The sun set in the west, casting a spread of golden color across the riverside valley in early summer. A few hazel, hackberry, and honey locust trees grew crooked on the small earthen slope, and from the wooden hut beside it came the occasional murmur of voices.
Outside the hut, on a wooden stake, a man with a light beard sat cross-legged, an air of calm, quiet composure about him in the evening light. The man’s name was Chen Fan, twenty-seven years old this year, already a formidable master among the jianghu’s finest.
Inside, what was underway was a training class for Small Azure River’s lower-level managers, its participants a group of promising young people from the settlement, selected to attend. Every few days, some of the valley’s veteran stewards, advisors, and generals would come to share their own experience; if anyone with exceptional talent caught the eye of one of these teachers, there was even a chance of being taken on as a formal disciple, one-on-one.
Ning Yi would occasionally come by to teach a class himself, covering topics in management — how to pursue maximum efficiency in work, how to draw out people’s own initiative, and so on.
Of course, sometimes he spoke of other things too.
This year, going by his current physical condition, the man named Ning Yi was twenty-six years old. Out of long habit, he’d never grown a beard, and so, by appearance alone, he looked quite young. Yet very few people would ever think of him as young. The name Inner Demon Ning Yi carried a reputation for menace in the outside world that was, if anything, understated — whether for the series of things he’d once done, or for the astonishing regicide at the Golden Hall that came after, in the eyes of no small number of people, this name had already become synonymous with the great chaos-bringer of this age.
Of course, standing before him, especially in a moment like this, very few would think to view him as such a figure of chaos and menace. His bearing was composed, his voice not loud, his speech somewhat quick but still clear and fluent — a sign that what he was saying had already been thought through carefully in advance. Naturally, when he introduced some novel term or concept that others struggled to grasp, he’d suggest they simply jot it down for now; questions could be discussed, and understanding could come gradually, in time.
Today’s lesson covered some coordination problems that had arisen in Small Azure River’s construction work over the past two months; the content only took up about half the originally allotted time. Once he’d finished what he had to say, Ning Yi pulled up a stool and sat down before the group, opening the floor to questions. But in truth, the young people present still lacked much systematic capacity for critical thinking, and on top of that, they held a certain degree of personal reverence for Ning Yi — after about two questions and answers, no one else spoke up.
Sunlight streamed in through the window. After a moment of quiet in the hut, Ning Yi nodded, then smiled and rapped his knuckles on the table beside him.
“Since there are no more questions, that’ll be all for today’s discussion.” He stood up. “But there’s still a bit of time before dinner, and there’s something I’d like to talk to you all about — as it happens, most of you are here.”
Ning Yi smiled, pointing his finger toward the group. Zhuo Xiaofeng and the other young people felt a flicker of curiosity, and then heard Ning Yi say, “I want to talk to you about forming societies.”
Most of the young people in the room now were among Small Azure River’s more outstanding members; as it happened, Zhuo Xiaofeng of the original “Yongle Youth Corps” and Liu Yi of the “Righteous Spirit Society” were both present, along with the founders of newer groups like Luo Ye of the “Huayan Society” and Chen Xing of the “Mo Society.” As for the rest, most belonged to one society or another to some degree. Hearing Ning Yi bring this topic up, everyone in the room felt a flicker of unease. They were all intelligent people, and since ancient times, those in power had never liked factionalism — if Ning Yi disapproved of this, they might well have to disband.
Ning Yi looked at them for a moment. “Forming societies, banding together — that’s not a bad thing.”
Having said this, Chen Xing and the others felt their hearts settle a little. Ning Yi went on with a smile, “Everyone has their own temperament, their own personality, their own ideas, their own views. In broad terms, we who rose up in rebellion and came to Small Azure River are all one family now — but even within a family, you’ll always find some people you naturally get along with better, some you feel closer to. That’s just human nature. We have to overcome certain weaknesses in ourselves, but that doesn’t mean our nature can simply be erased.”
