Whoosh—

Torrential rain came pouring down. Bianliang, already dim with evening’s approach, grew darker still. Water streamed off the eaves, coursing through gutters, transforming into a churning, muddy flood that surged unrestrained through the city’s alleyways.

In Willow Tree Lane, several large carts had stopped in an alley now awash in filthy water; men dressed as guards, holding umbrellas, spread out around the area at a distance. Beside them stood a shabby, run-down little gate, behind which people had gathered — occasional sounds of crying drifted out, along with voices alternating between argument and pleading.

Ning Yi was inside that dilapidated house, speaking with a weeping woman.

“…From his school fees to Little Niu’s examination for the scholarly degree, we’ll cover every expense. If there’s truly lasting injury to his leg, we’ll see to his care for the rest of his life as well…”

“Aunt Pan, I know life hasn’t been easy for your family. Little Niu’s father died defending the city, and Zhu Biao and the others were fighting for their lives outside the walls at the same time — in a sense, we all fought together, we’re all one family. There’s no need to make this so tense between us — anything can be discussed. Whatever you need, feel free to ask…”

“…No, no, no, we would never dream of taking advantage of you. Please don’t cry. Look, I’ve even brought the clan elder here for this. Whatever your requests, as long as they’re reasonable, we’ll do everything we can to see them met…”

The woman’s crying occasionally rose in pitch, while Ning Yi’s words remained slow and sincere throughout. Time passed in this atmosphere, and by nightfall, the rain had eased somewhat. A group of men in straw raincoats came down the street; as they neared, some minor friction broke out with the guards outside, but the leader of the group finally strode swiftly up to the shabby courtyard gate.

The man leading them was Tie Tianying, one of the seven Chief Constables of the Ministry of Justice.

He strode into the courtyard in great steps. Inside the room, the two sides appeared to have already reached an agreement, but the moment the woman saw Tie Tianying enter, her expression of misery froze back into place, as though she were about to burst into tears all over again.

Ning Yi went over and patted her shoulder. “It’s all right, it’s all right, Aunt Pan. Why don’t you wait over there for a moment. Once we’ve settled everything clearly, there won’t be any more trouble. As for Chief Constable Tie, I’ll explain things to him myself — he’s only doing his official duty, there won’t be any problems…”

Just as he was saying this to reassure her, Tie Tianying strode through the door. “Ning Liheng, how dare you! Madam Pan, if he’s been threatening you in private, tell me at once — I won’t let him get away with it!”

A tall, thin old man came forward from within the room. “Chief Constable, Chief Constable, there’s been no threatening at all, none at all. Young Master Ning came here only to sort things out clearly — this old man can vouch for that…”

“And who are you?!” Tie Tianying glared at him.

“This old man is the head of the Niu clan, here about the matter of Little Niu’s injury. Please, Chief Constable, have a seat…”

“Get out of the way — I’m speaking with the man surnamed Ning. And who says he wasn’t threatening anyone, just because you say so!”

“Yes, yes, yes — Little Niu’s mother, hurry and tell the Chief Constable everything clearly…”

The clan elder, getting nothing but a cold look from Tie Tianying, hastily turned to prompt the woman beside him. She was merely a young widow married into the Niu family; her husband dead, but with a child still to raise, under the clan elder’s watchful eye, she dared not act rashly. But with this formidable Chief Constable standing before her as well, after a moment, her voice thick with tears, she said: “It’s — it’s all been settled clearly, Chief Constable, sir…”

Big fish eat small fish, small fish eat shrimp — there’s always something to keep something else in check. Tie Tianying’s gaze remained cold, but with that admission given, Ning Yi took the opportunity to lead the woman aside. Turning back, he found Tie Tianying watching him, giving a cold laugh and a nod. “Well done, Ning Liheng, quite impressive — settling so many households in just a few days…”

“Just slow, grinding work. You flatter me, Chief Constable.” Ning Yi sighed, then said, “Chief Constable Tie, there’s something I’m not sure whether I should say.”

Tie Tianying tilted his head. “Go on, then.”

“These are all small, humble families — none of them can afford to offend anyone.” Standing beneath the eaves, Ning Yi looked back across the whole courtyard. “The decision’s already been made — why not let them be? Don’t come back looking to cause them more trouble. Leave them a way to live.”

