Flames burned in the small stove, and as the water came to a boil, a faint scent of tea drifted up along with the rising steam. Perhaps because the girl brewing the tea wasn’t much for refinement, the tea leaves had simply been tossed straight into the pot to boil, with none of the usual ceremony.

The two of them had been together so long now that questions of equal or unequal standing between them had long since stopped being anything simple. As Liu Xigua crouched there brewing the tea, Ning Yi kept his head down, continuing to write, and every so often the girl would glance back at him. Once it was ready, she poured the tea into a cup and handed it to him; Ning Yi set it aside, letting the steam rise off it.

“I still say — after this campaign, whatever happens with the wider situation, we can’t go back to Qingxi.” Once Xigua had sat back down in her chair and drifted into thought, Ning Yi spoke up, somewhat abruptly. The girl turned back, seeing Ning Yi dipping his writing brush into the inkstone, not looking her way at all.

“Mm.” Xigua looked at him.

“A whole group of people, dragging families along, so many mouths to feed — we’ve only got eight hundred men left on our side now. We don’t have the resources to lose again. I’ve no particular bond with your Uncle Fang, so I can put these things plainly — mainly because anyone can see there’s no point going back. They don’t dare say it, but I can say it to you.” As he spoke, he lowered his head and kept writing.

Xigua tilted her head back, looking up at the top of the tent. “Why didn’t you say this a few days ago?”

“The city had only just fallen — you were still thinking it over yourself. Now that you’ve mostly worked it through, I can say it too.”

“…Chen Fan and the others mean to go back.”

“Mainly to rescue people and talk them out of it. If everyone insists on staying to fight to the death at Qingxi, there’s only going to be one outcome. I’ve already spoken with Chen Fan about this these past few days — even if we do go back to Qingxi, when it comes to getting people out, we only need to speak to a few select individuals, otherwise someone will end up killing them for it… men like Fang Qifo, even Lü Jiang, might well be able to see the situation clearly enough, but your Uncle Fang and the others — I doubt it…”

Xigua fell silent for a moment. “Qingxi still has plenty of troops. Holding out might not be as hopeless as you think.”

“The first stage, sure, we could hold it.” Ning Yi kept writing as he spoke. “Hangzhou has already fallen. Tong Guan doesn’t have time to spare — either way, you won’t get another real chance. At most half a month from now, he’ll have to march his army back north. What comes after that will be ordinary government troops converging on Qingxi from every direction — that might drag things out longer, but the outcome won’t change. Back then, you managed to seize Hangzhou riding on a single wave of momentum, exploiting their fear of dying — but that’s the only kind of strength refugee armies like this really have. Once it’s been broken at its peak, there’s no second act. Plenty of the people here still have families, children. Don’t throw these last eight hundred men into the fire.”

He picked up his teacup as he spoke, blew on it, took a sip, and set it back down. Xigua watched him for a while. “Do you have any idea how words like these would sound to anyone else?”

“They just don’t want to face reality, that’s all. Some of them don’t dare say it, but the ones who need to see it, will see it.” Ning Yi looked up at her and smiled, then shook his head and went back to his writing. “Like we talked about before — pick one of the three locations yourself. While everyone’s attention is still fixed on Fang La, it’s the right time to put some real distance behind us. Life in the Miao borderlands or western Hunan is livable enough either way, and you’re already close to that region — get into the mountains first, worry about everything else after.”

His writing brush paused for a moment. “Once… everyone calms down, anyone who took part in the Eternal Joy uprising is going to be hunted down. This whole region that’s suffered under the bandit troubles will get swept clean, bit by bit, and our Overlord Blade Battalion will certainly be on that list. So hiding well is essential. Once you’re in the mountains, I don’t know how you all used to manage before, but there are some matters of hygiene you’ll need to pay attention to — drink water that’s been boiled whenever possible, avoid cold food, and there’s a lot more besides, all tied to the early planning of a settlement. I’ve been thinking it over lately, and I’ve written it all down — some points more important, some less. Later…” Ning Yi tapped the notebook he’d been writing in, “we can go through it together.”

“You…” Hearing this, Xigua felt something wasn’t right, and her brow furrowed. Ning Yi had already raised a hand. “Wait, wait, wait, wait — I’ve got a lot more to say, don’t interrupt yet, I’m afraid I’ll forget it later.”

