“…If you’re going to threaten someone, you should at least do it properly.”

“I’ll kill your entire family.”

“That’s rather inhumane. You should start with my wife, then I’ve got a son too…”

“Congratulations.”

“…His name’s Ning Xi. You could throw him to the ground right in front of me.”

“Would that actually work?”

“Not really much use…”

“I’ve come to ask for your help, not to have you do something you’ve already made up your mind about. What’s the point of threatening you… I know the outlaw world well enough, and I can fight too—I could help you take down whoever’s coming to give you trouble.”

“Who knows how many there are—you can’t kill them all off, this proposal doesn’t mean much.”

“I’m hoping you can find some way to save him. If there’s a way, you don’t even need to be involved yourself.”

“This! Is the real problem! There’s no way.”

The two men faced off for a moment in the room, then fell back into their usual back-and-forth banter. They knew each other well enough by now—given Ning Yi’s ruthless, ambitious nature, he wasn’t the type to bend to anyone’s threats, not even under circumstances as dire as those in Hangzhou; in the end, he’d always find a way to strike back given any opening. As for Chen Fan, having risen from the bottom rungs of society, having traveled far and seen much of the world, he wasn’t blind to how formidable Ning Yi could be—but by his own nature, he wasn’t the type to be intimidated by anything either.

The two of them understood each other well enough by now. The initial gravity had come simply because the matter was so serious, and this being a reunion after so long, some seriousness was only natural. After a brief standoff, each could read the other’s stance clearly enough. But when Chen Fan formally raised the matter once more, Ning Yi slammed both hands on the table and stood, stating once again, word by word, that there was nothing he could do—his tone this time far more serious than before.

Chen Fan frowned. “I know it’s difficult. Among everyone I know, you’re the only one with this kind of ability to maneuver things—which is exactly why, the moment I realized there was nothing more to be done down there, I came north immediately to find you, hoping you might think of some way, however slim the chance. Back in Hangzhou, didn’t you turn the impossible into the possible? You don’t have to get involved—I’m the one willing to risk my life for this.”

“Hangzhou was different—there was still time then, and some measure of luck involved too. As for this matter, hmph…” Ning Yi turned and walked toward the window. “When I learned your teacher had been captured, I’d already considered the position you and the others were in, and had already thought through the trouble involved. As far as I understand it, Fang Qifo now has both hands and feet broken, reduced almost to a cripple, and your uprising has already collapsed entirely. The wisest course of action would have been to simply cut him loose—otherwise, no matter how many of you throw yourselves into this, in the end there’ll be nothing to show for it.”

Having said this, he waved a hand. “Of course, I know you won’t listen to that reasoning. Since you’ve come to the capital, I’ll naturally see to your safety, and I can tell you just how serious this trouble is. You probably have no idea how big this problem really is.”

“I’m listening,” Chen Fan said. “Though I can’t imagine there’s anything bigger than a rebellion.”

“It’s a different nature of problem entirely,” Ning Yi said, shaking his head. “A rebellion involves tens or even hundreds of thousands of people rising up together—when the court moves to suppress it, the pressure gets spread thin across each individual. This time, do you even know who your opponents are?”

Chen Fan thought about it. “The Ministry of Justice? I know Tie Tianying and Zong Feixiao, those two chief constables, are quite formidable—Liu Dabiao’s death had something to do with them too, if I recall. Or are you referring to the Emperor?”

