Crimson light spread across the night sky, followed by shouts, screams, wailing — tree leaves danced upward on the heat, and the wind howled.
The wind that night was unexpectedly fierce. The raging fires had already swallowed several long streets within Yunzhong Prefecture and were spreading further still. As the flames intensified, the rampage of the bandits inside Yunzhong reached its peak.
The moment they learned Shi Yuanji’s identity, Xiao Shuqing, Long Jiuyuan, and the other desperate men understood there was no longer any road to surrender. Years of living on the knife’s edge told them clearly enough what awaited them if captured — a fate worse than death. From here on, there was only one path left.
Once the city descended into chaos that night, some of Yunzhong’s nobility were merely startled, while a small few, upon hearing the news, wore expressions of dawning realization. That some group had struck at the Qi household came as no surprise, sooner or later — some of the sharper-nosed among them were even weighing whether to join in themselves tonight. It was only the news that came afterward that left people genuinely shaken.
At Xiyin’s residence, the moment Wanyan Youyi heard of the chaos breaking out, his first reaction was simply astonishment at his mother’s sharp instincts on the matter. Then the fire spread, and things spiraled completely out of control. The atmosphere within his own household grew tense as well — the household guards were gathering, and his mother came and knocked on his door. Wanyan Youyi opened it to find his mother already dressed in a long cloak, plainly prepared to go out, his elder brother Dezhong standing beside her.
“Something’s happened at the Qi household — Shi Yuanji is dead. Xiao Shuqing and a band of rebels are running loose through the city setting fires. The wind is fierce tonight, and the blaze is hard to contain. The city doesn’t have enough water-dragon pumps — we have twenty of our own. Dezhong, you and Youyi lead the way, go first to report to Lord Shi and tell him our household guards and pump crews are entirely at his disposal.”
Chen Wenjun was nearing fifty. Though she lived a life of fine silks and comfort day to day, white had already crept into her hair. Yet the moment she gave orders, her manner was crisp and decisive, matching any man’s, commanding real respect.
“Lord Shi won’t accept the use of our household guards, but he’ll take the pump crews. Deliver the men, then come straight back. Your father is away from home — you two are the pillars of this household now, but this is not the time to overreach. Conduct yourselves cleanly and well, and people will remember it.”
As she spoke, she straightened Wanyan Youyi’s shoulders and cuffs, then said gravely, “Remember — the situation is chaotic, and the bandits, knowing they have no hope of survival, will fight like cornered beasts. Each of you take twenty personal guards, mind your safety, and if there’s nothing further, go and come back quickly.”
Wanyan Dezhong and Wanyan Youyi took their orders and departed. Outside the city, the garrison troops were already mobilizing on a massive scale, sealing off every gate. A garrison commander of noble birth had his command stripped from him within the first moments.
Shi Li’ai had made his move.
That night, fire and chaos raged through the city for hours on end, with many smaller undercurrents unfolding unseen. At the Grand Manufacturing Court, the Black Banner’s sabotage burned through half a warehouse of blueprints; several Wu Dynasty craftsmen who had taken part in the disturbance were killed after carrying out the destruction. Meanwhile, outside the city at Xinzhuang, amid the chaos following the murder of Shi Li’ai’s grandson and the stripping of the garrison commander’s authority, Black Banner operatives — long prepared for such an opportunity — rescued more than a dozen Black Banner agents who had been held captive there. Of course, on the night of the fifth, hardly anyone in Yunzhong Prefecture yet knew of this.
Tang Minjie moved through the alleys, sensing that the zone of chaos in the city was steadily being compressed. As he approached the modest courtyard where he was temporarily lodging, he sensed something was wrong.
A blade slid toward him from the side. Someone shut the door behind him. In the dark room ahead, someone was waiting for him.
The blade pressed against his throat. Tang Minjie raised both hands and was shoved through the doorway. Outside, the sounds of chaos still echoed, firelight reflecting off the sky and then off the window, sketching faint outlines of the room’s contents. Someone sat in the seat across from him.
