The story now returns to several days earlier.

On the afternoon of the twenty-fourth of the fourth month, the Huaxia Seventh Army had cut down Wanyan Sheyema and formally crushed the main body of Wanyan Zonghan’s army — but due to the complexity of the battle formation, it was not until the morning of the twenty-fifth that Xiyin, having rallied his forces to hold the passage into Hanzhong city, formally declared the withdrawal.

News of the end of the Hanzhong battle then spread in every direction. Dai Mengwei and Liu Guangshi, in Xicheng County, received word on the afternoon of that same day, and immediately began taking action, reaching out in every direction to stabilize the situation. By this point, the various armies stationed near Xicheng County had also, sooner or later, learned how events had unfolded.

The news that the hundred-thousand-strong combined army of Zonghan and Xiyin had charged the Huaxia Seventh Army, only to be crushed by its mere twenty thousand men — and that Zonghan had even lost a second son in the process — struck everyone along the southern bank of the Han River with a tremendous and bizarre psychological shock. In some sense, it felt as if a fantastical, otherworldly reality had descended upon them.

Most power-holders, upon first receiving the news, reacted with outward calm, quickly ordering their subordinates to verify its accuracy.

For the forces loosely aligned under Dai Mengwei, which had never been properly integrated to begin with, the seeds of chaos were already brewing. But Dai Mengwei acted swiftly, and with the backing of the more prestigious Liu Guangshi, they quickly reached out to the leaders of most of the nearby factions, stabilizing the situation and reaching a preliminary consensus.

Though the Huaxia Seventh Army’s performance on the Hanzhong battlefield had been formidable, the future prospects for the army as a whole were, in truth, far from certain. Liu Guangshi and Dai Mengwei laid out the follow-up plans they had already discussed, naturally hoping that those they could bring under their sway would join their alliance and act in concert. Even for those harboring doubts, they hoped these men would, out of regard for past ties, refrain from openly breaking with them. After all, none of the armies currently in the area could claim overwhelming superiority over the others — even those harboring different intentions were wise to leave themselves some room, in case their paths crossed again in the future.

Such persuasion temporarily suppressed the chaos that might otherwise have erupted — but on two sharp, critical points, the situation had already slipped beyond their control:

The first was the siege of Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan at Chuanlinpu, which, starting on the twenty-sixth, could no longer be sustained. Most of the besieging forces had already begun going through the motions without real effort, and some had even secretly sent envoys inside to quietly discuss defecting back with Qi Xinhan and the others. Given how rapidly the situation had changed, Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan, trapped in the mountain fortress, were at first uncertain and wary, fearing they might be falling for rumors or walking into another of Wanyan Xiyin’s schemes.

The second critical point concerned the prisoners east of Xicheng County. These Han army troops had originally been moved to rally against the Jin by Dai Mengwei’s call to arms, but were then handed over and sold out to Wanyan Xiyin — about fifty thousand soldiers in total had been taken captive outside Xicheng County. Dai Mengwei had promised Xiyin that one in three of these men would be executed. But with events unfolding so rapidly, and with Dai Mengwei still in the process of consolidating the forces now under his nominal command, the promised massacre had been delayed. By the time news arrived from Hanzhong, even some faction leaders who agreed with Dai and Liu’s broader cause began actively opposing the continuation of this massacre — though, of course, given that Zonghan and Xiyin had already been defeated, Dai Mengwei’s side was more than happy to let the delay stand, quietly relieved at how things had turned out.

By the twenty-seventh, having confirmed the news, Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan, after a brief period of rest and reorganization, pushed their forces toward Xicheng County. Their army of over ten thousand arrived at the outskirts of the county town that same evening, only to find themselves blocked outside by the massive crowds gathered there.

On the night of the twenty-seventh and into the early morning of the twenty-eighth, large numbers of people moved in and out of the Huaxia Army camp, some openly, some in secret.

Those who came openly were elders and respected local figures from among the gathered crowds, come on Dai Mengwei’s behalf. Believing that, despite differing ideals, Dai Mengwei had saved millions of lives in this region, these elders used every means at their disposal — some threatening their own lives, others invoking great moral principles — to persuade Qi and Wang not to make war on Xicheng County.

As for those who came in secret, these were various nearby forces seeking either to defect, or to quietly test the waters before doing so. In these chaotic times, it was hard for anyone to simply survive; after the Jurchen had rampaged across the Han River, the number of “armies” in this region had actually grown enormously — partly because every faction had begun recklessly conscripting able-bodied men without restraint, and partly because, with families and states destroyed, it was better to be a soldier bullying others than to go unarmed and be bullied instead. The forces Xiyin had handed over to Dai Mengwei numbered in the hundreds of thousands; the soldiers were already exhausted, but their commanders, having grown accustomed to preying on the weak in this dog-eat-dog world, had developed something of a bandit’s or opportunist’s mentality. They had their own demands, hoping to be granted amnesty and “recruited” — a notion to which Qi Xinhan could naturally offer no response whatsoever.

