“I’ve been thinking for several days now about the matter of grain in the valley. I have an idea — I wanted to speak with Master Ning about it privately.”

It was nearly noon, and the scent of cooking rice already drifted through the small courtyard halfway up the mountainside. Having entered the study, Luo Ye, dressed in his military uniform, stood up after Ning Yi’s inquiry and said these words. Ning Yi tilted his head slightly, considering this, then waved a hand. “Sit.” Luo Ye sat back down.

As the saying goes, birds of a feather flock together, and people of like mind gather as one. Ever since Ning Yi and the others had gradually settled in at Small Azure River, small societies had begun springing up within the army beyond the Yongle Youth Corps and the Righteous Spirit Society. The Huayan Society was among the most open and above-board of these, its name having emerged after Ning Yi first introduced the term “Huaxia.”

The members of this group were mostly young, lower-tier officers within the Wurui Camp. As its founder, Luo Ye himself was an outstanding soldier — though he currently commanded only a squad of a dozen or so men, he came from a wealthy family, had received some education, and possessed considerable eloquence and insight. Ning Yi had already taken note of him some time ago.

“If I remember correctly, Brother Luo, back in the capital, your family was quite well-off.” He paused briefly, then looked up.

Luo Ye sat perfectly straight across from him, not shying away from the topic. “The Luo family, back in the capital, had considerable business interests — dealings on both the legitimate and underworld sides. Now… with the Jurchen siege, I imagine it’s all fallen into Jurchen hands by this point.”

“But when the Wurui Camp rose up, you were among the first to follow.”

“As I’ve said, the Luo family, in the capital, had connections on both sides of the law. Among my brothers, I was the least accomplished — I never managed to succeed at my studies as a child, but I was reckless and fond of fighting, always eager to right some perceived wrong, and often got myself into trouble because of it. Once I came of age, my father sought connections to place me in the army, hoping that after a few years I’d rise through the ranks and could use my position to help further the family’s business. At first, he placed me in the Wusheng Army, entrusted to the care of a superior with the right connections. I’d risen two ranks when the Jurchens swept south.”

The young man named Luo Ye spoke with firm resolve, without a moment’s hesitation. “Later, following the Wusheng Army as it made its way to the outskirts of Bianliang, that night we were ambushed — ran into Jurchen cavalry, and the whole army collapsed. I led the men under me to seek refuge at Xia Village, and was later folded into the Wurui Camp… I’ve been headstrong by nature since childhood, and many things about my family always left me feeling stifled and resentful — but where you’re born is a matter of fate, not something you can choose. It was only during that time at Xia Village that I truly came to understand just how rotten this world had become, and why we kept fighting, and kept losing, battle after battle.”

“…At the time, after that battle turned out the way it did, and the Qin family later fell from grace — the Right Chancellor, General Qin, suffering such unjust wrongs — others might not have understood the reasoning behind it, but I did. I also understood that if the Jurchens came south again, Bianliang would have no chance of surviving. I couldn’t persuade my own family to see reason, but in a world like this, I already knew what I had to do.”

He said all this in one breath, then paused. “And besides, at the time, for my father, if Bianliang truly did fall and the Jurchens sacked the city, at least I’d have preserved a line of the Luo family’s blood elsewhere. And looking further ahead, if my choice were ever proven right, perhaps… perhaps I could even help save the Luo family one day. Only now, as things stand…”

These were likely thoughts he’d turned over in his mind many times before; by the last few sentences, his words had grown noticeably more difficult. Blood is thicker than water, as the saying goes — he’d looked down on his own family’s conduct and had thrown in his lot with the Wurui Camp’s rebellion without a second thought, but that didn’t mean, deep down, he actually wished for anything to happen to his family.

Yet Bianliang’s fall was already half a year in the past by now, and in the time since, the Jurchens had plundered and slaughtered mercilessly, seizing vast numbers of women and craftsmen to be marched north. There was no telling whether Luo Ye’s family might be among them. Once that thought crossed anyone’s mind, there was no way to feel anything but heavy-hearted.

He didn’t finish that last sentence. Ning Yi nodded and pushed the teacup toward him. “As for what happened in Bianliang — if your family managed to survive, there may yet be a turn for the better down the line. Try to ease your heart on this.”

Luo Ye sat there and shook his head. “The Wu Dynasty has fallen this far, and as Master Ning has said, everyone bears some part of the responsibility for it. The Luo family must bear its share of that reckoning too. Having already come this far, I’ve already staked my life on it, seeking only to find a way through — as for matters concerning my family, I no longer let them weigh on me.”