His tone was sincere. The muscles in Tie Tianying’s face twitched a few times, and finally he waved a hand. “Let’s go!” He led his men out of the courtyard. Ning Yi wiped his hands afterward and walked out alongside the head of the Niu clan.

The gathering that day had been over an incident that had occurred some days earlier.

It had been a full month now since the sudden turn of events in the capital back in March, when Qin Siyuan had been imprisoned and put on trial. Over this month, a great many complicated matters had unfolded beneath the surface, and public opinion on the visible surface had likewise shifted dramatically.

After Qin Siyuan’s trial began, many matters that had once lain hidden in the shadows were dragged out into the open — corruption, bribery, factional scheming, abuse of power for profit… piece by piece, this evidence was assembled into the sprawling outline of a corrupt, treacherous official. The hands guiding this portrait belonged, at this time, to some of the sharpest minds at the very pinnacle of power in the Wu Dynasty — Zhou Zhe among them, as well as Cai Jing, Tong Guan, Wang Fu, and others besides.

Roughly half the evidence in these matters was, in fact, genuine; woven together and arranged by these men, it produced, through the day-by-day joint hearings, an overwhelming case. This information filtered down into the ears and mouths of the capital’s scholars and literati, then trickled further, day by day, into the lower reaches of the information networks — and so, over the course of a little more than a month, by the time Qin Shaoqian too was implicated and imprisoned, the city’s image of the Qin Siyuan faction among the “Seven Tigers” had been thoroughly reversed and set in stone.

Several shops and enterprises connected to the Qin household soon suffered some collateral fallout as well — among them, the Bamboo Registry, and also a number of publishing houses that had once belonged to the Wang family.

The Wang family’s enterprises had originally been run by the family of the great scholar Wang Qisong; Wang Shanyue shared a teacher-student bond with Qin Siyuan, and had later fought alongside Ning Yi in Shandong, eventually being drawn by Ning Yi’s persuasion into a cooperative partnership. After the Bamboo Registry expanded, Ning Yi had devised improvements to the machinery and processes used in printing and papermaking workshops, boosting efficiency considerably; these publishing houses were then managed by the women of the Wang family.

At this time, Zhu Biao, who worked at Ning Yi’s side, had come to Bianliang and, falling in love with one of the Wang family’s daughters, had become engaged to her; he would occasionally go to help out at the Wang household as well.

On this particular day in mid-April, a group of people, stirred up and incited, had rushed into one of the Wang family’s shops to smash and vandalize it. Zhu Biao happened to be there at the time, standing guard at the gate leading to the courtyard behind the bookshop, and beat back the crowd that came rushing in, sending them sprawling in every direction.

Trained under Luan Tingyu, Zhu Biao had already been one of the finest fighters at Solitary Dragon Ridge; after following Ning Yi into battle, his skill by this point might well rival that of Chen Fan back in Hangzhou, making him one of the most formidable fighters at Ning Yi’s side. In all of Bianliang, perhaps only Lu Hongti could reliably overpower him. Against his near-master-level skill, a handful of ordinary “patriotic youths” stood no chance at all; in his fury, several dozen men were sent flying to the ground. But this, in turn, brought its own trouble.

The bookshop was subsequently shut down, and the authorities began investigating the matter, seeking to arrest Zhu Biao and bring charges against him. Ning Yi worked on two fronts — suppressing the case on one hand, while placating the injured parties and their families on the other. Fortunately, having followed Ning Yi for so long, Zhu Biao’s once-reckless temperament had long since been tempered considerably — had he still possessed the disposition he’d had when he first left Solitary Dragon Ridge, with several dozen ordinary men rushing in at him like that, these past days of restraint might well have ended with not a single one of them left alive.

Under Ning Yi’s investigation, of the several dozen men involved, roughly a dozen or so had suffered minor injuries, and one had been gravely hurt — this young man called “Little Niu.” His father had died defending the city; he himself had rushed in to smash the shop and assault people, and when Zhu Biao threw him back and he charged in again, he was finally thrown against the steps and broke his leg.