“It’s not just the Ministry of Justice, and it’s not the Emperor either. The one truly driving and pressing down on this matter from above is, first and foremost, Junior Preceptor Wang Fu—a name you should be quite familiar with.” Ning Yi went on, “Back when it came to the Flower and Rock Convoy, he was the one primarily in charge of it. When you all rose up and stormed into Hangzhou, you smashed up his family estate too, and your proclamation even cited him as the cause of the uprising. This man has skimmed off the land, served as chancellor, clung to Cai Jing’s coattails only to turn around and denounce him later—and even with all that, he’s managed to remain, to this day, one of the most powerful figures with real authority in the capital, wealthier than entire nations. Even Cai Jing gives him some measure of deference. If the matter had simply been suppressed by the Emperor himself, it wouldn’t be so bad—he’s got countless matters to attend to, and your teacher is, to him, just a minor loose end left over from putting down a rebellion. But with Wang Fu personally keeping an eye on this, if anything goes wrong, the Ministry of Justice will find themselves flayed alive by him.”

“Wang Fu is the one leading this, but he’s far from the only one involved. Your uprising turned the entire south upside down—how many wealthy households were there in Hangzhou? How many people did business with Hangzhou? Several major clans near the capital—the Cai, Han, Zuo, Qi, Wen families—all of them are owed an explanation over this affair. Fang La is dead, and the rest of you have either been killed or scattered—who’s left to be held accountable? No one, except your teacher.”

Ning Yi curled his fingers down one by one. “Wang Fu, the heads of these great clans, the merchants who do business with them—and only after that comes the Ministry of Justice’s constables… Frankly, your teacher means little to any of them at this point—the tide has long since turned against him. Whether he dies, or spends the rest of his crippled life fleeing from place to place bringing endless trouble down on the rest of you, matters little to them either way. But for these people, this whole drama matters enormously. Everyone involved is caught up in it, and none of them dare act with anything less than full sincerity. You think it’s just two chief constables from the Ministry of Justice handling this—that alone would already be trouble enough. In reality, the reinforcements available from the surrounding prefectures and counties are essentially limitless. If you have a hundred men, they’ll bring five hundred. If you have a thousand, they’ll bring five thousand. If you have ten thousand, they can field fifty thousand against you.”

“I’m not exaggerating to scare you. As far as I know, the orders have already been issued from above. Every one of these great clans keeps no small number of skilled outlaw fighters on retainer. It’s not just government reinforcements you’ll be facing—these hired fighters have already been mobilized and stationed nearby as well, ready not only to ensure your teacher reaches the capital safely, but also to kill off as many of you remaining rebels and stragglers as possible along the way, as a way of settling the score on everyone’s behalf.”

Ning Yi fell silent by the window. Chen Fan’s expression had already darkened. After the fall of Qingxi, they’d been fleeing and hiding, with little access to outside intelligence; he’d vaguely sensed the difficulty of this undertaking, but only now, coming to Ning Yi, did he truly grasp the full scope of the enemy they faced. What had been visible to them until now was merely a small fraction of the whole picture.

“This is all I know for now. Setting aside how to rescue him, even if you truly managed to pull it off, you’d be facing endless retaliation afterward, and within official circles, a great many people would end up implicated as well. When I say there’s nothing to be done, I’m not simply making excuses. Back in Hangzhou, I was captured by the rebel army through no fault of my own, and whatever I did in retaliation afterward, I can face myself with a clear conscience. But to you, I owe a life-debt—you may not say it, but I remember it in my heart all the same. If you truly want me to suggest some way forward… not for your sake, but for everyone else’s—the best solution would be to find someone skilled with a bow, get close to the prisoner cart, and make it look like your teacher was killed by a stray arrow. That would save many lives, preserve your teacher’s dignity, and deliver a blow to the court’s momentum all at once. Though I suspect even that would be nearly impossible to pull off… Think it over.”

As he spoke, Ning Yi sighed and walked toward the door. Chen Fan stood, poured himself a cup of wine and drank it down almost without thinking, then simply lifted the wine jug itself and took another swig straight from it. Though he said nothing, his eyes had turned cold and distant. Though Ning Yi’s words had struck him hard, it was clear he was already turning the matter over in his mind with remarkable composure. Having weathered enough in his life, whenever faced with a grave matter, he could always find calm first—conflicted feelings and anguish were things to deal with later.

