By the low woods, at the stream’s edge, amid the dim, hushed air, only the single point of light burning atop the torch remained. The figures around seemed at once dense and sparse, stretching out into the shadowy distance in flickering, indistinct shapes. The uncounted scattered soldiers nearby had also quietly drawn closer, listening as the man beneath the tree finished recounting the situation at Qi County to the east. Then, for a moment, everyone fell silent.

“…Whether what happened today was right or wrong is hard to say. All of you working for the Bamboo Registry were, in the end, just doing a job — none of you signed up to go to war. I brought you all here, and so many companions have been lost as a result. I feel the guilt of that in my heart, but guilt doesn’t solve anything.”

In the torchlight, Ning Yi’s voice wasn’t raised, but carried by the night wind, it was clear enough for everyone around to hear.

“Tonight, no one can solve this problem. An army of ten, twenty thousand strong couldn’t solve it. Put yourselves in my place, look at the people around you — we’ve all done what we could. But I’m standing here, telling you all this, because I intend to ask something unreasonable of you.”

“Scorched earth.” Ning Yi said, with a touch of weariness in his voice. “This is what our people at the Bamboo Registry have been doing lately. Many don’t understand it, come to argue and complain — there are so many people around Bianliang, how could we possibly evacuate them all, what would even be the point? Honestly, up to now, it hasn’t accomplished anything. There are simply too many people around Bianliang — as long as people remain alive here, there’s food to be found, and even if we evacuated eight or nine out of ten, the mere few tens of thousands of Jurchens left could still find something to eat here. It wouldn’t mean a thing.”

“For people used to speaking in vague, noncommittal terms, for officials, if a million people leave and five hundred thousand get out, that’s already a fine achievement — if six hundred thousand get out, all the more impressive. But for us, it isn’t like that. From start to finish, until everyone’s out, we’re worth nothing. If a million people need to move and we only manage ninety-five percent, then what we’ve done amounts to nothing at all.” He waved his hand, his tone growing suddenly fierce. “From the very start, this is the kind of task we set ourselves!”

“And we still don’t know how much longer this has to go on.” Ning Yi’s tone softened again. “The army’s suffered a defeat — what happens now, what happens to the capital, none of us knows. Whether this war stops right here, or whether the city falls and Wuchao falls with it, none of us knows either. But if the fighting is going to continue, then I need to keep doing what I do. Except now the Jurchens have raided our camp, and the people there probably have no stomach left for fighting. If the Jurchens get their hands on our supplies and equipment, then everything we’ve been doing gets thrown right back to square one.”

He paused there, tired from his wound and from talking, and looked around behind him, finding a rock to sit on. Someone in the crowd spoke up: “Boss, just tell us what to do.”

“It’s not that simple. I’m someone who believes in explaining things properly.” Ning Yi sat down and shook his head. “If I’m going to ask you to risk your lives, I need to make things clear to you first. Otherwise, if people end up dead, I don’t want you blaming me on the road to the underworld… I really don’t like that kind of thing.”

He let out a breath. “Of course, there’s a chance of coming back alive too. I want to pick some people — those who can still move, those skilled in martial arts — to go check on Qi County. If the people at the camp have already burned the supplies and equipment themselves, we turn around and leave. If they haven’t, then this falls to us. The Jurchens only have two thousand men there, and there are still plenty of people around Qi County right now, in total chaos. If we can find a way to move in fast and get out fast, do what needs doing and leave, we might just come out of it alive. That’s… more or less the plan. Anyone who can still move — who’s willing to come with me?”

By the time he finished speaking, Zhu Biao had already come forward, spear in hand; the man who’d spoken up earlier had also braced himself against a tree and stood up, and a few others rose as well — all of them former Liangshan men still able to move. Bamboo Registry members, in their day-to-day work, had received plenty of positive encouragement, but given the circumstances at hand, many were not only wounded and exhausted but also weighed down with worries and attachments, and hesitated to varying degrees. Ning Yi simply sat on the rock, resting, watching it all quietly. What he’d said hadn’t been without a measure of encouragement, even incitement — but he’d said enough for now, and had no wish to force anyone into something like this.

Gradually, more people began to rise, when someone nearby murmured quietly, “Chen Tuozi, what about your wife and kids?”

The figure in the darkness there was a slightly hunched martial artist, being addressed by a badly wounded comrade lying nearby. That hunchback let out a cold laugh. “I, Chen Tuozi, was never any kind of good man. In my younger days I killed men and robbed on the roads — even my wife, I took her by force. But once she was with me, she had no choice but to stay. I came here in the first place just to scrape together a living, but I know good from bad well enough. What the Bamboo Registry’s done these past few years, how many people it’s saved, how many lives it’s kept going — I’ve seen it all clearly with my own eyes. I, Chen Tuozi, have managed to do a few good things these past years too, if I say so myself. Today, if someone else were asking me to go fight the Jurchens, I wouldn’t even bother with them. But this life, if I’m selling it here — I’m glad to.”

