On the city wall in the hours before dawn, torches still cast their glow. In the dimness outside Zezhou’s southern gate, clusters of bonfires stretched off into the distance, and the crowd gathered here had gradually grown quiet.

In a spot sheltered from the wind beneath the city wall, some of the refugees slept soundly, while others stayed awake, keeping watch over a man lying on the ground, wrapped in many bandages. The man appeared to be around thirty, his clothes tattered and stained with blood, his hair disheveled—even beneath the bandages, one could vaguely make out signs of his fierce, bloodied condition.

The man hadn’t intended to sleep, but he was simply too exhausted. While leaning against the city wall for a brief moment’s rest, he had fallen over into sleep. The others, not wanting to wake him, let him sleep on a while longer.

A gust of wind swept past over the city wall, and the man was suddenly startled awake, his eyes snapping open. Still somewhat groggy, he struggled to sit up. A woman beside him came over to help him up. “What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost dawn.”

“I told you to wake me up. I need to… right, hot water. I need to wash up.” His expression carried some urgency. “Find me… find me a somewhat decent set of clothes to change into.”

This man among the refugees was the one known as the “Demon King,” Wang Shitong.

Grievously wounded from torture, he had spent nearly the entire night being carried and supported as he rushed about, and had only just gotten a moment to rest after finally managing to calm the refugees. Even now, he did not stop. At his instruction, the others found him a still relatively intact house, and the refugee woman who had been tending to his wounds helped him change clothes, wiping him down and tidying him up for a while. Once his clothes were off, the wounds covering his body were enough to make anyone’s heart tremble—yet in this moment, Wang Shitong’s mood was intense and exhilarated.

While they were tending to him, someone else came in—this was Yan Hong, his deputy who had been captured alongside him. Yan Hong had been severely wounded when captured, and since he wasn’t fit to withstand torture, Sun Qi and the others had given him some medicine. Later, when the Huaxia Army infiltrated the prison once, they had treated his wounds again, so by the day of the rescue, Yan Hong’s condition was actually somewhat better than Wang Shitong’s own.

“Going to see the Black Banner people?”

“Yes, it’s already been arranged.” Wang Shitong smiled. “I thought for certain I would die. I really never imagined… never imagined…”

His laughter was joyful, yet also tinged with sorrow. Yan Hong understood the feeling behind it well enough. After a moment, he said, “I went to look. Zezhou has been completely pacified.”

“Mm.”

“Those rumors—it seems they might actually be true. The Tiger King’s territory has completely changed hands.”

“Not surprising.” Wang Shitong pressed his lips together. “The Huaxia Army… it’s really no surprise the Huaxia Army made a move. If they’d acted sooner, maybe what happened on the banks of the Yellow River wouldn’t have… heh…”

As Wang Shitong said this, he reached out and patted the chair, his sorrowful mood shifting into laughter. Yan Hong, perhaps feeling his own share of bitterness and despair, found his eyes reddening, and he laughed along as well. The woman nearby, unable to hold back any longer, began to weep. As she cried, the two men’s laughter only grew louder, tears sliding down their faces as well.

The hardships and sorrows of this world are difficult to put into words in their entirety—especially after passing through such darkness and despair, when relief finally comes all at once, the tangled emotions become all the harder to express.

“Going to see them, to ask for their help…”

“They’ll help. They’re sure to help… You see, old Yan, I always said—heaven wouldn’t leave us with no way out at all. There’s always a path, hah… hahahaha…”

The two men laughed heartily together in the room, and before long, the woman beside them was caught up in it too. After a while, as Wang Shitong was helped out of the room by others, the first pale light of dawn was just beginning to appear on the horizon. A rooster crowed somewhere nearby, and the refugees gathered along the nearby streets and around the bonfires, seeing Wang Shitong and the others pass by, rose to greet him—some even weeping loudly. Wang Shitong offered them words of comfort.