Inside the tent, Xigua had already risen to her feet. Ning Yi took a sip of tea, still bent over his writing. His words came unhurried, without any single obvious focus, but the underlying thread kept circling back to how the Overlord Blade Battalion’s internal structure ought to change, how to absorb and accommodate a growing number of new followers. In truth, this was a variant of the corporate culture of later ages. The Overlord Blade Battalion’s core had always been a tight-knit group held together by loyalty and personal bonds — inherently somewhat closed off. If it were to expand, that family-like, brotherly atmosphere would inevitably be diluted. What Ning Yi was proposing was mainly about opening up more entry points at the lower levels — how to set checks, evaluations, even performance metrics — so that once the rules were properly in place, Liu Xigua would no longer have to exhaust herself the way she had before.

The two of them had often discussed things like this before — the shift from personal loyalty toward formal systems of law and order — and Ning Yi had been working at it steadily for half a year now. But he hadn’t been impatient about it; he hadn’t even tried to tamper with the Overlord Blade Battalion’s core in any presumptuous way. A stronghold capable of holding together this well through personal bonds alone was, in truth, better than one built purely on cold rule of law. Some of the seemingly useless regulations and provisions he’d suggested had, up to now, only been shown to Liu Xigua privately, never even circulated — all of it meant for some future day when the Overlord Blade Battalion might want to expand.

It was just that, in all their previous conversations on this subject, it had always been a back-and-forth exchange — a word from him, a word from her, sometimes a joke thrown in. But today, the girl found there was no room for her to interject at all. Ning Yi simply talked on, loosely and by free association, and even mentioned, in passing, certain underlying purposes he’d never spelled out before.

Finally, in this atmosphere, Xigua walked over, looked at him, and slowly raised a hand, finally pressing it down onto the paper he was writing on. “You… saying all this…”

She couldn’t quite organize her words, because Ning Yi had looked up and smiled straight into her eyes. After a moment’s silence, he thought it over, finally set down his brush, patted the back of the girl’s hand, and stood up. “Actually, I’m almost finished with what needed writing anyway.” He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and came around from behind the table.

“You… you…” Xigua’s eyes stayed fixed on him for a long while, and as her eyes began to grow moist, she finally let out a long breath. “Heh. You know. You know… what I came here to ask you tonight.” She exhaled and stepped back two paces. “You’re a spy for the imperial court!?”

As she said this, the girl’s eyes glistened, her voice already sharp with accusation. Ning Yi glanced at her, gave a somewhat complicated smile, and walked toward the tent entrance. The girl swept her arm out violently, knocking the inkstone and brush off the table. “You think you can just leave!? If you’re a man, say it clearly, right here!”

“I can’t leave anyway. Come outside.”

Ning Yi lifted the tent flap and stepped out; a moment later, Xigua followed, nearly numb with shock. The camp of over five thousand men stretched out, points of firelight scattered along the valley ahead. It happened to be the Qingming Festival, and some of the men were still holding rites for their dead relatives. Ning Yi took it all in; not far off in the darkness, Fang Shuchang’s silhouette was faintly visible, along with several others hidden further in the shadows. Xigua walked several steps forward, and even before the crowd, she still managed to hold onto some remnant of her cold, poised composure. “You can say it now. Ning Liheng!”

Ning Yi held his teacup, looking down at the tea inside, and said nothing.

“You’ve been with us this whole time! Has my Overlord Blade Battalion ever mistreated you!?”

“Have I, Liu Qianqian, ever failed to open my heart to you!?”

“Everything you told me before — was it all lies!?”

The girl seemed to have been cut to the heart by his manner; her words came sharp and cold, one after another, but Ning Yi, surveying the state of the camp, didn’t answer — and when he finally spoke, it was on an entirely different subject. “Five thousand-odd people, once properly cleaned up and moved into the mountains, should be enough of a foundation to start with. Whatever else happens, securing your own survival has to come first. Maybe you really will accomplish something great one day. What you want to do — maybe, one day, it really will succeed. But what comes next will be the hardest stretch of all for you…”

As he said this, he took another sip of tea. In the darkness, not far behind the girl, Liu Tiannan had already brought out the long case holding the overlord blade; Qian Luoning’s figure and Zheng Qiming’s voice were beginning to appear as well. Ning Yi glanced around and gave a small smile. “I’ve still got a few more things to say — no need to rush this.”

