Faint, flickering points of light drifted through the blood-soaked valley. All anyone present could make out was a black silhouette on the mountain slope — she simply appeared, moved forward, and with a force that swept all before it, cut down Qiu Mengtang, the speed and ruthlessness of it leaving no room for anyone to react. Only the corpse, suddenly a head shorter mid-battle, was shocking to behold; and when the fountain of blood rose up and that advancing shadow stepped past Qiu Mengtang, the bandits, already on the verge of collapse after their crushing defeat, found not even the will to charge forward — only the instinct to stumble back, stunned by the death of Little Sparrowhawk.
That shadow did not stop. Only after killing Qiu Mengtang and his three subordinates did her pace slow slightly, before she continued forward. Yu Yulin gripped his steel spear tightly, but the black shape was not coming for him. Her stride seemed slow yet was in truth swift — in the blink of an eye she had already crossed several zhang, then moved faster still, treading over the valley’s grass and corpses, closing the distance as though the ground itself were folding beneath her feet. Only as she neared the edge of the valley did one bandit — perhaps someone who had once received Qiu Mengtang’s favor — suddenly rush forward, blade raised: “I’ll avenge my chief—”
The figure met him in an instant; there was a wet, heavy sound, and the charging bandit’s body flew backward, his knife-wielding hands and his head sailing up into the night sky. The shadow’s speed never slowed, and like some ill-omened black bird, she vanished into the distant dark.
Long after the figure had disappeared, silence still gripped the valley — until, at last, someone spoke in a low voice.
“The… the Blood Bodhisattva…”
Nearby, a bandit, terrified past the point of standing, collapsed limply onto the grass.
Over the past year or two, the most notorious name to come out of Lüliang Mountain was the Blood Bodhisattva, mistress of Green Wood Stronghold. Though not many had ever actually crossed paths with her, it was plain that whoever had just appeared and done this could be no one else. Striking like this made clear she’d been deeply displeased with Little Sparrowhawk, and that was why she’d killed. Little Sparrowhawk was dead, true, but the valley still held several hundred of his men — and no one could say whether, under these circumstances, Green Wood Stronghold might yet launch some larger act of retaliation. After all, army against army, king against king — her killing Qiu Mengtang with her own hands was already, unmistakably, a signal.
Yu Yulin lowered his steel spear, and only then did he notice his own hand trembling faintly.
To appear like this, to instantly cut down the strongest man in everyone’s eyes, to press the whole valley into breathless silence, and then to walk away without hurry — however loosely the martial world tended to throw around the title of “grandmaster,” anyone capable of this was unquestionably deserving of it.
Among martial men, he himself counted as no weakling, and having led troops in battle, he’d seen his share of killing and had witnessed plenty in his time. And yet, in the span of one night, first encountering the Demon of the Heart who had brought down Liangshan, and now coming face to face with a master like the Blood Bodhisattva — even he found his heart pounding, a lingering unease settling in. When had Lüliang Mountain become such a deadly place?
…
“…She’s establishing her authority!”
The valley stirred for a while, then settled somewhat, the bandits gathering up Little Sparrowhawk’s body, lost and fearful. By the campfire, Lou Shuwan’s face was cold as she spoke, decisive and firm.
“It was Qiu Mengtang who made the move — the very man Green Wood Stronghold was meant to be escorting. She was probably nearby, learned of it, and struck for that reason! Just look at the direction she came from and left in — she never touched General Yu. This time she came specifically to kill Qiu Mengtang. There’s likely something else going on.”
Tian Shi, who had been standing off to the side taking in the night scene, turned at these words. “It could also be that she didn’t dare to keep fighting. With this many men in the valley, even a grandmaster like Zhou Tong wouldn’t come out ahead in a real brawl. She killed and left — the intimidation was enough either way. Maybe next, Green Wood Stronghold’s people will move to swallow up Little Sparrowhawk’s territory. We’re already tangled up in this now — what makes you so sure we haven’t already torn things apart with them?”
“Because there’s simply no need to,” Lou Shuwan said. “Authority itself is a fragile thing, especially for a woman — and Little Sparrowhawk never showed her much respect to begin with. I said before not to stir up unnecessary trouble, but… well, regardless, Little Sparrowhawk is already dead, and her authority is restored. Why would she go out of her way to start a war with the Tiger King over this? We came here to do business, not to fight!”
Yu Yulin tossed another stick of firewood into the fire. “But that Demon of the Heart, Ning Yi, came here using her name — the two of them may well have some private connection. Either way, we may already have offended this Blood Bodhisattva.”