This Chen Tuozi had always had a bad reputation on the roads of the underworld, a vicious and treacherous man — and even now, speaking these bold words with a laugh on his lips, there was still something sinister about him. Someone beside him nodded. “Chen Tuozi’s right.” And another man rose to his feet. Chen Tuozi turned toward Ning Yi. “By the way, boss, let me tell you — the things you’ve done, other people might not know, but we do. There’s always someone or other coming to give you trouble. Last year, even a group of my own sworn brothers from the old days came looking to kill you and make a name for themselves. My reputation’s bad enough that they didn’t believe me when I told them what you’d actually been doing — thought I’d been bought off. So I didn’t bother arguing anymore. Blade went in white, came out red — I killed every last one of them clean, and had the bodies buried outside the city.”

Hearing this, the crowd fell into a somewhat uneasy silence, until someone said, “You didn’t even call me in on that one.” Ning Yi, sitting on the rock, laughed. “Who’s your boss, who feeds you? What, you want me to thank you for it?”

He wasn’t gentle about it, but Chen Tuozi, being the kind of unscrupulous character he was, ate that sort of thing right up. “That’s not what I meant, boss. All the things you’ve done, all the people you’ve saved — I couldn’t do any of that myself. I, Chen Tuozi, my reputation doesn’t amount to much. Those sworn brothers of mine, I used to value them a great deal. But after these years at the Bamboo Registry, looking at the sorry state they turned out to be, I don’t think much of it anymore. If you say this needs doing today, we’ll go do it for you — but you don’t need to go yourself. You just rest here, and wait for us to come back with good news. That’s all I wanted to say!”

As soon as he finished, the crowd around him immediately murmured in agreement: “That’s right, that’s right, Chen Tuozi’s got it right!”

“Boss, you can’t go — we’ll go!”

“You don’t need to lift a finger for this.”

Amid the clamor, not far off among the badly wounded lying on the ground, Yuwen Feidu had actually managed to stand, raising his hand. “I— I want to go…” Ning Yi, watching closely, pointed at him at once. “Get him steadied, quick!” Someone caught the young man as he collapsed and laid him back down. Ning Yi stood up, his expression stern. “Enough! This isn’t a town hall meeting — I’m not here to debate democracy with you! While everyone still has some breath left, Zhu Biao, pick the men! Anyone too badly hurt, leave them with me — I don’t want dead weight along! I am Ning Liheng, the Bloody-Handed Butcher — even Zhou Tong shows me deference when we meet, even Lin Ochan doesn’t dare raise his voice in front of me! Do you all need me to teach you how this works?”

By now, several dozen people were willing to go with Ning Yi to Qi County. As he finished speaking, Zhu Biao went to further select the men. Just then, someone on the outer edge of the group raised a hand as well. “Can— can I go? I’m not wounded, and I’ve trained a bit — I can help!”

This turned out to be one of the scattered soldiers nearby, not a member of the Bamboo Registry. As he spoke, another person in the crowd rose to their feet, and someone else said, “My brother just died a while ago. I think what you’re saying makes sense — I’ll go with you…”

Wuchao’s armies, top to bottom, were a mixed bag, and in large-scale engagements, trust between men was hard to come by. But even so, there were always a few standout individuals within any army, a few who still had fire in their blood. And so, in the darkness by that small stream, one figure after another rose, hesitant but resolute, stepping out from the crowd. The night wind blew past, and Ning Yi watched it all unfold; Zhu Biao watched Ning Yi. On Yue Fei’s side, some soldiers began stepping forward to volunteer as well. After a moment, Ning Yi finally said, coldly, “Having fire in your blood alone isn’t enough. If you can kill, if you have real skill, you can come.”

Then he added, “If you die out there, don’t blame me for it.”

His tone was cold and blunt, but as Zhu Biao went around selecting men, testing each one’s skill with a quick grip of the hand, he said with a grin, “From now on, we’re brothers.” More than a few felt something warm stir in their chests at that.

…

As the seventy or eighty men Ning Yi had gathered crossed the river and the hills, dragging their exhausted bodies toward Qi County, in the capital, the farcical scheming set off by the Western Army’s defeat was building toward its climax.

Shishi went to a room on the outer edge of the Fan Tower, and through the window, watched troops rushing past in the streets below. The city, in the darkness of night, had grown faintly restless, rousing many from their sleep. To ordinary commoners, it seemed as though the Jurchens might be attacking the city again. Meanwhile, along the solemn imperial avenue, a growing number of ministers had gathered to block the emperor’s carriage, desperately pleading for him to return to the palace.

Zhou Zhe had already been in a rage for some time now, but the way things were unfolding had genuinely caught him off guard. He had originally intended to use the curfew as an excuse to send the ministers all home, but no sooner had the order begun to go out than unrest had already started stirring faintly throughout the city. Li Gang came to report that news of the Western Army’s crushing defeat had leaked out somehow, and that a good number of the city’s residents were now on the verge of causing a disturbance. Worst of all were the students of the Imperial Academy, who, in the dead of night, intended to defy the curfew and march to the palace to petition — no one quite knew how they’d managed to organize themselves in secret.