“Acknowledging that this is just how things are, forming societies and banding together will actually be useful to you in your future studies and work. If you have an idea, a good notion, discussing it with people whose temperament is closer to your own, who you can talk easily with, will naturally go better than discussing it with someone else. On the other hand, we also have to recognize — we’ve only been here about half a year, and the fact that you already have your own ideas, your own positions, shows that these past six months haven’t been spent in stagnation. And these groups you’ve formed weren’t born out of some frivolous impulse, but out of things you genuinely consider important, a real, sincere hope to become better people. That’s a good thing too. But — and here comes the ‘but.'”
Everyone below sat up straight at once. Ning Yi didn’t stop them from taking it so seriously; his own expression had grown a bit more solemn.
“But! Confucius said, the gentleman associates without forming factions; the petty man forms factions without true association. Why is forming factions without true association considered the mark of a petty man? Because factionalism is about serving private interests, banding together against outsiders! A group forms because it genuinely brings real benefits — but when it runs into problems, that too is simply a matter of human nature, the inevitable blind spots and oversights that lead to problems recurring again and again.”
As he said this, a voice rose in the room — it was Chen Xing, the founder of the “Mo Society,” who’d been sitting toward the back. He raised his hand and stood. “Master Ning, we formed the Mo Society purely out of our own convictions, not out of self-interest. If in the future something were to…”
“Don’t declare anything.” Ning Yi waved a hand. “No one here can doubt the sincerity of your intentions right now. Just as I said, every single person in this room is genuinely outstanding. But I’ve met many equally outstanding people before.”
“Take Cai Jing, take Tong Guan, take Qin Hui — take the many people I’ve encountered in the court before. They were, among everyone, some of the very best. You think Cai Jing is just a corrupt, scheming minister? Tong Guan just some incompetent prince? Neither is true. Cai Jing has followers and disciples scattered across the realm — go back fifty years to when Cai Jing first entered officialdom, and I’d wager he carried ideals in his heart, ideals far brighter than yours, even, and far more forward-thinking. Why did every great official in the capital, in the court, end up the way they did — incapable of doing good, but all too capable of forming cliques for doing wrong? If you’re asking whether any of them set out from the very beginning wanting to become a corrupt official — absolutely, not a single one did!”
“If it were simply a matter of using one’s position for personal gain, laid bare before someone’s eyes, most people could refuse it outright. If I offered you ten taels of silver to do me a favor, you could refuse without hesitation. But every one of you — even now — Zhuo Xiaofeng, let me ask you: if a relative of yours wanted to join the Yongle Youth Corps, would you make things difficult for them? Would you, even a little, smooth the way for them?”
Zhuo Xiaofeng gave a small nod.
Ning Yi tilted his head. “That’s just human nature — you make things a little easier for a relative, a little more formal for everyone else. I’d do the same, I can’t help it either. Including everyone who eventually ends up doing something wrong — gradually, as the friends and relatives around you multiply, they help lift you up, they can do you favors, and in turn they come to you more and more often asking for favors themselves. Some you can refuse, some you can’t — and the real pressure, more often than not, arrives in exactly this form. Even Cai Jing, at the height of his power over the entire court, likely started out through this very same process. We need to hold this concept clearly in our minds, so that we can stay alert to it.”
“That’s why I say — don’t declare anything. When you’re truly faced with these situations, it really is difficult, and I’m not asking you to achieve some pure, incorruptible impartiality. Where I think the key to this whole matter lies, personally, is in drawing the line clearly.” Ning Yi picked up a piece of chalk and drew a clear line on the blackboard, tapping a point on it. “Let’s start by drawing a line.”
“People will, over time, gradually push past the boundaries in their own hearts — because that line exists only inside them, and they’re the ones who decide where it sits. So what we need to do is draw that line clearly and explicitly. On one hand, of course, strengthening your own self-cultivation and self-discipline is important — but on the other hand, quite simply, we need a set of rules. With rules comes oversight, and with oversight comes an objective framework. I won’t be the one to give you this framework — I want most of it to come from yourselves.”