While Tie Tianying and his men gathered evidence to bring charges against Zhu Biao, Ning Yi arranged for many others to work the matter out on his behalf, through persuasion or pressure as needed. Though it had only been a few short days, the difficulties involved were more than could easily be recounted — for instance, this Little Niu’s mother, Madam Pan, had been pressured and enticed from one side by Ning Yi, while Tie Tianying and his men did precisely the same from the other, each side insisting she swear the attacker had acted with malicious intent, or else demanding an outrageous sum in compensation. Ning Yi had gone back and forth to see her many times, and only this time had the matter finally been settled.

This Madam Pan, though somewhat inclined to take advantage of the situation and hoping to profit handsomely from this opportunity, had found herself caught in an uncomfortable position, pressured from both sides by Tie Tianying and Ning Yi alike — a small, humble family daring to offend neither side. This was precisely why, in the end, Ning Yi had spoken to Tie Tianying the way he had.

Returning to the Bamboo Registry after all this and finishing dinner, there was, in truth, still far more waiting to be dealt with. The matter of Zhu Biao was far from simple or easily resolved, but troublesome matters were hardly limited to just this one thing.

These past few days, two of the Bamboo Registry’s shops had been vandalized as well — though this counted as a relatively minor matter by comparison. The Secret Investigation Bureau’s systems had already been separated from the Bamboo Registry, and over these days, the information networks radiating outward from the capital were being handed over piece by piece. Many of the Bamboo Registry’s most capable people had been sent out to other regions; the brothers Qi Xinyi and Qi Xinhan had gone south to manage affairs there as well. Within the capital, the Ministry of Justice kept finding excuses to cause trouble, some advisors had been threatened, and some had chosen to leave altogether — in short, of the entire system the Bamboo Registry had originally built up, whatever could be separated off was now, for the most part, falling apart. That Ning Yi had managed to hold onto its core was already no small feat.

He hadn’t yet reached the point of leaving, but that time was drawing near. Of course, leaving wouldn’t likely prove to be such a simple, straightforward matter either — he had already prepared a few contingencies, though he had no idea yet whether they would prove effective.

After dinner, the rain had lightened somewhat; the Bamboo Registry’s advisors and shopkeepers were discussing matters in several rooms across the courtyard, while Ning Yi handled affairs on the other side. One shopkeeper came to report that two of the shop assistants had been harassed and beaten by constables from the Ministry of Justice; afterward, an advisor came in to tender his resignation.

Ning Yi allocated medical and recovery funds for the two injured shop assistants, and had the shopkeeper see to comforting their families; as for the advisor, he spoke to him at length and, in the end, managed to talk him out of resigning — likely because the man had witnessed firsthand just how difficult things had become for Ning Yi.

Once both groups had left, a tall, upright young man appeared at the courtyard gate in the distance — it was Zhu Biao, whom Ning Yi had arranged to handle other matters these past few days. He had apparently already heard what Ning Yi and the others had been doing, and had rushed over; his expression was unhappy, though clearly not directed at Ning Yi.

“Sit.” Ning Yi said with a smile, gesturing.

Zhu Biao sat down across from him. Though a martial artist rather than a court official, he too carried his own sense of standing and dignity — especially one who had reached Zhu Biao’s level of skill, which in most places would already earn him the title of grandmaster. He wasn’t the type to bow his head before anyone. But at this moment, there was clearly something weighing on him.

“Though I came from a place like Solitary Dragon Ridge, I, Zhu Biao, have never considered myself some lawless bandit from the wilds.”

After sitting for a good while, Zhu Biao finally spoke. “Setting aside what we all went through fighting outside the city — whether or not those people were misled by others, the moment they charged into the bookshop to smash and destroy it, they’d already earned their deaths. That I held back wasn’t because I was in the wrong.”

He spoke evenly but firmly. Ning Yi had already poured him a cup of tea. “We’ve known each other for years now. You don’t need to say any of this — I already understand. If there’s something you can’t let go of in your heart…”

“There is something I can’t let go of. I want to kill someone.” Zhu Biao gave a faint smile. “But that would only bring you more trouble.”

