Dust motes danced in the light, and the house, inside and out, was quiet, as though no one were there. The air of early spring carried a faint chill and a touch of dampness that seeped into the skin. Fan Hongji stood there, looking over everyone in the room, studying each person’s expression in turn. Luo Ye glanced at the two heads on the table, then calmly looked away. Ning Yi stood smiling outside the door, sizing up Fan Hongji, then taking in the expressions of everyone in the room. Just as Fan Hongji seemed about to speak, Ning Yi spoke first.
“Ha ha, Envoy Fan, your nerve is admirable indeed.”
“Oh?” Fan Hongji turned his head, smiling at Ning Yi as he walked in. “What makes Mister Ning say that?”
“If these two warriors truly belonged to Xiaocang River, would the envoy really be able to walk out of here in one piece, coming as you have?” Ning Yi walked up to the table and patted the wooden box, smiling as he spoke.
Fan Hongji laughed as well. “Ha ha, Mister Ning overstates things. That’s not at all how I see it. If these two warriors really were men of yours, and yet your side acted so unwisely, then in the great upheaval now sweeping the realm, I fear Xiaocang River would find it hard to escape unscathed either. Or perhaps… there would be no escaping at all.”
“As you and I have said before, one won’t know until the fighting is done.”
Fan Hongji’s gaze sharpened. He studied Ning Yi for a moment before speaking. “So then, these two really are warriors of Xiaocang River?”
Ning Yi’s gaze swept over everyone in the room, and he said, enunciating each word, “Of course not.”
“But the expressions of your men here don’t seem to agree.”
Fan Hongji spoke slowly and deliberately, one word at a time. Ning Yi merely shook his head, his gaze mild.
“Envoy Fan, I understand what Lord Gushen and Academy Master Shi have in mind. But when you set two heads down like this, in front of a room full of young men who live by the blade, anyone would take it as a provocation. And to speak plainly, that your country carried off nearly two hundred thousand people from Bianliang was certainly a mark of the Han court’s incompetence, and I’ve no wish to make an enemy of your nation. But if there were truly a way to save those people—even by ransom—I would be very willing to do it. Envoy Fan, as I said yesterday, Xiaocang River holds firm to the principle that our own people will not be sold off to foreign lands, but we are more than willing to trade with others. Consider it: your Jin state took tens upon tens of thousands of captives in a single great battle. If you were truly willing to trade, you’d be certain to profit and never lose.”
Just as Fan Hongji was about to speak, Ning Yi stepped closer and patted him on the shoulder. “Envoy Fan, as a Han able to rise to high office within the Jin state, your family surely holds influence in the northern lands. Consider—if this trade were something your own house handled, the two of us joining hands could hardly be called anything but a fine arrangement.”
Ning Yi was about to continue, but the other man waved a hand. “Mister Ning is indeed a fine talker, but Han captives may not be sold to foreign lands either—that is the fixed policy of our Great Jin, not to be altered. And so I must decline your kind offer. As for these heads…”
“Ah, who says policy can’t be changed? There’s always some middle path to be found.” Ning Yi cut off his line of thought. “Envoy Fan, consider this—we killed the Emperor of the Han court, and now we hold to this corner of the northwest, and what we want is a good reputation. You’ve captured Han court prisoners; the men labor, the women are made into prostitutes, which is useful enough, but there will come a day when they’re used up. Say, for instance, a captive who’s been beaten and cursed until his hands and feet are broken, wasted nearly to death, of no more use to you—name a price, sell him to us, and I’ll see that he meets a decent end. The realm will give me a good name for it, and you’ll turn an extra profit besides. And if you’re short of people, simply go capture more in the south. The armies of Jin are unmatched under heaven—captives, you can have as many as you like. This proposal might well interest Marshal Nian Han, Lord Gushen, and Academy Master Shi. If Envoy Fan could help bring it about, I would be deeply grateful.”
Fan Hongji frowned. “…Ones with broken hands and feet, close to death—you want those too?”
“Of course we’d rather have the healthy ones, but every beginning is difficult. Our means are modest for now—we can build up to it slowly.”
“Mister Ning, this matter isn’t mine to decide. Let’s return to the heads—if these two men aren’t yours, then I must…”
The mood in the room, once grim and killing-edged, had grown strange in a way now. Fan Hongji, himself a man of no small ability, steered the conversation back and reached to take the two heads. At that very moment Ning Yi reached out and pushed the nearby box holding the heads back. “Let’s leave the heads here.”
“Hm?” Fan Hongji turned his head, staring at Ning Yi, and spoke slowly, as though he had caught hold of something. “Mister Ning, doing this could easily lead to misunderstandings.”
