Wearing a yellow military uniform, carrying a medicine chest along with knives and spears, Ning Ji saw the ancient, simple walls of Zizhou Prefecture ahead of the army.
In the ninth month of the eleventh year of Wujian Shuo, the year Zhou Yong died, Ning Ji turned from thirteen to fourteen, gradually becoming a young man.
Over the past two years, having followed the army, Ning Ji had seen more than he had in the previous eleven years combined.
He was born at the time of the Jurchens’ first southern invasion, in the autumn of the thirteenth year of Jinghan. By the fourteenth year of Jinghan, when Ning Yi killed the emperor and rebelled, and the family fled to Xiaocang River, he was only one year old. His father had only just had time to name him then—killing the emperor and rebelling, becoming reviled by the world—it seemed a cold name, but was actually filled with heroic spirit.
Growing up in his early years in places like Xiaocang River and Qingmu Stockade, as he gradually began to remember things, the army turned again toward the southwestern mountains. Because of this, what Ning Ji saw from childhood was mostly a poor, relatively simple environment—parents, brothers, enemies, friends, all sorts of people were quite clear to him.
As the Huaxia Army fought its way out of Liangshan and entered the Chengdu Plain, after Ning Ji joined the army medical corps, his surroundings gradually began to grow more complicated. He began to see vast open plains, great cities, towering city walls, close-packed gardens, people living in extravagant excess, people with numb, dull eyes, people in tiny villages starving and slowly dying… These things were very different from what he had seen within the Huaxia Army’s own territory.
During his time with the medical corps, he sometimes felt gratitude and goodwill of different kinds, but at the same time, all sorts of malice came at him too.
In the more than ten years since Ning Yi killed Zhou Zhe, the world’s malice toward the Huaxia Army, toward Ning Yi’s family, had in fact never ceased. The Huaxia Army’s internal discipline and management were highly effective, so many conspiracies and assassination attempts had difficulty reaching close to Ning Yi’s family. But as their territory expanded these past two years, the world that Ning Xi, Ning Ji, and the others lived in inevitably could no longer stay confined to their original small circle. Although the news of Ning Ji joining the medical corps had been kept under wraps to some extent, it eventually leaked out through various channels.
In the year Ning Ji turned thirteen, he faced nine assassination attempts in total, two of which happened right before his eyes. In February of the eleventh year, he killed a man with his own hands for the first time; another followed in July. By now, this young man not yet fourteen already had three lives on his hands.
For Ning Ji, personally killing enemies had not caused too great a psychological shock. But over the past year or two, the many things he had felt in this complicated world had made him somewhat taciturn.
Since childhood, supplies within the Huaxia Army had never been especially abundant; mutual aid and frugality had always been things advocated within the ranks. What Ning Ji had seen from a young age was people supporting one another in harsh conditions—the older generation sharing their knowledge and understanding of the world with others in the army, and facing the enemy, Huaxia Army soldiers were always tenacious and unyielding.
After entering the Chengdu Plain, he discovered that this world was not like that. People living in abundance and prosperity led decadent lives; learned Confucian scholars who seemed knowledgeable opposed the Huaxia Army, arguing with pedantic classical rhetoric, which made him angry. Beneath them, farmers lived in a muddled daze—they lived poorly, yet believed this was simply how things ought to be. Some people living in hardship even held hostile attitudes toward Huaxia Army members who went to the countryside to give free medicine and treatment.
Why did these people live this way? Ning Ji couldn’t understand it. Over the past year or two, when enemies schemed to kill him, sometimes disguising themselves as pitiful figures to make their move, he had come to take it for granted.
The Huaxia Army’s teaching that one must be “as cold and merciless as deep winter toward enemies” was thoroughly instilled in him. Ning Ji had believed since childhood that enemies were necessarily cunning and vicious. The first assassin to truly get close to him was a dwarf woman who, at first glance, looked like a little girl. She mixed in among the rural crowd to get near Ning Ji under the pretext of seeking treatment. When her companion in the group was exposed, the dwarf suddenly struck—her dagger nearly reached Ning Ji’s throat as she tried to seize him as a hostage and flee.