“The capital plays by its own rules — fortunately, that game’s almost over here.” Ning Yi paused. “If you’re feeling restless, there are some matters up north I could send you to handle, let you clear your head a bit. You’re a martial artist — carrying this much weight on your mind isn’t good for your cultivation.”

For a martial artist, swallowing humiliation was always difficult, especially for someone like Zhu Biao — but this wasn’t the moment to belabor the point with too much reasoning. Fortunately, the two of them had known each other for years now and understood each other well enough that not much needed explaining. After Ning Yi’s suggestion, Zhu Biao only shook his head.

“I had a fire burning in me on the way here, but I’d already pushed it down by the time I arrived,” he said. “You’ve been holding back far more anger than I have. Thinking about that just makes me feel my own cultivation still falls short. These past few days you’ve been going around apologizing and making amends to people — you shouldn’t have kept that from me. Better to have brought me along.”

“That wasn’t about sparing your feelings — this kind of matter is better handled without you there. It’s purely a question of money and connections. If you’d been present, they’d only have pushed for more.” Ning Yi shook his head. “As for anger, of course I have plenty too, but there’s no use for it right now… Are you sure you don’t want to go take a trip somewhere?”

Zhu Biao shook his head again.

Ning Yi was silent for a moment. “Sometimes I think about just killing every last one of those fools and being done with it. But then I think it over again — when the Jurchens come marching back, all these people are doomed anyway. Thinking of it that way just leaves me feeling cold inside… Of course, this stretch of time really has been hard to get through. Even someone as patient as I am won’t treat another man’s slap as some kind of reward. The Bamboo Registry, the chancellor’s household — both are in this same state. Old Qin, Yao Zunian, and the rest have it far worse than we do. If we can just hold on a little longer, maybe we can shield them from a bit more of it…”

“Before I started working for you, I admired my master for his skill in combat. Later, working with you, I came to admire Master Zhou Tong — a true hero, worthy of the name, without question,” Zhu Biao said. “Now I admire you. What you’re doing isn’t something an ordinary man could do. If you can endure all this, what right do I have to complain? As long as you’re in the capital, I’ll be in the capital too. If anyone tries to kill you, I’ll stand in their way! And if it comes to it, I could take the blame for killing Tie Tianying myself, then flee far away — you could hand me over to the authorities, and once you leave the capital, I’ll come find you again.”

Ning Yi blinked, then burst out laughing. “No need for that. Tie Tianying’s just a minor official — what would killing him even accomplish…”

“Someone else, then.”

“Don’t go around thinking about killing people all the time — I was just about to say you’d grown up…”

Just as Ning Yi was speaking, someone hurried in from outside. Seeing that it was Zhu Biao, a regular fixture among Ning Yi’s guards, the man didn’t bother concealing anything, handing Ning Yi a piece of intelligence and murmuring a few words in a low voice. Ning Yi took the report and glanced at it; his expression gradually darkened. Over this past month, this had become a rather common expression of his…

The next day was the twenty-third of April that year. It rained again that morning. The Court of Judicial Review’s trial of Qin Siyuan continued.

Though the proceedings weren’t public, under the manipulation of interested parties, whatever new issues emerged each day during the hearing would be leaked out that same day, becoming a favorite topic of gossip among the capital’s scholars and literati.

Once the midday session concluded, Qin Siyuan would be escorted back to the Ministry of Justice’s prison.

Members of the Qin family often came to wait, along with the elderly Madam Qin and Qin Siyuan’s concubine Yunniang — partly to see Qin Siyuan, and partly to see Qin Shaoqian, who had also been implicated by now. That morning, Ning Yi and the others had arrived early as well; he had sent people to work behind the scenes, spreading around a fair amount of money, but so far without much success. Around midday, when Qin Siyuan and Qin Shaoqian were escorted out, Ning Yi and the others went to meet them.

Since neither had yet been formally convicted, both wore only symbolic chains. After days confined in the prison, Qin Siyuan had grown visibly thinner with each passing day, but even so, his hair, entirely white now, remained neatly combed back, his spirit and willpower still stubbornly sustaining him. Qin Shaoqian, too, remained unbroken — perhaps because his father was there beside him, his fury had grown ever more restrained and quiet. Only upon seeing Ning Yi and the others did something flicker in his gaze, and he glanced around at his surroundings.