Ning Yi looked at him with a smile, and after a moment, nodded slowly, saying nothing further on the matter. “Understood. Now, Brother Luo, you mentioned earlier having an idea about the grain situation — what would that be?”

Luo Ye straightened his posture. “As I mentioned, the Luo family once had connections on both sides of the law. In my youth, I accompanied my father on visits to a number of prominent households. Thinking on it now — though the Jurchens have swept as far as Bianliang, much of the territory north of the Yellow River has, after all, gone untouched by the fighting, and the great households in those areas will still have several years’ worth of stored grain. Thinking back on it, near Huoyi in Pingyang Prefecture, there’s a prominent household headed by a man named Huo Ting, Squire Huo. He holds sway over that region, owns vast stretches of fertile land, and has connections on both the legitimate and underworld sides. The Jurchens haven’t actually reached that far yet, but with the region north of the Yellow River in such turmoil, he’s surely searching for a way forward of his own by now.”

“I once accompanied my father to meet this Huo Ting — he came to the capital several times and even stayed at the Luo residence for a time, so we’re on reasonably good terms. I think, if I were to go and persuade this Squire Huo myself, I might be able to convince him to place himself under Small Azure River’s protection. If he agrees, the valley’s grain shortage could be considerably eased.”

Small Azure River’s food problem had never been concealed internally; everyone in the valley carried this worry, and anyone with the capacity to think it through had likely turned the problem over in their minds more than once — no doubt quite a few had come seeking Ning Yi’s counsel with ideas of their own. Once Luo Ye finished speaking, the room fell silent for a moment; Ning Yi’s expression grew thoughtful, his fingers interlaced, and after considering it a while, he reached for paper and brush. “Pingyang Prefecture, Huoyi, Squire Huo Ting…”

He wrote the names down, then stood and turned toward the bookshelves and wooden chests at the back of the study, rummaging for a moment before pulling out a thin file and returning to his seat. “Squire Huo Ting — yes, indeed. During the great famine north of the region in the eleventh year of the Jinghan reign, his name does appear in the records. Near Huoyi, he’s genuinely one of the region’s wealthiest men, one of the top grain merchants in the area. With his backing, feeding a population of one or two hundred thousand wouldn’t be much of a problem.”

Luo Ye said, “This man’s conduct hasn’t always been entirely upright, but given the current state of things, that needn’t rule out cooperation. Furthermore, if Master Ning is so inclined, I could act as an inside contact — I could find out the true state of the Huo family’s affairs, and if Small Azure River were to send troops to take the Huo family by force, the grain problem could be solved outright.”

Coming from an underworld background himself, though his reasons for joining the Wurui Camp’s uprising had been genuinely upright and resolute, he wasn’t, at his core, above ruthless methods either. Having said this much, he added, “I know this isn’t the cleanest approach, but having already broken with the Wu Dynasty, I feel we shouldn’t hold back too much when it comes to matters like this — when we hit an obstacle, we still have to get past it, one way or another. Of course, whether this is ultimately worth doing is for Master Ning and the generals overseeing the bigger picture to decide — I simply felt it necessary to bring it up, so Master Ning would be aware of it, for whatever it’s worth.”

“You’ve got everyone’s best interests at heart.” Ning Yi nodded with a smile, then added, “This is a genuinely valuable proposal — I’ll bring it before the strategy council for discussion. If it truly comes down to it, I’m no paragon of virtue myself, Brother Luo, so you needn’t worry on that account.”

Luo Ye’s habitually serious expression finally softened into a slight smile. He pressed his hands to his thighs and lifted his head a little. “I’ve finished reporting what I came to say. I won’t keep you any longer, Master Ning — I’ll take my leave now.” With that, he made to stand, but Ning Yi waved a hand. “Ah, wait a moment.”

Luo Ye sat back down. Ning Yi said, “There’s something I’d like to talk over with you, Brother Luo.”

Watching Luo Ye straighten up again, Ning Yi smiled, leaned in toward the tea table, and fell silent for a moment. “Brother Luo — regarding those from Bamboo Notes before… comrades, I suppose we could call them — do you have confidence in them?”

Luo Ye frowned. “I would never, out of…”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean.” Ning Yi waved his hand, speaking earnestly. “I have absolute confidence in Brother Luo’s sincerity and genuine passion for matters within the army. Brother Luo, please believe me — I’m only asking this out of a desire to understand some of the more common sentiments within the army. I’d like you to talk with me about this as objectively as you can — it matters a great deal for how we proceed from here.”

Luo Ye hesitated for a moment before nodding. “As for… the veterans of Bamboo Notes, I naturally have confidence in them.”

“But when it comes to whether they can actually solve the food problem, I still have some reservations.”

