Late in the eighth month of the twelfth year of Jinghan, the capital, thronged with martial men, finished holding its martial examinations. Originally, to accompany the Pacification Edict issued earlier that year, this round of the martial examinations had been staged with tremendous fanfare. But after word of Wanyan Aguda’s death arrived in late seventh month, the mood in the capital suddenly shifted. Several disturbances of public order were brought into the open, the Kaifeng prefecture made arrests, and among the scholar-officials, talk arose that those who practiced martial arts should not be indulged in their misdeeds.

These matters seemed to have little connection to the martial examination itself, and everything proceeded as usual. In time, a man affiliated with the Imperial Boxing Hall, named Wei Sannian, took first place in the examination. After riding on horseback through the streets in triumph, as he awaited his official appointment, the clamor outside had already begun to quiet down…

“…fizzled out in the end, hasn’t it.”

The carriage rolled forward, drawing near to Bian Liang. Ning Yi looked over the intelligence report that had arrived and sighed faintly. After the martial examination, the assignments for the various successful candidates had not yet been issued, but the general arrangements — the posts to be granted and so on — already had a first draft at the Chancellor’s residence.

Most of the participants and successful candidates in this round of martial examinations came from the north, many of them beneficiaries of the Pacification Edict. To consolidate the effect of that edict — to make clear that the favor flowed down from the sovereign, so that these men would not end up loyal to some particular faction or individual but rather to the emperor and the state — this open and aboveboard selection had been held.

Originally, after this selection, most of the successful candidates would have been given significant positions of trust. Under the name of “disciples of the Son of Heaven,” they would be granted real posts and real authority, even, in certain places and certain matters in the north, power that outranked the civil officials — all in hopes that they would play a great role in what was to come. But according to this report, all of these arrangements had now been substantially revised.

Politics itself was an exceedingly delicate matter. Ministers stood opposed to one another, competing for men; between the emperor and his ministers, too, the relationship was often an adversarial one. Making this body of military officers loyal to the sovereign rather than to particular men required a great many careful measures. Otherwise, if you expended great effort to elevate someone, only to have it benefit some single great power faction, that would run entirely against the principle of checks and balances.

Before Wanyan Aguda’s death, the emperor too had held this ambition and intent. But once news of the death arrived, he plainly took a step back. Because the strength of the civil officials began to push back — the original tacit understanding had broken down. As officials on every side tried to push back against military authority, they were also, at the same time, already courting this new crop of successful martial candidates. To carry the original plan forward as intended would now cost a great deal of effort and require managing a good deal of factional strife, and had become far too troublesome. The emperor, too, saw where the problem lay, and simply had this round of martial selection broken up and scattered in its aftermath, reverting to the old pace as before. Fearing trouble, he took one step back, and everything below him changed entirely.

“They haven’t even started the assignments, and the civil faction has already made their move — really, they’ll do anything… The Grand Instructor of the Cai household secretly joined hands with Wei Sannian at Fan Tower, and I hear Wei Sannian came out the worse for it. Tsk, tsk, Cai Jing…”

Looking over the report, Ning Yi shook his head and smiled. Beside him, Zhu Biao pursed his lips.

“I’ve met that Grand Instructor from Cai Jing’s household too. Against me he’d be a notch better at best — if we really fought, it wouldn’t take long before it was a draw. This martial top-scholar business isn’t so hard to win after all. If I’d been in the capital, looks like it would have been me.”

Ning Yi laughed and flipped the report over. “How naive. Did you know Master Zhou Tong once sat the martial examinations too, and in the end only became a martial jinshi. He commanded the Imperial Boxing Hall, rose all the way to Chief Instructor, famous throughout the realm — and in the end, even getting a single real post in the army was difficult for him…”

Zhu Biao rubbed the back of his neck. “But don’t I… have backing now too.”

“True enough.” Ning Yi set down the report and thought it over. “If you really sat the exam, you could very well take first place. At the least, the Chancellor’s residence would certainly back you. And once you took it, there would be a real post to fill as well.”

