heavy guard, but there’s been no sign of an actual assault from outside. Go on, Liheng.”
“Then they’re planting false threats everywhere, meant to keep the Wude Battalion running ragged in coordination with the attack outside. To spread it this thin, everyone who got in must be a skilled operative, and to time it this precisely, I’d guess they’d already started planning before the earthquake ever struck. Fang La must have made preparations to move on Hangzhou beforehand, and midway through carrying it out, ran into the earthquake…”
Qian Xiwen stared for a moment, then sighed. “So… they’ve had heaven’s own timing on their side…”
“I hope Master Qian can pass this along as soon as possible to whoever’s responsible for the city’s defense. Whoever planned all this is formidable, and he must be inside the city — otherwise the response inside wouldn’t be lagging so badly. If he could be rooted out, it might ease the pressure both inside and outside the city somewhat.” Ning Yi paused; he was, after all, far too unfamiliar with Hangzhou to say much more, and reminding them of this much would have to suffice. “There’s one more thing — I’d like to ask Master Qian for a token of authority.”
“What kind of token?”
“I’d like to go persuade the wealthy merchants and prominent households around Taiping Lane, and the various martial arts halls and escort agencies, to lend their support. The army has enough men in the city for now — there’s likely no need to mobilize them for the defense right away. But if the worst should happen, if they’re needed, or if everyone needs to flee at once, I might be able to make things go somewhat better. As for the ships — there simply aren’t enough for everyone who’d want one, so I’d like to do what little I can, and keep open a third path.”
Qian Xiwen studied him for a good while, then, with an odd smile, said, “A man who’s earned Master Qin’s regard can’t be simple — that much I’ve always known. But there’s one thing I’ve been meaning to ask you, Liheng. What exactly is it you’re truly skilled at?”
Ning Yi thought about it, then, after a moment, clasped his hands and said, “Last year’s disaster-relief strategy — I wrote that. As for the rest, it’s hard to say.”
Qian Xiwen nodded slightly at this, then opened a drawer and took out several tokens.
“…This should do it.”