By the time they returned to the small courtyard halfway up the mountain, quite a crowd had already gathered, both inside and out.
Ning Yi walked into the courtyard and glanced toward the room — Tan’er had already returned, sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at Ning Xi lying there, her face ashen, while little Ning Xi, his head wrapped in bandages, stammered out some explanation to his mother. Ning Yi exchanged a few words with the physician at the door, and only then did his expression ease somewhat as he stepped inside.
“Father.” Ning Xi, from the head of the bed, looked at him, lips slightly pouting. “I really was just trying to catch the rabbit… I almost had it…”
Ning Yi walked over, pinched his cheek gently, then looked at the bandage on his head. “Does it hurt?”
“It didn’t hurt at first. It hurts a little now.”
“It’ll be fine.” Ning Yi smiled, then waved toward the doorway. “The physician already said it’s nothing serious — why did everyone come running over! Ning Xi, look who’s come to see you.”
“Grandfather Zuo.” Ning Xi bowed slightly toward the old man who’d followed in. Zuo Duanyou’s expression was stern; even at dinner the night before, he hadn’t shown much warmth toward Ning Xi — but now, he simply couldn’t keep up the stern face any longer. He came forward and put a hand on Ning Xi’s shoulder, easing him back down. “Don’t move, don’t move. What happened, exactly?”
“Min Chuyi and I went to gather wild greens — we had guests at home and not much food, so we found a rabbit and I tried to catch it. Then I fell and hit my head… I had the rabbit, it was this big, but I fell and scared Min Chuyi, and the rabbit got away…”
The boy told the story with his hands gesturing, looking rather dejected. To finally catch a rabbit, only to fall and hurt himself, and have Min Chuyi let it go in the fright — all that effort for nothing.
Zuo Duanyou glanced back at Ning Yi, who was, at that moment, comforting Su Tan’er. “Boys tumble and scrape themselves up — that’s how they grow into something one day. The physician said it’s nothing to worry about.” He then went over to the side, offering a few words of comfort to the female soldier, who looked thoroughly guilt-ridden. “Children need their own space. I was the one who told you not to stay too close — this isn’t your fault, don’t blame yourself.”
This little disturbance gradually faded away after that. Small Azure River’s atmosphere seemed tranquil on the surface, but underneath ran a real tension — the internal grain shortage was one problem, and beyond the valley’s borders, all manner of enemies kept close watch on this place as well; no one spoke of it openly, but everyone kept it well in mind. When Ning Xi’s accident happened so suddenly, some had assumed the outside enemies had finally made their move, and had come running to check. Once it became clear that wasn’t the case, they dispersed.
Little Ning Xi, blood on his head, held out for a while before finally, exhausted, drifting off to sleep. Ning Yi saw Zuo Duanyou out and then went to attend to other matters. The old man, accompanied by his attendants, walked along the mountainside of Small Azure River; it was afternoon now, and in the slanted sunlight, the sounds of training in the valley drifted over now and then. Construction sites bustled with activity everywhere, figures moving briskly about. Far off in the reservoir, a few small boats were casting nets, and people fished along the water’s edge as well — all efforts to catch fish to help fill the valley’s food shortfall.
Seen from a distance, all of this looked ordinary enough — but there was, in truth, an atmosphere brewing here unlike anywhere else. Tension, a sense of crisis, and some strange quality that seemed to contradict that very tension and crisis all at once. The old man had seen much of the world in his time, but he still couldn’t work out the reason behind Ning Yi’s refusal to cooperate with the Zuo family.
As the patriarch of a great family whose roots spread throughout the entire Hedong Circuit, he had, of course, come to Small Azure River with considerations of self-interest in mind. But on the other hand, that he’d already begun laying the groundwork to make contact with this place the previous year owed a great deal to his friendship with Qin Siyuan. Even if he did have some requests of Small Azure River, he certainly wouldn’t push them to an unreasonable extent — surely the other side could see that much too. It was precisely with this in mind that the old man had chosen to raise the matter himself today.
Simply to avoid the Zuo family attaching conditions? Was that reason enough to refuse so flatly, so completely? Did he truly believe he had some other way out? This place… was quite plainly already walking along the edge of a cliff.
Mulling this over in his mind, he had his attendants go find the mole he’d originally arranged to place inside Small Azure River, to question him thoroughly and confirm the reality of the valley’s grain shortage — but this only deepened his confusion further still.
Yet at this moment, in the valley, certain things were quietly unfolding, in places he neither knew of nor paid much attention to.