“Where’s my mother? Has she… fallen ill again?”

He looked around and, seeing that Madam Qin hadn’t come, finally asked this question. Ning Yi hesitated, then shook his head. Yunniang explained to Qin Siyuan as well: “Sister is fine, it’s only…” She glanced at Ning Yi.

“There may have been some reason to keep the matriarch from coming today,” Ning Yi answered this way.

Qin Siyuan nodded and walked forward. He had experienced everything there was to experience; as long as his family was safe, nothing else really counted as serious to him.

As they walked, Ning Yi gave Qin Siyuan a rough account of how things stood. Listening to it, Qin Siyuan seemed to grow somewhat distant, momentarily lost in thought. Ning Yi went to bribe the guards and jailers as he usually did, but this time, no one would accept the money; he suggested taking a different route back, but this too was refused.

Some time after leaving the Court of Judicial Review, with few pedestrians about under the overcast sky, traces of the earlier rain still lingered on the road. Ning Yi glanced off to one side in the distance; someone signaled to him, and he frowned. They were nearing a busier part of the city now; as though sensing something, the old man beside him turned to look in the same direction as well — on the second floor of a roadside tavern, someone was looking down toward them.

“Look, there’s the old dog Qin Siyuan!” the man suddenly shouted.

More heads poked out from the tavern window, most of them young scholars.

“Qin Siyuan? Which one?”

“And his son too… Qin Shaoqian—”

After some discussion, someone suddenly shouted: “Traitorous dog—”

“Why won’t you just die! Old dog!”

“This nation’s been bled dry because of scum like you—”

The curses came pouring down, sounding hollow and loud for the moment. Ning Yi frowned; beside him, Qin Siyuan’s gaze remained calm, though he tilted his head slightly. “Heh, heh, this is trouble…” Beneath that laughter lay a deep exhaustion.

As the group passed the tavern, the cursing intensified; a number of the scholars came down from upstairs, shouting abuse without pause. Within Qin Siyuan’s group, a boy of about ten couldn’t help but cry out: “My third grand-uncle is a good man—” The crowd jeered back: “So that’s the old dog’s little pup, is it?” “Your whole family deserves to die—”

Ning Yi stepped forward and grabbed the arm of the lead jailer. “Move quickly! If something happens now, do you think you’ll come out of this unscathed?” The man froze. “This, this, this… this has nothing to do with me.” Though visibly uneasy, he made no move to comply.

“Who gave you your orders before this, telling you to act this way?”

“Wha— what are you talking about, don’t go making things up!”

This particular group of jailers wasn’t familiar with Ning Yi; though outwardly amicable, they were, for the moment, difficult to sway. As they negotiated, the jeering along the roadside grew ever more intense, with a group of scholars following alongside, shouting and cursing without pause. Over the course of this trial, as more and more evidence had come to light, Qin Siyuan had already been proven guilty of several charges — and to the ordinary person, the logic seemed clear enough: had the Qin faction not held such power while being so insatiably greedy, the nation’s strength would naturally have been much stronger; had Qin Shaoqian not consolidated all the elite troops under his own command through underhanded means, suppressing colleagues and eliminating rivals, perhaps the army outside the city wouldn’t have collapsed so badly. Indeed — had it not been for these treacherous schemers, would the defense of Bianliang really have cost so many lives, suffered so many defeats?

The pedestrians on the road had initially seemed somewhat uncertain, but before long, a good number of them began joining in as well. Ning Yi felt a rising sense of urgency; he had already heard rumors beforehand about a group of scholars planning to intercept Qin Siyuan like this, but only now discovered it wasn’t quite so simple. He had arranged for a few men to infiltrate the scholars’ ranks and argue against them whenever they tried to stir up the crowd, hoping to sow discord — but those men had since been arrested and taken away by the constables.

“Old dog! Can you even sleep at night!?”

“A pack of traitors — I could kill every last one of you—”

“Hundreds of thousands of innocent dead—”

“Rise up, Wu Dynasty! Wipe out the Seven Tigers—”

“Purge the traitors, restore our strength—”

As the crowd shouted, someone picked up something from the ground and hurled it — Ning Yi had already stepped back to Qin Siyuan’s side and threw up a hand to block it, only for a clump of filth to splatter, spraying mud in every direction.