“Ha, forget it. I’ve seen enough of these things by now — I know exactly how the army works. Go there and I’d just be pushed around by those meddling civil officials — better to stay free and easy as I am.” Zhu Biao added, “But Brother Ning, weren’t you originally the one promoting the spirit of chivalry through the martial world? This martial examination mattered a great deal to that — now that it’s been pushed back, doesn’t that waste all your earlier effort?”

“The martial examination itself was never the important thing,” Ning Yi said, shaking his head. “Whether it went well or not, I never had much expectation of it. Promoting the spirit of chivalry is what matters — we rode this wind up, and although we’ve taken a bit of a hit now, it doesn’t look too serious.”

He handed a page of the report to Zhu Biao. “Everyone’s been putting in effort to carve up the spoils of this martial examination. Grand Preceptor Cai is old now, and wants status for the civil scholars; everyone else is mostly thinking of their own families, some courting favor, some suppressing others. Chancellor Li and Chancellor Qin genuinely want a real line of defense raised in the north — this is one of Tan Zhen’s political achievements, and he hopes the military officers can rise up somewhat too. In the end, those people had no choice but to grant a bit of face…”

He smiled. “Suppressing the military men, but not stamping out those who practice martial arts entirely — with Chancellor Qin around, they’ll actually keep a hands-off attitude toward my promotion at Bamboo House. This too is a matter of sparing Chancellor Qin’s face. The martial examination may have turned into a mess, but we can say we benefited from the spillover light of it. Still…”

As he spoke these words, glancing at one page of the report, his brow suddenly furrowed. He studied it a moment, drew a breath. “Qin Hui…” Zhu Biao glanced over curiously. Ning Yi handed him the page, then turned to look at another aide in the carriage, one who handled information for the Secret Investigation Bureau.

“What is the latest on Luo Jinyan’s full situation?”

The aide cupped his hands. “We are certain — he died that same night.”

The carriage rolled on, jolting slightly the whole while. Ning Yi was silent for a moment, fingers tapping the seat beneath him, then said, “And his wife and child? What of them?”

“No confirmed information yet. We believe they may also be dead.”

“Don’t believe — confirm it,” Ning Yi said. “Begin looking into this at once. If they are still alive, try to draft a rescue plan, but it must be handled carefully — Qin Hui must not learn that it was us… Handle this with care. Go at once.”

“Yes.”

The aide cupped his hands, lifted the curtain, and got down from the moving carriage. He split off from the returning convoy with a horse and rode off into the distance.

Zhu Biao finished reading the report about Luo Jinyan and slapped a hand down on the seat. “That old dog.” Then, frowning, he looked to Ning Yi. “But, Brother Ning, isn’t it a bit early for us to move against Qin Hui now? What if we spook him prematurely — wouldn’t that cost more than it’s worth? His reputation as an official is excellent, and now that Luo Jinyan is dead, the evidence is gone too. Even if his wife and child are found, they probably won’t be enough leverage against a man like this anymore.”

Ning Yi looked at him and smiled. Zhu Biao was in truth a straightforward man; seeing injustice, for him personally it would simply be indignation. But having spent so long in the Secret Investigation Bureau, he had also come to understand the larger picture. His present worry was, in truth, less for himself and more for Ning Yi and the whole Bureau.

“I am not Luo Jinyan. As for Censor Qin, it’s certainly best not to clash with him directly — but if it truly came to a fight, it wouldn’t necessarily be so terrifying either. If we really can save Luo Jinyan’s wife and child, it may not be of much use for now, but it could serve as a card to play later, a use we may find down the road. It could set people’s minds at ease and might bring some benefit too — why not?” Ning Yi sat there, watching the autumn wind occasionally lift the carriage curtain, the road beyond swaying in view. “But for you and me — having seen so much of this sort of thing, I think what matters most is… to cherish those in front of us. Once we’re back in the capital, I’ll give you a few days off. Go spend more time with that young lady from the Wang family. No need to think too much.”

“Understood!” Zhu Biao pumped a fist cheerfully.

Ning Yi looked out through the other side of the carriage curtain. Some things he had said; some, in the end, he had not. A man like Qin Hui, who spoke of being “left with no choice,” was in fact extremely decisive when it came to actually acting.