On the twenty-eighth, Dai Mengwei went out of the town to meet Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan, with a sea of common people spread across the hills behind him. Standing between the two armies, he spoke with impassioned eloquence, laying out at length his argument that the Huaxia Army was bound to bring calamity upon the world. He acknowledged that Xicheng County could never hope to resist the Huaxia Army’s strength, but declared that, even so, he would never abandon his resistance — and issued a public declaration that righteous common people, too, would never give up resisting, daring the Huaxia Army to “come and slaughter them if it dared.”

Several commanders stood alongside Dai Mengwei, while the crowds spread across the hills outside Xicheng County, roused by the Dai clan, shouted together, daring the Huaxia Army to “come and kill them, then.”

At this point, several Han army units of varying size declared their unconditional defection and submission to the Huaxia Army, though most factions remained watchful and non-committal. Wang Zhainan, hot-tempered as ever, wanted to lead his troops straight into Xicheng County and wipe out Dai Mengwei’s entire family, but Qi Xinhan could not bring himself to make such a decision, and could only send word of the situation back to the front-line command post at Hanzhong.

That same evening of the twenty-eighth, the Jurchen Western Route Army’s fleet, retreating east along the Han River toward Xiangfan, passed by Xicheng County.

From a mighty invading force of over two hundred thousand men sweeping south, to a mere few tens of thousands fleeing east in panicked retreat — at this moment, the Jurchen retreat fleet and the three thousand Huaxia Army troops on this side of the river were almost close enough to see each other across the water, yet the Jurchen forces no longer had any will left to attack.

What few people knew was that, that same evening, having learned of the situation at Xicheng County, Wanyan Xiyin had brought a small fleet quietly close to the southern bank of the Han River, and secretly arranged to meet with Dai Mengwei outside Xicheng County.

Xiyin’s previous meeting with Dai Mengwei had taken place only some ten-odd days earlier, when Xiyin had been startled by the ruthlessness of Dai Mengwei’s methods — though he neither approved of nor fully understood what Dai had done. But now, with shared interests and a drastically changed situation, the two found themselves compelled to meet once more.

This meeting took place in a small grove by the riverbank, the pale light of the setting sun falling through the gaps in the trees. Xiyin disembarked and did not walk far. Dai Mengwei — who that very morning had stood before Qi Xinhan and the others with impassioned eloquence — clasped his hands together in greeting, his face still carrying its familiar sorrowful, aged expression. After exchanging bows, he candidly informed Xiyin that the earlier promise — to execute one in three of the prisoners — could no longer be carried out.

Xiyin waved a hand, seemingly unconcerned. He had asked Dai Mengwei to kill people only to confirm his allegiance, a pledge of loyalty of sorts — but now that Dai Mengwei’s opposition to the Huaxia Army was firmly established, such a pledge was no longer necessary. And viewed from a broader perspective, with the Jin Kingdom’s strongest military force having been crushed by the Huaxia Army, the Han armies south of the river were, in the face of the Huaxia Army, essentially meaningless. It was, ironically, a force like Dai Mengwei’s — outwardly weak, yet holding high the banner of righteousness, unafraid of death — that was most capable of causing the Huaxia Army real trouble.

“Since Lord Dai holds the banner of righteousness, indiscriminate killing should be avoided wherever possible — that is precisely what I have come to suggest to Lord Dai today. As for the fifty thousand at Xicheng County, even if Lord Dai eventually hands them over to the Huaxia Army, I can certainly understand — Lord Dai need only act as he sees fit.”

Dai Mengwei bowed. “My thanks to Gushen for your understanding.”

Xiyin walked on slowly. “Lord Dai is a wise man. The outcome of the Hanzhong battle is already settled — the Western Route Army must return north. Why I have risked coming here today, Lord Dai surely already understands in his heart. The confrontation before the armies today showed me Lord Dai’s resolve to oppose the Black Banner army — I only wonder, should the Black Banner disregard all consequences and insist on razing Xicheng County to the ground, how much of a response could Lord Dai truly muster?”

Dai Mengwei tucked his hands into his sleeves. “The Black Banner’s power is immense — from the Central Plains to Jiangnan, there is no one left who can stand against it. Today, this old man had people stir up the crowd, shouting before the two armies — but if Ning Liheng truly resolves to come and kill, they will not truly stand in his way. In that case, this old man will be but meat upon the chopping block, with no outcome left but death.”

“Then Lord Dai’s only hope lies in Ning Yi’s mercy.”

