The stars hung sparse in the sky; it was not yet midnight, and across Hangzhou, things were gradually settling into quiet.

The waves of disturbance stirred up by Qi Yuankang’s rebellion had not fully died down yet, but the commotion caused by scattered followers and those still putting up desperate resistance had already been contained to a very small area. The lights across the city had dimmed to their lowest point; only occasionally would soldiers pass along the streets, along with the rare straggler hurrying home. Though the affair had grown fairly large, the city had not yet gone under curfew—in some places soldiers would carry out brief searches, but it hadn’t yet reached the point where no one dared step outside.

Up at the Four Seasons Hall, the gathering had already broken up. Wenren Buer, in his role as manager, was directing the few remaining waiters as they set the establishment back in order. What people would be buzzing about tonight would likely not be the literary gathering Zhu Yanlin had hosted, but rather the fierce clash that had followed between Ning Liheng, Liu Jin, and Li Tianyou. When that woman carrying the box had come upstairs, and Li Tianyou had waved for his men to follow and left just like that, it had left everyone rather puzzled—but once the woman, too, left carrying her box, the literary gathering at the hall came to its end.

A physician had come afterward to treat Liu Jin, and had also bandaged and treated Ning Liheng. Once a few people belonging to the Overlord Blade Battalion arrived to handle the aftermath, everyone cupped their hands and took their leave of Zhu Yanlin. Since few in Hangzhou had had much dealing with the Overlord Blade Battalion, most were unfamiliar with this group that had come in—at most they knew the Overlord Blade Battalion dealt in the timber trade, but there wasn’t much rapport to be had with them for now. If one had to guess, it seemed the Overlord Blade Battalion’s men had arrived, Li Tianyou had swallowed a loss he couldn’t voice, and knowing further entanglement would gain him nothing, he had simply withdrawn without a word.

Anyone with deeper ties or higher standing within Fang La’s ranks might have thought of other things—for instance, just who that woman who had shown herself only briefly and then left really was. Zhu Yanlin, for one, on his way downstairs earlier, had had a passing thought that this woman who had suddenly appeared might well be the rumored Liu Dabiao herself, though he could not be sure of it in his own mind. As it happened, Wenren Buer, watching from the side, had entertained the same possibility. Not long after, he received a great deal of news filtering in from around the city.

The sudden news of rebellion earlier had, in the end, amounted to more noise than substance—whatever Qi Yuankang’s true intentions had been, this time the plan to deal with him had been set from above first, and Qi Yuankang had only been forced into his final act of resistance afterward. But what had ultimately settled the matter belonged to Liu Dabiao’s Overlord Blade Battalion. The forces stationed within Hangzhou at present numbered only eight hundred for the Overlord Blade Battalion, yet they counted among the core strength under Fang La’s command. The Overlord Blade Battalion, however, had always kept a low profile, was not part of the central command circle, and its true weight was difficult to gauge from outside. One could imagine that the original plan to deal with Qi Yuankang had met resistance from the Overlord Blade Battalion, but in the end, Liu Dabiao had reluctantly given her consent. She had first sent someone to deliver a poem to the district where Qi Yuankang was holed up—and this poem matched, word for word, the one that woman who later came upstairs had written, titled “Laughing Proudly Across the Rivers and Lakes”:

The winds and clouds of this world rise up from men like us, and once you enter these rivers and lakes, the years press on. Grand ambitions spoken of in idle laughter, life itself no more than a single drunken spell. Sword raised astride a steed, stirring up a rain of ghosts, white bones piled like mountains, startled birds take flight. This mortal world churns like the tide, people flow like water— in vain I lament how few return from these rivers and lakes.

Among the scant information Wenren Buer had gathered about the Overlord Blade Battalion before this, this woman named Liu Dabiao had never shown any particular literary gift—no one knew who had actually composed this verse, one that set the tone for, and lamented, everything Qi Yuankang had done. Afterward, Liu Dabiao had led the most elite force of the Overlord Blade Battalion in a forceful assault, and after a fierce struggle, had personally taken Qi Yuankang’s head with her own hand. Everything since had merely been the lingering aftermath.

