In mid-May, north of the Yellow River, clear skies and rain traded off with each other. Across the land, city after city sat wrapped in a gloomy, murderous atmosphere.

Compared to the Central Plains of ten years ago, the people still surviving on this stretch of earth were now few. Great numbers of villages and fields had gone to waste; houses of mud brick or thatch collapsed and rotted in the alternating heat and damp, and along roads long unrepaired, refugees stumbled past the starved and emaciated corpses littering the roadside.

Armies as ragged and destitute-looking as the refugees themselves shifted from city to city. Across the vast stretches of the Jingdong East Circuit and Hebei East Circuit, more than two hundred thousand troops had already begun massing in the area around Liangshan, forming a colossal ring of siege and blockade.

The aftershocks of the battle for Daming Prefecture had not yet faded, and already the fires of a new war were brewing.

Of course, compared to the airtight precision with which Wanyan Chang had directed the assault on Daming Prefecture, the siege of tens of thousands of troops against the Liangshan marshes was rather more chaotic and disorganized. Back then, Wanyan Chang had commanded the battle personally with thirty thousand elite troops; when the Guangwu Army and Huaxia Army fought their way out with everything they had, Wanyan Chang, though he responded with composure, still saw his entire force suffer tremendous casualties under their do-or-die offensive.

Now, with barely twenty thousand Jurchen troops needed to hold down the situation across a quarter of the Central Plains, there were few men left to spare as overseers for the siege of Liangshan. And the mobilization and gathering of two hundred thousand troops was itself an enormous burden on these Han armies, which had already been starved of military resources to begin with. Once they arrived near Liangshan, these troops took to fishing, took to plundering — and beyond making life miserable for the people around them, they did little of real substance to seal off the blockade line.

Faced with this state of affairs, Wanyan Chang had already done everything within his power. Slowly gathering boats together so that an eventual assault could be launched on Liangshan as a whole was already as much as he could hope to achieve. However half-hearted the posture of these Han troops, two hundred-odd thousand men descending on a few tens of thousands of the old, weak, women, and children on that island would, in the end, be enough to sever the last route of survival for the Huaxia Army and the Guangwu Army. As for him, though he could freely execute or replace Han commanders as he pleased, with too few Jurchen troops available to oversee the fighting, swapping out commanders one after another no longer accomplished much.

It was said that a small number of soldiers were also gradually slipping back into Liangshan one by one — which suited him just fine, since it meant they could all be caught in a single net.

If two hundred thousand men fighting a few tens of thousands of the old and weak could still lose, then he would simply bring in another wave to keep fighting. In any case, the conscription in this region always drained the blood and vigor of the Han people of the Central Plains, and Wanyan Chang cared little how many bodies he had to pour into it.

On the twelfth day of the fifth month, the weather gradually cleared from overcast skies, and along a stretch of reed marshes on the southern shore of the Liangshan waters, a convoy of carts made its way over the rugged road. Riding at the head of the convoy was a commander of utterly unremarkable appearance, his beard and hair half gray; though his frame still looked sturdy, even in his general’s uniform he carried no trace of martial hardness. When the convoy reached the water’s edge, a man beside the general strode forward a few steps and gave a sharp whistle, and several small boats emerged from the reeds.

The man who had whistled was of medium build and equally unremarkable in appearance — but it was in fact “Prodigal” Yan Qing, wearing a disguise. Seeing the boats approach, a long-haired woman in a black robe lifted the curtain of the carriage behind them and stepped out. It was Li Shishi, who though already past thirty, seemed only to have grown more limpid and settled in bearing with the years.

Since childhood she had possessed sharp insight and a compassionate heart, seeing clearly through many things; over these years, though she had worried for the world and moved restlessly from place to place, her resolve had only grown clearer, never once lost in confusion. This was why, even now, her figure and features still held the delicate beauty of a young girl, and yet her eyes carried the clarity of one who had seen through the affairs of the world. As the old saying goes, the highest good is like water — and at past thirty, she seemed more like a piece of crystal.

The old general on horseback looked over this way, not blinking for a long while, until Yan Qing walked back over and cupped his hands toward him. “General Huang, forgive the offense earlier.”

The general, named Huang Guangde, sighed. “No offense, no offense. Hurry along now — from here on, we don’t know each other.” There was a touch of regret in his tone, but also a certain worldly acceptance.

Shishi walked over as well. “Thank you, Master Huang.”

“Ah, enough, enough…” Huang Guangde waved his hand repeatedly. “I’ve troubled you all. Best if we never see each other again from now on.”

“From this day forward, we do not know General Huang.” Several figures emerged from the carriage behind them, and the one who spoke first had his head wrapped in gauze bandages, a hideous scar visible peeking out between the bandages near his eyes — the flesh split open, quite ghastly to look at. Huang Guangde glanced at him once and quickly looked away, muttering with distaste, “That’s plenty of help already.”

“It’s only that in the days ahead, if our paths cross on the battlefield fighting on opposite sides, please do take care of yourself, General Huang. And of course, should you ever need anything, cough, cough… this Wang here would never refuse.” The man speaking, though his head was wrapped in bandages, carried himself with a dignified bearing; only the couple of coughs betrayed that his injuries were still with him. Beside him stood a tall woman dressed in men’s clothing, her face carrying a hint of killing intent, her left arm severed at the wrist — yet her features made clear that this was Hu Sanniang.