To supplement the soldiers’ daily meat rations, the valley had already ordered the kitchens to begin slaughtering warhorses. That evening, a soldier found small shreds of horse meat mixed into his dish; word of this spread quickly, and within moments nearly half the mess hall had fallen silent. Then one soldier, apparently a leader among them, set down his bowl and chopsticks on the counter and demanded, “How can we be killing horses?”
Quite a few others set down their chopsticks at this too. Someone said, “Has it really come to this in the valley? Even if we go hungry, we don’t want to eat horse meat!”
“We don’t need meat with every meal! We’re used to hardship — wild greens and tree bark, we can eat that too!” someone else agreed.
Anxiety and unease spread through the crowd, but fortunately, order in the mess hall never truly broke down. Moments after the incident began, the officer He Zhicheng arrived on the scene. “We treat you like human beings, and you still can’t be satisfied!?”
Discipline within the army held firm, and before long he’d brought the matter under control. At the same time, on the other side of the room facing the mess hall, a group of young soldiers carrying blades and spears marched into the barracks, seeking out Luo Ye, founder of the Huayan Society, whom they trusted a great deal at this point.
“Brother Luo, have you heard what happened today?”
Luo Ye, just back from training, drenched in sweat, turned to look at them. “What happened? What are you all up to?”
“Something’s happened to Master Ning’s eldest son — heard there was blood spilled up in the mountains. We think maybe those cowards outside the valley finally couldn’t hold back anymore and made their move!”
The group’s spirits ran high, their eyes red with fervor. Luo Ye frowned. “I did hear Young Master Ning Xi got hurt — just bumped his head chasing a rabbit. What are you all planning to do about it? And even setting that aside — even if something really had happened, is it your place to decide whether to act on it?”
The group froze for a moment, and one of them said, “We really can’t hold back any longer. If enemies really are attacking from outside the valley, we have to do something. Brother Luo, would you speak for us and ask Master Ning to let us fight!”
“You’ve all lost your heads!” Luo Ye said sharply. “And besides, none of this even happened — who exactly are you planning to fight! Talking about great undertakings while acting this reckless — calm yourselves down.”
The group, having heard something had happened, hadn’t stopped to think it through and had all come rushing over eagerly. Now, realizing it was just a rumor, the mood cooled gradually, everyone glancing at one another, feeling somewhat embarrassed. One of them slapped his blade down on the table with a clang and sighed. “What is there to do about anything, really. Watching the valley run short on grain day after day, we… we want to do something, but there’s nowhere to even start. I heard… they killed two horses today…”
Mentioning the horse-slaughtering left him dejected. Luo Ye, only just hearing of this himself, frowned slightly. Another sighed as well. “Yeah, this grain business — who knows what can even be done about it.”
“You don’t trust General Qin and Master Ning?” Luo Ye said. “Not a single one of the leaders up there has slacked off for even a day.”
“Of course it’s not that we don’t trust them — it’s just, seeing them slaughter warhorses now, it worries us too. If all the warhorses get killed, how will we even fight anyone? And you, Brother Luo — you said before you had connections with some great family out there, that you could try something. But after you talked to Master Ning about it, you never mentioned it again. If you know something, tell us too…”
“I have some guesses, but it’s not something I can just say.” Luo Ye shook his head. “In any case, all of you should just focus on training hard as usual — the higher-ups will find a solution!”
“Who here has ever slacked off on training!”
“Right, and with all this anxious waiting, honestly I think… we might as well just go fight. Now they’ve started killing horses — even if Master Ning still has some brilliant plan, I just… ugh, I still feel restless about it…”
“Brother Luo, if you know something, just tell us — we won’t go spreading it around.”
“How could I possibly know everything Master Ning and the others are planning? I’ve just had some guesses these past few days, and whether they’re right or wrong is still uncertain.” Amid the clamor of voices, Luo Ye frowned and spoke in a low, firm tone. “But my guess is, this whole matter will come to a head within the next few days—”
The commotion in the barracks continued on for a while longer. Throughout the valley, blanketed in unbearable summer heat, similar scenes were playing out here and there.
The old man up in his room, having heard some of these detailed reports, found his conviction only strengthened that Small Azure River’s grain shortage was no fabrication. Meanwhile, all these scattered, trivial incidents were, day by day, compiled into reports both long and short, sorted and categorized, and passed along to the handful of leaders now at the top of Small Azure River’s hierarchy. Every evening at sunset, Ning Yi, Su Tan’er, Qin Shaoqian, and the others would gather briefly at their workplace to discuss the significance behind this information — and on this particular day, because of what had happened to Ning Xi, Tan’er’s expression could hardly be called cheerful.