“Misunderstanding or not, it hardly matters.” Ning Yi waved his hand casually. “Since they were clearly warriors, they must have belonged to some faction in the south. It happens that Envoy Fan brought them here—let me make inquiries, publicize their names widely, and then send the heads back. That would be a favor done. And where there’s a favor, there’s an exchange, and where there’s exchange, there’s business to be had. Envoy Fan, once a gift has been brought, how could it be taken back?”
“If Mister Ning keeps them, then when I return I’ll have to report it exactly as it happened.”
“Of course you should report it truthfully, you must report it. Envoy Fan, feel free to say these men were mine, or simply repeat today’s events word for word—it makes no difference. Even if they truly were mine, that would only show my earnest wish to do business, and Envoy Fan might as well use the occasion to bring the matter up.” Ning Yi put an arm around Fan Hongji’s shoulder. “Come now, Envoy Fan, there’s nothing of interest here—let me show you the rare treasures we brought out of Bianliang.”
“You…”
Fan Hongji tried to protest further, but Ning Yi led him out all the same. Those left in the room could only hear Fan Hongji’s voice from outside the door. “Mister Ning’s tongue is as clever as ever, but I fear it’s of no use. I said yesterday already what our great army has come here for. If Xiaocang River refuses to surrender and refuses to hand over the firearms, then whatever I say means nothing at all.”
“And I’ll say the same thing I always say: if you want to fight, we’ll meet you in the field. The Jurchen fought their way out of the White Mountains and Black Waters, ten thousand strong and unbeatable—but that was only ever a matter of surviving, and it’s the same for us. If General Loushi’s mind is truly made up, we’ll meet him with everything we have; that part is simple. But if there’s even a small chance for another way, I’d naturally like that far better. Don’t mind my going on, Envoy Fan—so long as your side is fair, just, and shows good will, the matter of the firearms isn’t one that can’t be discussed.”
“Oh…”
“It’s only that, living here in the mountains as we do, this is the very foundation on which our Han Army stands. If it’s truly to be traded away, the Great Jin side must show sincerity—a great deal of sincerity. Surely Envoy Fan can understand a matter like this. Ha ha, this way, please…”
The two men’s voices gradually faded into the distance, and the room fell quiet once more. On the table, the heads of Lu Yannian and his deputy Qi Zhenbiao seemed to look out over everyone present. At some point, someone suddenly slammed a fist down on the table. Qu Qing, who had been leading the lecture and discussion in the room earlier, said nothing either. He stood in silence for a time, then turned and walked out. It was roughly an hour later before he came back in. Ning Yi followed shortly after, entering the room and gazing at the heads on the table with a grave expression.
After a while, he turned to look at the men who had remained standing in the room the whole time. “Faces all swollen from the slap, are they?”
Among the group, a young man named Chen Xing gritted his teeth, then suddenly raised his head. “Reporting, sir! When the man surnamed Fan brought those things out earlier, I couldn’t control myself—he probably heard the sound of my fist clenching. I request punishment!”
Someone beside him spoke up as well. “I request punishment too!”
“Mister Ning, let me go kill him—he’s already seen through it anyway,” said another.
“Same as with Western Xia—if we’re going to fight anyway, then let’s fight! Mister Ning, it’s not certain we can’t beat Wanyan Loushi!”
“Worst comes to worst, we die!”
Ning Yi’s gaze swept across their faces, his brow faintly knitting, his eyes cool. He turned his head to glance once more at Lu Yannian’s head. “I told you to have some fire in your blood—but you’ve put that fire in the wrong place, haven’t you?”
He walked around to the other side of the table, sat down, and rapped his knuckles on the tabletop a few times. “What was the conclusion of your earlier discussion? If we go to war with Loushi, are we certain to win?”
“No,” Luo Ye said. “It would be best to have more time.”
Ning Yi glanced at him. “Fighting Western Xia was a strategic goal we settled on long before—no matter what happened to the Western Xia envoys, that strategy stayed fixed. But now, because you took a slap in the face, you want to change your own strategy and start the war ahead of schedule. Tell me, is that you losing, or them?”
His voice was calm. No one in the room answered. Ning Yi went on. “The Jin state is built around the Jurchen, but any Han who can hold a place at their court is nothing to be underestimated. Fan Hongji gave me a show of strength today, and yes, that was humiliating for me. Manager Lu, already dead, hurts me even more. But what did I tell you before? Being a man doesn’t mean flying into a rage at the first slight. What it means to be a man is to look after the people who depend on you. Every one of you is an officer with men under your command, hundreds of lives resting on your shoulders. When you make decisions, there’s no room for jokes, no room for impulse—not even a little. You have to give me absolute calm, because every ounce of that calm might be the lives of several people.”