Ning Yi smiled faintly, turning his head slightly toward the window, filled with the golden light of the setting sun. “You’re the first generation of Small Azure River. We’re barely more than ten thousand people here, plus a few tens of thousands more at Green Wood Stockade — you’re the ones blazing the trail. Everyone knows our situation right now isn’t good, but if things do turn around one day, there’ll be a hundred thousand, a million, ten million people at Small Azure River and beyond, and many small groups like yours. So I’m thinking — since you’ve become this first generation, could we rely on you, together with me, to sit down and work out this framework together?”
“I have some thoughts of my own, though they’re not fully formed yet, and I hope you’ll bring your own thoughts too. I hope you can see, ahead of time, the mistakes you yourselves might make in the future, so we can seal off that possibility as early as possible — but without dampening the enthusiasm of these groups in the process. I want you to be the finest people in this army, in this valley — you can compete with one another, yet without excluding others; you can support your fellow members while still progressing together with your friends and rivals alike. And at the same time, the restraints needed to keep this from drifting in a bad direction — those, we have to forge ourselves…”
“If any of you have thoughts or opinions on this, feel free to share them with me right now…”
…
The sun sank further to the west, and an occasional breeze drifted through the riverside valley, stirring the treetops. The voices in the room, when they resumed, carried a good deal more caution, much slower than before. Before long, the young people emerged from the classroom, their expressions carrying confusion, excitement, and a faint, quiet resolve.
Whether they’d once followed the Sage-Duke or followed Ning Yi and the others into rebellion, it hadn’t been out of any particularly clear program of action — just some vague, half-formed impulse. But having spent this much time at Small Azure River, a certain idea had gradually taken shape in the minds of these relatively sharp young people, an idea Ning Yi had been quietly instilling through his everyday conversations: from now on, we absolutely cannot end up like the Wu Dynasty did.
Only with this clear concept in place could Ning Yi analyze certain problems with the group, seeking solutions together with them. Of course, it was precisely because they were young, full of drive, and their minds not yet set in old habits, that Ning Yi could attempt something like this — planting basic concepts such as separation of powers into their minds, hoping that through their own exploration, some small sprouts might eventually take root.
This process might well take a very long time. But simply handing things over outright would, in the end, mean nothing at all.
He walked out of the room, watching the young people head off into the distance, the setting sun now turned red. Walking off to the side, Chen Xing and the others could be heard murmuring, “We could cut our food rations in half these next few days…” What Ning Yi had said this afternoon gave them much to reflect on, but at the same time, it also served as encouragement, because Ning Yi had already acknowledged their legitimacy — and so they were now all the more eager to accomplish something worthwhile.
The group made their way toward one end of the valley; Ning Yi stood there watching for a moment, then headed with Chen Fan toward the mountain at the edge of the valley. His work every day was demanding, his time extremely precious; he met with several of the valley’s managers over dinner, and once night fell, there was yet another mountain of documents and paperwork waiting to be reviewed.
After working like this for more than an hour, with scattered points of firelight now visible across the distant valley outside and stars beginning to glimmer in the night sky, a young man named Xiao Hei walked in. “That envoy from Western Xia has grown tired of waiting — he says he’ll definitely leave tomorrow. General Qin sent me to ask whether you’d like to see him.”
Ning Yi thought for a moment. “Then have him come in.”
The envoy sent by the Western Xia to Small Azure River bore the Han name Lin Houxuan, and the Western Xia name Qunu Ze. He had already been waiting at Small Azure River for three days.
The Western Xia’s purpose in coming was simple enough — persuasion and inducement to surrender. Now that they held the upper hand, though they’d offered generous titles and rewards, the core demand — Small Azure River’s complete submission — remained unchanged. After looking into the matter briefly, Ning Yi had simply arranged for a few people to entertain the envoy, show him around, let him look at the sights, and otherwise avoided meeting with him personally.
But of course, he couldn’t avoid it entirely — that would look graceless.
While Xiao Hei went out to fetch the Western Xia envoy, the settlement area of Small Azure River was, in its own way, quite lively. With no rain these past two days, the mud around the plaza and the surrounding roads and ground had gradually dried up, and a group of children ran back and forth through the streets. This militarized little valley had no marketplace of the outside world’s sort, but on one side of the plaza there were still two small shops supplying various everyday goods, meant to serve the refugees who’d entered the valley over the winter, as well as the many military families now living here.