As for the Pacification Battalion, which had also been party to this affair, it seemed they too had largely received word of Qi Yuankang’s death. Down below the Four Seasons Hall, the surrounding soldiers had not originally meant to let that woman go upstairs—but evidently, after she wrote out that poem, one of the Pacification Battalion’s advisors had sensed something was wrong and had rushed up to inform Li Tianyou, which was why Li Tianyou had left in such evident anger. This was as much as Wenren Buer could currently piece together as fact; in the meantime, the identity of that woman had become one of the most closely watched mysteries of the night.

For now, though, Wenren Buer was not dwelling on that particular question. Whether that woman had truly been Liu Dabiao, or someone else borrowing her name and reputation to intimidate, was of little use to think about any further at this point. Right now, he stood in that ruined little private room, carefully examining everything around him.

To Zhu Yanlin and the forty or fifty other scholars and courtesans who had witnessed it, this matter held little significance or mystery. But to the many present who understood martial arts, it was, all but a genuine unsolved riddle.

After Tang Kou was killed, both the men of the Pacification Battalion and Wenren Buer, watching from the side, had immediately searched the room and its surroundings for any suspicious figure. Everyone was certain that Ning Liheng could not possibly have cut down that man named Tang Kou himself—given his style, the most likely explanation was that he had set an ambush, or arranged for an accomplice, in that dark little room. But afterward, quick as the Pacification Battalion’s men had been in their search, they found no trace of anything suspicious at all.

Wenren Buer, at the time, had been drawing closer with just such an idea in mind—he had meant to get into that small room and, while everyone else was still too stunned to react, cut down Tang Kou himself. But things had happened too quickly, and he simply hadn’t had the chance. Even if he had somehow managed to get in, catching the man off guard, he could indeed have taken Tang Kou’s head with one stroke—but there was no way he could have escaped that room again in so short a span of time.

So then—if there really had been a third person in that room, just who could it possibly have been?

…

A night wind blew past, carrying with it the chill of deep autumn. Ning Liheng walked along the street, running back over everything that had happened, trying to let his head clear a little.

Tonight’s fight had, for him, been a truly desperate gamble made with no real certainty of survival—one misstep, and he might well have lost his life. He had been mentally prepared for that possibility, but now that it was over, a great wave of exhaustion born of having survived a brush with death still rose up within him. Everything that had just happened felt almost like a dream; if he had to go through it again, he honestly couldn’t say how it would turn out—though, admittedly, he thought this every single time.

After the fighting had ended, several people from the Overlord Blade Manor had come by as well—men of relatively low standing, of whom Ning Liheng recognized only one, a carpenter. His own injuries were not especially severe, but Liu Jin’s condition was genuinely worrying, and for the moment there was nothing to do but have a physician treat him at a nearby clinic. Once he had confirmed Liu Jin was in no danger, Ning Liheng prepared to walk home; two men from the Overlord Blade Manor tagged along, to help ensure his safety at a time like this.

To be honest, the appearance of these men had rather taken Ning Liheng by surprise. Given how readily Li Tianyou had left, he now found himself suspecting that the woman who had shown herself only briefly might well have been Liu Dabiao herself, without her veil, dressed in men’s clothing. But if it really had been Liu Dabiao, then whoever had come afterward to handle the aftermath ought to have been, if not her personal guards from the Overlord Blade Battalion, then at least one of the eight sworn enforcers of “a life for a life, a debt for a debt.” Along the way, he asked the two men about it. Neither, however, knew the woman’s identity—they only said that someone had come to them bearing a token, and since they’d happened to be nearby, they had hurried over.

“Still, that woman really was beautiful. If you told us she was the Manor Lord herself, we’d believe it.”

“Her figure from behind really did look a bit like her, too…”

“If the Manor Lord heard us talking about her like this, she’d have our hides…”

“I’d guess she’s someone close to the Manor Lord. Master Ning, you’ve never met her?”

The two chattered on beside him. Liu Dabiao commanded no small degree of authority in the minds of those within the Manor, but she had always kept her distance in daily life; few among the lower ranks had even seen the veiled Manor Lord, let alone unveiled. Just as they were talking, a figure appeared on the road ahead, and the two of them fell silent at once.

They were still some distance from Xiliu Street, where the Overlord Blade Manor now stood. This street was quiet, with shops and houses of every size already shuttered for the night—but not far off, the lights of one shop were still lit. It was a small eatery selling braised pig-face and similar cold dishes, with an awning set up out front. Beneath that wooden canopy, at one of the tables, sat the woman who had appeared earlier, her back to the street, apparently eating a meal. That long wooden box used to carry the Overlord Blade sat beside her on the table.

