The rooster had crowed three times, and dawn had broken, but the area around the courtyard was still shrouded in white mist, swirling and lingering. The lamplight from next door shone through it like fireflies suspended beneath the treetops at night. All around remained quiet, with barely any sound — only the mist drifting slowly by.

Pouring cold water from a wooden bucket into the pot, Xiao Chan fed firewood into the stove and sat beside it, fanning the flames with a small palm-leaf fan. Having been pulled into the room by Ning Yi and then come back out again, she had already dressed herself properly once more — but what had happened that morning still left her feeling a little shy, as though she’d been caught doing something illicit. And yet, it was only under circumstances like the ones in Hangzhou now that she could feel this particular mix of bashfulness and warmth; if she ever left Hangzhou and returned to being with her mistress and the others, she would never again be able to share such moments with her master.

Given how much she respected Su Tan’er, she wasn’t the type to grow jealous of her mistress simply because she now had this kind of relationship with her master. But given the circumstances, the girl’s mind couldn’t help but drift sometimes to the thought that she truly did have him all to herself here — depending on each other, sharing hardship together — and that feeling filled her with a kind of sweetness. Of course, there were also moments when it left her uneasy. If she’d had a choice in the matter, she probably wouldn’t even know herself whether she wanted these days to pass quickly, or to go on forever.

Purely in terms of her situation, everything right now actually looked quite good — she had people looking after her, people who cared for her; she helped out at the clinic and had gotten to know all sorts of people, and the neighbors around them all thought well of her, ready to look out for her if anything came up. Compared to those who had been dragged here and lived every day in anxiety, her situation and her master’s were far better — she had almost been accepted as one of their own. And yet, though she always kept scrupulously to her place as a maid and didn’t concern herself with too much, Xiao Chan wasn’t the kind of girl who was so shallow as to see only the small comforts in front of her and ignore everything else once she felt happy.

Her master’s life was not an easy one.

This wasn’t the kind of burden that pressed down on him at every hour, not exhaustion that never let up or a permanent frown. Throughout their time on Fine Willow Street, her master had handled everything around him with apparent ease, almost turning his days into a picture of relaxed leisure — but only Xiao Chan could see what lay hidden beneath that surface: an enormous, constant effort and vigilance, as if he were picking his way, step by careful step, across a swamp.

She had seen something like this before, though never quite so clearly. Having been sent to a merchant family from a young age, she had seen a great many things. Such merchant households might look impressive from the outside, but what truly held them up were the few people within who genuinely understood hard work — men like Old Master Su, Su Boyong, or her young mistress. They didn’t accomplish things by issuing some brilliant, dazzling command out of nowhere that could turn the tide in an instant, snatching victory from the jaws of defeat. What truly supported all of it was day after day of running about, night after night of toil, handling one small matter after another, thinking things through, planning, going over the account books number by number.

Only people who put in that kind of effort could actually get things done.

And yet, this was still an age that revered scholars, and though she had once seen her mistress work this hard, what she’d truly admired in her heart had, of course, always been those celebrated men of letters who could survey the whole realm with a single glance — in storybooks and operas, they could turn back the tide with a single word, save the day with a single stratagem. Men like that were the object of so much envy and longing. When her master had first come into the household, she’d thought he wasn’t that kind of man; for a time afterward, she’d come to believe he actually was. What had started as respect and careful distance had, over time, turned into fondness and quiet affection — but it wasn’t until this stretch of time in Hangzhou, especially after the two of them had grown physically intimate, that she began to see more clearly what lay beneath it all, and to feel, all the more, the strength contained within it.

An ordinary person’s hard work could carve a path through wild, uncultivated hills — when a great boulder blocked the way, cleverness and strategy could help one find a way around it. But when there was no way forward, pursuers closing in from behind, and no path around the obstacle at all, a man of fierce temperament might, like old Master Qian, dash himself to death against that boulder. Only a certain rare kind of person could stand there quietly, focused, even smiling, and chip that boulder away inch by inch, wedge it apart, push it aside with everything they had, heedless of the cost. She didn’t quite know how to put it into words — perhaps that was simply what people meant, all this time, by the word “man.”

Now that word carried a deeper meaning for her, because her master was now her man too.

Ever since she’d been brought here to live, her master had never once shown irritation, never once let anxious agitation show. He calmly taught the children at the academy, kept up his morning and evening training every day, stayed on good terms with the people around him, sometimes sat beneath the eaves reading, chatted with her, comforted her, cracked jokes with an air of easy indifference — sometimes he even chopped firewood or swept the courtyard himself. But however natural all of it appeared, she was, after all, the one closest to him, and she could see clearly that behind this calm exterior, his hand was, in truth, still clenched tight.