On one side of the small plaza sat several small venues for storytelling and performances, each serving a different purpose — one for staging various dramas, another combining acrobatics, magic tricks, and other forms of entertainment, and yet another where storytellers would relay news from the outside world to the crowd, with sessions held three times a day — morning, noon, and evening — occasionally incorporating commentary written by Ning Yi and others.
The Jurchens’ withdrawal from Bianliang, taking over a hundred thousand people captive with them, the countless tragedies unfolding along that road even now. Various current events from north of the Yellow River, the Western Xia’s advance beyond Hengshan, the fates of so many people. This kind of narration, much like a form of news broadcast from a later age, was, at present, the thing the people of the valley most often gathered to hear. After listening, some grew indignant, some frowned with anxiety, some discussed it in low voices — and sometimes, if young people like Chen Xing happened to be present, a small impromptu speech might follow on the back of current events, with people venting their frustration at the incompetent Wu court and the like.
Because places like these existed, certain emotions within Small Azure River were kept constantly simmering — a sense of urgency, of tension, never allowed to fully fade. And the periodic announcements of the valley’s construction progress, along with the steady stream of news from outside, also served, in many respects, as proof that everyone was working hard toward a solution — some inside the valley, some outside it, all striving to solve the problems Small Azure River faced.
In a wooden hut not far from the plaza, firelight lit the room brightly. Zhuo Xiaofeng sat frowning, writing in a notebook, while nearby, a group of young people gathered around a simple map, chattering away. Their voices weren’t loud, but the room felt lively all the same.
“…Given how things stand now, the Western Xia has already pushed forward to Qingzhou — it won’t be many more days before they take the city. Once that link is complete, the entire western route falls into chaos, and if we’re relying on commerce to solve our food problem, isn’t that going to become even harder…”
“The man Brother Xiao made contact with earlier was that Squire Lin Fuguang — leaving aside that this Lin fellow is currently sitting on the fence, even if he did agree to help, there’s no guarantee the western route would even stay open. Look — once the Western Xia takes this area…”
“The northern route doesn’t look promising either, from what I can tell — no one can even read the Jurchens’ intentions right now, the situation outside changes three times a day. How can you do business without any stability…”
“You can’t manage it, sure, none of us really understands how to run a business like this — but is Master Ning really the same as you and me…”
“Stop arguing, both of you. If you can’t figure it out, keep thinking on it. If we can keep up with Master Ning’s thinking, it’ll only benefit us down the road.”
“If it really can’t be done, worst case we just fight our way back to the Miao territory — there’s still a path there…”
“No spine at all. Look — isn’t there still the other side? The Wu Dynasty, the great landowning clans north of the Yellow River — they always stockpiled plenty of grain in the past. Even with the Jurchens sweeping through again, they’ll surely have hit bottom, but for now there’s still some left…”
“Those great clans are all officials, scholars — if it comes to working with the likes of us, I’d bet they’d rather throw in with the Jurchens…”
The air felt faintly stifling. Amid all the chatter, the hottest, most urgent topic at Small Azure River right now remained the food problem. Ning Yi had originally chosen this location wanting to connect with Green Wood Stockade, ultimately hoping to establish a foothold through commerce in this land contested from every direction — quite a few people had heard of this plan, and it sounded reasonable enough on the surface, but thinking it through in practice, it really was riddled with difficulties. Even now, even among the people closest to Zhuo Xiaofeng, the only real confidence anyone had in the plan rested entirely on Ning Yi himself.
We can’t figure it out ourselves, but maybe Master Ning will find a way, sooner or later, somehow?
After all, this wouldn’t be the first time something like this had happened.
Whether out of anxiety in their own hearts, or some intangible external pressure, on a night like this, quite a few people were quietly discussing and worrying over the valley’s food problem. If not for the considerable trust the various departments within the Wurui Camp and Bamboo Notes — inside and out — had come to place in one another, this kind of anxiety alone might well have been enough to crush the entire rebel system.
And even as everyone discussed this among themselves, when Lin Houxuan, the Western Xia envoy, finally met with Ning Yi, he too raised the matter directly, without preamble.