“With the enemy strong and us weak, neighbors bound together as we are, with the realm’s affairs having come to this — how much choice does this old man really have? But whether this old man lives or dies, the problem posed by the Black Banner cannot be resolved either way. If he spares me today, this old man will naturally continue to oppose him. If he kills me today, though those who shouted just now would not truly stand in my way, once the slaughter is done, they will certainly spread word of the Black Banner’s cruelty far and wide. And the great clans of Jiangnan will certainly not pass up the chance to publicize such a deed either — from Liu Guangshi to Wu Qimei, from Xiao Zheng to Qiu Wenlu, none of them are men to let such an opportunity slip by.”

Xiyin turned his head to look at him. “But before the Black Banner’s fighting strength, what use would such shouting be?”

Dai Mengwei answered without hesitation. “The war between the Wu Dynasty and the Jurchen was a war between nations — often, it was simply a matter of kill or be killed. But the conflict between the Black Banner and the Wu Dynasty is a conflict of ideals. If Ning Yi today, disregarding all consequences, wished to sweep clean the Central Plains and Jiangnan, it is entirely possible he could do so. But once swept clean, those needed to govern it would still, in the end, have to be Han people — and educated Han people at that. These empty positions cannot go unfilled for even a single day, and whoever fills them first will determine what those who come after will be like. If Ning Yi, today, does not seek to win the hearts of the people, then although no one from outside could ever overthrow him by force, his own realm would inevitably collapse and disintegrate from within, and swiftly at that. If he chooses today to conquer the Wu Dynasty by killing, then tomorrow what falls into his hands will be nothing but an empty shell of a court, unable to issue a single command beyond the capital’s walls — and within a few years, our Wu Dynasty would surely be able to return.”

There was always something faintly ominous lurking beneath the calm surface of Dai Mengwei’s words — yet the logic within them was often difficult to refute. Xiyin frowned and murmured, “Borrowing a corpse to restore the soul…”

“Gushen’s choice of words is, in truth, not wrong at all,” Dai Mengwei said, bowing and calmly accepting the four-character description. “And it is precisely for this reason that this old man’s chances of surviving this time are perhaps not small. So long as the Black Banner does not kill this old man on this occasion, this old man and the rest of the Wu Dynasty’s people will hold in our hands a weapon fully capable of standing against the Black Banner — the mantle of righteous cause. In all the debates and disputes to come, this old man need not necessarily be the loser.”

Dai Mengwei paused. “Since Gushen has come here today, you must surely already understand all of this — this old man need not go on chattering.”

Xiyin turned his gaze toward the river flowing north. “When my lord commander and I return north this time, the Jin Kingdom will face a great upheaval. Within ten years, our great Jin will have no strength left to spare for matters here — whether this counts as good news or bad news for your side, I cannot say… As for the affairs of the Wu Dynasty, the two of you will have to fight it out between yourselves to determine who prevails.”

Dai Mengwei nodded. “In terms of raw military might, no one in the realm can any longer see even a glimmer of hope against the Black Banner. But in terms of underlying foundations, the chaos yet to come in this realm remains difficult to foresee.”

“Before a wise man like Lord Dai, there is no need to hide anything. Given the current state of affairs, whoever can become a thorn in the Black Banner’s side is something our great Jin would gladly welcome. When we withdrew north earlier, I said that everything south of the Yangtze could be left to Lord Dai’s disposal — but as it now appears, these things offer only limited help to Lord Dai. The Black Banner is now strong in arms and its scientific ideals lead the realm, but in terms of material resources, our great Jin remains far the wealthier, and in the study of natural science, the only power in this realm with any chance of keeping pace with the Black Banner is none other than our Jin Kingdom’s Great Works Academy… If Lord Dai comes through this unscathed, and wishes to stand against the Black Banner, our side has a great deal that could prove useful.”

“Gushen calculates well indeed…” As the two walked on slowly, Dai Mengwei fell silent for a long moment. “It is only that my side, fighting against the Black Banner in the name of righteousness, would in private be striking deals with the great Jin, taking support from Gushen himself. Even if my side were, one day, truly able to overthrow the Black Banner, in the end our very lifeline would hang on nothing more than a single thought in the minds of Gushen and the Jin Kingdom’s leaders. Striking such a bargain would cost my side far too much.”

Xiyin smiled. “Lord Dai truly misses nothing… But no matter — some deals leave traces behind, others can be arranged to leave none. Since I have come today, whatever Lord Dai wants, and however you wish to ask for it, we can discuss it all in careful detail, and see what can be done…”

Dai Mengwei nodded in turn. “Since Gushen is so generous, then… allow this old man to first discuss with Gushen the matter of Bianliang…”

A moment later, from the riverbank beneath the setting sun came the sound of Xiyin’s laughter — bold, approving, mocking, and complicated all at once. The two men went on to discuss a great many more matters by the riverside.