The most frightening people in this world are usually not the ones who simply do evil outright — like the Yang brothers, Yang Yi and Yang Heng, who had kidnapped him years ago in a boat-house in Jiangning. However ruthless their words, in their hearts they still believed they were doing wrong, only that they felt they could not survive without being ruthless. This awareness of “doing wrong” is shaped by a society’s common moral values, and men of this sort usually do not damage the world as badly.

It is only those with philosophical cultivation, with their own frameworks of thought, who believe everything they do is justified, who act with utterly no hesitation — because they twist the very foundation of the logical chain that judges morality and value. The man Qin Hui had planted to watch him reported that Luo Jinyan’s final accusation had been that word “left with no choice.” It would seem that in this world, everyone feels everything they do is unavoidable — yet once a person truly, sincerely accepts this notion of being “left with no choice,” when they go on to do evil, they act far more resolutely, with far greater initiative, than they ever would in doing good.

Because they have already found ample justification, the thing can only be done — they may feel a shallow twinge of guilt, but they will usually no longer hesitate.

…That wife and child of Luo Jinyan’s — they might already be dead.

In his heart, Ning Yi in fact held this very suspicion. Only because it remained a mere suspicion did he not say it aloud.

The wind blew across the post road nearing deep autumn, and outside the carriage window, yellow leaves and yellow flowers of autumn danced past. Outside the city of Bian Liang, the number of travelers gradually grew. Partway along the road, more people came to join them. Then several carts in the middle of the convoy broke off and headed toward the countryside near the capital.

The road wound and twisted, joining and parting from smaller paths, with the occasional stream, and in the distance an old waterwheel could be seen. The autumn equinox had passed; the rice in the fields had already been harvested, leaving behind yellow stubble. When several of the carriages, seeing the village ahead in the distance, began to slow, Ning Yi got down, yellow leaves drifting down from the trees along the road.

At a fork in the road not far off, people were approaching from that direction — several women in front, one of them armed, a female warrior, with a few attendants following behind.

But the one leading them was a tall, beautiful woman, her features gentle and refined, elegant and delicate, dressed in a set of white autumn clothes, her embroidered shoes white as well. She had the very air of a lady from a great household. The autumn wind blew a strand of hair across her face, sunlight falling softly upon her.

She paused there a moment, then began running toward him.

In the past, she would not have run like that.

Nie Yunzhu — this woman he had come to know and understand in Jiangning, who had been through so much together with him — by now was, in some subtle way, no longer quite the same as when he had first met her.

She ran to a stop nearby, her chest rising and falling, her face lifted slightly, her clear, joyful eyes fixed on Ning Yi. He had already come forward, and he simply lifted her up into his arms.

She was, for a moment, entirely flustered.

Around them, by the carriages and along the road, the many attendants watched this scene between husband and wife with smiles — their employer’s astonishing behavior was something they had long since grown used to, and it did not surprise them in the least. Still, some of them smiled and turned discreetly away…

Not long after, at Fan Tower in Bian Liang, a maidservant walked into a room, looking at the young lady inside, who sat at leisure arranging flowers, and said, “Miss, I hear Master Ning has returned.”

“Mm.” Shishi nodded absently and went on with the arrangement in her hands. Before long, a clean, elegant piece of work had taken shape on the table.

She braced both hands on the floor and leaned back, gazing idly at her own creation. Feeling the sunlight streaming in from the courtyard outside the door, she tilted her head back and narrowed her eyes slightly, basking in the warmth, like a cat sunning itself in autumn.

When this summer had passed, she had formally declined Zhou Bangyan’s proposal of marriage. Since then, though others had continued to raise similar requests, making her the hot topic of talk of “buying out her contract” and “marrying,” in a certain sense, the best possibility had perhaps already passed her by.

What would the future hold? She still had no answer.

But perhaps someone would have something to say about it.

She wanted to go and talk to him.

Sitting with her eyes narrowed like this for a while, a loud thump suddenly sounded in the room. When the maid came to look, her mistress was sitting up off the floor, clutching the back of her head. The autumn sunlight cast a sharp line of brightness across the room, and her mistress sat right within that line, beautiful and endearing, one eye narrowed as she pursed her lips at the maid.

Truly like a cat that could bewitch the whole world…

Even the maid who had served by her side for so long could not help but freeze for a moment, then covered her mouth and began to laugh…