“…Before coming here, I already knew Master Ning had unique insight into matters of trade. With grain already growing scarce here, your hope to secure food by opening trade routes — I truly admire that. But the situation beyond these mountains has changed. The Wu Dynasty has fallen into decline, while our Western Xia advances southward, carrying out the mandate of Heaven itself — no one can stand in our way. My sovereign holds Master Ning’s talents in high regard. Having already killed the sovereign of the Wu Dynasty, this land can no longer hold you. Submit to Western Xia, and every problem you face will resolve itself at once. My sovereign has already prepared preliminary terms — the moment you nod your consent, tens of thousands of piculs of rice, pigs and sheep…”
The small chamber wasn’t especially bright. Lin Houxuan was a man in his thirties, dignified in appearance, fluent in the Han language — likely from a prominent Western Xia family himself; there was a certain reassuring, settling quality to the way he spoke. After inviting him to sit, Ning Yi poured tea for him at the side table, and Lin Houxuan took the opportunity to hold forth at length. But just as he reached this point, Ning Yi raised his hand slightly. “Please, have some tea.”
Lin Houxuan cupped his hands and took a sip from the teacup. From the moment he’d entered, he had also been quietly studying this young man across from him who had killed the Wu Dynasty’s sovereign. The man was young, but his gaze was calm, his movements simple, crisp, and forceful — beyond that, Lin Houxuan couldn’t immediately discern anything else remarkable about him. Only after the tea had been offered, once the cup had been set down, did Ning Yi speak: “I won’t agree to this.”
Lin Houxuan had meant to continue, but he paused now — he hadn’t expected the refusal to come so bluntly. “Master Ning… surely you don’t mean to hold out to the bitter end? Or perhaps you’d tell this humble official that all is well within these mountains, that you could last ten years here without anyone starving to death?”
Ning Yi shook his head, pouring him another cup of tea. “I know what you’re getting at. Negotiations between nations, between one territory and another, aren’t matters to be decided on emotion. I’ve simply weighed both sides’ bottom lines and concluded there’s no possibility of reaching an agreement here — so I’m asking you to go back and tell your sovereign that his terms, I won’t accept. Of course, if your country wishes to open a few trade routes through us, we’d welcome that. But it doesn’t seem likely, does it.”
Ning Yi said this all quite plainly, but with those few simple sentences, he’d effectively closed off every possible avenue. Lin Houxuan frowned. Had he not seen it with his own eyes and only heard of it secondhand, he might have thought this strange fellow — not even thirty years old, who had killed an emperor in a fit of rage — was simply acting on emotion. And yet, watching him now, the man showed not the slightest hint of irrationality; if anything, he seemed to regard the whole matter as perfectly reasonable.
He ran through the various possibilities in his mind, and finally, swallowing hard, said, “Then… Master Ning summoned me here — is there anything else you wished to say?”
“Out of courtesy.”
“Hm?”
“You’ve been here several days now, representing the ruler of an entire nation, wanting to see me. I know there’s nothing to discuss, and I’ve had matters at hand, which is why I declined to meet earlier. But you’re about to leave, and it wouldn’t be right for you to leave without a single meeting. That would be discourteous.”
Lin Houxuan sat stunned for a long moment. “Does Master Ning realize that in this southward advance, our nation and the Jurchens have a treaty between them?”
In the dim lamplight, he saw the man across from him raise an eyebrow slightly, gesturing for him to continue — but still appearing perfectly calm.
“Our sovereign personally negotiated with Marshal Zonghan’s special envoy, settling the plan to take the Wu Dynasty’s territory from the south.” He cupped his hands and spoke clearly. “I know Master Ning also has ties with Green Wood Stockade in the Lüliang Mountains — Green Wood Stockade not only trades with the south, but also maintains several lines of connection with Jurchen nobility to the north. Now that the Jurchen general Cibushi holds the region near Yanmen, Master Ning — if we hold the northwest firmly in our grip and the Jurchens cut off the northern route, would this Small Azure River of yours truly have any chance of surviving?”
