Early morning, at the small market in front of Dulong Ridge, on the open ground before the inn. Among the three Qi brothers, Qi Xinyi and Qi Xinhan were sparring bare-handed, testing their skills against each other, while Qi Xinyong supervised several of the accompanying guards doing horse-stance drills. The inn’s errand boy hurried a few chickens past to one side. Elsewhere, Ning Yi, dressed in his finery, murmured “one-two-three-four, two-two-three-four” to himself while doing jumping exercises. Feeling a certain sense of secondhand embarrassment at his display, everyone else kept their distance from him. On the road ahead, the estate’s instructor was leading the villagers who’d risen early past the area. Luan Tingyu, holding his octagonal bronze-cored staff, glanced this way briefly before turning his gaze elsewhere.

After finishing his eccentric round of calisthenics, Ning Yi sat at a table in front of the inn, drinking tea and thinking things over, dipping a finger in the tea to sketch on the table. When Wang Shanyue came out, he ran through a form of boxing first, and after settling his breath, came over and sat down.

Ning Yi sat there, leaning back in his chair, staring up in a daze, playing the part of the idle wealthy young master. Wang Shanyue poured himself a cup of tea and asked, “Young Master Lei, what are you thinking about?”

“Thinking about whether I should go out and about today…”

“Hm? Aren’t we supposed to wait here?”

“There’s a lot of messy business going on.” Ning Yi sighed, then sat up straight, tapping a finger on the simple map sketched in water droplets on the table. “But I think I’ll skip it after all… Zheng Biao.”

“Hm?”

Wang Shanyue frowned, glancing at Ning Yi, then at the crude sketch on the table, though there wasn’t much to make out from it. “That… the Demon King?”

“He probably wiped out another small stockade last night. Next he should be around Wuji Mountain. If the Wuru Battalion sent out two or three thousand men, they could box him in and finish him off—but for the sake of the bigger picture, let’s leave that be.”

“Why not?” Wang Shanyue spread his hands. “Before the big battle, letting the Wuru Battalion win a small victory has its uses too, doesn’t it? Especially since this Demon King is quite formidable—him leading men around slaughtering people will only inflate Liangshan’s reputation further.”

“They’re just small stockades, forty or fifty men, maybe up to a hundred at most, refusing to submit to Liangshan, and he’s picking them off one by one. So far he’s only hit four, probably not much to gain from them yet. Better to wait—let him kill a bit more, build up a bit more plunder, then have the Wuru Battalion move in and sweep him up. Otherwise, if the soldiers get no benefit from a victory, their enthusiasm won’t be very high. On top of that, it’ll also make Dulong Ridge and Wanjia Ridge understand just how ruthless Liangshan really is.” Ning Yi poured himself a cup of tea. “But is Zheng Biao really that skilled?”

“Quite formidable, I’d say.” Wang Shanyue nodded.

“I never really thought so before…”

“Young Master Lei knows him?”

“Oh, we’ve crossed paths a few times.” Ning Yi nodded. “Around the New Year in Hangzhou, I had a bit of a run-in with his master.”

Wang Shanyue looked at him, silent for a moment. “And then?”

“Then Zheng Biao’s master ended up getting killed by him.”

“Mm. Bao Daoyi.”

Qi Xinyi and Qi Xinhan, who’d been sparring nearby, came over and sat down, chiming in. Wang Shanyue said nothing, at a loss for words. Ning Yi raised his cup and drank, recalling the situation in Hangzhou. “All I know is he wanted to protest Old Bao’s injustice and nearly got himself killed for it. After that, whenever he saw me, he never had anything good to say—looked a bit like a crab, honestly. Later, when the city fell, he was captured and taken up to the capital for escort, and I believe he was rescued somewhere around Jiangning. I don’t have much of an impression of him either way.”

