The dirt road wound through the trees and turned in toward the estate; before it stood a row of carriages large and small, tied up and waiting. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, carrying with it, from somewhere far off, the drone of summer cicadas. The lewd, gloating laughter mixed together with that cicada song.

Ning Yi gazed for a good while at the vulgar, leering man now clutching his arm, doubled over with laughter he could barely catch his breath from, before a faint smile finally crossed his own face. Beside him, Lu Qian rested a hand on his blade, moving in quietly along with the Grand Marshal’s attendants. Gao Muen was still laughing. “What are you going to do about it now…”

The whole group watched Ning Yi’s reaction. After a moment, Ning Yi finally moved — he raised a hand, and, to everyone’s surprise, ended up simply clasping the back of Young Master Gao’s hand, nodding with a smile.

“Well said. We meet again — quite the fated connection between us, wouldn’t you say, brother.”

There was even a note of wistful sentiment in his voice, unhurried. Young Master Gao laughed as he looked at his own hand, now caught in Ning Yi’s grip, struggling a few times before finally pulling free; he stepped back, straightening up with a laugh, one hand gathering the hem of his robe, the other pointing at Ning Yi.

“Don’t try that with me, I’m telling you! I, your philandering menace, will not be made a fool of by you again! You’ve got some nerve, I’ll grant you that! But I’ll say this plainly today — if you dare make a fool of me, and I find out about it, I will not swallow this insult today!”

Gao Muen said this with bright, giddy excitement, his body bouncing up and down without him quite realizing it. Having had his hand pulled free, Ning Yi let his palm hang regretfully in the air for a moment, the smile on his face unchanged. “Understood. You won’t be made a fool of by me again.” Nodding in agreement, he then turned that same warm smile toward Lu Qian beside them. “Though — has Lieutenant Lu already looked into who I am?”

Lu Qian, one hand resting on his blade, his face betraying nothing, simply narrowed his eyes and looked at Ning Yi. “A mere scholar, and a married-in son-in-law at that — what status could he possibly have.”

The whole situation had come about so abruptly that this exchange between the two of them might well have been the crux of it all. Lu Qian and Young Master Gao had come over this time originally because they’d heard there was some excitement to watch; as for Ning Yi’s identity, in truth, they knew little about it. But once Young Master Gao realized he’d been made a fool of the last time, Lu Qian naturally had to stand firmly on his side, first crushing this reckless scholar under sheer force of presence before anything else. What he’d just said was, in fact, the plain truth — and beside him, Gao Muen was still bouncing with excitement as he talked.

“I can’t swallow this insult, you owe me an explanation! Let me tell you, my father is Gao Qiu, and here in Bianliang, of course everyone’s afraid of me! The fact that you made a fool of me last time proves you’re afraid of me too, doesn’t it — well, doesn’t it—”

“Young Master, you see through everything.” Ning Yi looked at him with a smile. “I’ve come to see you in a new light.”

“You’re afraid of me, which proves you can’t beat me! And now I’ve got you caught red-handed! I know your name now, you’re not getting away! I’m going to get my revenge on you… heh heh, but I’ve got no interest in men, you know. There are only three things I’m interested in — beautiful women! Beautiful women — and beautiful women!” He gave a giddy, lecherous laugh. “Those women I saw last time, those beauties — they were yours, weren’t they? Unless you’re willing to bring them to meet me, introduce me to them…”

This philandering menace had been running roughshod through Bianliang for years now; scenes like this were nothing new to him. Even when he was in the wrong, he never let things go — now that he had the upper hand, he was certainly not about to let it slide. The household guards beside him had already started laughing; sunlight poured down, the shade of the trees swaying, and they, too, waited to see how the scholar in front of them would react, what he might say. Before Young Master Gao had even finished his laugh, the scholar shook his head, as though talking to himself: “None of you have any idea who I really am…” — as though to say, you have no idea who I am, and yet here you are, provoking me.

But words like that could hardly make anyone back down. Gao Muen laughed. “I don’t care who you are! I already told you, my father is Gao Qiu! You dare, right here in Bianliang—”

He hadn’t even finished the sentence when, right before his eyes, Ning Yi nodded, lifting his gaze. “Understood.” And with that, he stepped forward. One of the household guards moved to block his path — “What do you think you’re doing!” — reaching out to stop him, much as he had a moment ago, though this approach felt somewhat different from when Gao Muen had first approached him. And then came the moment that left everyone utterly unable to react — the kind of thing that, at least in Bianliang, hadn’t happened in a very long time.