Ning Yi opened his mouth, about to speak, but Lin Houxuan pressed on without waiting for him to respond. “My sovereign has no wish to resort to such measures. His Majesty is a man of extraordinary gifts, wise and militarily accomplished, one who recognizes and honors true heroes when he sees them. It’s precisely because His Majesty regards Master Ning as an outstanding figure of this age, and holds the people of this valley in equally high esteem as brave, worthy souls, that he extends this offer. Surely Master Ning doesn’t intend to simply watch them slowly starve to death?”
Ning Yi looked at him from across the table and smiled — a look that made Lin Houxuan deeply uncomfortable, because the man had carried himself the entire time as though looking upon a junior. Then he saw the man rise to his feet and raise a hand. “This position remains unchanged. Envoy Lin, please see yourself out.”
This time, Lin Houxuan sat stunned for even longer. “Master Ning, I truly don’t understand why.”
“The people of Huaxia do not submit to foreign powers. This position remains unchanged.”
“…What?”
“Please.” Ning Yi calmly raised his hand toward the door.
…
“Then… forgive my bluntness, Master Ning, but if you truly refuse this offer, what my side will do won’t stop at simply cutting off the trade routes between Small Azure River and Green Wood Stockade. The debt owed from earlier this year, between your three hundred elite foot-soldiers and Master Ning’s men — that won’t simply be forgotten either. Has Master Ning truly considered this?”
“Please.”
…
In the lamplight, Lin Houxuan’s face had flushed slightly red. At the same moment, the sound of a child crying drifted over from a nearby room.
…
After leaving the small courtyard where Ning Yi resided, Lin Houxuan’s face and head still felt hot with anger. He knew this mission had no chance of succeeding now — he simply still didn’t understand why.
This confusion wasn’t really about Ning Yi’s refusal itself. It wasn’t uncommon for people of the Central Plains to cling stubbornly to the name of Huaxia, preferring death to submission to a foreign people — plenty of people were willing to hold out to the bitter end, at least until the blade actually came down on their necks. What he couldn’t understand was what exactly he himself had failed to account for.
The man’s calm demeanor gave no hint whatsoever that he was discussing a matter of life and death. Lin Houxuan had been born into Western Xia nobility, and had seen no shortage of great figures who remained unmoved even as mountains crumbled before them, or seasoned generals who’d weathered countless battles and regarded life and death as nothing at all. But facing a crisis of this magnitude, to casually seal off every possible way out while remaining this calm — that wasn’t composure at all, that was madness, plain and simple.
Unless — he didn’t believe this was a dead end at all.
What had he himself failed to account for?
Filled with confusion, he looked back toward the small courtyard halfway up the mountainside, its warm yellow lamplight still glowing, then toward the bustling settlement not far off, and further still, toward the reservoir ringed by scattered lights. The spirit that pervaded this valley was unlike anything he’d encountered elsewhere — these were warriors his sovereign would surely admire and find use for, and yet they truly did stand at the very edge of catastrophe…
He made his way back to his lodgings, and once he’d gathered with a few of his attendants, had them bring out the map, poring over it again and again. The situation to the north, the situation to the west… had something significant changed outside these past two days? Or did Green Wood Stockade hold some unimaginably vast stockpile of grain? Even if they had no food problem at all, how could they show such utter unconcern at the prospect of war being declared against them? Was it all bravado, or were they hoping to extract more promises and concessions from him?
Like so many others, in this moment, Lin Houxuan too found himself unable to make sense of how Small Azure River meant to solve this impossible predicament. The world had reached the very brink of total collapse; every faction seeking to survive now had to exert every effort, hold nothing back. This small army in the mountains, clearly facing such an overwhelming crisis — how could the man in charge of it appear so utterly nonchalant?
For a moment he found himself dwelling on the Inner Demon’s notorious reputation, and for a moment he doubted his own judgment. By the time he left Small Azure River the next day, this mood had hardened entirely into frustration and hostility.
This mission had failed, and he certainly wouldn’t return home to any merit or reward for it — but regardless, there could be no way out for this place. That Inner Demon Ning Yi, who’d flown into a rage and killed an emperor, truly was a madman after all. If he wanted to die, then so be it — let them all die—