“Is this what the Huaxia Army is made of — people like you?”
“Wh-wh-what… my lords, my lords…”
“Don’t play the fool. I know exactly who you are. That Ning Yi’s disciple turns out to be such trash — I’m truly disappointed!”
“Heh heh… I played that pretty well, didn’t I, Lady Wanyan. First meeting — no need for… all this, is there?”
Tang Minjie gestured toward the blade at his throat, but it didn’t move away. Chen Wenjun rose slowly from her seat.
“Listen to the sounds outside. Feeling rather pleased with yourself, aren’t you? What’s your little nickname — Clown?” The woman shook her head in the darkness, her voice low and controlled. “Do you even understand what you’ve done?”
“Uh… made bad people unhappy?” Tang Minjie thought it over. “Of course, I’m not saying you’re a bad person, my lady — you’re obviously very happy, and I’m happy too, so I’m a good person, and you’re a good person, so you’re happy too… though it sounds like, uh, is something bothering you?”
“Pleased with yourself? Hmph. Well, I suppose a man like you would be.” Chen Wenjun’s voice dropped low. “You struck at the Qi family, assassinated Shi Li’ai’s grandson, and in the process killed over a dozen worthless children along with him. You blew up a pile of scrap paper at the Grand Manufacturing Court, dragging down the poor souls you’d deceived into it. Outside the city, you may have rescued a dozen or so Black Banner heroes. Do you have any idea what happens next?
“The entire Jurchen court, top to bottom, will be enraged. The men fighting at the front will kill without mercy! Every city they take, they’ll slaughter the people worse than before! No one will be able to stop them! And what did this accomplish? You killed a dozen worthless children — beyond venting your spite, what impact do you imagine this had on the Jurchens? You lunatic! Lu Mingfang spent years painstakingly building his network in Yunzhong, and you used it to blow up a pile of scrap paper! To save a dozen people! Starting tomorrow, the entire Jin state will launch a purge of every Han slave — tens of thousands will die, the poor craftsmen at the Grand Manufacturing Court will die by the dozens, anyone under the slightest suspicion won’t survive! Lu Mingfang’s entire network across Yunzhong Prefecture is finished! Do you understand that?!”
“Uh…” Tang Minjie thought about it. “Yeah, I understand.”
“You—”
“But isn’t war exactly this — kill or be killed, my lady… Lady Wanyan… Lady Chen… ah, well, since everyone usually just calls you ‘that lady,’ I’m not sure whether to call you Lady Wanyan or Lady Chen, but… anyway, the Jurchens slaughtering people in the south is actually a good thing. Their massacres are what teach the people of the Wu Dynasty that surrender is a fantasy — the more cities they butcher, the more backbone the survivors will find, and they’ll fight the Jurchens to the end. The Qi family’s death will teach others that there’s no good end for traitors to their own people. And besides… I didn’t kill the Qi family — the Jurchens did. As for the Manufacturing Court, Lady Wanyan, in our line of work, some missions succeed and some fail. People die either way. I didn’t want them to die either. I… actually, I’m quite sad about it. I…”
In the dark, Tang Minjie’s voice trailed into something like a sob. Chen Wenjun’s chest heaved; she stood frozen for a moment. “I think I should kill you.”
The blade at his throat tightened. Tang Minjie swallowed his sobbing. “Wait, wait, okay, okay, fine, I forgot — only bad people cry today… wait, wait, Lady Wanyan, and the one beside you — like my teacher always says, let’s be mature about this, no need to keep threatening each other. First time meeting and all, I think today’s little performance turned out pretty well. The way you’re talking makes me feel quite wronged, you know — my teacher used to praise me all the time…”
“That’s because your teacher is a lunatic too! Seeing you, now I understand exactly what kind of lunatic he is!” Chen Wenjun pointed toward the faint commotion and glow outside the window. “Look at this fire! Even if those nobles deserved to die, even if you did it just to vent your spite — do you have any idea how many people are going to die in this blaze tonight? Among them Jurchens, Khitans, Han — the old, the young! Is this how you people operate? Do you have any humanity at all?”