“As for private connections, it depends what kind,” Lou Shuwan said, her expression still cold. “A nodding acquaintance is a private connection too. Green Wood Stronghold doesn’t throw its connections around carelessly, but… with a name like his, that so-called Demon of the Heart, if he wanted some passing connection to smooth things over, that wouldn’t be hard at all. They’re both top figures of the greenwood world — if they’d crossed paths before, that’s hardly remarkable. But business is business. She’s the head of a stronghold; if she opens her doors to trade, then there’s room to talk. More to the point — we’ve only just entered these mountains. Are we really going to turn back over something like this?”
“Miss Lou makes a fair point. Still, the Third Prince’s concerns aren’t unreasonable either. Better to be cautious, to see every possibility clearly before acting.”
Lou Shuwan didn’t push back on that. “Then the most likely explanation is that she came to establish her authority — and now that Qiu Mengtang is dead, she’s achieved her purpose. What we should do next is go back immediately and take over Qiu Mengtang’s stronghold.”
She paused. “Qiu Mengtang is dead, and his men are bound to fall into disorder. We came here under the Tiger King’s banner — taking over will be easy, and it’ll stabilize things quickly. Once we have men in hand, we’ll have leverage, and we can still go on to Green Wood Stronghold as planned. I know you’re both great heroes and it’s hard to swallow your pride, so I’ll handle the apologizing and the negotiating myself. If it comes to dying for it, I’ll be the first to go. What do you say?”
Lou Shuwan spoke crisply, without hesitation. Tian Shi said, “It’s not that, exactly…” Earlier, the group had stumbled precisely because they’d been trying to impress Lou Shuwan, and it could hardly have felt good. But Lou Shuwan had always had a sharp mind, and now, seeing that she’d regained her composure, Tian Shi and Yu Yulin could tell there was real sense in what she was saying, and neither argued further.
“As for that Demon of the Heart, Ning Yi — what exactly is his background? Miss Lou, whatever’s between the two of you, can it be resolved? Would you be willing to explain? If we’re heading to Green Wood Stronghold, we may well end up dealing with him too…”
Lou Shuwan’s face flushed, then paled, and after a moment of silence, she finally spoke. “I… I don’t know exactly what forces he drew on to bring down Liangshan. I came to know him in Hangzhou — he’s the husband my sister took in, a matrilocal son-in-law. The two of them came to Hangzhou to travel… I knew he had some skill… Then came the earthquake, and Fang La seized the chance to take Hangzhou. My family was trapped in the city, and we had no choice but to throw in our lot with the Sacred Duke. The next time I saw him, he was a prisoner Fang La’s men had captured — I heard that on the road, during some escape attempt, he’d cost the Sacred Duke’s men dearly…”
The woman chose her words carefully, speaking slowly but trying to be as clear as she could about her impressions of Ning Yi. Even this much was, for her, a difficult effort. Tian Shi and Yu Yulin listened, their faces shifting in the firelight. Having just been humbled earlier, they now listened to Lou Shuwan’s account with a good deal of skepticism, watching the woman’s rather ashen face and thinking to themselves: this is the Demon of the Heart? You’re having us on…
And then again: a great figure of the martial world might well appear mild and scholarly on the surface — how would a mere woman, with her limited experience, ever see through that? This Demon of the Heart clearly had ties to the court; he must have crossed the Sacred Duke back in Hangzhou and been captured by Fang La or Fang Qifo, who then tried to win him over. If that were so, had the Sacred Duke or Fang Qifo actually crossed blades with this Demon of the Heart back in Hangzhou? A clash between grandmasters of that caliber would surely have been earth-shaking — what a pity they’d never had the fortune to witness it, and after the Sacred Duke’s uprising failed, not even a rumor of it had ever spread…
Both men found themselves regretting the loss of such a legendary clash to history.
In truth, there were fairly clear rumors circulating in the martial world about why the Demon of the Heart had destroyed Liangshan — Ning Yi himself had, at the time, arranged to have it spread that the reason was that the Liangshan bandits had killed half his wife’s family. But rumors like this, however intact they might have started out, tended to warp considerably as they spread through the martial world.
Tian Hu’s side had little contact with the Liangshan side, and in hearing these bits of hearsay, mostly cared little for accuracy. There were plenty of versions floating around in which the Demon of the Heart single-handedly stormed Liangshan’s Hall of Righteousness and fought Song Jiang, Lu Junyi, and the others in some earth-shaking clash. Some even embellished it further: “Let me tell you, I know this Song Jiang personally — plenty of loyalty in him, sure, but his martial skill was never top-tier. The ones who really fought the Demon of the Heart were masters like Lu Junyi, Guan Sheng, Qin Ming, Lin Chong. Liangshan’s brotherhood was all about the code of the martial world — in the Hall of Righteousness, they wouldn’t gang up on one man — but that Demon of the Heart was genuinely that strong, taking them on one after another…”
No one really knew what grievance lay between the two of them, but on this particular account, only half of what the woman said could really be trusted…
So thought Tian Shi and Yu Yulin, listening to Lou Shuwan’s words.