Back in Hangzhou, most of the people around him had been figures like Liu Xigua and Chen Fan—Chen Fan had assassinated Bao Daoyi in broad daylight, taking on dozens of men alone and nearly succeeding. Even Liu Tiannan, the steward of Overlord Blade Manor known as “Sleeve of Heaven and Earth,” was someone Ning Yi had always found quite impressive, likely a match for Bao Daoyi himself. As for this disciple of Bao Daoyi’s, no one had paid him much mind—perhaps his martial skill wasn’t far behind his master’s.

At the time, when he’d made a scene protesting Bao Daoyi’s injustice, his words had provoked Big Blade Liu into such fury that the girl had drawn her blade right there in the imperial hall—if not for Fang Baihua, Deng Yuanjue, and the others stepping in, this Zheng Biao would probably have been cut down on the spot. Ning Yi had heard about this.

There wasn’t much to be sentimental about regarding such a connection—even if they truly met again, there’d be no tearful reunion. Thinking back on it, Ning Yi grew curious about Wang Shanyue’s own skills. “Nothing else to do—Brother Wang, if you’ve got the time, why don’t we spar a bit, exchange a few moves?” Wang Shanyue hesitated slightly, then agreed.

The two of them then had a brief bout, and after trading a punch and a few kicks each, both came away somewhat disappointed.

Ning Yi’s fighting style relied mainly on various tricks, ruthlessness in life-or-death situations, and the trap-based techniques Lu Hongti had taught him—in a formal sparring match where blows were pulled, none of that could really show its worth. On the other side, though Wang Shanyue, leader of the Wolf Bandits, had a fearsome reputation in this region, his actual martial skill was only slightly above Ning Yi’s current level. After the match, each pressed a boiled egg against their bruises, and if anything, their impressions of each other’s abilities grew even more puzzling.

Still, though their exchanges these past few days had remained businesslike, without much personal rapport built up, certain things could now be spoken between them. Wang Shanyue’s expression showed confusion. “Young Master Lei’s kung fu… isn’t really that high, is it?”

“I started training rather late—didn’t grow up practicing from childhood. I make my living by my wits, really.”

“I’ve been physically weak since I was young. My family brought in a teacher to train me in martial arts, mainly hoping to strengthen my constitution a bit. But even once I really started training, I never got very good at it.” Wang Shanyue’s expression stayed flat, though clearly there was some frustration underneath.

Ning Yi said, “Then I find myself curious—if that’s the case, how did the Wolf Bandits build such a fearsome reputation around here?”

Wang Shanyue’s eyes turned cold, and he rose to leave. “Killing relies on ruthlessness. Once they eat people, everyone fears them.”

Ning Yi frowned. “You really eat people?” Before coming here, Qin Siyuan had mentioned that Wang Shanyue’s temperament ran to extremes, and having gotten to know him somewhat, Ning Yi could see that much was true—but the rumors about the Wolf Bandits eating people had always left him puzzled. Back in Hangzhou, Fang La’s ranks had no shortage of fierce, brutal men, with all sorts of terrible rumors circulating about them, but none who actually treated cannibalism as entertainment or a means of building reputation.

Hearing this, Wang Shanyue shot him a cold glance, then turned and walked away. “You’ll find out eventually.”

The private exchanges within this small group had no bearing on what was about to unfold. Amid the constant chirping of summer cicadas, traffic through the small market had noticeably thinned. Tension gripped the three estates of Dulong Ridge, but in an age like this, aside from those at the very top, ordinary people found it hard to anticipate what was actually coming. Drills continued through the day, and talk of a possible Liangshan attack spread, but most people still held onto a shred of hope that it was all just temporary jitters.

Among them, it wasn’t only the villagers—even young people like Hu Cheng and Hu Sanniang, though already making preparations, still hoped in their hearts that it wouldn’t come to that. Only Zhu Biao, the third young master of Zhu Family Manor, spent his days eagerly anticipating the coming battle, ready to give the Liangshan bandits a taste of their own medicine, frequently sparring with the estate’s most capable young fighters on the training ground, carrying an air of “my spear thirsts for battle.” With his formidable skill, he’d single-handedly stirred up the estate’s battle spirit, and the young men around him were eager and high-spirited.