His gaze swept the room once, grave, and then eased slightly. “It’s the same for the Jurchen. Wanyan Xiyin and Shi Li’ai have set their sights on us, and that won’t end well for us. But whether or not these two heads today were ours, their decision won’t change because of it. Wanyan Loushi will finish pacifying the other regions and then come for us. Even if you killed Fan Hongji, they wouldn’t come charging in tomorrow—but… that doesn’t mean we can’t stall, can’t talk. As long as we can buy more time, I’d even kneel down before the man if it came to that. Just now, in fact, I gave them several paintings, calligraphies, and bronze pots—all of them priceless.”
“There’s a trick to giving gifts.” Ning Yi thought it over. “What’s given to them openly, they’ll accept, and might well hand it over once they’re home. So I’ve picked out a few small pieces of jade, less in size but greater in worth, and over the next two days I’ll give each of them a separate, private, secret gift as well. That way, even if the open gifts get handed in, each man will still be carrying a little private interest of his own underneath. And as long as there’s private interest, the reports they send back are bound to be skewed. When you become commanders yourselves someday and have to judge intelligence, you’ll need to keep this point well in mind.”
Ning Yi fell silent a moment, then said, “As for this business of gift-giving and playing the grandson—is there anyone among you willing to come along with me?”
No sooner had he said this than the men in the room began speaking up one after another, volunteering. “Me.”
“Mister Ning, I’ll go!”
Ning Yi smiled. “I was joking.”
He stood up. “As I said—you’re soldiers, and you should keep your fire. But that fire isn’t meant to fog your minds and ruin things. Remember what happened today. One day, it’ll be up to you to win back my face for me, and if the Jurchen still don’t feel a thing by then, I won’t let you off either.”
“As for right now—when you’re in the wrong, admit it. When you’re struck, stand at attention. It will be a few more days before Manager Lu’s and Brother Qi’s heads can be buried. All of you, remember them well—we’re not the ones who suffered most.” He looked at the two heads for a long while before finally letting out a breath. “All right. I’ll play the grandson, and the brothers of the Bamboo Bureau will play along with me. The only thing I ask of you is this—over these next two days, when you see the man surnamed Fan and the rest of them, control yourselves…”
He rapped the table once and turned to walk out the door.
“…Be friendly to them.”
Over the following day, Ning Yi went back to talk business with Fan Hongji again, and whenever any of the men who’d come with him were caught alone, gifts found their way to them.
On the twenty-ninth of the second month, Fan Hongji left Xiaocang River, and Ning Yi saw him off for a long way. When at last they parted, Fan Hongji turned back to look at Ning Yi’s earnest, smiling face, and found the feelings stirring in him hard to put into any single shape.
In truth, he thought, if he really could get this trade in captives going with these people, it might turn out quite well—his own family would stand to profit enormously. Only, Lord Gushen and Academy Master Shi might not agree to it so easily. For men unwilling to surrender, the Jin had no need to keep them alive at all, and besides, Lord Gushen’s interest in the firearms was no small passing curiosity.
This campaign of Lord Loushi’s to bring Guan and Shaan under control—the man was a war god among the Jurchen, and even as a Han official, Fan Hongji understood full well how terrible that war god truly was. Before long, he would surely sweep across the northwest and everything north of the Yellow River.
What a pity…
At this time, across the northwest, it was not only Xiaocang River—the various territories and forces belonging to the Zhe Family and the Zhong Family alike—that the Jurchen had sent envoys to persuade into surrender. And across the vast expanse of the Central Plains, three great Jurchen armies came surging down like a flood, while Han court armies rushing to the emperor’s aid, numbering in the millions, gathered in every quarter, awaiting the moment of collision.
Before long, that collision came.
Yunzhong Prefecture.
Lu Mingfang crawled weakly out of his hiding place, searching quietly for food in the dark of night. All around lay broken-down houses and a chaotic, overgrown courtyard. His wounds were severe, his mind clouded; he himself had no idea how he’d come to be here. The only thing his hand still gripped tight was his knife.
The sound of footsteps and voices seemed to pass by outside. Lu Mingfang drew a breath and struggled to his feet, trying to find anything usable in the ruined house. From behind him came a creaking sound.
A door opened, then closed again.
Lu Mingfang raised his knife with great effort, his body swaying unsteadily. The figure approached, its footsteps light, almost soundless.
“Don’t be afraid. I’m Han.”
The voice was gentle and even, and rare for that, carrying within it a thread of firmness—the voice of a woman. Before he collapsed, she had already come to him and steadied his arm and shoulder with a sure hand. In the instant before he lost consciousness, he saw her profile in the faint moonlight: beautiful, supple, and calm.
It was the first time he had ever laid eyes on Chen Wenjun.