“You two… go on back first,” Ning Liheng said quietly to the men beside him.

“But if we leave, you’ll be alone here…”

“That young lady scared off Li Tianyou all by herself. With her here, I doubt anything will happen to me… Besides, if she really is your Manor Lord, there’s no harm in your going up to greet her—if you catch grief for it later, don’t blame me.”

Hearing this, the two men thought it over for a moment, then nodded, circling around the other side of the street—though as they passed, they couldn’t help sneaking a glance or two at the woman’s face. Ning Liheng approached from behind. For the moment, he privately suspected that the woman before him might not actually be Liu Dabiao—though her build did look rather similar, her bearing now felt somewhat different.

“Dabiao?”

He said this as he sat down in the seat beside her. The woman, still eating, glanced at him—her expression neither cold nor unusually warm. She was beautiful, with the bearing of a wealthy young lady, her face carrying a faint trace of baby fat, though her skin did not look particularly rosy—more as if she’d had a long, exhausting day. She swallowed the mouthful of rice in her mouth and said, “Is your wound all right?”

“Not too serious. Thank you.” With his head bandaged, Ning Liheng at the moment rather resembled someone wearing a crooked turban. Still, compared to Liu Jin, he could at least walk and move about freely—his wounds were all superficial, with no sign of concussion. As a self-proclaimed “Bloody-Handed Butcher,” he supposed he didn’t need to think too highly of himself over a little damage.

“Since you’re all right, hurry back home. It’s not safe out tonight—you shouldn’t linger here.”

“Looks like things are all right, then.” Since she hadn’t confirmed her identity, Ning Liheng only glanced at that wooden box—it was indeed the kind used to store Liu Dabiao’s overlord blade, though at the Overlord Blade Manor there were more than a few such boxes. Looking again at the woman’s rather pale complexion, he ventured to ask, “Are you injured?”

The woman glanced at him, then said, “Then let’s just eat together.”

There were only a few dishes of braised meats on the table, but Ning Liheng was hungry regardless, and he was somewhat curious about this woman as well. He went to the shopkeeper on his own and got himself a bowl and chopsticks, served himself some rice, and began to eat. For a while, neither of them spoke. They had only taken a few bites when a carriage rolled up not far off, and before long, the person who arrived confirmed the suspicion in his heart.

Accompanied by eight or nine attendants, the man who stepped down from the carriage was Lou Jingzhi, whom Ning Liheng had briefly met at the Four Seasons Hall. He got out, and upon seeing the young woman beneath the awning, let out a faint sigh of relief—though upon spotting Ning Liheng, his brow furrowed once more. He then walked over.

“Liu… Dabiao. And this must be Master Ning… may I sit?” He seemed to hesitate at first over how to address her, but in the end settled on “Liu Dabiao”; toward Ning Liheng, though, his greeting was purely perfunctory. Ning Liheng, having noticed earlier that the young woman showed no particular wish to drive him off, had stayed put, and now found himself with something of a headache.

There was a betrothal between Lou Jingzhi and Liu Dabiao…

It seemed the young couple had arranged to meet here—and his own presence, butting in like this, felt rather inconsiderate.

He sighed inwardly and was about to open his mouth to take his leave, but a moment later, what happened next made it clear things weren’t quite as he had assumed.

“I just remembered I have something to attend to—I’ll be going now.”

Ning Liheng was not one to drag his feet; with these words, he cupped his hands and rose. Beside him, Liu Xigua raised an eyebrow and glanced at Lou Jingzhi. “You’d better not sit down.” Then, to Ning Liheng, she said, “Sit back down. You can leave after you’ve finished eating.” Her tone toward Ning Liheng, though, had softened considerably.

Even having been through a great many things, faced with this particular situation, Ning Liheng still felt somewhat at a loss. Across from him, Lou Jingzhi glanced at him once, then pulled out the bench beside him and sat down, paying Ning Liheng no further mind.

“I… heard about what happened tonight. I just happened to be passing by, and figured you wouldn’t be in the best of moods, so I came to check on you…”

The night was still and quiet, and the scholar’s voice, as he spoke, sounded rather gentle…