In the land of Jin, the delayed spring rains had finally arrived.

The gray city was soaked in water, and in the water lingered the smell of blood. In the dead of night, in a pitch-black attic, You Hongzhuo applied medicine to a wound on his shoulder. As the pain washed over him, he clenched his teeth, straining not to make a sound.

His long blade, already nicked in several places, lay within easy reach beside his leg.

Once the medicine was applied and the bandage wound tight, he pulled his clothes back on, his fingers and clenched jaw trembling in the darkness. Below, off to the side of the attic, the faint sounds of activity were coming to an end. A figure pushed open the door and entered.

“Old Five is dead…” the figure said, sitting down at the side of the attic. “The man named Cen wasn’t found.”

You Hongzhuo leaned against the wall without speaking. Beyond the thin wall, in the darkness, only the patter of night rain could be heard. In such a quiet night, only those caught up in it could sense the surging undercurrents rolling and gathering behind that veil of darkness.

Since arriving in Weisheng, You Hongzhuo had faced one desperate, life-or-death struggle after another. After Tian Shi’s death had brought matters to a head, blood was spilled somewhere in the shadows of this city every single day. Those inclined to surrender began moving both openly and in secret, and hot-blooded men of conviction rose up to oppose them in the most primal way. Some were betrayed, some were eliminated—every step in the process of choosing sides carried the risk of death.

Fighting had already broken out at the front. To pave the way for compromise and surrender, the great clans’ persuaders, led by Liao Yiren, spoke every day of the situation not far to the north—Shulisu had besieged Linzhou, the Black Banner had nowhere left to retreat, and total annihilation seemed inevitable.

And yet, facing more than thirty thousand elite Jurchen troops, that force of some ten thousand under the Black Banner had, after all, still gone into battle.

They had, astonishingly… not retreated.

In these days of bloodshed, You Hongzhuo had come to know some people—some of whom had since died in the process. This night, they had gone to find a certain wandering swordsman surnamed Cen under the Liao family’s command, only to fall into an ambush instead. The man called Old Five—You Hongzhuo remembered him fairly well, a lean, shifty-looking fellow. When they had carried him back just now, he had been covered in blood, already beyond saving.

Because of his own wound, You Hongzhuo had missed tonight’s operation, though he felt no regret over it. Only, on a night like this, so heavy and oppressive, it was hard to keep one’s mind at ease, and so the man on the other side of the attic spoke a few more words.

“You think… how many people are still on our side?”

“The Black Banner has swept across the realm—who knows how long it can hold Shulisu at Linzhou…”

However long the battle of Linzhou lasted, facing more than thirty thousand elite Jurchen troops—and beyond them, over two hundred thousand more in the main Jurchen force—that ten-thousand-strong Black Banner Army would not be able to get away. These past few days, all the news gathered quietly from private sources had spoken of exactly this.

The night was pitch black, its cold darkness hiding the road ahead.

But You Hongzhuo closed his eyes, gripped the hilt of his blade, and said nothing.

A hundred forgings make a blade, yet the heart alone stays unchanged. When he had first learned to use a blade, the first thing he had learned was adaptability. But under the guidance of Mr. and Mrs. Zhao, he had gradually distilled that adaptability into an unchanging resolve. In Mr. Zhao’s teachings, it was said that once Grandmaster Zhou had remarked: scholars carry the ruler, warriors carry the blade. His blade cut through thorns and brambles, advancing without hesitation. The darker the road ahead, the more value his blade held in existing at all.

These past two years, though he had never mentioned it to anyone, he often thought of that couple. In darkness like this, that pair of elders, too, must surely be somewhere, cutting a path through this world with their own blades—just as Grandmaster Zhou once had, just as his comrade who had died today had. As long as such people existed, or had once existed, You Hongzhuo understood clearly what he himself needed to do.

He suddenly opened his eyes and set his hand on his blade.

In the darkness of the night, a sound approached—drawing closer, carrying with it a faint clash of metal. It was the city’s troops. Amid such fierce internal conflict, Weisheng’s garrison had split into two factions, and no one knew when either side might strike. Through the pouring rain, the garrison troops ran past, torches in hand, soon passing in front of this residence.

—Heading toward the Tianji Palace.

“I’ll go take a look.”

You Hongzhuo’s figure was already rising silently. He rolled up a piece of oilcloth and slipped out through the attic window like a loach, running across the rooftops. Amid the pouring rain, he looked around in every direction, and once he confirmed that only that small squad of soldiers had passed by, he let his guard down.

If a large body of troops had surged toward the Tianji Palace at this hour, it might have meant a coup was already underway—and at such a time, all of them, too, would have been drawn into the fighting.

But on a night like this, a small squad of soldiers moving at such a hurried pace more likely meant… a message was being delivered.