“It’s alright now, it’s alright. As long as I’m alive, as long as I draw breath… you’ll all draw breath too…”

Those who had managed to make it to Zezhou after the great collapse and massacre on the banks of the Yellow River had, for the most part, placed all their hope in Wang Shitong. Hearing him say this, they all felt relieved and settled.

At this moment, dawn was about to break—and especially in the moment right after, when Wang Shitong met the eyes of the man he had come to see, that feeling of sunlight pouring down reached its absolute peak. After that…

It came crashing down—

…

“…Outside, the agreed date was the twenty-ninth of the sixth month. Within Prince Jin’s territory, the Huaxia Army personnel who had been kept in reserve moved simultaneously, coordinating with a faction within Tian Hu’s own ranks to overturn Tian Hu’s control over nine prefectures. In theory, by this point, Weisheng should have completely changed hands. Wang Juyun has moved south, taking Meng County, Xi County, and several other cities. Tian Hu’s former territory will now be led by Tian Shi, Yu Yulin, Lou Shuwan, and others. The Jurchens may send nearby forces to pressure Tian Shi… this may well be the situation you’ll be facing going forward…”

“Then the Huaxia Army…”

“Some of our people were exposed in the course of this operation, and per the agreement, they should be withdrawing south. Of course, I can also leave some behind to help you.”

“The Huaxia Army isn’t moving north?”

“Over the three years at Xiaocang River, the Huaxia Army suffered heavy losses, and two years hasn’t been nearly enough time to recover. As for moving north—right now, the Jurchens, the puppet Qi, and the Southern Martial Dynasty are all hostile to us. Coming to the Central Plains would just mean another three years like the last.”

“I see…”

The cool morning breeze stirred the lingering mist; the smell of smoke, still raw from the fires that had just been extinguished, lingered around the streets and alleys. In front of the ruins, the wounded man spoke with the scholar in light robes. After Ning Yi had explained the situation, he noticed the man’s mood and smiled faintly.

“Back when you were working in the north, some Black Banner people who gathered around you admired your courage and sense of justice, and urged you to come south with them and join the Huaxia Army. At the time, General Wang, you said: seeing countless lives thrown into ruin, how could I simply stand by and abandon them to flee? Even if it meant death, you would bring them with you, all the way to the south of the river… I admired that thinking deeply, General Wang. Do you still feel that way now? If… I were to ask you again to join the Huaxia Army, would you be willing?”

Wang Shitong was clearly preoccupied with something else, his gaze complicated, taking a good while to respond. “But… there are so many of them, Mister Ning…”

“Hm?”

“Mister Ning, I came here… to ask for grain, for them…”

Wang Shitong weighed his words for a moment before finally saying this. Ning Yi nodded. “I understand that, and I’ve already made arrangements for it. A third of Zezhou’s grain reserves will be allocated to your people—nearly ten thousand piculs in total, which should be enough to ease the immediate crisis. Carts that can be spared within the city are already being arranged for transport, though you may need to handle some of it yourselves.”

“…Then, Mister Ning, where can they go from here?”

“Where do you want to take them?”

“I want to lead them across the Yellow River.” Wang Shitong looked at Ning Yi. “To the south of the river.”

Ning Yi’s mouth opened slightly; he was silent for a moment. “I… personally think the chances of that are slim.”

Silence fell over the scene. Wang Shitong opened his mouth, but for a moment found no words, until finally he said, “Mister Ning, they really are… very pitiable.”

His voice drifted on the wind. Ning Yi said nothing. Wang Shitong, recalling those tragedies, continued, “They used to have some property, some foundation to their lives. Since heading south, they’ve lost everything. Along the way, I don’t know how many have starved to death, been killed—I don’t even know the number. I’ve led them without knowing which way to turn. My wife and daughter both died on this journey. They say we sacked cities… hundreds of thousands of people, wandering aimlessly, they’d have eaten even the bark off the trees by now, some have started… eating children, Mister Ning, I don’t know how to say this properly…”

“…They just want to live, that’s all, if only there were some way to survive… but heaven won’t give us a way out anymore. Locusts, drought… and now floods too…” His voice began to choke with emotion as he spoke, pressing his hand to his head. “I led them, and with great difficulty finally reached the banks of the Yellow River, and then there was Tian Hu, Sun Qi—if the Huaxia Army hadn’t stepped in, they truly would have all died, frozen and starved to death right there. Mister Ning, I know you’re good people, truly good people. Back in those years, when everyone else had knelt down and surrendered, only you were truly resisting the Jurchens…”

Ning Yi gently patted his shoulder. “Everyone is just struggling to survive.”