Amid this atmosphere, young master Lei Feng, come to do business, drifted through occasionally as a minor presence largely disconnected from the three estates’ military preparations. To the estates, this Young Master Lei was here on family business, and while he lingered at Dulong Ridge, his other men were busy purchasing all sorts of goods in the surrounding area. These past two days, cart after cart had arrived, loaded with various goods bought nearby.

Though he claimed indifference to business matters, this Young Master Lei actually had quite a knack for it. As for his constant chatter about chivalry and righting wrongs, about how a real man ought to carry a blade—that was pure nonsense from someone with no sense of proportion, and when it came to military tactics and troop deployment, he was utterly clueless. Though for the first couple of days he’d spoken grandly about wanting to observe or even get involved if fighting broke out, once he saw the estate’s grim, tense atmosphere, he sometimes asked with visible unease, “It’s not really going to come to actual fighting, is it?” Others could easily see this was what he truly felt in his heart.

Each of the three estates had its own separate defense system, which he had no access to, but he could often be found happily watching the villagers drill from the sidelines. After being introduced by Zhu Chaofeng, this young master known in the martial world by the outlaw name “Thunderbolt Hand of Primal Chaos” even took the initiative to request a sparring match with Instructor Luan Tingyu.

After a few exchanges, he was knocked about thoroughly. Luan Tingyu was a decent man and pulled his strikes with great care, and a few rounds of pulled blows were enough to make clear the gap between them. After stubbornly challenging him several more times, this Lei Feng finally admitted, “Got an upset stomach today, might not have much time left before I have to go, not used to the local water and food, out of form. Instructor Luan’s skill really is impressive—let’s spar again another day.”

During this match, Zhu Long and Zhu Biao happened to pass by leading their horses, and among the onlookers was Hu Sanniang, who happened to be passing through as well, her gaze carrying a touch of disdain, but mostly boredom and helplessness. Because this Young Master Lei really was sharp when it came to business—having apparently offered useful suggestions to the estate’s small workshops these past few days—the steward in charge of trade thought highly of him, and Zhu Chaofeng valued this too, tolerating his somewhat clueless young-master airs. Even Zhu Hu, among the three brothers, treated him with notable courtesy, sometimes telling him stories about the estate’s past battles with other bandits.

“…The three estates each hold their own attitude, but for now, we’ve got a decent sense of things.” In the gaps others couldn’t reach, Ning Yi would share what he’d learned with Wang Shanyue and the Qi brothers—even though it was all framed as business talk, plenty could be seen clearly through it.

“Zhu Family Manor leads the way—that Master Zhu Chaofeng is the most assertive, and he’ll definitely fight. Keeping Dulong Ridge under his own control matters to him, and Zhu Family Manor’s forces are also the strongest. When discussing business with him, he likes hearing about the estate’s future prospects flourishing under his leadership. Old Man Hu is more conservative—he prefers a peaceful, comfortable life, watching his children and grandchildren multiply. Things going well would be nice, but it’s not urgent to him. Hu Family Manor’s ties with Zhu Family Manor are also the closest—if Zhu Family Manor fights, they’ll generally follow along. As for that Master Li…”

Ning Yi frowned. “‘Sky-Soaring Eagle’ Li Ying, and the estate’s steward, called ‘Ghost Face’ Du Xing—these two… heh, I hear they were quite formidable fighters in their youth. But this Li Ying is actually the one most enthusiastic about business and broader trends. He loves discussing business with me, and loves even more talking about developments in the capital and elsewhere—he’s got all sorts of opinions of his own, reading the situation, weighing his options… deep down, he’s the type to just go with the flow and protect himself. What kind of martial-world figure is that, honestly…”

Ning Yi knew that these two would eventually end up joining Liangshan, so naturally he couldn’t very well claim foreknowledge now. But even just from their personalities, some hints could already be gleaned.