Behind them followed a dozen or so men, some wounded, some maimed, yet even injured as they were, many of them still radiated a startling air of ferocity. These soldiers, returning from what had been a slaughterhouse of a battlefield, boarded the boats one after another before long.

Li Shishi and Huang Guangde spoke together for a while longer. Huang Guangde stayed mounted on his horse the entire time, never once dismounting. Then Shishi bowed and boarded the boat as well. As the small boat pulled away, Yan Qing lingered on the shore, exchanging a few more words with Huang Guangde.

On the night of the breakout from Daming Prefecture, Yan Qing had handled matters in the rear — no less dangerous than the front lines — but fortunately his martial skill was formidable, and he ended up among the first to escape to safety. Afterward he made contact with Lu Junyi and others recovering from their wounds in the rear, and began working to rescue their comrades. A few days earlier, word had come from Lady Shishi that she intended to marry Huang Guangde as a concubine, and that she had also managed to save some people. Yan Qing had sensed something was off about this, and two days ago had secretly tailed Huang Guangde, intending to strike at him.

Who would have thought that when the moment came to act, he discovered Huang Guangde harbored little in the way of defenses at all. The man led Yan Qing to see Li Shishi, who had been hidden away in secret, and it was only then that Yan Qing discovered that the villa where Li Shishi was staying also concealed a number of wounded soldiers from the Guangwu Army and the Huaxia Army. Most surprising of all was finding Wang Shanyue and Hu Sanniang there.

That this husband and wife had not died was an enormous and welcome surprise for the two resistance armies. And that Huang Guangde had been hiding the Wang couple all this while — the risk he had taken on could well be imagined. Yan Qing knew then that he could no longer move against Huang Guangde, though he worried Shishi might end up paying the price with her own life. Yet after talking with Huang Guangde for a while, he learned that what the man actually wanted was to get Li Shishi, Wang Shanyue, and the others away as quickly as possible. He had already taken a great risk hiding them for this long, and if he kept Li Shishi at his estate, wouldn’t she risk death at any moment?

That was what Huang Guangde said — but even now, as Shishi boarded the boat, the old man’s gaze on horseback lingered long on her retreating figure without moving away, and Yan Qing understood then that this man did, in fact, harbor feelings for Li Shishi.

“Since General Huang is so reluctant to part with her, why not just bring your troops up to Liangshan?” The words were out of Yan Qing’s mouth before he could stop himself, and he silently cursed his own loose tongue. Fortunately, Huang Guangde only shot him a glance.

“Go up Liangshan with the likes of you? Wouldn’t that just be throwing my life away? How many more days do you lot even have left to live?”

Yan Qing lowered his head and rubbed his nose, and said no more on the matter.

Just then sunlight spread across the surface of the marsh waters, the reeds swaying far and near. Shishi rose from her seat on the boat and bowed toward the shore. Huang Guangde watched her figure, raising a hand and giving a faint wave.

The splendor of Bian Liang more than ten years ago still felt close before his eyes — back then, he had passed the examinations and traveled to the capital, and though his efforts to secure an official post had gone nowhere, those days and nights spent at the Fan Tower remained the brightest, most vivid memory in his heart.

Then the Jurchens came, Bian Liang fell, and the Central Plains grew more broken by the day — decrepit cities, collapsed houses, heaps of bleached bones along the roadside were the reality before his eyes now, and one careless step could well make it his own fate tomorrow.

Across more than ten years, Li Shishi still carried with her the feeling of the Wu Dynasty at its finest, and Huang Guangde’s heart sank into that feeling. On one hand he had turned down Li Shishi; on the other, he had reached out on the battlefield with far less resolve than he pretended, saving these people — and afterward his heart had lived in constant dread of when it might all come to light. The Jurchens showed no mercy at all when it came to killing Han officials, and the longer this dragged on, even those closest to him might no longer be trustworthy.

It was for this reason that he dared not touch Li Shishi at all — never mind the rumors that this woman belonged, in some sense, to the demon in the heart named Ning Yi. If he really did take her as a concubine, given what he now intended to do to help the Huaxia Army and the Guangwu Army, he felt he would only be courting death.

By the swaying reeds at the water’s edge, General Huang Guangde, nearly fifty years of age, watched for a long while as that figure vanished into the distant reeds and rosy light, as though bidding farewell once more to a past he had never truly let go of these ten-odd years. When he turned back, what awaited him was a future every bit as brutal as everyone else’s.

Yan Qing sighed and turned to head in another direction. Though for someone more ruthless, the Huaxia Army side could have used this secret to pressure General Huang further, under the current circumstances, the man had already done more than enough. All the Huaxia Army could do was hold this gratitude in their hearts.

Days of continuous heavy rain had swollen the marsh waters further, stretching them wide. At another shore beyond the range of sight, some figures pushed off on rafts they had lashed together, beginning to cross the waterways toward Liangshan.

