The fierce fighting on and around the city walls raged on for a full day, finally coming to a halt at noon on the second day—the fifteenth of the ninth month.

When Xue Changgong withdrew from the wall, he had once again been wounded—struck by an arrow, along with a number of minor grazes from other arrows. For some reason, he felt that this assault hadn’t been quite as fierce as the last, yet it had still placed tremendous pressure on the defenders within the city.

As his subordinates began tallying the wounded, a banner appeared far off to the northwest of Bianliang.

A roar went up along the wall, and everyone scrambled once more toward their defensive positions. Xue Changgong squinted toward it; not far off, facing the main gate, his superior officer was peering through a long tube-shaped device into the distance. Before long, an excited voice rang out—

…

Li Zhuo had left Bianliang on the afternoon of the fourteenth of the ninth month, through the western gate, which had seen no fighting. Trembling with fear, he arrived at the Jurchen camp; after being announced, while the fighting at the walls still raged on, Wanyan Zongwang and his assembled generals received him in an atmosphere of stern severity within the command tent.

Unlike the impassioned, death-defying resolve he had shown in the throne hall, Li Zhuo barely even attempted to negotiate terms with Zongwang in the camp—he simply agreed to every single condition put before him, seemingly finding it rather tedious that the Jurchen generals had even bothered trying to intimidate him with grim faces. Both sides signed the treaty, listing out in full every demand Zongwang had previously put forward.

That night, Li Zhuo was kept in the Jurchen camp, but the Jurchens had no intention of abandoning the siege. On one hand, they sent men to deliver the treaty back to Bianliang; on the other, they continued their assault on the walls.

That same night, near dawn, Zhou Zhe affixed his seal to the treaty and sent it out of the city. The following day, close to noon, Zongwang chose an auspicious hour and had Li Zhuo formally deliver the treaty back.

They weren’t worried about the Wu Dynasty reneging on the deal—though, as it happened, when they released Li Zhuo, a real variable did indeed emerge…

…

“General Zhong is here! The Western Army is here! The Western Army, a million strong…”

“Old General Zhong! Junior Guardian Zhong has come leading troops to the emperor’s aid, already arrived beneath Bianliang’s walls! The Jin army is retreating at the mere news—”

Within half a day, all manner of reports flooded the capital. Bianliang erupted with excitement; even Shishi emerged from the Fan Tower to join the crowds watching the Zhong family’s army enter the city.

Zhou Zhe himself was startled by this sudden, joyful news. By this time Li Zhuo had already returned with the treaty. After some hesitation, the emperor rode his dragon carriage out of the palace to greet the arriving troops at the city gate. Seeing the excited jubilation sweeping through the city, he summoned Cai Jing as well.

“We were careless in Our deliberations over the peace treaty, and now find Ourself full of regret. Looking at it now, it seems We had thought this matter through wrongly. Such a humiliating treaty—after We are gone, what face would We have to meet Our ancestors? Grand Preceptor, tell me—if We wished to renounce this treaty, would there still be time?”

Cai Jing lowered his eyes and thought for a moment. “That Your Majesty has come to see this clearly, and pulled back from the brink in time, is truly cause for—ah.” He stopped himself mid-sentence, suddenly catching himself, and dropped instantly to his knees. “This old servant spoke rashly, in a moment of excitement, and uttered words of treasonous implication—I beg Your Majesty to punish me!”

Zhou Zhe waved his hand magnanimously. “No matter, no matter. We were the one whose thinking went astray, who considered things wrongly. That the Grand Preceptor could say such a thing shows that you never agreed with Us from the very start—that you sat by and watched Us stumble into error, and that is the true offense! Grand Preceptor, is there truly such a rift between you and Us? Does the Grand Preceptor believe We have become a ruler who can no longer accept loyal counsel?!”