During his daily training, he had, in fact, been increasing the load — outwardly it looked like nothing more than simple back-and-forth running within the confines of Fine Willow Street, but calculated by distance, it came to nearly twice what it had been back in Jiangning. Once the surveillance had loosened slightly, he’d already begun binding small sandbags to his wrists and ankles. She knew this was for physical training, but she didn’t understand what purpose it served. In the first few days, before the sandbags were properly adjusted, they’d even chafed his wrists and ankles until they bled, and yet he’d kept up that same easy, unconcerned front for everyone around him — only once he came back, washing himself in the bathroom, could she occasionally catch him performing some gentler, more measured movements, breathing hard, drenched in sweat from head to toe. At those times, the look on his face as he pushed himself through it truly resembled… a tiger’s. Of course, she wasn’t afraid of that particular look, because the moment he saw her, he would settle back into calm. She knew that even if her master really had been some tiger in human form, he would never devour her.

She had only glimpsed this side of him a handful of times, always when there was no one else around, always gone from his face in an instant. The two of them had never spoken seriously about any of this. She knew her master wouldn’t tell her much about it. But knowing what she knew was enough for her — she understood that all his dealings with this person and that, his teaching, his errands, were all simply meant to ease the circumstances around them a little; she also understood that if she could win over more people at the Overlord Blade Manor, it would make things easier for her master, whatever he might need to do. And so she had simply kept on doing exactly that.

At the clinic, she had always worked hard, kept up a cheerful, likeable manner — partly, of course, because that was simply her nature, but the feeling behind it now was different from before.

Sometimes she wondered if her master could see, in her eyes, exactly why she did what she did. Lately he had been spending time with that young lady of the Lou family; in the past, this would have upset Xiao Chan a great deal, made her deeply anxious — but now, she found she didn’t feel that way at all. Of course, she still voiced the occasional complaint, grumbling now and then that he shouldn’t associate with the Lou family’s daughter quite so closely — but in her heart, she understood perfectly well that her master would never fall for that young lady. Whatever happened, he kept a clear head about it.

Last night, seeing him wounded, she had burst into tears, and it had taken him a long time to calm her down. This morning, waking up, she’d hoped he might rest a little, but he’d only said the wound wasn’t serious — and then he’d pulled her back into the room… Her body already belonged to him; whatever he wanted of her, at any time, she felt happy to give. And yet this morning, lying bare before him, there had been a moment when she’d wanted to cry and beg him to stop — and yet in that very same moment, her heart had also felt nothing but overflowing happiness.

It was such an inexplicable feeling. Because she knew that even at a moment like that, all he’d really been thinking of was telling her it was alright, trying to comfort her.

Not long after leaving the room, he had opened the door again and gone out for his run. She sat there listening but didn’t go out to watch. Thinking all this over, the girl suddenly pressed the back of her hand to her mouth and let out a soft sob, tears spilling down her cheeks.

Aside from last night, it was only in moments like this, with no one else around, that she ever allowed herself to cry. Once she’d finished crying, she’d go back outside and carry on with her work, cheerful as ever.

Hangzhou was an ocean.

Light flickered as she sat with her legs pressed together before the stove; the flames licked toward her, and yet somehow the warmth only made the coldness in her thoughts more apparent. The real warmth didn’t come from the fire — it welled up from somewhere deep inside her, spreading outward through her whole body, and that warmth connected her, on one end, to herself, and on the other, to the scholar out running now through the morning fog, as though the two of them were points of light — no distance could block that glow. In truth, the only two people really riding out this storm together were the two of them alone.

After a moment, Xiao Chan wiped away her tears, gave the fan a little wave, and let a faint, sweet smile spread across her face before standing up to check on the water in the pot.

This day had only just begun.

…

Setting aside what was going through Xiao Chan’s mind, as far as Ning Yi himself was concerned, there wasn’t much worth dwelling on in what had happened. It all simply amounted to doing his best — his abilities only stretched so far. If there existed people who could glide through danger at every turn, effortless and at ease, or who could calculate every move flawlessly across an entire lifetime, cutting a swath through all before them — such people might exist, but he was no match for them.