The assassin underestimated the young man trained jointly by Lu Hongti, Liu Xigua, Chen Fan, Du Sha, and others. As the dagger thrust toward him, Ning Ji seized the blade with the flow of the motion and, with a reverse slash, cut the woman’s throat. Blood sprayed onto his clothes; he stepped back twice, ready at any moment to kill her companion among the crowd.
He wasn’t troubled by these encounters. His parents’ and elder brother’s hurried comfort afterward only made him feel warmth, though he didn’t feel it was necessary. The complicated world outside left him somewhat bewildered, but fortunately, something simpler and more direct was about to arrive.
In the second half of the eleventh year of Jianshuo, the situation on the Chengdu Plain had grown extremely tense. The Wu Dynasty was disintegrating, and a great war between the Jurchens and the Huaxia Army was about to become reality. Against this backdrop, the Huaxia Army began methodically absorbing and digesting the entire Chengdu Plain.
The Huaxia Army had begun fighting its way out of the Liangshan region in the ninth year of Jianshuo. The original plan was to annex the entire Sichuan Four Circuits, but later, due to the Jurchen advance southward, the Huaxia Army, in order to demonstrate its intentions, halted at Zizhou after breaking through to Chengdu.
Zizhou was located a hundred kilometers northeast of Chengdu—originally the second-largest city on the Chengdu Plain and a major commercial center. A hundred kilometers past Zizhou lay the most important pass controlling the Sichuan region: Jianmen Pass. As the Jurchens drew closer, these places all became critical points in the coming great war.
The Huaxia Army’s entry into Sichuan two years earlier had frightened off a number of local residents, but after the fighting stopped at Zizhou, quite a few local gentry and scholars loyal to the Wu Dynasty had settled there. Once things calmed somewhat, some began doing business with the Huaxia Army, and Zizhou became a transit point between the two powers, developing rapidly and prosperously within a single year.
By the second half of this year, the Huaxia Fifth Army began advancing toward Zizhou, and negotiations with various factions began accordingly. During this time there were naturally quite a few who came out to resist, to criticize, to accuse the Huaxia Army of having merely put on a show by halting its troops the year before. But with the Jurchens bearing down, everyone understood that mere verbal protest could not resolve these matters.
Because of this, although the great clans and gentry around Zizhou made quite a commotion in July and August, by late August the Huaxia Army had successfully negotiated the unconditional merger of Zizhou with the Huaxia Army. The army then entered the city, taking Zizhou without a single drop of blood being shed.
On September 11th, Ning Ji entered the city carrying his luggage with the third wave of troops. By this time, three regiments of the Huaxia Fifth Army—about five thousand men—had already begun pushing toward Jiange, and the engineering corps was moving into Zizhou in large numbers, strengthening the defensive works in the surrounding area. Some of the gentry, officials, and ordinary people originally living in Zizhou had begun evacuating toward the rear of the Chengdu Plain.
Amid this situation, the atmosphere inside and outside the ancient city of Zizhou was tense and grim. People focused on moving south; the streets were crowded, everyone hurrying along. Since some of the garrison patrols had already been taken over by Huaxia Army soldiers, order throughout had not broken down.
Ning Ji actually found this atmosphere familiar. He followed the army through the city, and the medical corps settled temporarily in a medical clinic near the military camp on the city’s east side. The clinic’s owner had originally been a wealthy man who had already left; the clinic had a shop in front and a courtyard behind, of considerable size, and now seemed quiet. Ning Ji set down his bundle in his room and, as usual, sharpened the three knives of varying lengths he carried. Before evening arrived, a young female officer in a dark blue military uniform came looking for him.