His words grew sharper still, and Cai Jing grew all the more terrified and deferential. Zhou Zhe then sighed. “No matter, no matter—in this matter, both the Grand Preceptor and We were at fault. Better late than never to see things clearly now. For the sake of the realm and its people, even if We must bear the blame for breaking this treaty, We shall bear it, sigh… Grand Preceptor, do rise. Come, let Us help you up—you are a minister who has served three reigns; though a subject, you are also an elder to Us. Hereafter, should We ever err, you must speak to Us without reservation…”

The imperial carriage proceeded all the way to the city gate, where it received the now world-renowned old commander of the Western Army, Zhong Shidao.

For years, the Western Army had held the line against Western Xia incursions in the northwest; as military men, their strength had, in truth, made them the object of considerable wariness at court. Among the Western Army’s several clans, the Zhong family was, in truth, the strongest of all—old commander Zhong Shidao’s influence may not have reached the capital, but in Shaanxi, he was every bit the uncrowned king of the northwest.

During the years when the Wu Dynasty allied with the Jin against the Liao, Zhong Shidao had repeatedly submitted memorials to the capital voicing his opposition, though to little effect. But it was precisely this stance that had earned him the deep enmity of men like Tong Guan and Wang Fu; a couple of years earlier, once the Liao state fell and Tong Guan reclaimed the Six Prefectures of Yanyun, riding a wave of unmatched prestige, Zhong Shidao had retired from his post in the northwest and lived in seclusion ever since.

This time, with the Jurchens advancing south in overwhelming force, the court had finally adopted the strategy of recalling the Western Army into service. Upon receiving the order, Zhong Shidao had set out at once, joining forces with Yao Pingzhong of the Yao family; leading the Yao family’s seven thousand infantry and cavalry, he reinforced his numbers to over fifteen thousand upon reaching Luoyang, then marched south with great fanfare. His arrival at the capital, owing indeed to his sheer reputation, sent the whole city into an uproar of excitement…

…

An extraordinary atmosphere blanketed the capital, and with it, the encampments of the Wurui, Wuwei, and Wusheng armies as well. News of the court’s peace treaty with the Jin had already spread, but alongside it came no small amount of other news besides. Among these developments: Zhong Shidao was granted the title of Deputy Junior Tutor, Co-Manager of the Bureau of Military Affairs, and Pacification Commissioner of the Capital Region and the Two Rivers, with command of all provincial armies placed under him; Yao Pingzhong was made Chief Military Commissioner; and on the very day Zhong Shidao received his promotion, Qin Sinyuan was reinstated, resuming his post as Right Chancellor.

Within the capital, the situation shifted dramatically once more, while the Jurchens, for their part, had again settled into stillness, merely sending envoys into the city demanding the Wu Dynasty swiftly fulfill the terms of the treaty—terms which the Wu Dynasty now began to stall on. In the various military encampments outside the city, the atmosphere grew increasingly grim as well.

Throughout this period, Zhou Zhe found himself in an increasingly awkward position. The peace negotiations had proceeded with his nod of approval, and the treaty had already been signed. Though he outwardly claimed indifference to breaking it, the Jurchen envoys’ language at court had grown steadily harsher, and he could neither openly declare he would break the treaty, nor could he possibly agree to honor it. At this point, he suspected that a great many people beneath him were likely already cursing him behind his back, and he had no way to even defend himself.

It was for this reason that his desire for a decisive, glorious victory had grown all the more intense.

When Zhong Shidao and Yao Pingzhong first arrived in the capital, Zhou Zhe received them personally and warmly. Zhong Shidao, for all his advanced age and the slight illness that had already taken hold of him on the journey, still possessed remarkably clear thinking; after a single conversation with him, Zhou Zhe could tell the man genuinely possessed real ability. And Yao Pingzhong, representing the younger, more vigorous generation of the Western Army, did not disappoint him either—the heroic bearing and sharp edge about him left Zhou Zhe feeling that these men were simply on an entirely different level from the military officials at court.

Though he had always harbored some wariness toward them, at this moment he could see the situation clearly enough. Across the entire court, only the Western Army could truly fight.