“Du Xing seems quite loyal and righteous on the surface, but Li Family Manor actually has ties to Liangshan. I heard that last year there was some friction with Liangshan, and it was Sickly Guan索 Yang Xiong who, through his connection with Du Xing, got Li Family Manor to step in and smooth things over. That was right after the Zeng Family Market affair, and Zhu Family Manor backed off a step at the time. It’s not a big deal—Dulong Ridge and Liangshan aren’t far apart, both being underworld powers, so friction like this is normal, and this wasn’t the only instance. But if real fighting breaks out, Li Family Manor needs to be mentally prepared for it beforehand…”

Though Ning Yi had performed poorly these past few days in matters of martial skill and strategy, his ability to win over several of the estate leaders through nothing more than business talk, and from that deduce each person’s temperament and position, was genuinely impressive. Amid Dulong Ridge’s war preparations, Wang Shanyue watched as he swiftly dismantled whatever wariness Zhu Chaofeng and the others might have originally harbored.

He was, after all, an outsider, but over these past few days, several of the estate’s workshops had benefited from his advice; and beyond that, he was currently posing as a young master of the Lei family—if something happened to him here, while the Lei family certainly couldn’t destroy Liangshan, in the worst-case scenario, if Dulong Ridge truly couldn’t hold, his death here would at least serve as a kind of retaliation against Liangshan. With this reasoning in mind, Zhu Chaofeng and the others made no deliberate effort to send this Young Master Lei away, instead assigning someone to keep him company and letting him stay, free to spout his naive talk of warfare, so long as he didn’t touch on Dulong Ridge’s actual defensive arrangements.

In a sense, amid the heat and tension gripping Dulong Ridge, everyone was occupied with the most important task of preparation for battle. And based on the intelligence gathered from all sides, Liangshan too must surely be caught up in the same excitement and fervor. With seven or eight tens of thousands of people on both sides drawn into and enveloped by this larger struggle, this seemingly unremarkable scholar seemed to be hiding in the darkness that no one else had noticed, quietly waiting for what he was waiting for. Having learned that this man had once killed Bao Daoyi, Wang Shanyue occasionally found the scene chilling—watching him move with such calm confidence, could he really pull this off?

For Wang Shanyue, this was precisely what left him with a lingering hesitation. The more than thirty members of the Wolf Bandits had already brought cart after cart of goods to Dulong Ridge. If the anticipated fighting began, entering the fray alongside this scholar named Ning Yi meant staking their lives on it, with no room left for regret. He’d spent years building up the Wolf Bandits, and what he now carried on his shoulders was no longer just his own life. With his master’s letter and orders behind him, he could only hope the day of battle would come a little later, giving him more time to think this whole situation through clearly.

But Liangshan did not give everyone much more time. Though many had sensed the signs from the start, when it finally arrived, it still struck a sudden chill into the hearts of those involved.

In the summer of the tenth year of Jinghan’s reign, on the twenty-fifth of the fifth month, as evening fell and the clouds burned crimson, a rider on a white horse in silver armor, carrying a steel spear and longbow on his back, appeared silhouetted against the setting sun. Two hundred paces out, he nocked an arrow, drew his bow, and, unhurried, loosed three shots toward the small market outside Dulong Ridge. The first two arrows knocked the hats off the estate guards standing watch outside the market; the third, carrying a sealed letter of challenge, struck with a thud into the plaque bearing the characters “Dulong Ridge.”

The rider wheeled his horse around and rode off at an unhurried pace. Ning Yi, who happened to be standing outside at the time, watched the whole scene unfold with great interest, clicked his tongue, and clapped his hands before turning back into the inn. Though he’d never seen the man before, he could roughly guess his identity.

Little Li Guang — Hua Rong!

Before night had even fully fallen, word that Liangshan intended to attack Dulong Ridge had already spread, and chaos began to stir through the small market…