Last night’s injuries weren’t serious, at least by a martial artist’s standards. Judged as an ordinary person might judge it, having various cuts and slashes across his body, even a gash on his head, was no small thing. He couldn’t push himself too hard physically — just a light run, combined with his internal energy to stimulate his body, hoping to speed his recovery beyond what was normal. This heavy fog didn’t look like it would lift before midday, but after running and walking a while, more people began to appear in his field of view. Along the way, he ran into Du Sha, foremost of the Overlord Blade Camp’s Eight Vajra Guardians — a nickname Ning Yi himself had coined, mostly out of an optimistic sense of humor. The man wasn’t one for much talk, and though he and Ning Yi were acquainted, their dealings had always been fairly formal — yet this time, Du Sha actually cupped his hands toward him first. “Mr. Ning, not resting today?”

“Oh, a little movement helps with recovery.”

Ning Yi answered so, and Du Sha, who had been exchanging pleasantries with someone beside him, made an introduction. “Brother Qi, this is… the one they call the Bloody-Handed Butcher, Master Ning Liheng. Liheng, this is…”

The other man’s identity wasn’t worth remembering, but what surprised Ning Yi a little was that Du Sha had actually introduced him by that “outlaw nickname” of his. Privately amused, he responded in kind, playing the part of a martial-world figure with cupped hands. As the two parties took their leave, Du Sha cupped his hands once more. “Mr. Ning, thank you for last night. We owe you a debt.”

Walking on a bit further, he ran into Liu Tiannan along with A’Chang and A’Ming. After exchanging greetings, he asked after Liu Dabiao, and Liu Tiannan nodded. “The Manor Lord is fine — she’s already woken up.” Waking up meant she was in no danger of dying, though clearly she still couldn’t leave her bed. “Once you’ve had breakfast, Mr. Ning, perhaps you could go see her.”

When he asked after Liu Jin, A’Chang’s expression turned noticeably grim. “Whether he’ll pull through is still uncertain, and even if he does recover, he’s lost most of his fighting ability… Of course, pulling through at all is what matters most right now…”

A’Ming, beside him, showed no particular expression at all. His real name was Zheng Qiming; where his partner A’Chang tended to be even-tempered in his dealings with others, he himself carried a distinctly fierce edge, more inclined to let his blade do the talking — though he was consistently good-natured with everyone within the manor. He’d sometimes go, po-faced, to buy children some candy, but he rarely smiled while doing it. Since Liu Jin had studied blade work under A’Chang, he had naturally received guidance from A’Ming as well at times. Right now, his expression seemed even more flat and cold than usual as he glanced first at Liu Tiannan, then at Ning Yi. “Whenever it’s time to go settle things with Li Tianyou, remember to bring me along. You don’t need to lift a hand for the killing — I can handle all of that fine on my own. Just call me along.”

This was directed at Ning Yi. He and A’Chang had spent enough time around Ning Yi by now to know he had some real ability. But once he’d finished speaking, Ning Yi glanced over at Liu Tiannan. “That’s not going to be so simple, is it…”

Liu Tiannan frowned as well. “When did anyone say anything about settling things with Li Tianyou…”

A’Ming frowned right back at him. “Manager, weren’t you just talking about discussing making trouble for the Li family with Liheng?”

Liu Tiannan handled a great deal within the Overlord Blade Camp, and men close to him like A’Ming casually addressed him simply as “Manager.” A’Chang and A’Ming had apparently been discussing exactly this with him moments earlier, and now Ning Yi found himself looking at Liu Tiannan too, having no idea what had actually been said. Whatever the Overlord Blade Camp’s usual willingness to hold its own, given that Li Tianrun was about to return, hearing that their side was truly ready to stand this firm caught him rather off guard, he had to admit.

Liu Tiannan looked between the two of them. “I only said we’d discuss cutting off a few of their business ties with him, give them a bit of a setback — just so Li Tianyou doesn’t get the idea that once his brother’s back, they can walk all over Hangzhou unchallenged… You two actually thought we meant to kill him?”

A’Ming gave a cold laugh. “That wouldn’t be terribly difficult either.”

“It’s not a question of difficulty.” Liu Tiannan raised his voice slightly. “Could you actually handle the fallout from something like that?!”

A’Ming drew a breath, then let it out again after a moment. “Understood.” He then clapped Ning Yi on the shoulder. “I hear you killed someone called Tang Kou last night? Not bad.”

A’Chang, hearing this, cracked a faint smile as well. “I heard about that too — the man was a lunatic, but his skills were real.”