The Western Army’s defeat was already a grave matter on its own, and now with trouble brewing within the city as well, if word got out that the emperor had fled in the night, there was no telling what might happen. Li Gang, still kowtowing, reported that he had already mobilized troops to maintain order, and the veins on Zhou Zhe’s forehead throbbed visibly as he listened. Li Gang then added that the Jin envoy was still within the city — if he learned that the emperor had left, the Jurchen army to the north would certainly bypass Bianliang and pursue southward instead.

At this, even Zhou Zhe felt there was no way to salvage the situation.

At the Nanxun Gate tower, the imperial uncle Liang Feng’s cursing echoed through the night sky. In a small room to the side of the gate tower, the garrison commander Cao Yan paced back and forth anxiously, his face full of misery. He had already tried several times to go out, but each time had held back — because of a certain figure sitting in the corner of the room.

“Go out and open the gate, General, and you’ll be a criminal for all history to remember.”

In the darkness, that figure sat turning a string of Buddhist prayer beads slowly in his hand — it was, unmistakably, the monk Juemíng, an advisor to the Right Chancellor’s household and, like the others, a member of the imperial in-laws…

…

Crash—

Half an hour later, in the palace, Zhou Zhe smashed a large vase to pieces.

“Outrageous! Absolutely outrageous! These court officials, these treacherous factions… they’re staging a coup! They have no regard for their sovereign — they don’t even see me as their emperor—”

The empress knelt on the ground before Zhou Zhe, who had by now nearly worked himself into a fury. But Zhou Zhe rushed over, pulled her to her feet, and set her down to sit aside, then, a moment later, came before her again. “You foolish woman! You’re being foolish too! Empress, you…”

His finger trembled in the air for a long moment before finally dropping. “Ah, I’ve been foolish too! Empress, look — all this unrest in the city, all this uproar, it’s all something they’ve cooked up! Those who favor war, those who favor peace — they’ve all banded together, trying to strip me of my power. Li Gang! No, wait — Qin Siyuan! Only Qin Siyuan has the means for something like this — he thinks that just because he didn’t show himself today to rally the others against me, I wouldn’t figure it out! I, I know exactly what’s going on…”

He trailed off for a long moment, then shook his head. “No, no, that’s not right — it might not just be him… Cai Jing! Hmph, that old fox, Cai Jing — do you think I don’t know him? On the surface he comes rushing over, putting on a show of heading south together with me, but in truth… in truth he’s the one pulling the strings behind it all, making sure my attention stays fixed on everyone else. That old dog’s tricks — do you think I don’t see through them? Clever, very clever — either way, whether he leaves or stays, he still comes out ahead: if he leaves, he can still undermine everyone who isn’t on his side. No matter what happens, he wins. These things, I, I…”

He went on like this for a long while, his words growing increasingly halting. “Once — once things settle down, all of them, I’ll deal with every single one of them, one by one, teach them all a lesson, let them… let them know what I’m capable of… I am the Son of Heaven!”

“I am the Son of Heaven…” he muttered, “The most urgent matter now is to negotiate peace, to talk terms — no, no, no… there’s no way to negotiate now, the Jurchens hold all the advantage, it won’t go well, but we have to try regardless. Send someone at once, summon the Jin envoy, discuss the matter…”

Before he could finish, someone entered the hall and reported to him: “…There’s unrest in the city — a group of Imperial Academy students and commoners stormed the temporary residence of the Jin envoy Wang Rui, and in the chaos, they beat Wang Rui to death.”

“You—” Zhou Zhe stood before the throne, fists clenched, staring at the eunuch delivering the report. After a moment, his body swayed, and he sank down into his seat, his clenched fists pressing against his knees, lips pressed tight, trembling faintly with rage…

“Fine…” he said through gritted teeth. “Fine… let them do as they please…”

…

Within the walls of Bianliang, in the small garden known as Qingluo Garden, Qin Siyuan would occasionally come to rest. It was now deep into the night; in the dim light, Qin Siyuan sat within the pavilion, his gaze seeming to reach past the surrounding courtyards, past the city walls, out to the land a hundred li beyond.

Some people were already nearby; others were still arriving — Yao Zunian was there, as was Juemíng, and even Tang Ke had come rushing over.

“If it weren’t absolutely necessary, I wouldn’t wish to do this — but there’s no other way now.” He closed his eyes, and after a moment, let out a weary sigh. “Old Yao… after this, you and I are unlikely to end well.”

His voice was low, and no one spoke.

Outside the city, across a stretch of nearly a hundred li to the east and north, the drifting smoke of battle had begun to disperse. Tens of thousands of routed and wounded soldiers, along with the dead, lay scattered across this vast expanse, dispersing and fleeing. On this night, the Jin’s second prince, Wanyan Zongwang, had completed his strategic objective, crushing nearly every threat around Bianliang in a single decisive stroke. Deep autumn was fading, and now, the bitter winter was closing in.