“…The matter’s still unresolved, so it’s hard to say for certain either way — I know the veterans of Bamboo Notes are highly capable people, but… I also think, having one more piece of information, one more possible path to choose from, can only broaden our options.”

“…I don’t have a great deal of confidence that they can solve this. Honestly, I don’t have much confidence that I can solve it myself, either.” Ning Yi looked at him and smiled, then after a moment, his gaze grew solemn as he slowly rose to his feet and looked out the window. “Bamboo Notes’ former stewards, along with those with real potential in business, negotiation, and strategic planning — two hundred and twenty-five people in total. Divided into groups, along with the guards accompanying them, we currently have just over twelve hundred people deployed out there, each with their own assigned task. But as for whether we can successfully open up a trade route connecting all the relevant parties, whether we can untangle the complicated web of relationships in this region — I don’t have confidence in that. At least, up to now, I still can’t see a clear picture of how it would work.”

“But I believe effort is never wasted.” Ning Yi spoke slowly, almost word by word. “I’ve been through many things before that, at first glance, looked like dead ends. Many times, at the very start, I couldn’t see any path forward either. But retreating was never an option, so all I could do was slowly attend to whatever was within my power, pushing things forward bit by bit. And often, as our resources and options kept accumulating, more and more, an unexpected path would eventually appear before us… Of course, having said all that, I do hope some clear path will suddenly reveal itself ahead of us. But at the same time… what I’m counting on isn’t only them.”

Luo Ye sat up straight, his gaze somewhat puzzled, but clearly making an effort to follow what Ning Yi was saying. Ning Yi turned back to face him. “Altogether, we have over ten thousand people here, and including Green Wood Stockade, several tens of thousands — not just the twelve hundred.”

“Brother Luo, I’ve told everyone before why the Wu Dynasty’s armies could never win against their enemies. My bold analysis is this: because they all knew exactly what kind of people the men beside them really were — they couldn’t trust the people around them at all. But here at Small Azure River, over ten thousand of us, facing a crisis this enormous — even with everyone knowing full well what danger we’re in — why hasn’t the whole thing simply fallen apart? Because you’re all, to some degree, willing to trust that the twelve hundred out there working hard on our behalf will come through. And those twelve hundred? They, too, are willing to trust that even if they personally can’t solve the problem, with this many trustworthy people all working toward it together, a path will very likely be found. That, in truth, is the single greatest difference between us and the armies of the Wu Dynasty — and it’s the most valuable thing among us, to this very day.”

Luo Ye’s eyes flickered, and he gave a small nod. Ning Yi paused, looking at him. “So, Brother Luo, here’s what I want to say: suppose, one day, our grain stores run out entirely, and all twelve hundred of our brothers out there fail in their mission — would we be left with no way forward at all?”

Luo Ye lifted his head, his gaze turning resolute. “Of course not.”

“Of course not!” Ning Yi swept his hand out sharply. “We still have nine thousand more soldiers! And that’s you! Brother Luo — the twelve hundred men out beyond these mountains, working so hard to accomplish their mission — the reason they have the drive to keep going isn’t just something within themselves. Part of it comes from knowing there are nine thousand brothers back here in the valley, and that because of your training, because of your strength, you’re all formidable.”

“If, one day, they were to fail — you would, of course, be the ones to solve this!”

“Yes!” Luo Ye straightened his shoulders slightly.

“In any system, everyone has their own role to play, and it’s only when each person does their own job well that the system as a whole can be at its strongest. As for the grain situation — plenty of people have been worried about it lately. For a soldier, having concerns is both a good thing and a bad thing. The pressure it creates is good. Despairing over it is bad. Brother Luo, that you came here today — I know it’s not out of despair, but out of the pressure you feel. But even so, I believe that in the hearts of many others, there’s still no real sense of certainty.”

Luo Ye lowered his head, thinking this over. Ning Yi waited a moment. “A soldier’s worry has one precondition: no matter what he faces, he knows he can draw his blade and charge straight into it! Once that precondition is in place, we can look for all kinds of ways to minimize our losses and solve the problem.”

“Master Ning, I…” Luo Ye lowered his head and stood. Ning Yi shook his head, his expression turning serious as he clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Brother Luo, I’m speaking to you with complete sincerity — please believe me, what you came here to tell me today is genuinely valuable. Under no circumstances would I ever turn away information like this, and I never want you to hold something like this back in the future without telling me. The reason I’m laying all this out for you is that you’re the head of the Huayan Society — I want to recruit you, if you will.”