Certain matters were decided; Qin Shaoqian took his leave, while Ning Yi and Su Tan’er sat down together for a simple dinner. Ning Yi comforted his wife, and with only the two of them together, Su Tan’er’s expression softened into something more vulnerable; she nodded and leaned into her husband’s arms.
As the sun sank lower, the last light draining from the sky, Zuo Duanyou, having eaten dinner in Qin Shaoqian’s company, came out for a walk up the mountainside and crossed paths with Ning Yi, who was making his way back along the mountain path. For some reason, Ning Yi had changed into a fresh set of clothes; he cupped his hands with a smile. “I trust the old sir is in good health.”
Zuo Duanyou looked at him. “Does Young Master Ning have other business to attend to?”
“There’s something this evening, but for now I’m free.”
“Then walk with this old man a while.”
“Of course.” Ning Yi spread his hands. “After you, Lord Zuo.”
Along the mountain path, the night wind stirring, the two of them walked one after the other, Zuo Duanyou leaning on his cane. After walking for a while, he spoke slowly — this time, his tone considerably gentler than before. “Over all these years, this old man has always believed that whoever holds authority over a place must never act on impulse.”
Beside him, Ning Yi nodded respectfully.
“This afternoon, when I spoke up, I believed there was little left to discuss. And yet now, I find myself simply curious — Liheng, in what you said today, how much of it, would you say, came from acting on impulse?”
“…Not even one part in ten.”
“This old man thought the same. Which makes me all the more curious.”
Zuo Duanyou continued forward, leaning on his cane.
“The valley’s grain shortage isn’t a lie.”
“It isn’t.”
“The Jurchens have sealed off the north, the Western Xia surrounds the southwest — as far as this old man knows, no one within the Wu Dynasty yet dares deal privately with this place of yours. Your Green Wood Stockade has had every trade route cut off as well, powerless to do anything about it. Is any of this information incorrect?”
Ning Yi fell silent for a moment. “We’ve sent people out; based on earlier intelligence, we’ve brokered a few deals with certain great households — some successful, fair trades, though the returns are modest. As for those willing to help privately, it’s not that there are none — a few families have taken the risk to come and negotiate cooperation, but their demands were exorbitant, and we refused. Green Wood Stockade is under enormous pressure, but can hold on for now — Cibushi is busy arranging for the autumn harvest and hasn’t had time to attend to this stretch of desolate mountains yet. But regardless… none of that is wrong.”
“Are you afraid my Zuo family would make exorbitant demands as well?”
“Not at all,” Ning Yi answered.
“Good.” Zuo Duanyou nodded. “So — with no path forward, you still refuse this old man, and yet you’re not acting on impulse either. Put these things together, and it becomes quite strange indeed. Stranger still — if you have no intention of doing business with me, why spend so much of your time accompanying me around? If it’s simply out of some regard for Old Qin, you needn’t go to such lengths. Showing excessive courtesy toward someone always implies some request behind it — your behavior contradicts itself. Either this old man has genuinely missed something, or you’re deceiving me. Which is it — will you admit to that?”
Though advanced in years, he remained sharp in logic and fluent in speech, white hair notwithstanding — clear evidence of the commanding presence he must have carried in his prime. And Ning Yi’s answer came without much hesitation.
“The old sir has thought this through very clearly.” He smiled calmly, admitting it plainly. “My accompanying you comes partly from a junior’s genuine regard, and partly because Lord Zuo’s visit came at a rather fitting moment — I wanted to leave you with something to remember.”
“Oh? Something to remember?”
“Yes. One day in the future, when the Jurchens hold the entire territory north of the Yangtze, when power has shifted and the common people suffer under it, and the Zuo family faces its own collapse and ruin — I hope the Zuo family’s descendants will remember that a place called Small Azure River once existed.”
Ning Yi spoke calmly, as though describing something entirely simple, yet every word landed like a needle piercing straight to the heart. Zuo Duanyou’s brow furrowed, a flash of anger crossing his eyes once more, but Ning Yi, walking beside him, reached out to support his arm, and the two continued their slow walk forward together.
“Please don’t be angry, Lord Zuo. That you came to Small Azure River at all, at a time like this — I truly admire your courage and resolve. Because of the bond of favor owed to Chancellor Qin, Small Azure River won’t do anything untoward to you. And what I’ve said just now comes entirely from the heart. We may not have many more chances to speak like this, so I’ve simply told you what I truly think. You’re a great Confucian scholar of this age, one who’s read countless people in your time — whether what I’ve said is idle talk or deception, you can take your time deciding for yourself later. There’s no need to rush to judgment now.”