“The wind was too strong.” Tang Minjie stared wide-eyed. “The wind — the wind was just too strong…”
Chen Wenjun stared at him in the dark, nearly suffocating with fury. Tang Minjie fell silent for a moment, then sat down on the stool behind him. After a while, his voice came again.
“Even though… even though you clearly have a lot of prejudice against me, my lady, I do want to remind you of something. Things are a bit tense tonight — there’s a chief constable who’s been tracking me down, and I expect he’ll trace things here. If he sees you here with me… the things I did tonight — might that suddenly become very effective? Might you suddenly come to admire me quite a bit? You see, such a huge affair, and in the end it turns out… heh heh heh heh…”
He laughed in the dark. In the room, Chen Wenjun and the others’ gazes sharpened abruptly; there was movement on the roof outside as well. Just before the blade could come slashing down, Tang Minjie waved both hands. “Joking, joking, all a joke! My teacher told me that cracking jokes when you’re in danger works really well — makes you seem like you’ve got a sense of humor, good at telling stories, and not so afraid of dying… Lady Wanyan, how many years have you been at Xiyin’s side?”
Chen Wenjun didn’t answer. Tang Minjie’s words carried on. “I really respect you, I truly admire you. My teacher says — hmm, you’ve got the wrong idea about my teacher, he’s a good man — he says that whenever possible, when we operate in enemy territory, we should try, unless absolutely necessary, to act according to principle. But I… uh, before I came here I could understand that sentence. After I got here, I stopped being able to.
“I’ve seen so much… wickedness, tragedies too numerous to record. I’ve seen… the Han people here, suffering like this — is this even a life fit for a human being? No — not even dogs live like this… Lady Wanyan, have you seen people with their hands and feet cut off? Have you seen the Han slaves with their shoulder blades pierced through? Seen the girls driven mad in the brothels? You’ve seen… uh, you’ve seen it all, haven’t you, heh heh, Lady Wanyan… I really admire you. You know exactly what would happen to you if your true identity were exposed, and yet you still do what needs to be done. I’m not as good as you, I… heh heh… I feel like I’m living in hell…”
“I came from the Wu Dynasty. I’ve seen people suffer. I went to the northwest, saw people dying in droves. But it’s only here that every single day I open my eyes, all I can think about is setting a fire and burning everyone around me to death. Just on this street, two courtyards over, there’s a Jurchen household that keeps a Han slave — they crippled one of his legs, chopped off his right hand, chained him up, even cut out his tongue and knocked out his teeth… He used to be a soldier. Heh heh heh, now he doesn’t even have proper clothes, skin and bones like a dog. You know how he cries? Let me show you, I do it best — he… mmm mmm mmm uh uh uh, aaaahhhh…”
Tang Minjie’s imitated wailing rang out chillingly in the darkness, then shifted into uncontrollable low laughter. “Heh heh heh hahahaha… sorry, sorry, did I scare you? I’ve burned so many people to death, ah, so cruel of me, but…”
He shook his head for a long while. “Mmm, that was all… that was all the wind’s fault. That was… mmm…”
Silence fell over the room again. Sensing the other’s fury, Tang Minjie pressed his legs together and sat there, no longer arguing back, looking for all the world like an obedient child. Chen Wenjun took several deep breaths, still fully aware that the madman before her was utterly beyond reasoning with, and turned to walk out the door.
“I’ll discuss this matter with Lu Mingfang. Before then, if you act recklessly like this again, I’ll kill you.”
With those words dropped, she and the people who had come with her walked out of the room. But the instant she stepped past the doorway, a voice suddenly sounded behind her — no longer the glib, joking tone from before, but calm and firm.
“Lady Wanyan, war is a matter of kill or be killed — one people lives, another dies. Have you ever considered — if one day the Han defeat the Jurchens, if the northern campaign is truly won, where will you go home to?”