Yet, having handed over unified command of the several hundred thousand troops outside the city to Zhong Shidao, this old man seemed, if anything, overly cautious. Upon marching south, Zhong Shidao had immediately ordered Zhong Shizhong to assemble the Zhong family’s forces, which were now also en route. The ailing old commander believed that only once all the armies had fully assembled, so that the decisive blow could be struck in a single, complete battle, would that be the proper course. Yao Pingzhong, however, held a different view—he felt that the Wu Dynasty’s repeated stalling by this point was already suspicious, and that further delay would only give the Jurchens more time to prepare. Zhou Zhe found himself agreeing with this assessment as well.

He met with Yao Pingzhong and Zhong Shidao on several occasions, and before long, Yao Pingzhong’s father, Yao Gu, arrived leading thirty thousand more troops, which only further heated Zhou Zhe’s eagerness, and he kept pressing for the matter of battle to move forward. In the course of all this, he also began to see through certain other matters.

Over several nights, while playing chess with the Empress in his private chambers, he brought the matter up as well.

“Empress, We too have come to see it clearly now—people, whatever their age, whatever position they hold, can never entirely escape their own private desires.”

“What makes Your Majesty say such a thing?”

“When old Lord Zhong entered the capital, the whole city cheered for him—calling him the King of the Northwest wouldn’t be an exaggeration. For this campaign, We have already handed him command of the several hundred thousand troops outside the city; Chancellor Li will cooperate with him as well, and he has the Yao family’s elite troops besides. Yet he delays and delays without moving. Empress, do you know why?”

The Empress hesitated a moment. “This battle concerns the very fate of our Wu Dynasty—perhaps it is only natural that Junior Guardian Zhong proceeds with some caution?”

“That consideration does exist, indeed.” Zhou Zhe smiled, though in his heart he had already seen through the whole matter. He paused briefly. “But there’s another consideration weighing on him as well—he doesn’t want to see the Yao family’s army steal the glory of this achievement. Zhong Shizhong is bringing only three or four thousand more troops with him at most; by now, inside and outside the city, our combined forces already number close to four hundred thousand. Even accounting for those unfit for battle, there’s certainly enough to fight with. They say a cowardly soldier is only one bad soldier, but a cowardly general ruins the whole unit. Zhong Shidao, Yao Gu, Yao Pingzhong—these men are, without question, among the finest generals of our age. They… likely aren’t afraid to fight at all. In truth… sigh, they’re all vying for credit.”

The emperor sighed and set down a stone on the board. The Empress fell silent for a moment. “Then… what does Your Majesty intend to do?”

“We have already spoken with them, one after another, several times now, and dropped hints in Our words, hoping only that they might join forces wholeheartedly, setting aside such rivalries, so that…” The emperor, having weathered so many great events of late, paused, gazing out at the moonlight, his voice dropping lower. “Only in that way… would it truly be a blessing for our Wu Dynasty, a blessing for the realm…”

Amid the chaotic state of affairs and the unfathomable hearts of men, all the little changes both within and beyond the city walls were gathering now beneath the heavens, and the weather was beginning to turn cold. Near Qi County, on the twenty-third of the ninth month, amid days of shifting circumstances, Ning Yi too sensed a change in the air; the situation in the capital reaching him had begun to tighten.

As one of the operators behind the Secret Investigation Bureau, he did indeed have access to first-hand intelligence on the ever-shifting state of affairs. Meanwhile, Qin Shaoqian too had already received first-hand word through military channels. That afternoon, the two of them met and exchanged information.

“Tonight, Yao Pingzhong is to leave the city and discuss the matter of deploying troops with us—I suspect this isn’t simply his own idea, but Lord Zhong’s…” Qin Shaoqian said, with some measure of concern.

Ning Yi nodded. “Zhong Shidao’s prestige is simply too towering—the whole city shook when he entered the capital. Tong Guan, Wang Fu, and the rest, who once forced him into retirement, now fear him. And His Majesty harbors some wariness toward him as well. You know… His Majesty has always been wary of the Western Army.”

“My father hasn’t been on the best of terms with him either, but if it truly comes to a fight, I think he’s more reliable than the Yao family.”