“…Oh? How do you mean?”
“The Jurchens’ withdrawal north, the court’s move south, the abandonment of everything north of the Yellow River to the Jurchens — these are already settled matters. The Zuo family, a great clan of Hedong with deep roots, will still face uncertain upheaval once the Jurchens arrive — no one can say for sure how it will unfold. They’re not a people who follow rules of civility — or at least, not yet, not for now. To govern Hedong, they could cooperate with the Zuo family, or they could slaughter their way through Hedong first and negotiate submission afterward. At a time like this, it’s entirely natural for you, old sir, to seek a secure path forward for your kin.”
Zuo Duanyou’s gaze remained steady, saying nothing.
“As for how to find that path forward — that’s too large a matter to discuss fully here. But one thing is certain: Small Azure River isn’t your first choice, nor even a secondary one — surely you don’t expect us to stand between the Zuo family and the Jurchens when they come. But you came here yourself. You didn’t know me before, and you and Shaoqian hadn’t seen each other in years — that you chose to come here personally owes, in large part, to your friendship with Chancellor Qin. Your coming here carries several possibilities: either we reach an agreement and Small Azure River secretly becomes a support for your Zuo family, or we fail to agree and you return home safely, or you’re kept here as a hostage and we demand grain from the Zuo family to ransom you back, or — the most troublesome possibility of all — you’re killed here. And throughout all this, there’s also the risk that word of your visit here reaches the court or other great families. In short, this was, on balance, a losing proposition.”
“And knowing all these risks, you still came. I can promise you this — you will absolutely return home safely. You are a man worthy of respect. But at the same time, one thing is certain: whatever terms you propose from the Zuo family’s position, Small Azure River will not accept them. This isn’t deception on my part — this is simply a matter of principle.”
Zuo Duanyou’s expression remained unchanged. “Oh? And why is that?”
“The reason the Wu Dynasty has come to its present state — men like your cousin Zuo Houwen and your grandson Zuo Jilan are a major cause of it. Would Lord Zuo agree with me saying so?”
With a sharp crack, Zuo Duanyou’s cane struck the ground. He turned to look at Ning Yi, his gaze blazing, his expression like that of a tiger about to choose its prey and devour it.
“So — at least for now, and for as long a stretch of time as I can still keep control over things, Small Azure River will not allow such men any say in our affairs. Not a single word.” Ning Yi, still supporting the old man, spoke calmly.
Zuo Duanyou spoke slowly, word by word. “Anyone who said such a thing, this old man would consider mad.”
“What you say is also the truth.” Ning Yi nodded, not the least bit angered. “So, when the day comes that heaven and earth collapse, when the Jurchens strike at the Zuo family, you yourself, old sir, may well already have passed on by then. Your family will have been killed, your women violated, and they will face two choices. One is to submit to the Jurchens and swallow the humiliation. The other is that they can truly reform themselves, become good, useful people — and when that day comes, even if the Zuo family’s countless wealth has all been scattered, even if there’s not a single grain left in your storehouses, Small Azure River will still be willing to accept them as part of this place. This is the thing I wanted to leave behind — an account I owe to you, Lord Zuo.”
Ning Yi kept his hand on Zuo Duanyou’s arm; the old man, leaning on his cane, simply looked at him, no longer intending to continue walking. “This old man is now fairly certain — you truly are mad. The Zuo family does have its problems, but before that day ever comes, I fear this tiny Small Azure River of yours will already be gone!”
“That’s possible too,” Ning Yi said, slowly releasing his hold.
“So — facing the situation as it stands now, you people still believe you have a way through it?”
The night wind gusted, stirring the robes of the two men on the mountainside. Ning Yi nodded, turning to look back down toward the valley below; after a good while, he spoke. “Some time ago, my wife asked me what I intended to do. I asked her in turn — look at Small Azure River, what does it look like right now? She couldn’t guess it. You, Lord Zuo, have been here over a day now, and you’ve asked around, learned the details. What do you think it looks like now?”
The old man looked down for a moment at the scattered points of firelight gathered in the valley below.
“Standing at the edge of a cliff — no path forward, pursuers closing in from behind. Calm on the surface, but seething with anxiety underneath, all five elements consumed by fire, fragile as an egg balanced on the edge of collapse.”