Ning Yi went on, “Of course, taking on this role won’t come with any special benefits, and I won’t be granting you any extra authority either. But you have quite a few people around you who are willing to talk things through with you, and the core spirit of this army must always be: ‘draw the blade, and it can cut through anything.’ Whatever we face, the first thing must always be — are we able to fight it. What the twelve hundred can’t solve, you nine thousand can. What proves difficult for the nine thousand, those twelve hundred can help with. This way, whatever problem we face, we have two, even three layers of insurance. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I… understand.”

“So, truthfully, I love the idea of everyone having the ability to think independently, the way you do — but I’m also wary of its side effects.” Ning Yi tilted his head and laughed.

Luo Ye stood up. “I’ll go back and train hard, and make sure I do my part well!”

Outside the window, a light breeze stirred the leaves, sunlight filtering down through the gaps in the branches. It was midday now, and the smell of cooking food had already begun drifting through the air. Ning Yi nodded in the room.

“Stay for lunch.”

…

At that very same moment, on a desolate mountainside a dozen or so li from Small Azure River, a group of a dozen or so people was making its way across the mountains, braving the midday sun.

Their pace was quick. Rounding a ridge, they headed toward a mountain ravine. The terrain here was strewn with strange, twisted trees and scattered rubble, wild and treacherous. Partway through, the lead guide suddenly stopped and spoke a few words as a signal; from the shadows, another voice answered back. Once the countersign had been exchanged, someone emerged from behind the rocks and watched them warily.

Most of the group were dressed as mountain folk or hunters, but their movements were clearly not those of ordinary men; several among them carried an unmistakable air of officialdom. They pressed on a little further, descending into the shadowed ravine, where the former Ministry of Justice chief constable Tie Tianying emerged from a cave with his subordinates to meet them.

The one leading the newly arrived group wore a hooded cloak; he handed over a document for Tie Tianying to examine, and only then slowly lowered his hood.

Light streaking down through a gap in the rocks illuminated the newcomer’s pale, gaunt face. Tie Tianying looked at him, brows furrowed tight.

“What’s going on with the court? They actually sent you here!?”

“You now fall under my authority — mind your manners.”

Ravaged by the light seeping through the cracks above, the man’s pale, gaunt face came into view; he looked at Tie Tianying with a quiet gaze that also carried a trace of melancholy. “The court has decided to relocate south. Lord Tan sent me here to continue the work of exterminating the traitors alongside all of you. Of course, if Master Tie doesn’t accept this, you’re welcome to go verify it for yourself.”

Tie Tianying looked at him, and after a moment, gave a cold snort. “They put you in charge of this, hmph. You’re all disciples of Qin Siyuan — if not for a teacher like him, how would we have ended up with a traitor like this today! What on earth are the people in the capital thinking!”

His words carried clear displeasure, but he didn’t, in the end, question the authenticity of the man’s credentials. The gaunt man before him seemed to recall something from the past, a flicker of pain crossing his eyes; he coughed twice. “Master Tie, your read on the traitor’s mind has been remarkably prescient — but you’ve gotten one thing wrong. That Ning Yi was never Chancellor Qin’s disciple. They were peers, treating each other as equals. I myself was promoted by the elder Chancellor Qin, but even I could hardly be called his disciple.”

Tie Tianying’s expression froze for a moment. The other man raised a hand to his mouth and coughed a few more times — a lingering ailment from the war he’d once fought in, one that had followed him through this past year and more of hardship, never fully healing. After the coughing fit passed, he continued, “I also have something I’d like to ask Master Tie. You’ve been up here in the north for half a year now — why have you remained hovering in this same area all this time, without taking any action?”

Tie Tianying’s brow furrowed slightly, his gaze turning sharp and cold. “Lord Li certainly carries himself with great authority. Coming all this way — are you here to interrogate me, then?”

“Not to interrogate you at all. It’s only that, though I haven’t known him for very long, I do have some understanding of the way he operates — and on this trip north, a friend of mine named Cheng Zhouhai also gave me some words of caution. Ning Yi, Ning Liheng — though he often acts on brilliant, unconventional schemes, in truth, this is more a matter of weary, reluctant necessity. What he’s truly skilled at is strategic planning and calculation — the principle he holds in highest regard is that the truly skilled warrior earns no dazzling glory. While his position is still unsteady, you might still find some opening against him — but the longer time passes, the more solid his foundation will grow, and if you give him enough time, one day he’ll come pressing back against you with the full weight of momentum on his side, and… cough… I fear… cough, cough, cough… this realm, already shattered as it is, has few left who could withstand that…”

Sunlight fell across his face as Li Pin — Li Dexin — broke into another violent fit of coughing. After a while, he straightened slightly.

“So… Master Tie, let’s not keep suspecting one another. You’ve been here this long — please, tell me what the situation in these mountains truly looks like…”