You Hongzhuo returned to the attic, sank into stillness in a corner, and waited for the night to pass, so that once his wounds had stabilized, he could rejoin the next round of what seemed like endless slaughter…

…

In the heavy darkness of the night, the city guards led a scout, mud-caked from head to toe, through gate after gate of the Tianji Palace.

The latest news from the Linzhou battlefield had been rushed to Weisheng at the first possible moment. The scout, crossing mountain after mountain, had broken his leg in the falling rain and darkness, but he had not stopped, arriving in Weisheng in the early hours of the tenth.

This was the most urgent of news. The scout had chosen to enter through the city gate controlled by Lou Shuwan’s faction, but given the severity of his injuries, the messenger’s spirit was faltering, and the officers and soldiers guarding the gate could not help feeling a chill of dread, given the rumors that had circulated through the city these past two days—fearing that the scout carried word of the Black Banner’s defeat.

Lou Shuwan, a robe thrown over her shoulders, arrived at the meeting hall the moment word reached her. She had just gone to bed, but in truth, after blowing out the lamp, she had been unable to close her eyes. The scout, with his broken leg, soaked through with rain, was still trembling as he crossed the vast, cold outer grounds of the Tianji Palace. He handed her the sealed letter he carried, and as he delivered the news, no one present could quite believe it—including the young officer supporting him who had not yet had time to leave.

“…The Huaxia Army has defeated Shulisu at Linzhou, has directly crushed Shulisu’s assault by more than thirty thousand elite Jurchen troops. The Jurchens have suffered heavy losses; Shulisu’s life or death remains unknown. Their army has withdrawn twenty li and is still in retreat…”

“…What?” Lou Shuwan stood frozen where she was. The cold wind blowing in from outside the door stirred the hem of the black cloak behind her. For a moment, it seemed as if she had heard some hallucination. So the scout repeated it once more.

And the written message said exactly the same thing.

“Why hasn’t the charcoal arrived yet, where’s the physician—tend to this brave man’s wounds, find him a place to rest.” Her gaze was scattered; even after reading the brief letter twice, she still seemed dazed, yet her mouth was already issuing a stream of orders. The scout looked utterly exhausted; she glanced at him twice. “Can you hold on? After they’ve bandaged you, I want to hear it from your own mouth… the situation at Linzhou… they say… it’ll take a long time to settle…”

Those in power are not supposed to lay their feelings bare before others, but in this moment, Lou Shuwan could not help letting it show. In the battle of Linzhou, Shulisu had set out on the fourth, arrived on the sixth, and attacked on the seventh—by the sixth, the situation had, in effect, already been made clear. Since the Black Banner had not withdrawn, if they failed to repel Shulisu, they would never be able to leave at all—the Jurchens had abundant cavalry, and there was simply no possibility of an orderly retreat after a single battle. And even setting aside the question of who would win or lose, anyone with sense could roughly guess the outcome of thirty thousand elite Jurchen troops against ten thousand of the Black Banner.

It was now the early hours of the tenth, and news like this had come suddenly. Lou Shuwan could not help but suspect it might be some malicious ploy—yet the scout’s identity was one she could trust.

“I can hold on…” the scout said, forcing himself to nod, and then continued, “Chancellor, it’s true—we won.”

“…The Huaxia Army, together with the Linzhou garrison, took the initiative to strike Shulisu’s forces…”

“…The fighting was extremely brutal, but—we crushed Shulisu head-on…”

“…Twelve thousand Huaxia troops routed thirty-five thousand elite Jurchen soldiers. During the fighting, the Huaxia Army was scattered and regrouped, scattered again and regrouped again, but… we crushed Shulisu head-on.”

The physician arrived, and the scout was helped aside. Wind blew in through the door, and the cloak behind Lou Shuwan swayed, making her figure look especially slight, yet she felt no cold. She walked quietly to her desk and stood in silence for a long while. “Send my orders…” she said, though her voice was very low, and no order actually followed. Her thin face showed weary eyes, and something glistened, dripping down from them.

Two lines of tears fell. She raised her head, and her gaze had already turned resolute.

“Send my orders—”

The night wind blew fierce and cold; Weisheng was about to stir into motion.

…

The sky gradually brightened.

You Hongzhuo woke with a start from his sleep; a column of horses was riding past on the street outside.

The rain was still falling. Somewhere in the distance, someone was striking a gong, shouting something.

He listened carefully.

Before long, You Hongzhuo threw on his straw raincoat and, like everyone else, pushed open his door and stepped out onto the street. From the neighboring houses and the residences across the way, people were also coming out, asking: “…What did they say?”