The young woman was a head taller than Ning Ji, her short hair reaching only to her shoulders, possessing a youthful, radiant beauty rarely seen—even considered unorthodox—in this era. Her smile was gentle. Seeing the young man crouched in the corner of the courtyard sharpening his blade, she walked straight over. “Ning Ji, you’ve arrived. Tired from the journey?”
“Sister-in-law.” Ning Ji smiled, rinsing with well water a short blade in his palm not even as long as a finger. As he stood up, the blade had already vanished into his sleeve. “Not tired at all.”
“Your elder brother wants me to bring you to dinner. He’s at the household registry office in the north of the city—too much to handle.”
The young woman who had come was Ning Xi’s fiancée, Min Chuyi, seventeen years old this year.
As Ning Yi’s eldest son, Ning Xi had over the past year or two gradually begun taking part in overall strategic coordination. With so much administrative work, it had become difficult for him to focus on martial training. By comparison, Min Chuyi and Ning Ji were the ones who had truly received Lu Hongti’s genuine instruction. Ning Xi was four years older than Ning Ji, but in martial skill, his abilities had already been faintly caught up to by Ning Ji, who was not yet fourteen. Min Chuyi, gentle in appearance, was in fact steadily above Ning Ji in skill. The two had trained together, and their bond was like that of siblings—many times, Ning Ji and Min Chuyi crossed paths more often than he did with his elder brother.
The two of them put away their things and walked north through the city. The Huaxia Army’s temporary household registry office was near the former Zizhou prefectural government building. Since the handover between the two sides had only just been completed, the verification of household registrations was being done in haste. For the sake of stability in the rear, the Huaxia Army had decreed that anyone wishing to leave the city southward must first complete a household registration review, which made the entire street in front of the government building bustling with noise, with hundreds of Huaxia Army soldiers maintaining order nearby.
Ning Xi’s workplace was in a teahouse courtyard nearby. He had been following Chen Tuozi in the Huaxia Army’s internal intelligence and espionage work for over a year now; several assassination attempts on Ning Ji by martial-world figures and even Jurchens had been intercepted by him. Ning Ji, now considerably shorter than his elder brother, felt somewhat dissatisfied about this, believing he too should be involved in such matters. But upon seeing his elder brother, the young man who had just recently transitioned from childhood was still quite pleased, calling out, “Elder Brother!” with a bright smile.
The two brothers went in to pay their respects to Chen Tuozi, and Ning Xi, having taken leave under a pretext, changed into plain clothes and took his younger brother to Zizhou’s most famous restaurant, the Red Tower, for refreshments. The two sat in a corner of the main hall. Ning Xi, perhaps inheriting his father’s habit, was quite curious about famous delicacies. Though young, Ning Ji had little appetite for fine food. This past year he had killed three assassins with his own hands; though he sometimes felt fear afterward, more often, like his father, he had a vague sense that he was now invincible in the world, and he longed for the coming battles. Once seated, he immediately began asking, “Brother, when will the Jurchens arrive?”
“The situation in Lizhou is complicated. Now that Luo Wen has surrendered, Zonghan’s army has already pressed up to the outer perimeter. It’s still uncertain.” Ning Xi spoke in a low voice, pointing at the menu. “This place is famous for its crystal cakes. Shall we get two bowls?”
“Whatever you say, Brother.” Ning Ji pulled his stool closer, hands folded on the table like an earnest student. “Brother, when are we going to Jiange?”
“We could get some roast meat slices too—I hear they cut it very thin, very flavorful. I’ve heard about it several times.” Ning Xi licked his lips.
“Brother, when are we going to Jiange?” Ning Ji repeated.
Ning Xi set down the menu. “You’re a doctor—stop always thinking about running to the front lines.”
“I can help. I’m already very good at treating wounds.”
“First of all, even if we take Jiange, Father has no intention of letting you go there.” Ning Xi frowned, then turned his gaze back to the menu. “Second, the matter of Jiange isn’t so simple.”