Reaching the door, Ning Yi thought of something else. “Oh, right—there’s one more thing you should probably know, so you can respond appropriately if anything unexpected happens… Your coming to the capital isn’t known only to me—the Secret Investigation Bureau knows too, and our two sides likely don’t see eye to eye on this. If I don’t intervene, I can’t rule out the possibility that they might want you dead. And even if I do intervene, the other side may still have their own considerations to weigh. I’ll do my best to ensure your safety, but if something unexpected happens and they genuinely try to move around me to capture you, you’ll need to look out for yourself too. It’s not likely, but it’s best you’re aware of it.”

Chen Fan nodded to show he understood.

And even as the two of them had been talking, several streets away, Wenren Buer, leading the men of the Secret Investigation Bureau, had already entered the courtyard where Chen Fan had previously been staying. Sunlight spilled down, illuminating the wreckage scattered across the courtyard. Wenren Buer shook his head with a wry smile. A moment later, someone came to confirm the situation with him: “There are signs of a fight, but no one’s here.”

“Heh, he already knew—got here ahead of us.” Wenren Buer shook his head. “Which little bastard leaked the word this time…”

“What was that?” a subordinate beside him asked quietly, having caught his muttering.

“None of your business… alright, everyone! Let’s just treat this as though it never happened. Head back and deal with sorting out matters concerning Liu Zhen, the Twin Heroes of Heshuo, and the rest. I’ve still got something to attend to—going to catch Miss Li’s performance. If anyone needs to find me, I’ll be at Zhu Ji tonight—dismissed!”

He waved everyone off, then, looking at the traces of the earlier struggle still scattered about the courtyard, let out a sigh, uncertain whether this outcome was for the best.

He knew well enough the relationship between Chen Fan and Ning Yi—it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a bond forged through life-and-death circumstances between the two of them. Given what Ning Yi had gone through back in Hangzhou, if it came out that he’d befriended a rebel, Qin Siyuan and the others might well be understanding about it—but it would still mean trouble regardless. This time, word of Chen Fan’s arrival had reached the Secret Investigation Bureau first, and Wenren Buer had immediately moved to seal off the information, still deliberating over how best to handle the matter. But in the end, his own view was that keeping the two sides from making contact would be the best outcome for Ning Yi.

Only, ever since Ning Yi’s return from Liangshan, Qin Siyuan had assigned personnel specifically to protect him, while also intending to use the arrangement as a way to train up the Secret Investigation Bureau’s own members. Though the direct management of personnel fell to Wenren Buer himself, matters of strategy and overall direction were something Ning Yi had a hand in as well—his influence was considerable, and beyond that, he had a knack for clever management techniques that kept people watching and competing against each other without damaging the overall harmony among them. It wasn’t so surprising, then, that news might well flow through both channels simultaneously.

Well, no matter—since he’d already let the man slip away, there was no need for him to play the villain here. So Wenren Buer thought to himself as he headed out toward Zhu Ji.

…

“The performance tonight should be good—get some rest for now, I’ll take you to see it in a bit.”

Ning Yi pulled open the door, about to step outside, when Chen Fan, tilting his head slightly, spoke up from behind. “Oh, right, wait. About my teacher’s situation—I’ll think it over. There’s one more thing, though. Liu Xigua’s out now—when I was preparing to head to the capital, she came out along with Du Sha, Fang Shuchang, and the others to take part in the rescue attempt. I asked her if she’d come to the capital, and she said she wouldn’t. You should know about this—it’d probably be best if you wrote her a letter, told her to leave… She shouldn’t be getting mixed up in this.”

“…”

Ning Yi’s hands rested on the door panel. After a long moment, he tilted his head and said quietly, “What’s going on? Why did she come running off to get involved in this?”