…
“Achoo, ah— choo—”
In the night wind, Ning Yi rubbed his nose. “Tch, must be the smoke, really unpleasant… is everyone behind caught up?”
Walking on ahead, Zhu Biao nodded. “Back with the group already.”
“We’re in unfamiliar territory, after all — no one should go off alone again… Anyway, about the elm cannon — I still think its actual power isn’t all that impressive. Though the powder we packed does lean toward producing light, which is plenty intimidating at night. Add the noise, and any group of horses is bound to bolt — just now two of our own horses ran off scared. Heh, that’s fine too.” Ning Yi said in a low voice. “I mean, in the dead of night, a noise that loud — who could stand it, ha…”
The fighting in that mountain hollow hadn’t lasted long after Yu Yulin’s men were routed. Ning Yi’s group had never meant to kill for its own sake, but even after the fighting stopped, they lingered on the spot for a good while before finally setting out again.
The main business after the battle was tending to the wounded and gathering up the bodies of their own fallen. Though their side was made up entirely of skilled fighters, a few had still died or gone missing in the clash. Ning Yi, for all that he was a ruthless capitalist bloodsucker at heart, still felt a certain reluctance when it came to the deaths of his own people, and even in victory there was little real joy in it.
Of course, ever since the year before, the Ning household had suffered no shortage of assassination attempts, and casualties among the guards were nothing new. While doing his best to see to the bodies they could recover, he also sent a group to search the area for horses. In Qiu Mengtang and Yu Yulin’s charge, the mounted riders in front had numbered seventy or eighty; once the cannon went off, every horse had bolted. The Wu Dynasty produced few horses, and most of what it had were poor stock at best — recovering most of the scattered horses this time, given how flush with cash the Bamboo Trading House was, amounted to a considerable windfall.
The landmines had now been proven in actual combat, and the elm cannon had grown more stable — though even with few shots fired, one had still exploded on discharge. Ning Yi had his people record the data as carefully as they could: from what angle it had been fired, how it had been fired, its actual lethality, whether it was mostly the light and noise doing the frightening or whether it had genuinely killed a meaningful number of people, and so on.
After a brief rest, the group broke camp and set out, planning to make their next stop in a valley up ahead. Zhao Si, having by now seen firsthand just how formidable Ning Yi was, and having some vague notion of his nickname, “the Demon of the Heart” — a name he’d heard was said to leave a trail of countless dead — no longer dared put on his old air of being able to “handle things.”
The terrain in the valley ahead did indeed make for a fine natural campsite. When Ning Yi’s group arrived, they found there was even a small hut partway up the slope — worn and old, but more or less intact.
“…This is the road we usually take back to the stronghold. Up ahead there’s a hunting cabin — sometimes hunters stay there, and when we pass through, we sometimes stay too. It’s simple, but at least it keeps out the wind and rain. Young Master Ning could rest there tonight — better than out in the open.”
“Then my thanks, Uncle Zhao Four.”
“Ah, Young Master Ning, just call me Zhao Si. ‘Uncle’ is more than I deserve, more than I deserve…”
Talking like this, the group made their way toward the front of the hut — only to find a light already lit inside, casting a silhouette against the worn window.
“Someone’s already here, then…”
The light shifted for a moment, then settled on a table by the window. Zhu Biao, Zhao Si, and the others moved forward silently, shielding Ning Yi. Inside, the shadowed figure seemed to lower the hood of a cloak; a moment later, the old wooden door creaked and slowly swung open before them.
A figure appeared before them all and stepped out through the doorway. Zhao Si moved a step closer, then suddenly dropped to his knees. “Ch-chief… this is…”
He turned his head, meaning to warn the others of something, but Ning Yi had already walked past him, a soft sigh escaping his lips. “Ah…”
In the dim yellow light of night, Ning Yi walked up before her, stopping just a step away, separated by a single stair. Zhao Si heard him say, “Blood Bodhisattva” — his tone carrying, of all things, a note of teasing.
“Ning the Butcher.”
The woman who had made Zhao Si drop to his knees without thinking answered him so, standing beneath the eaves in the darkness. Since Zhao Si had only joined after Green Wood Stronghold’s expansion, he had seen the “Chief” in battle before, seen her in fury — but only now, looking up, did he see for the first time that this woman, whose martial skill was terrifying enough to inspire dread, wore on her face a smile of such clear, unguarded joy…
In that moment, all the warm light around them seemed to gather on the two figures gazing at each other.