Ning Yi laughed and demurred modestly. “Heh, he really was formidable. I got carried away in the fight and couldn’t pull back in time, so I killed him…”

As he said this, A’Chang’s expression had already turned thoughtful. “I do wonder who that fellow was, hiding in the room — cutting off Tang Kou’s head with one stroke wouldn’t be too difficult in itself, but managing to leave the room in such a short time without being seen — that kind of lightness skill is truly extraordinary…”

A’Ming nodded too. “I heard the same. The room was sealed tight, no hidden passages or secret doors, they say, and there were soldiers stationed outside. Getting out really shouldn’t have been easy. Though, the main defenses weren’t really focused there, so there’s probably still a way it could have been done…”

Ning Yi blinked, then rolled his eyes. “Hey, hey now — I’m still standing right here! It’s perfectly normal for a master swordsman to get carried away mid-fight! There was no light in the room, he had no idea of the layout, we were fighting for our lives — I’d been planning that stroke for a while and took his head off in one blow. That’s called bravery and quick thinking, not some secret passage nonsense… You two, if you’ve got the nerve, come have a go at me yourselves…”

A’Ming’s expression remained perfectly unmoved. “He won’t say.”

“Well, never mind then.” A’Chang laughed and patted Ning Yi on the shoulder. “Take care recovering. Thanks again for last night — speak up if there’s anything you need.”

The two of them took their leave, and as they walked off, their voices carried back. “One stroke to take off a head, and it flew clean off — that would take real ferocious swordsmanship…”

“If it’d been you or me in there, we’d have used the Overlord Blade — one strike to ‘sever the cloud-topped peak,’ the fiercest move there is… could it have been the Manor Lord herself…” As they spoke, a martial artist named Liu Yuanfang happened to walk over, and the two of them clapped him on the shoulder. “Yuanfang, what do you make of all this?”

“I heard about it this morning too — there’s definitely something odd going on here…” Liu Yuanfang glanced back at Ning Yi and let out a knowing chuckle. Though there was no ill will in it, he clearly didn’t believe for a second that Ning Yi had actually delivered that blow. The three of them continued talking as they walked off into the morning mist.

“Well, I’ll be damned…” Ning Yi watched them go for a moment, and once the three had disappeared, he turned to stare at Liu Tiannan. “You don’t actually think that too, do you?”

Liu Tiannan just smiled pleasantly. “I’ve still got some matters to attend to at the manor, so I’ll head off first. Liheng, give some thought to which of the manor’s businesses could be cut off from the Li family — no rush on it. If you’re free this morning, go see the Manor Lord, then head home and rest.”

With that, he cupped his hands and left. Ning Yi stood there a moment, let out a short laugh with a shrug, shook his head, and headed off toward home. The Overlord Blade Manor’s willingness to stir up friction with the Li family was, all things considered, good news — meddling in various businesses was very much his own strong suit. As long as Li Tianyou suffered a few minor setbacks, and with his elder brother now back, he’d surely be unable to swallow it quietly — more friction between the two sides would follow. Then he could draw Xiao Chan into the chaos, ask Physician Liu to help see her safely away, and getting her sent off wouldn’t be too much of a problem after that.

Of course, this had to be handled with the utmost care. If it was simply a matter of creating the right appearance — waiting for the two sides to clash, engineering things so that the Overlord Blade Camp itself began to feel Li Tianrun’s pressure, then taking Xiao Chan out under that pretext, roughing her up himself and claiming she’d been attacked — the Li family would have no way to defend themselves against the accusation, and it should work out well enough.

The thought of having to actually strike Xiao Chan made him grimace, and for a moment he felt caught somewhere between laughter and tears. Still, it was, for now, the least risky method available to him, so it would have to do.

Just as Ning Yi was refining his escape plan out on the street, in the main residence of the Overlord Blade Manor, the girl called Liu Xigua had already woken up. Beneath a white-fabric quilt embroidered with pale pink flowers, she lay weakly propped against her pillow, gazing blankly out at the morning fog through the window for a long while. It was rare to see her in such a fragile state, and few had ever truly seen her face like this — here, before the open window, her face, made all the paler by her weakness, seemed cloaked in a faint glow, revealing a startling, breathtaking beauty.

After a long while, she turned her head to look up at the ceiling above her, and gently… closed her eyes.

She had drifted quietly back to sleep.

At that very same moment, an army marching beneath a great banner emblazoned with the character “Li” was stirring up the fog on the northern edge of Hangzhou, hoofbeats thundering across fields and rivers, about to shatter the fragile calm the city had enjoyed these past weeks.

Among Fang La’s Four Heavenly Kings, the Grand General Who Pacifies the Realm, Li Tianrun — now just ten li from Hangzhou!