“Only about a dozen or so came out—skilled fighters from Overlord Blade Manor, here to help. Uncle Tiannan should have stayed behind to manage things where they’re currently based. You know her personality well enough—for the sake of her people at the manor, she can sit by and let even someone as close to her as the Sage Duke go to his death, but when it comes to rescuing her teacher, she’ll charge in single-handedly, because to her, this is simply her own life to spend as she chooses… That’s just who she is…”

As Chen Fan spoke of Liu Xigua, it was, in the moment, little more than a passing remark. Persuading Liu Xigua to leave was probably something only Ning Yi could manage. He stood with his back to the door, drinking a sip of wine by the table, most of his thoughts still lingering on what Ning Yi had said about the situation. Behind him, Ning Yi had fallen into a long silence—and then, without quite realizing it, he found himself latching the door again and walking back over.

By the time Chen Fan turned to look, Ning Yi had already pulled up a chair, casually dusting off the top of it before setting it down behind him. Chen Fan looked at him with a puzzled expression. Ning Yi’s face carried a look of helplessness, though his words came at their usual unhurried pace.

“Brother Fan, you’ve got a point.”

“Uh…”

“…Let’s keep talking, shall we.”

Chen Fan, still holding that mouthful of wine, stood frozen for two seconds before doubling over—”Pfft… cough, cough… cough cough cough cough…”—the wine having gone down the wrong pipe. He coughed for a good while, his face twisted somewhere between laughter and tears.

“You bastard… cough cough… damn you, you absolute swine—”

Amid Chen Fan’s cursing, near the entrance to Zhu Ji’s Evening Glow establishment, Su Wenfang walked in flipping through a small notebook of records, glancing this way and that, when someone grabbed his arm. Looking closer, he saw it was Song Yongping.

“Wenfang, have you seen Second Brother-in-Law?”

“Oh, Yongping, you’re here? I’ve got something going on, just got here myself—have you seen Su Yanping? I’m looking for him.”

“No… wait, Wenfang, do you know something big is about to happen today? I’m looking for Second Brother-in-Law, help me find him, he absolutely needs to know about this…”

“What’s happened?” Su Wenfang, still holding onto his notebook, kept glancing around, searching for any sign of Su Yanping.

“Do you know, someone’s coming here to make trouble, saying they’re going to smash the whole shop up—and the people who came today are all rather refined-looking folks…”

“Who? Who’s coming to make trouble? We’ve already paid the protection fees, given word to everyone in the area…”

“It’s Young Master Gao—the son of the current Grand Marshal, Gao Qiu! The notorious playboy!” Song Yongping lowered his voice, worried the people around might overhear and run off.

Su Wenfang froze as well. “Him? That really is… this is quite troublesome then… oh wait, Shopkeeper Qi, have you seen Yanping? I need to find him, it’s about the stove… haven’t seen him? …Gao Muen’s actually coming to make trouble? Does Brother-in-law even know? Is he here?” He stopped a passing shopkeeper to ask about Su Yanping’s whereabouts, then turned his attention back to what Song Yongping was concerned about. By now Song Yongping’s face was etched with anxiety.

“I saw him earlier, but I don’t know where he went off to after that—the shopkeepers just told me everything’s already been arranged… I couldn’t very well press them on this. What in the world is Second Brother-in-Law even doing right now? He really needs to be made aware of this…”

Song Yongping rattled on and on, and Su Wenfang nodded along absentmindedly for a good while before saying, “No, I really need to find Yanping first, this stove of ours… oh, Yongping, just tell Second Brother-in-Law when you see him, alright? Gao Muen coming to make trouble is indeed a big deal, but I really, I really need to go now, there’s something I need to handle. About this stove, we’ve found a good solution—once it’s applied, the wire on top won’t prick your hands anymore—don’t forget to tell Brother-in-law about that Young Master Gao business when you find him, okay?”

“Uh… eh… huh?”

Song Yongping’s mouth twitched, blinking as he watched Su Wenfang dash off…

Had the man even heard a single word he’d said? The house was practically on fire, and here he was…