A poetry gathering, high noon, sunlight, cicadas singing — in the clearing among the trees outside the estate, the scholar who had been blocked in his path took a single step forward. As the guard closed in, the scholar’s hand suddenly shot out, grabbed the man’s clothing, and in the next instant yanked his body forward — a sudden thud, blood and teeth flying up into the sunlight, everything spinning in the light. The broad-bladed saber rang out with a sharp clang as it flew from its sheath, its edge slashing downward like a bolt of white silk. Lu Qian’s gaze turned sharp, and he, too, closed the distance in an instant!

In that same instant, Ning Yi, gripping the front of the guard’s clothing, slammed his right palm hard into the man’s jaw, then, using the momentum, snatched up the man’s own blade at his waist and swung it straight toward Lu Qian. Lu Qian raised his blade and struck upward from below in a single motion, the light off his fine sword flashing like a sheet of clear water — with a sharp crack, the severed blade went flying up into the sky. In the next instant, something burst open in the sunlight — a packet of lime powder, sent flying from Ning Yi’s sleeve by the momentum of his swing, was slashed open by Lu Qian’s blade and came billowing straight into his face!

Young Master Gao stood there, his sentence still unfinished, watching as the man’s gaze suddenly turned dark and cold as he lifted his head — utterly unlike the joking, playful figure from moments before. The guard’s blood, his teeth, his body flew up into the air and crashed to the ground; on the other side, Lu Qian, once he’d made contact, whirled his fine blade into a blur of light and leapt backward out of the fray, the air thick with the smell of lime powder. The sunlight was blinding, and before his eyes, the scholar’s figure suddenly loomed larger, closing in, arms spreading wide, seeming for one moment to blot out the very light of the sky — and then, with a solid thud, he found himself firmly, completely embraced!

Lieutenant Lu retreated several steps before finally coming to a stop, and as he swept aside the hand blocking his view, he saw the scholar and Young Master Gao locked together in an embrace, Young Master Gao not daring to move at all. The guards around them had drawn their blades as well but dared not press forward. One man embracing another might, under ordinary circumstances, look faintly absurd or even repulsive — but here and now, however one looked at it, it seemed uncanny, carrying with it a danger that defied easy description.

Lieutenant Lu was by no means a weak man — someone capable of fighting Lin Chong to a standstill ranked among the very finest fighters in the martial world, and having risen up from the lowest rungs, his instincts were sharp; when it came to scheming and underhanded tactics, he was hardly inferior to anyone either. And yet, even so, in that very first clash, he had ultimately failed to guard against that single packet of lime powder.

Partly it was the setting — this scholar, attending a poetry gathering, carrying himself with an air of refined, righteous elegance, had given Lu Qian no reason at all to suspect he possessed real martial skill, let alone that he might suddenly strike out like this. Never mind that when a scholar did strike, the very first thing he threw was a packet of lime powder — this was, moreover, a trick honed to a fine, practiced edge, and Lu Qian could scarcely imagine that anyone in the martial world would go to such trouble specifically to master something like this. His own blade was sharp enough, and though only a small amount of lime had gotten into his eyes, by the time he’d recovered his wits, the look in the eyes of the scholar now holding Gao Muen had already turned… deep and unreadable, impossible to fathom.

Ning Yi held the philandering menace before him in a tight embrace, tight enough to make the man’s bones creak faintly. Gao Muen didn’t dare move at all, utterly unable to comprehend just what kind of man this was. He felt the scholar’s head moving slowly beside his own, at one point his face even pressing against his hair, sending gooseflesh crawling up his skin. After a moment, the scholar let out a slow breath. “None of you have any idea who I really am…”

His voice came low and unhurried, almost a murmur against his ear. Gao Muen felt one of the hands behind him slide up to cup the back of his neck, drawing the two of them even closer together. “None of you know — so why would you go and do something like this? I know a phrase — burying your own father, they call it. Shall I give it to you as a gift?”

Ning Yi’s gaze remained fixed coldly on the guards and Lu Qian ahead as he murmured softly into Young Master Gao’s ear. Gao Muen, for a moment, had no response at all — but the manic, hysterical edge that had been in his voice moments before had already vanished. “You, you, you — what are you trying to do…”

“Nothing at all.” Ning Yi said this quietly, one hand patting his back. “I happen to be quite fond of men like you — so innocent, so adorable, and such a disaster for your own father. But… about wanting me to introduce those women to you — how about we let that go, hm?”