“If they can’t cross the Yellow River, they’ll all die, Mister Ning. Go and see them yourself—see what state they’re in. Ten thousand piculs of grain is a great deal, but there are more people than just those outside the city—many died along the Yellow River already, but at least twenty or thirty thousand are still alive. Mister Ning, if they can’t cross the Yellow River, where else can they possibly stay?”

“Perhaps they could be dispersed among the territories of the various factions?”

“Begging won’t get them through the winter.” Wang Shitong shook his head. “In peaceful times it might be different, but in a year like this, Wang Juyun, Tian Hu, Li Xizhi—none of them have anything to spare. Beggars won’t survive; they’ll all die here.”

Ning Yi thought for a moment. “But crossing the Yellow River isn’t a solution either—that’s still Liu Yu’s territory, and especially… to guard against the Southern Martial Dynasty, there are two whole Jurchen armies stationed there specifically. Twenty or thirty thousand people crossing the Yellow River would still be walking straight into death. Have you thought about that?”

Wang Shitong nodded. “But staying here, they’ll die too.”

“…At least you’d be there to look after them.” Ning Yi paused, looking at him. “This is… a very difficult thing, but there’s no other way. If you abandon them too, then no one will be left to care for them at all. Three hundred thousand people—I think… there’s still a real possibility of gaining a foothold here. Farming, fishing, eating wild fruit and tree bark if they must—staying here will definitely be safer for them than crossing the Yellow River. If you need it, the Black Banner will support you as much as we can.”

“Support… with what?”

“Weapons, even cannons if needed.” Ning Yi sighed. “To help you gain a foothold, arm yourselves, and survive as best you can. In the south, under the crown prince’s support, several generals led by Yue Fei have already begun moving north. Only once they manage to open up this route, one day, will you have any chance of crossing safely.”

“But… can’t the Black Banner help?”

“The Black Banner can help.” Ning Yi sighed. “But we cannot move north in the near future. If it’s just to save people, and everyone ends up dying in the Central Plains anyway, I can’t make that decision. But I promise you, whenever it becomes possible, I will do everything I can to support your efforts to establish a foothold, and eventually move south.”

Wang Shitong fell silent for a long while. “They’re all going to die…”

“Hm?”

“Hundreds of thousands of people… settling here, most of them have never even been soldiers, never fought in battle before, Mister Ning. You don’t know how they died in that battle by the Yellow River. Settling here, everyone will see them as a thorn in their side, a splinter in their flesh—they’ll all die here.”

“General Wang, forgive my bluntness, but in this world, there is no way to survive without fighting. Many will die, and the ones who remain will be forged into true fighters. The more such people there are, the greater the chance we’ll one day defeat the Jurchens—that’s the only way to truly solve this problem.”

“But so many will die, and you… we… will just watch them die.” He had meant to say “you,” but in the end changed it to “we.” After a moment, he said quietly, “Mister Ning, I have an idea…”

“Go ahead, tell me.”

“Look at Zezhou, the Tiger King’s territory—you… you arranged for so many people here, and the moment they made their move, everything here turned upside down. Before, people said the Huaxia Army had left many people behind, but everyone still had their doubts. Now, no one will doubt it anymore. Mister Ning, since you’ve placed so many people here, surely there are people in Liu Yu’s territory as well. Could you… could you mobilize them, Mister Ning? Liu Yu is far weaker than Tian Hu and the others—if you make your move, the Central Plains will surely change hands. Could you… please consider it…”

Ning Yi’s expression had gradually turned serious. Wang Shitong waved his hands.