“Si Zhongxian won’t cooperate with us? Now that’s quite the tough character…” Ning Ji said, imitating an adult’s tone.
With the great war approaching, meetings and discussions were frequent within the Huaxia Army. Although Ning Ji was in the medical corps, as Ning Yi’s son he could still access various sources of information, even reliable internal analysis.
Jianmen Pass was a formidable stronghold of Sichuan, a place both sides would inevitably contest. Though it fell under Lizhou’s jurisdiction, the garrison at Jianmen Pass consisted of twenty thousand elite imperial guard troops, commanded by the shrewd and capable Si Zhongxian, who held extremely independent administrative authority at Jiange. It had originally been an important checkpoint to prevent the Huaxia Army from leaving Sichuan.
However, up to now, the Huaxia Army had shown no intention of forcing its way out of Sichuan, and there had never been any major conflict with Jiange. Earlier this year, Wanyan Xiyin and others in the capital had put out word suggesting they would only attack the southwest as a gesture toward surrender negotiations. The Huaxia Army, for its part, extended goodwill while sending representatives to negotiate with Si Zhongxian and the leaders of the Chen family gentry regarding a joint defense against the Jurchens.
In the Huaxia Army’s past intelligence, Si Zhongxian was rated quite highly—considered loyal to the Wu Dynasty, concerned for the nation’s hardships, and caring toward the common people. At critical moments, especially with the Jurchens running rampant, he was seen as someone worth winning over, someone capable of seeing reason clearly.
Such communications had reportedly gone rather smoothly in the first half of this year, and Ning Ji had even heard that there might be a direct confrontation with the Jurchens at Jiange. Jianmen Pass was a stronghold where one man could hold off ten thousand—if this could be arranged, it might be the greatest possible advantage for the manpower-strapped Huaxia Army. But judging by his elder brother’s attitude, something had changed.
Ning Ji’s first reaction was that Si Zhongxian was simply stubborn, preferring to face Wanyan Zonghan alone rather than join forces with the Huaxia Army. But before he had even finished speaking, his elder brother frowned, eyes still on the menu. “Let’s get you a small portion of pig’s trotters to build you up.”
“Is Si Zhongxian going to surrender?” Ning Ji’s brows shot up. “Didn’t you say he was a man who understood reason?”
“The situation is complicated, not so simple. Si Zhongxian’s attitude is a bit strange right now.” Ning Xi closed the menu. “I was going to tell you about this anyway—don’t be so impatient.”
Ning Ji nodded, his gaze darkening slightly, but he fell silent. He had never been particularly lively to begin with, and over the past year had grown increasingly quiet. He was clearly turning things over in his mind now. Ning Xi sighed. “Alright, alright, let me tell you about this first.”
Ning Ji nodded. Ning Xi poured tea and continued. “These past two months, the Wu Dynasty has been collapsing—you know this. The Jurchens’ arrogance knows no bounds, and more and more people have been turning to our side. Including Zizhou—we originally thought we’d have to fight one or two battles to take it, but in the end we walked in without shedding a drop of blood. Do you understand the reasoning behind that?”
Ning Ji lifted his chin. “In the whole world, only we can fight the Jurchens. Surrendering to us is better than surrendering to the Jurchens.”
“That’s part of it—many of us think that way too. But Second Brother, the most fundamental reason is that Zizhou is close to us. If they hadn’t surrendered, we would have crushed them before the Jurchens even arrived. If they were truly caught in the middle, whether they’d side with us or the Jurchens would genuinely be hard to say.”
“…So Si Zhongxian wants to side with the Jurchens? After they killed a useless dog of an emperor! They hate us that much!”