The little fleet of boats on this side likewise made its way toward Liangshan. At the rear of one boat, Li Shishi sat with her knees drawn up, looking back the way they had come. In these recent days, she had already prepared herself to give up her body in sacrifice, but the choice Huang Guangde had made left her with a wistful, sighing feeling.

Toward Huang Guangde himself, she felt nothing beyond gratitude. Now, along with a touch of feeling, she also let out a small breath of relief. Beside her, Hu Sanniang came over to ask about matters of the heart. “Do you really still like that man surnamed Ning? He’s really no good person at all… Also, if you like him, you should just go to the southwest.”

Shishi tugged at Hu Sanniang’s sleeve and only smiled. Did she like Ning Yi? Once, certainly she had. But now, at this age, having seen so much, the line between yes and no had grown rather blurred. The world was in chaos, too many people had died before her eyes; she wanted to do something, and yet she was no more than a powerless, delicate woman, pleading and even kneeling to others wherever she went. If it truly took marrying some man to save more lives, Shishi felt… she actually would not mind it anymore.

But turning it over in her mind — if she really had to say whether she liked him, then yes, of course she did. It was a very faint, very light sort of liking. When she had been about to marry Huang Guangde, she had specifically asked the Huaxia Army’s intelligence contacts in the area to send word to the southwest. Now that her heart had settled, she found she could quietly wonder — when Ning Yi in the southwest learned this news, what kind of feeling would wash over him?

Just thinking of this, she found it rather amusing.

The little fleet sailed on for a while, and in the distance, another line of rafts came into view, exchanging distant signals — and it seemed they were their own people. As the boats drew close enough, Shishi suddenly stood up straight; she realized that among those standing on the rafts across the water were not only members of the Guangwu Army and Huaxia Army, but also Zhu Biao and Lu Junyi.

The eight-hundred-li marshes of Liangshan, though they could stir up waves, were ordinarily passable even by small boats. On the small raft opposite, Zhu Biao, bandages wrapped around his body, still stood tall and full of swagger. From the bow of the boat on this side, Wang Shanyue, his entire head wrapped in bandages, called out loudly, “A few days back, some expert broke into the new camp to spring a prisoner — wasn’t that you two?”

“Well, obviously! Your Scorched-City Spear Master Biao here has been unrivaled under heaven for ages now — a few measly cats and dogs lying in ambush, how could they possibly stop me… uh, and yes, with a little help from this sidekick Lu here too — hey? What kind of monster is that bun-head over there!?”

Though Wang Shanyue’s head was wrapped in bandages, his voice was unmistakable, and Zhu Biao’s loud teasing was clearly meant in jest — Shishi at the stern of the boat had already burst out laughing. Wang Shanyue gave a proud snort and began undoing the bandages wrapped around his head.

When the bandages finally came off, a knife scar was revealed slashing down across Wang Shanyue’s face — a face that had once looked as delicate and beautiful as a woman’s — the flesh still split open and unhealed, ghastly to behold. “Took a bit of a wound,” Wang Shanyue said, his tone carrying a note of self-satisfaction. Someone on the raft who had originally felt sorrow at the sight now burst out laughing instead. In truth, Wang Shanyue had long been troubled by his own overly delicate, feminine looks; now, with his face marred by this scar, far from being upset, he seemed rather pleased with his own ferocious-looking wound.

Zhu Biao froze for a moment, then clutched his stomach and roared with laughter, laughing so hard he could barely close his mouth. “Hahahaha, so even you have a day like this…” His laughter set off everyone else, and soon Wang Shanyue and the people on this boat couldn’t help laughing along either.

As for Hu Sanniang losing a hand, Zhu Biao and the others didn’t seem to mind either, joking away cheerfully: “In the future you can learn swordsmanship from Du Sha — he only got that good after losing an arm himself.”

Then, after a moment: “You two as husband and wife could take up the martial arts road together and go by the nickname ‘Heaven-Maimed, Earth-Missing’ — hahahaha—”

Amid this shameless teasing, laughter of every kind rang out over the water; anyone unaware of the circumstances might have mistaken them for soldiers returning from a great victory.

The fleet sailed onward, and after a while, a large ship appeared on the lake, and everyone boarded it one after another. In the distance, Liangshan finally came into view within the marsh waters, and atop the island, a row of enormous soul-summoning banners fluttered in the wind, traces of spirit money scattered across the water’s surface. As Zhu Biao and Wang Shanyue stood together at the bow, Zhu Biao glanced at him and suddenly shoved him flying off the boat, then stood there at the bow looking pleased with himself, still full of swagger. At that same moment, someone at the ship’s rail called out, “Look, everyone — there are more people over there too!”

At the edge of their vision, several more small boats were approaching from the distance, the people aboard them waving their arms vigorously — more people returning from the outside world. Those on the boats called out greetings, laughing loudly, and Shishi laughed along with them — until suddenly, tears began streaming down her face. In that instant, seeing those white banners fluttering on the island, she suddenly felt as though countless small boats were converging on this little island from every direction — as if thousands upon thousands of heroic souls were gathering here, drawn on by the sound of war drums and laughter.

Coming home.