“This is hundreds of thousands of lives, hundreds of thousands of lives, Mister Ning! They are the hundreds of thousands of lives right in front of you—all you have to do is lift your hand, and they might cross the Yellow River, cross the Central Plains, and reach the south—they could survive! The merit of saving hundreds of thousands of lives, Mister Ning—doing this would only make the Huaxia Army’s reputation across the realm even greater, and countless people would surely flock to join you upon hearing of it. Even the matter of killing an emperor could be washed clean by this…”

As he said this, he clenched his teeth and slowly rose, kneeling down. Ning Yi caught his arm, and after a moment, helped him sit back down.

“That’s an option worth considering.” Ning Yi weighed his words carefully. “But General Wang, this move against Tian Hu was only meant to make an example of him, a warning to others. If we make a move across the entire Central Plains, the Jurchens will inevitably come as well. By then, with a change of regime, the Huaxia Army members hidden underground will inevitably face an even larger-scale purge. The Jurchens are different from Liu Yu—Liu Yu, for all the bones he’s left scattered across the land, still needs people to staff his court. If the Jurchens’ great army comes, they can slaughter their way through city after city…”

“But this really is hundreds of thousands of lives, Mister Ning—you tell me, what could possibly be greater than that? We have to save people first…”

“The biggest problem is that once the Jurchens march south, the Southern Martial Dynasty will lose its last chance to catch its breath. You see, as long as Liu Yu and the others remain, they act as a whetstone of sorts—one that can sharpen the Southern Martial Dynasty’s blade even further. Once the Jurchens march south, that will be the moment the blade is truly tested. And when that happens, I fear these hundreds of thousands of people won’t survive more than a few years anyway…”

“But perhaps the Jurchens won’t send troops at all—if you keep the scope of the operation small, all we need is one path…”

“Whether there’s some middle ground to be found, I’ll consider it carefully. General Wang, please think it over carefully as well. Very often, all of us are left with no good options…”

The wind stirred the morning mist, and the two men’s conversation continued. On the other side of the city, You Hongzhuo dragged his wounded body along the street, a sword slung across his back, his face pale, swaying unsteadily on his feet—but because he carried a special military insignia, no one stopped him along the way.

He made his way to a small square and sat down among the crowd, surrounded by the exhausted snores of sleeping refugees.

After an entire night of madness, You Hongzhuo leaned against a wall, staring blankly into the distance. Since leaving the prison the night before, he had fought alongside a group of fellow prisoners in several skirmishes, and then, weapon in hand, had gone searching—driven by a single obsession—for his Fourth Brother, Kuang Wenbai, to take revenge.

But the Grand Luminous Sect’s temple had already been razed to the ground; the army had fought through the area several times, then set a great fire, burning it to ashes—no telling how many underworld men had died in the flames. The fire had spread to the surrounding streets and houses as well, and unable to find Kuang Wenbai, You Hongzhuo had ended up helping fight the fire instead.

Over the course of that night, wandering through the city, he had seen far too many scenes of tragedy and desolation. At first, none of it had seemed to affect him much, but as he kept watching, a sudden wave of nausea rose within him. The burned-out houses, the innocent people slaughtered in the marketplace, the civilians killed in the army’s charges, the children left staring blankly amid pools of blood, having lost their families…

“Hey, isn’t that you?” a voice called out from beside him. “The stubborn kid from the cell!”

He turned to look and realized the burly man beside him was the one who had been held in the cell across from his—the man who had once asked him to deliver a mercy killing to a badly wounded fellow inmate, which You Hongzhuo had ultimately refused to do, leading to an argument between them.

You Hongzhuo tensed with caution, but the man showed no sign of wanting to fight. “I saw you kill people last night. You’re a real one. Whatever happened between us before, let’s call it even, alright?”