“Lord Zuo sees the deeper truth in the smallest details — well put.” Ning Yi laughed, standing there with his hands clasped behind his back, gazing with a smile at the scattered lights below. He watched for a good while like this, then his expression grew serious. “Lord Zuo, everything you’ve observed is correct — but the reasoning drawn from it has an error in it. Forgive my bluntness, but everyone in the Wu Dynasty has grown accustomed to thinking like the weak. You’ve all turned every possibility over in your minds, calculated everything down to the last detail — and in doing so, overlooked the one path forward that’s been sitting right in front of you the whole time. It’s a difficult path, but it truly is the only genuine way out.”
“Ignorant young man,” Zuo Duanyou said with a laugh. “And what you’re thinking — is that the thinking of the strong?”
“It’s about to begin. The outcome, of course, is hard to say for certain — the distinction between strong and weak might not even be quite accurate here. Calling it the thinking of a madman might be closer to the truth.” Ning Yi laughed and cupped his hands. “I still have a meeting to attend — please forgive me, Ning Yi will take his leave. Do make yourself comfortable, Lord Zuo.”
With a sharp crack, the old man planted his cane on the ground once more. He stood there at the edge of the mountain, gazing down at the scattered lights spreading below, his expression grave. He seemed to have already set aside the latter part of what Ning Yi had said, and yet, in his heart, he was still turning it over and over. In his mind, this whole speech had confirmed that the young man now walking away truly did seem like a madman — yet it was that final comparison, between strength and weakness, that lingered with him, nagging at his thoughts.
Because men like Zuo Houwen and Zuo Jilan — for someone to reject, so plainly and cleanly, an entire path to survival on their account — this was something Zuo Duanyou had never once encountered in his entire life. Even Wang Qisong, once known for his uncompromising integrity, would never have carried such rigid principle to this extreme.
There was no denying it — in the broadest sense, these unworthy sons of great families and corrupt officials had ruined the Wu Dynasty. But which family, which household, didn’t have men like this among them? Water too clear holds no fish. That the Zuo family still remained in his own hands, under his own leadership, was itself a positive thing; even after he himself was gone, whoever took over the Zuo family’s affairs would surely be a capable, strong-willed patriarch. The Zuo family helping Small Azure River would be a genuine act of aid in a time of crisis — some special considerations might reasonably be expected in return, but surely nothing excessive. And yet this Ning Liheng demanded that everyone involved show perfect discernment of the bigger picture, all because of men like Zuo Houwen and Zuo Jilan — rejecting the entire Zuo family’s assistance outright because of them. A man like that was either a purely idealistic dreamer, or he truly was mad.
Pure idealism could never accomplish anything. Neither could madness. And what puzzled Zuo Duanyou most of all was that, even having come this far in his reasoning, he still couldn’t work out what this so-called “thinking of a madman” actually was.
He lifted his head; the mountain wind blew warm across him, the sky above bright with moon and scattered stars. Ning Yi’s figure had already left this side of the ridge, while on the opposite slope, a wooden building stood brightly lit — all sixty-eight of Small Azure River’s Black Banner Army officers at battalion level and above, together with the senior figures from internal affairs, strategic planning, and intelligence, were arriving one after another, filing into the room.
Soldiers moving through the room handed out copies of a transcribed document to each person in turn. According to the document’s title, this was a decision made by Small Azure River’s leadership at a meeting held on the eighth day of the twelfth month of the previous year. Most of those gathered in the room could read, and the moment they got hold of the document, small murmurs and stirrings of discussion had already begun to rise, only gradually settling under the watchful gaze of officers like He Zhicheng and Liu Chengzong standing at the front. On every face, the murmuring gave way to a strange, excited flush of red; some found their bodies trembling faintly.
A moment later, Qin Shaoqian and Ning Yi entered one after the other through the door, and Su Tan’er, her expression stern and gaunt, clutching a small notebook, took her seat at the meeting as well.
This day was the twelfth of the sixth month, in the second year of the Jingping reign — a full year to the day since Ning Yi had murdered the emperor in the Golden Hall and the Wurui Camp had risen in rebellion. Over the course of that year, the Jurchens had swept south once more, broken Bianliang, and overturned the entire Wu Dynasty; the Western Xia had shattered the northwest and begun their own formal invasion from the south. This entire rebel army, hidden away in these northwestern mountains, seemed, amid this vast, sweeping tide of upheaval, on the verge of being forgotten entirely by the world. At present, the greatest matters of concern were the enthronement of the Wu Dynasty’s new emperor in the south, and speculation over how the Jurchens might respond next.
But before long, the utterly extreme, unrestrained action about to be unleashed by this army hidden away in the northwest mountains would come sweeping forward—
—Shaking the entire realm to its core!