Chen Wenjun’s steps faltered. Before she could speak, the voice behind her turned abruptly cheerful again.
“Heh heh, the Huaxia Army welcomes you!”
Chen Wenjun’s jaw clenched. She drew the dagger at her hip, spun, and hurled it in one motion. The dagger flew into the darkness of the room and vanished without a sound. She drew two deep breaths, finally suppressing her fury, and strode away.
In the darkness of the room, Tang Minjie covered his face with both hands and sat motionless. Only once Chen Wenjun and the others were completely gone did he lower his hands — a knife-slash across his face, his hands smeared with blood. He curled his lip. “Married to a Jurchen and not the least bit gentle…”
The night burned on, then gradually settled. On the second and third days, the city remained under lockdown, the investigation into the whole affair continuing without pause, more developments quietly brewing beneath the surface. By the fourth day, large numbers of Han slaves and even Khitans were being dragged out — thrown into prison or sent straight to execution — until blood ran thick both inside and outside Yunzhong Prefecture. A preliminary conclusion had already been reached: this catastrophic incident had been the work of a conspiracy between the Black Banner Army and agents of the Wu Dynasty.
But internally, of course, there were different views.
The thread of events behind the Yunzhong Massacre was soon pieced together by the interrogators involved. It was Wanyan Wenqin — a minor, unremarkable noble scion within Yunzhong — who had first organized and instigated the whole affair. Though ringleaders like Xiao Shuqing and Long Jiuyuan had mostly died fighting to the last in the chaos, some of the underlings had been captured. Another garrison commander implicated in the plot, Wanyan Fang, under pressure from Shi Li’ai, also confessed to the fact that Wanyan Wenqin had conspired with and incited the others involved.
The true story of this affair could never be made public. Whether or not the whole thing looked shortsighted and foolish, the blame would still have to fall jointly on the Wu Dynasty and the Black Banner Army. On the sixth of July, the entire household of Wanyan Wenqin’s ducal estate was thrown into prison and put through interrogation. By the afternoon of the seventh, a new lead emerged — concerning a Han slave named Dai Mo who had served in Wanyan Wenqin’s household — which turned out to be the true root of the entire incident. This, at least, wasn’t difficult to trace.
The officials handling the case turned their attention to the now-dead Dai Mo. They examined some of the books he had left behind and compared them against manuscript fragments found in the deceased Wanyan Wenqin’s study, confirming the whole business of the so-called “Ghost Valley” strategic teachings had been an elaborate fraud. On the ninth of July, the constables conducted a second search of the room Dai Mo had lived in. That night, the chief constable Manduldalu was stationed at Wanyan Wenqin’s residence when his men found something.
Dai Mo had had a daughter, taken into Jin territory along with him. According to the testimony of some of the servants in Wanyan Wenqin’s household, this daughter had gone missing at some point and had never been found. But Dai Mo had recorded his daughter’s whereabouts in a hidden manuscript.
The instant Manduldalu laid eyes on that document, he closed his eyes, his stomach knotting.
After being taken captive into Jin territory, Dai Xiao’e had been assigned as a slave under Wanyan Zongfu’s name, and a year and a half earlier had arrived in Yunzhong Prefecture to work as a laborer in the textile workshops. During this time, one of Wanyan Zongfu’s household servants had once led Dai Xiao’e past at a distance, letting Dai Mo catch a single glimpse of her from afar…
“…A death agent, planted deep…”
At that moment, the manuscript Dai Mo had left behind felt as if it had been dipped in poison, scorching his palm. If he could, Manduldalu would have thrown it away, torn it up, burned it on the spot — but at this hour, a crowd of constables stood watching him. He had no choice but to hand the manuscript over to Shi Li’ai…
The sun was setting.
Tang Minjie walked through the streets of Yunzhong, the smell of blood thick in his nostrils. He looked at everything around him, his expression as humble, cautious, and unremarkable as ever.
War is a game of kill or be killed.
If it were possible, I’d only wish to drag myself down with it…