You Hongzhuo said nothing, which the man took as tacit agreement. Clearly exhausted himself, but still with some energy left, the man spoke up. “Hah, what a rush—haven’t felt that alive in a long time. What’s your name, brother? I’m Chang Jun. We’ve decided to head southwest and join the Black Banner. You coming?”

“The Black Banner…” You Hongzhuo repeated the words. “Is the Black Banner made up of good people?”

“Of course the Black Banner are good people. What, you got a problem with the Black Banner?”

You Hongzhuo looked up at the sky, silent for a long while. “I can’t tell anymore…”

Indeed, he couldn’t tell. In that moment, Kuang Wenbai’s voice suddenly surfaced in his mind. In a world like this, who was truly good? His elder brothers had talked of chivalry and righteousness, while in reality amassing wealth for Wang Juyun. The Grand Luminous Sect had presented itself as righteous and dignified, while in truth being filthy and shameless. Kuang Wenbai had said that in this world, everyone had someone standing behind them, pulling the strings. The Black Banner? Were they truly good people? So many innocent people had died, after all.

What of those people?

In this moment, he suddenly found he had nowhere he wanted to go. He didn’t want to become someone with people standing behind him pulling strings. There ought to be some path left for the innocent. A knight-errant—wasn’t that the whole point of being one? He thought of Mister Zhao and his wife of the Twin Black Wind Demons; he had a stomach full of questions he wanted to ask Mister Zhao, but Mister Zhao was nowhere to be found.

—The path of the martial world was one he would have to walk alone.

…

It was another bright, sunny morning when You Hongzhuo, twin blades slung across his back, left Zezhou city, now gradually returning to order. From this day forward, there would be a path in the martial world that belonged to him alone. This path would be endless hardship and turmoil, thunder and dust filling the sky—but he gripped the blade in his hand tightly, and from then on, he never let go.

It was another evening of pouring rain, the ground turned to mud, when Wang Shitong drove his cart along the road, surrounded before and behind by countless bewildered people, stretching off into the distance as far as the eye could see: “Hahahaha… hahahaha…”

Yan Hong saw him suddenly throw his head back and laugh, but the laughter was shrill and bitter, carrying no trace of joy at all. “General, what’s wrong?”

“I understand now, I understand…”

“What…”

“No one cares about us! No one has ever cared about us!” Wang Shitong shouted, his eyes already bloodshot. “Sun Qi, Tian Hu, Wang Juyun, Liu Yu, hahahaha… the Heart Demon, Ning Yi—no one has ever cared about people like us. You think he’s being kind, but he’s just using us. He clearly had a way, and he watched us go to our deaths… All he wanted was for us to kill, kill, and kill, until only a handful were left, and then he’d come and reap the rewards! You think he came to save us, but he only came to… make an example of us, a warning to others, he didn’t come for our sake… Look at these people, he clearly had a way…”

Yan Hong looked at him. Wang Shitong stood up on the cart.

“This whole world is full of wicked men! That’s why you’ve all become starving ghosts!” The people around him stared at him in shock. Wang Shitong shook his head in the rain. “But it’s fine. As long as I’m here… I’ll definitely watch over you all… as long as I’m here…”

As long as I’m here…

He repeated these words over and over, his heart consumed with the pain of countless tragic deaths. From this point on, this place would hold nothing but true starving ghosts…

Ning Yi and Xigua, together with their party, left Zezhou and began heading south. Along the way, he calculated the possibility of getting Wang Shitong and his people to withdraw south several more times, but in the end could find no way to make it work. Wang Shitong’s final state of mind left him faintly uneasy. Though Ning Yi was, in matters of great consequence, undeniably hard-hearted, if there had truly been a way, he wouldn’t have minded doing some good in the world.

If Wang Shitong, as their leader, truly had something wrong with him, then if at all possible, Ning Yi hoped there might be a second path available.

At this time, news of the internal chaos within Prince Jin’s territory, and of the Black Banner spies once again baring their claws, was already spreading to every corner of the realm.