Ning Ji’s eyes went wide with fury. Ning Xi shook his head with a smile. “It’s not just that. The main reason is something Father mentioned in a letter half a month ago. Second Brother, when the Wu Dynasty still existed, people in its court talked about ‘driving the tiger to devour the wolf’—ceding a thousand miles of territory west of Xiangyang to the Jurchens so they’d come attack us instead. It sounded like an interesting idea, but no one actually dared to do it. Even when someone proposed it, the opposition from below was fierce, because it was an utterly shameful thing to do.”
“…But today, they’ve truly lost all face.” Ning Ji listened intently. Ning Xi paused for a moment before saying, “Today, the Wu Dynasty is truly finished. They have no face left. They’re about to lose their country. At a time like this, quite a few of them have started thinking that getting us and the Jurchens to fight each other to mutual ruin might actually be a rather good idea.”
Ning Ji stared, mouth opening slightly, but no words came out. He was still young after all, and his comprehension was somewhat slow. Ning Xi took a breath, flipped open the menu again, glanced around, and lowered his voice further.
“These past two months, assassination attempts targeting you, me, and our parents have started increasing. Some of this is organized by former Wu Dynasty noble families. They know the Wu Dynasty is doomed, and they know the great southwestern war is about to break out. They want there to be an irreconcilable feud between us and the Jurchens—for instance, kidnapping you and me, killing us, and dumping our bodies in the Jurchen camp. That way, Father would lose his composure when facing the Jurchens. When we entered Zizhou half a month ago, we caught a group of these people—they wanted to move against Aunt Jin, because she sometimes goes out to direct performances. They wanted to seize her and take her to the Jurchen camp…”
Ning Ji’s fingers gripped the edge of the table; there was a crack as the wood’s grain split slightly. The young man spoke in a suppressed voice: “Aunt Jin already lost a child!”
A hint of redness showed at the rims of Ning Xi’s eyes too, but his voice remained calm. “Those people are having a very unpleasant time now. But Second Brother, I’m telling you this not so you can take it out on the table. Anger is fine, but don’t forget the most important thing Father has warned us about since we were children.”
“I know.” Ning Ji took a breath and slowly released the table. “I’ve calmed down.”
“Anger is fuel, but the most important thing is to look at reality calmly, face it objectively, and systematically bring everyone’s strength to bear—only then can you achieve your maximum capability, do the most damage to the enemy, make them the most unhappy, the most miserable… These past few months, the danger to us out there has been great too. Zizhou has only just been brought under our control, and it’s more complicated than the south—keep your spirits up… As for Si Zhongxian’s wavering, it’s likely for similar reasons, but it’s not certain yet. I hear people up front are still working on it.”
“Mm.” Ning Ji nodded. Suppressing his rage was extremely difficult for a boy not yet fourteen, but the trials of the past year or more in the medical corps had given him the strength to face reality. He’d had no choice but to watch severely wounded comrades have their legs sawn off, to watch people bleed and die in agony. In this world there were many things beyond human power that took lives away, and even the greatest grief and indignation were powerless against them—and at times, such feelings could instead lead people to make the wrong choices.
“Twenty days ago, your Sister Chuyi was also injured—bled for half the night, only just recovered recently… So we should eat well. That’s how a family is, how comrades are too. If you’re stronger and calmer, the people around you will suffer less. Should we order everything we haven’t tried yet?”
“…Brother, stop joking. Just order what you like.” Ning Ji smiled perfunctorily, fists lightly clenched. After a moment, he finally said, “But why? They can’t beat the Jurchens, their lands are being taken by the Jurchens, everyone is suffering! Only we can defeat the Jurchens, and we’re good to the people around us too—the army goes out to help people reclaim wasteland, we go out to treat their illnesses, barely charging anything… Why do they still hate us! Are we more detestable than the Jurchens? Brother, how can the world let people like this go on living!”
He slapped his small hand down on the table. “I wish I could kill them all! They all deserve to die!”
Ning Xi was silent for a moment, then pushed the menu back toward his younger brother. “Forget it, let’s order first…”