Earlier, in the alliance with the Jin against the Liao, Qin Sinyuan had been a staunch advocate for war, and indeed the very driving force behind it; he and Zhong Shidao, who had opposed that policy, had never gotten along particularly well. It was simply that Zhong Shidao, belonging to the military establishment, had found himself directly at odds with men like Tong Guan instead. Still, when it came down to it, Qin Shaoqian found himself placing greater trust in this world-renowned old commander Zhong.

But as far as he himself was concerned—even as the Wurui Battalion’s highest-ranking military officer—these were not matters he had any power to decide or choose.

That night, Yao Pingzhong came, and together with the commanders of several armies, they discussed the matter…

…

On the twenty-fourth of the ninth month, as the sun set in the west.

Across the whole expanse of land, something stirred quietly into motion.

The sunlight was not strong; deep autumn, too, was passing. Withered grass danced up into the sky—winter was coming.

“Brother Yue!”

As he approached the courtyard, Ning Yi waved to him from a distance. Yue Fei walked over; several large carts stood nearby, with a number of men gathered around them.

Ning Yi handed him a military order.

“Brother Yue, you’re coming with us tonight. We’re going to… protect the cargo on these carts.” Ning Yi glanced up at the sky. “Though tonight, the weather might turn a bit rough.”

“Master Ning, is the battle about to begin?”

“…Possibly.” Ning Yi frowned, pausing a moment. “Possibly.”

Night began to fall…

…

At Moutuo Ridge, within the Jurchen encampment, everything proceeded as usual. After nightfall, the bustle gradually gave way to stillness, and little by little, everyone settled in to sleep.

Skilled scouts slipped past the patrolling Jurchen riders and made their way back the way they’d come. Yet within that seemingly ordinary camp, the armored soldiers had, for the most part, already stepped out of their tents, forming up in silence, and mounting their horses.

Amid the darkness, Zongwang sat astride his warhorse. Perhaps sensing something out of the ordinary, the horse shook its head slightly. He leaned forward and stroked its neck. “Whoa…” he murmured softly.

“Tell me—why do the Wu Dynasty people think this king would fear that old man they call Zhong Shidao?”

He spoke this quietly, and the many generals gathered around him said nothing.

—On the fifteenth of the ninth month, right after Zhong Shidao arrived in the capital, the Jurchens, then in the midst of assaulting the city, had swiftly withdrawn their troops—partly because negotiations had concluded, and partly, in truth, out of a genuine wish to avoid fighting on two fronts at once. But this perfectly ordinary tactical decision seemed to have filled the Wu Dynasty people with extraordinary excitement; ever since, rumors had persistently circulated that the Jurchens had withdrawn because of Zhong Shidao’s arrival. And so, not long after, when Jurchen envoys entered Bianliang, on Zongwang’s own instructions, they had treated everyone else with arrogant disdain, while showing marked respect toward Zhong Shidao alone.

But for the many present—even Guo Yaoshi himself—none of them could truly understand the basis for the Wu Dynasty’s confidence. Say what you like, Zhong Shidao had done nothing more than hold off the Western Xia to the west; and Western Xia, for all its fearsome reputation, was itself nothing more than a dying dog compared to the Liao—whereas the Jurchens’ own record of accomplishment had been to annihilate the entire Liao state within the span of a few short years.

But none of that mattered anymore now.

After a moment, Zongwang spoke again, quietly. “Why are the Wu Dynasty people so slow…”

…

An army with its horses’ hooves wrapped in cloth moved across the darkened plain.

The infantry, too, had mostly wrapped their boots, carrying their weapons, advancing in silence.

The wind blew past, and Yao Pingzhong lifted his face to it.

From different directions, a combined force of two hundred and twenty thousand men converged, that very night, upon Moutuo Ridge!

…

Zongwang stroked his warhorse’s neck, watching the scout kneeling half-bent before him to deliver his report. The face of this Jurchen war god was rugged, his frame tall and imposing; in the dim light, his eyes now shone with unusual brightness and depth—within them lay the bones of ten thousand men.

“Pass the order to the whole army.” He tugged the reins, his voice low. “Attack… trample them into the ground!”

“Yes.”

Before long, the thunder of hooves rose like rolling thunder, and a great tide surged up out of the darkness!