Meanwhile, a married couple with their child had just returned from Zezhou to Wozhou. Mu Yi, who had settled in Wozhou with his wife and children, was a minor constable at a small government office within Wozhou city. This time, the family had gone to Zezhou to do some shopping, and their son, Mu Anping, had nearly been trampled by a runaway horse in the street when a knight-errant, himself being pursued at the time, saved the child’s life. Mu Yi had wanted to repay him, but the other party belonged to a very powerful faction, and before long, Zezhou’s soldiers arrived and ultimately arrested the knight-errant as a rebel bandit.

Mu Yi tried quietly to pull some strings, but in the end it came to nothing—there was simply no connection to leverage. During this time, he sensed that something was off in the atmosphere of Zezhou, and finally left with his wife and children a step ahead of the trouble. Not long after, the great upheaval in Zezhou broke out.

The whole way home, his wife complained to him. She said that if anything happened to that knight-errant, her heart would never know peace for the rest of her life.

In Yunzhong Prefecture in the Jurchen state, a gentle-faced, refined-looking man had just arrived and met with Lu Mingfang, a Huaxia Army member currently working there. His name was Tang Minjie; he had made some mistakes down in the southwest and had subsequently been transferred north. Lu Mingfang had a passing acquaintance with him from before, and knew he was one of Mister Ning’s students, a man of considerable talent.

“I’d like to spend some time learning the Jurchen language first, before getting involved in the actual work—I think that would be the better approach.” Tang Minjie was a practical man, his temperament remarkably mild and even-tempered, and Lu Mingfang breathed a sigh of relief. Among those who had studied under Mister Ning, there were many with formidable abilities, but many also had considerable pride, and Lu Mingfang had worried that this new arrival might act recklessly the moment he arrived.

He seems like an easy person to get along with… A few days later, the gentle-tempered Tang Minjie had left Lu Mingfang with an extremely favorable impression. At this time, news arrived of unusual movements from the Black Banner in the south, and the two of them were both filled with excitement.

“We ought to pull off something big like that too…” Tang Minjie remarked with feeling, and Lu Mingfang nodded in agreement.

At this point, Lu Mingfang still could not fathom what kind of light was flickering in the eyes of his young new partner, and naturally had no way of foreseeing that, in the years to come, this Black Banner member—later known by the codename “The Clown”—would sow a trail of countless crimes and bloodshed across Jurchen territory…

Within Prince Jin’s territory, on the night Tian Hu charged out of Weisheng only to be captured and dragged back, Lou Shuwan came to the dungeon to see him.

“…You wretched creature! You wretch! Even willing to collude with the man who killed your own father! I curse you, wretch—may you know no peace even in hell, I’ll be waiting for you there—”

Amid Tian Hu’s torrent of curses, Lou Shuwan simply watched him quietly. Suddenly, Tian Hu seemed to realize something.

“That’s not it… you, you wretch, you’re fond of him! You’re fond of Ning Yi! Hahaha! Hahahaha! All these years, everything you’ve done has been modeled after him! Now I understand—a wretch is a wretch after all! You’re fond of him! You’ll know no peace for the rest of your life now, you don’t even need to go to hell for that… hahahaha—”

He kept cursing even amid his laughter. Lou Shuwan had already turned and begun walking away.

“Cut out his tongue,” she said.

Tian Hu’s tongue was cut out, though the act carried little real significance, since not long after, he was secretly executed and buried, with the official story given out that he had died suddenly of illness. This ruler, who had luckily survived over a decade amid the shifting dust of a chaotic age, had finally reached his end.

Not long after, Ning Yi and his party arrived at the banks of the Yellow River. It was the turn of late summer into early autumn; green mountains lined both banks, and the great river’s waters surged onward, stretching endlessly into the distance. By this point, sixteen years had passed since Ning Yi had first come to this world, and nine long years had passed since Qin Siyuan’s death and Ning Yi’s furious regicide in the golden hall.

In this autumn of the eighth year of Jianshuo, the dead remained forever gone, while the survivors could only continue forward, each along their own path.

The green mountains remain unchanged, as the sun sets red again and again, over the passing years.