“He dares to block it—”

“Does the treacherous dog want to fight, then—”

The scholars shouted again, and seeing so many passersby joining in, their fervor rose even higher; they began grabbing things and hurling them again. At first it was mostly mud and coal from the ground, caked in filth, but before long, some began throwing stones as well. Ning Yi shielded Qin Siyuan, and his guards moved in to shield him in turn. Along the long street, many more heads now poked out from windows and doorways; those ahead who had stopped watched with confusion at first, then began shouting too, their excitement rising as they joined the swelling crowd. By this point in the morning, the throng had grown dense and crowded.

“Rise up, Wu Dynasty—”

“Drink their blood, eat their flesh—”

“Swear to kill the Jurchens, restore our glory—”

The roar of voices swelled like a great tide; the scholars screamed themselves hoarse in a kind of frenzy, their faces flushed with excitement, hurling objects down from above that were decidedly not the harmless fruits, eggs, or rotten vegetable leaves one might expect. Qin Siyuan, sheltered within the group, pressed forward with difficulty, shouting toward Ning Yi and the others: “Go! Just go! Don’t get dragged into this—” Ning Yi paid him no mind, having his men fetch wooden door panels to shield their path forward, though plenty of debris still rained down and struck them regardless.

The situation grew increasingly chaotic as they pressed on. Someone was struck by a stone and fell. Near Qin Siyuan, a loud thud sounded, and another figure collapsed as well — it was his concubine Yunniang, struck in the head by a stone, crumpling limply to the ground. Qin Shaoqian, following close behind, caught her; he shielded his father and this concubine both, his eyes bloodshot, jaw clenched tight, pressing forward with his head lowered. Someone in the crowd shouted: “My uncle is a loyal servant of the crown.” “My third grand-uncle is innocent — he’s the one who saved all of you—” This cry, mixed with sobbing, only excited the crowd outside even further.

“Beat, beat the treacherous dog—”

“Beat their whole family—”

“Show them what they’ve got coming!”

The mood along the long street had turned feverish; everyone shouted these same cries, pressing in from all sides. Ning Yi’s guards had brought wooden boards, and everyone advanced behind their cover; from ahead, someone rushed forward carrying buckets — two buckets of night soil — and flung the contents over the crowd, filth spraying everywhere. The stench spread through the air, and the crowd only cheered louder for it; some threw cow dung, dog dung, and the like as well. Someone shouted: “My father was killed by scoundrels just like you—”

“Rid the people of this menace—”

“Kill the traitors, may Heaven bless the Wu Dynasty—”

By now, filth had splattered all over Ning Yi’s clothes; he pressed forward in silence, pushing through the crowd. Beside him, the old man’s hair and beard had come completely undone, his robes soiled as well, but he too remained silent, pressing forward to shield Yunniang. After a moment, he seemed to catch himself, and gripped Ning Yi’s hand. “Yunniang — Liheng, you take Yunniang and get her out of here, quickly—” Only now did the old man think to plead, and even then, only about his family. Around them, many of the Qin family’s younger members had already begun weeping; some had fallen to the ground, and the crowd, showing no mercy, kicked and beat them where they lay, until Bamboo Registry guards managed to pull them back to safety.

Ning Yi handed Yunniang over to Zhu Biao nearby. “Get her out of here.”

Zhu Biao passed her along to another man, then stood with a grim expression, reaching up to block the debris raining down from above, only to be struck by a load of cow dung a moment later.

In the distance, constables from the Ministry of Justice began arriving to maintain order, though they kept a wary eye on the advancing procession, seemingly buried beneath the crowd’s fury, ready at any moment to guard against a sudden counterattack from Ning Yi’s group, prepared to make arrests the instant it seemed warranted.

The roaring waves of sound rose like some kind of festival celebration, stirring no small part of the city into motion; some joined in, others watched from a safe distance, laughing uproariously. On this day, facing an enemy who could not strike back, the people of this city — who had suffered so much under the Jurchen siege — finally achieved, for the very first time, a complete and total victory…