“Victory at Linzhou! The Huaxia Army has dealt the Jurchens a crushing defeat, the Jurchen general Shulisu’s fate is unknown—”

“Twelve thousand Huaxia troops, together with over twenty thousand from the Linzhou garrison, crushed Shulisu’s elite Jurchen forces and their allied troops, over seventy thousand strong in total. A great victory at Linzhou—the Jurchen general Shulisu killed in battle—”

All sorts of voices rang out. People burst from their homes and rushed out into the spring rain on the streets.

At the Liao family’s old estate on the outskirts of the city, people ran about in panic. Liao Yiren, his hair entirely white, set his palm down on the table, his lips trembling with intense emotion. “Impossible. Thirty-five thousand elite Jurchen troops—this is impossible… that woman is lying!”

“Granduncle, many people already believe it. Word has come to our side as well… the Second and Third Branches are in an uproar, wanting to pack up and flee…”

“The city garrison has already mobilized. Wu Xiangyuan and the others have received their orders—that woman means to strike while the iron is hot… With this news out, I fear some below us may already be turning coats…”

“Fools, absolute fools—summon them here, I’ll speak with them myself. We must hold the line—the Jurchens still have over two hundred thousand troops under Zonghan and Xiyin, ready to strike at any moment. Hold the line, or we all die—”

Countless orders were already being issued from the Tianji Palace as their center. Chaos was spreading, and tensions were about to sharpen.

Inside the Tianji Palace, the maid Yuan Xiaoqiu entered the room and quietly tightened the curtain that had been stirred by the wind. Passing by the bed, she saw that the Chancellor, having washed up, had for the first time in all these days fallen into a peaceful sleep. She held her quilt close, her face pale and thin, the corners of her mouth slightly relaxed, as if the trace of a smile had surfaced.

This was the first time Yuan Xiaoqiu had ever seen the Chancellor smile after setting down her burdens.

She quietly left the room and closed the door behind her. Outside, in the square, the rain was still falling. Far off, atop the towering city wall, a tall, upright figure stood there, gazing out at the scene beyond the Tianji Palace—it was Shi Jin.

The clouds above remained dark and heavy, but it seemed that at the far edge of the clouds, a thread of light had broken through and was descending.

—But it was a false light.

At the Jurchen main camp, the generals were gathering, discussing the news that had come from the south. The report from Linzhou was so unexpected that even within the Jurchen army, the first reaction was to assume it was false news.

“Perhaps it’s some trick of that Mind Demon.” After receiving the report, the general Wanyan Saba pondered for a long while before arriving at this conjecture.

But before long, the matter was confirmed to be true.

More detailed information soon came pouring in as well.

In his small tent, Wanyan Xiyin questioned the Jurchen soldiers who had withdrawn from Linzhou, one after another, personally interviewing them for nearly an entire day. When Zonghan came to find him, he sat as silent as stone.

“Well?”

“…There’s no deception.”

“…”

“Just over twelve thousand of the Black Banner, plus more than twenty thousand from the Linzhou garrison—some of whom we had even managed to turn to our side. Shulisu was eager to take the city, and the Black Banner chose to launch a surprise attack. Though Shulisu was ultimately gravely wounded, even before that happened… thirty-five thousand against twelve thousand of the Black Banner—in practice, our men had already been beaten into disarray. The situation was too chaotic; the Han troops were just filler, of little use. The Black Banner Army was scattered again and again, and our own men were scattered again and again as well…”

Xiyin spoke calmly. “…Scattered, then regrouped, regrouped, then scattered again—but even before Shulisu was gravely wounded, those thirty-five thousand men were already on the verge of defeat. Which is to say, even without his wound, this battle would still have…”

He opened his mouth, but did not finish the sentence. Zonghan, however, already understood completely. He patted his old friend on the shoulder. “Thirty years sweeping across this world, countless battles fought—and to have something like this happen in my old age is more than a little disheartening. But… it’s also true that Shulisu, too eager for victory, let himself be caught in a trap. Gushen, ah—now that this has happened, those men you arranged in the south will likely be scared out of their wits, and that little girl in Weisheng is probably laughing right now.”

Xiyin laughed as well. “The Grand Marshal already has it all figured out—no need to laugh at me.”

“Mm.” Zonghan nodded.

“We march out tomorrow.”

Beneath the dim sky, the Jurchen camp stirred like a vast anthill, banners, war horns, and the sound of runners carrying messages surging up together with the early spring rain.

When schemes could no longer carry the day, the truly massive machinery of war would have to awaken ahead of schedule.

Tian Shi had died after all; the fracture had already occurred. Even in the most difficult of circumstances, the army that had crushed Shulisu—originally no more than ten thousand-odd men of the Huaxia Army—had already exhausted itself in this great battle. This time, across the entirety of the land of Jin, there would be no one left who could stand in the way of this army’s march south.

At the same time, the Battle of Xuzhou was beginning in earnest.

Spring thunder cut across the sky; heaven and earth stirred from their winter slumber.