His head rested against Gao Muen’s hair, the hand gripping his neck now sliding around to press against his cheek, drawing their faces even closer together. He paused, then spoke softly, gently. “I’m quite fond of them myself, you see. Look — you don’t even know who I really am. What if I turned out to be some kind of lunatic? If you did something that forced me to go chasing you down through the streets to kill you, and it turned into you trying to kill me and me trying to kill you — that wouldn’t do at all, would it, right? Never mind getting hurt yourself — even hurting some stray cat or dog wouldn’t be good, and you’ve still got so many women left to enjoy…”

“Oh, of course, I’m certainly no lunatic. Your esteemed father is Gao Qiu — I’ve always held him in the highest regard. Like I said, meeting like this is fate, you know — you’re so adorable, I’m quite fond of you. Let’s not fight, all right?”

He loosened his hold on Gao Muen slightly, cupping the man’s head in both hands, gazing straight into his eyes, foreheads pressed together, a smile spreading across his face. “Hm?”

Gao Muen looked back at him. “…Fine.”

“Wonderful. From the very first moment I laid eyes on you, I knew we’d be friends…” Ning Yi held his head and planted a kiss on top of it. “Good friends.”

Releasing Gao Muen, Ning Yi’s smile faded from his face, and he turned to Lu Qian. “All a misunderstanding, Lieutenant Lu — how did it come to this?”

Gao Muen, in that brief moment, hastily pushed himself away. The guard whose teeth had been knocked loose had already gotten back to his feet, only to be seized once more by Ning Yi and flung forward toward the front, leaving everyone present momentarily unsure whether to make a move or not. Young Master Gao wiped at his forehead, seeming to want to say something or start shouting and stamping his feet, but being the excitable, high-strung sort himself, faced now with someone who seemed even more unhinged than he was, he found himself at a loss for how to even begin shouting, and simply cursed under his breath: “You, you lunatic — Lu Qian!”

He’d perhaps meant to order Lu Qian to move in and kill the man, but glancing sideways at Lu Qian, covered head to toe in lime powder, and looking again at this scholar in front of him — whose true background remained a mystery and who now seemed genuinely terrifying — he finally said, “We’re, we’re leaving first… damn it, lunatic… just you wait…”

Had they all rushed him at once, Lu Qian certainly believed they could have killed this scholar. But running roughshod over people was one thing; killing this particular scholar, who had just made such a spectacle of himself, right outside this estate, was another matter entirely — one that even Young Master Gao might not be able to shoulder the consequences of. However lofty and powerful Gao Qiu’s position as Grand Marshal might be, he remained, in the end, merely a favored minister of the emperor, and could not necessarily count on the support of the court’s civil and military officials. And besides, after that one moment of miscalculation just now, Lu Qian knew all too well that the Gao Muen he was supposed to be protecting had already, in effect, died once already — if this scholar had some equally troublesome trick up his sleeve, and things came down to an all-out fight to the death, and he really did end up killing Young Master Gao, there was no way Lu Qian himself could bear the consequences of that either.

In truth, the whole affair, from the very instant Ning Yi had suddenly made his move, had completely defied their expectations. Realizing they’d been made fools of, they’d come out to seize the man, confident of the upper hand, certain that whatever happened, he’d never dare offend the Grand Marshal’s household. But with that sudden, abrupt shift in his attitude, they no longer had any idea just what it was they were truly up against.

Ordinarily, a person’s attitude toward others tends to follow some discernible pattern. His bright, cheerful demeanor the last time had been meant to avoid offending them, to let himself get away without trouble. He was afraid of the Grand Marshal’s household — and this time, now that he’d been found out, they’d expected at most more of the same joking deflection, perhaps the same tired jokes trotted out again in an attempt to smooth things over. But no one could have anticipated that his attitude and resolve would shift so completely, so quickly — within the span of a few sentences, he had simply flipped the whole table over.

The two sides faced off for a moment; Gao Muen called out his final words, and Ning Yi stood there, watching them coldly, his fingers idly rubbing against his own palm. Only once he’d watched the whole group finally retreat into the distance did his gaze once again settle into that dark, brooding look.

Not far off, two more pairs of eyes had also been watching this whole scene unfold, watching Gao Muen and his men retreat into the distance. Closer by, hidden behind a carriage, was Zhou Pei, who had concealed herself and watched the entire confrontation from start to finish, never once leaping out to intervene. And farther off still, in the shadows near the estate gate, a man named Cheng Zhouhai stood watching, his gaze moving from Zhou Pei’s expression throughout the whole encounter to Ning Yi on the other side — as though he’d stumbled upon something rather interesting, a faint, knowing smile playing on his lips. Before long, as that smile turned toward the retreating figures of Gao Muen and his men, it hardened into an expression of pure, icy cold.

This second clash between them had come and gone in the blink of an eye.