Everyone stood there, brows furrowed, expressions varied. Fang Shuchang spoke up. “I believe you have your reasons. If there’s some way you can prove your innocence, or explain that you had no choice, say it now.”

Ning Yi simply raised his cup slightly toward him and paused. “The twelve hundred men following behind us aren’t Tong Guan’s imperial guard — they’re the elite of Kang Fangting’s Sudden Strike Battalion. In half an hour, they’ll launch a surprise strike from the southeast. Uncle Nan, you’d best prepare now. I don’t know much about warfare, but here’s a suggestion: have Master Du and Qiming lead a squad of a hundred and fifty men east for ten li — you’ll be able to see their camp. Though every man carries his own field rations, there’s still a small unit at the rear of their camp specifically tasked with the supplies. Have a hundred-odd men harass them with fire arrows, a feigned attack — they’ll assume you’re after their grain stores, and their formation will pull back to defend it. Xigua, take five hundred men and ambush their vanguard two li out at Jingfeng Ridge — after that, they won’t keep chasing you.”

At this, everyone froze in shock, even Liu Xigua herself looking uncertain. After a moment, she simply turned her head slightly and said, with visible difficulty, “Uncle Nan, go confirm it…” Liu Tiannan nodded and went to check. As everyone had begun assuming Ning Yi must have his reasons, he spoke again.

“We’re all working toward different things. I’ve been here a long time, and there are things you don’t know. My connection to the imperial court isn’t much — there’s just an old man named Qin Siyuan who recently became Right Chancellor. Back in Jiangning, I played a few games of chess with him. There are things that need doing now, and I mean to do them. Once I leave here, I’ll head to the capital, and do what I can to contribute in some small way…” He smiled and cupped his hands in salute. “Bloodhanded Butcher, Ning Liheng — different paths, perhaps, but it’s been an honor knowing all of you…”

“You think you can just leave…”

“…There’s gunpowder near you.”

Two fire arrows came whistling in from the distance!

Everyone in the Overlord Blade Battalion knew of Ning Yi’s exploits using gunpowder back at Taiping Lane. In his early days with the Battalion, people had naturally kept their guard up, unwilling to let him near that sort of thing too freely — but over time, as trust had grown, that vigilance had gradually relaxed. Ning Yi had made some preparations before leaving the camp; whether there was gunpowder here or not, no one could say for certain, but the area, though relatively open, did have a few small carts of supplies scattered about. The fire arrows struck two wooden barrels, and Fang Shuchang and the others scrambled at once to get clear.

The moment Ning Yi had stepped out of the tent, he’d naturally already put a few meters of distance between himself and Liu Xigua. Sensing that he had nowhere to run, and her own mind still in turmoil, she hadn’t paid it too much attention. One of the barrels now sat right beside the tent; if she meant to chase Ning Yi down, moving forward would bring her closer to that barrel. Ning Yi was already backing away, but when his gaze met the girl’s, something in her eyes made him freeze for an instant.

Ever since her first three accusing questions, and Ning Yi’s near-admission outside the tent, something in her seemed to have drained away — even the order she’d given Liu Tiannan to go verify things had come out with visible difficulty. Whatever Ning Yi had said after that — words that, to anyone else’s ears, would have carried one meaning — had, in her heart, transformed into something else entirely, impossible to name. As Ning Yi looked at her now, it was hard to describe just what it was he felt looking at the girl before him — slender, standing there with every ounce of strength she could summon, her head tilted slightly, her features fine and pale, carrying a strange, crystalline quality, as though she might turn transparent at any moment. Perhaps it was the reflection of the Milky Way overhead caught in her tear-glazed eyes — for an instant, there was a beauty there sharp enough to sear itself into memory.

Ning Yi saw her thin, pale lips move slightly. She was speaking — as though to herself — but in that instant, Ning Yi heard the words clearly, like a single drop of water falling onto a still, silent surface.

“…I won’t let you leave.”

Ning Yi raised his firearm instantly! The girl dropped low, and her long legs unleashed their strength like an explosion, rippling waves across the grass, countless droplets of water flung up, tracing streaks through the air…

“Aah—!”

Those eyes seemed intent on staring straight through to his very soul, closing the distance between them. In his heart, Ning Yi felt something like a sigh well up, and with great difficulty, he wrenched the barrel of the gun aside.

“Bang—”

The gunshot, the flash of fire, the shockwave pushing outward, the stray shot ripping loose from the barrel… and a blade, surging in with fury—