What passed between Dai Mengwei and Wanyan Xiyin in this negotiation and exchange, no one else would ever know — only that, some days later, Liu Guangshi, one of their allies, would remark with a sigh, “That old bastard really does have some tricks up his sleeve.”

Dai Mengwei completed his negotiation with Xiyin on the night of the twenty-eighth. On the twenty-ninth, Ning Yi arrived at Hanzhong; late into the night of the twenty-ninth, after Ning Yi and Qin Shaoqian had discussed a great many matters, Qin Shaoqian finally brought up the situation at Xicheng County and the request awaiting a decision — a matter that, by rights, should have been dealt with first, but had been pushed back somewhat given how much else needed attention.

“…Speaking of conjuring something from nothing, I really do admire this fellow Dai. And he did it with such impassioned bravado, at least putting on a good show of not fearing death… I’m honestly curious what expression the old bastard would make with a blade at his throat.”

The two had talked all evening in the mess hall, and now, having stepped outside, walked through the camp beneath the starlight. Speaking of Dai Mengwei, Qin Shaoqian could not help but sigh in a mixture of admiration and exasperation.

Ning Yi had already reviewed the matter Qi Xinhan had raised for approval.

“For armies wishing to surrender, committing crimes and then seeking amnesty won’t do. We can accept the unconditional defection of those who surrender — once they do, whether they’re reorganized, restructured, or disbanded is entirely our call. But considering that most of these soldiers were likely conscripted against their will, and are already thoroughly sick of war, we can guarantee that those without serious crimes or blood debts on their hands will not be held accountable for the past — they may go home and farm. We can use this same policy to persuade and win over the various other factions as well… Of course, those with genuine ability who are willing to undergo reeducation may stay on — but they must accept the reeducation. There’s no need to spell out exactly what that entails; anyone looking to negotiate terms need not bother.”

Qin Shaoqian nodded. “That works. When you really add it up, these hundreds of thousands, even over a million troops, are — to put it plainly — just conscripted farmhands, a problem stirred up by the Jurchen’s rampage in the first place. Once word of the Hanzhong battle spreads, I’d wager that within a month, most of these so-called ‘armies’ will simply fall apart on their own. It’s important that we put out some kind of statement on this… But what about old Dai? Letting him get away with this feels like a bit of a loss of face.”

“Sometimes, I think, we still have to acknowledge that idealists exist.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s just say old Dai really is driven by a sense of mission — a fearless Confucian paragon, unafraid of death. I don’t think that’s a problem,” Ning Yi said with a smile. “In the past, we were either in the northwest or the southwest, and most people in the Wu Dynasty hadn’t really taken us seriously — plenty of people never really woke up to what we represent. After this incident, though, those who were going to wake up to it will have done so. We’re going to face plenty more enemies like this going forward — the experience needs to accumulate gradually. And besides, old Dai today claims to be a living Buddha to ten thousand households, saving millions of lives — and those millions are more than willing to let him save them. That’s a good thing. I think it’s worth supporting.”

Qin Shaoqian glanced at Ning Yi and laughed. “Back to what you said before — not enough manpower, and you don’t actually want this territory…”

“That’s one reason,” Ning Yi said, smiling. “The other reason is this: when someone belongs to the other side — whether because they weren’t properly educated, or were deceived, or for any other reason — and they don’t agree with you, forcibly holding onto them does you no good; you’ll never manage them well. If we say today that we want everyone in the realm to live a good life, and then we simply kill Dai Mengwei and seize his territory, even if people genuinely end up living somewhat better afterward, they won’t thank you for it.”

Qin Shaoqian nodded. “So we wait until old Dai messes things up on his own, and only then do we act. Timing-wise, and in terms of the talent reserves you mentioned, that should give us enough time.”

“But it’s not enough for him to simply mess up,” Ning Yi said, smiling as he patted Qin Shaoqian’s shoulder. “I think this is actually a great educational opportunity. Today, it was they who were stirred up by Dai Mengwei to stand against us — everyone else is just watching from the sidelines, indifferent to who solves the problem, so long as someone does. Well then, let old Dai try to solve the problem of these hundreds of thousands of people. But in the future, if he fails to solve it properly, we shouldn’t be the ones to say ‘we’ll handle it instead’ — we need to guide his own people to take to the streets themselves, to voice their own desires. Only once enough people are speaking out against him should we step in and solve the problem — that’s the only way the act of solving it has real value.”

“…So, the plan is: put out a proclamation next, refuting old Dai’s arguments, making our position clear — we accept everyone’s choice today, but if, one day, a warlord and privileged class like Dai Mengwei ruins the livelihoods of the people in this region, that will be none of our doing — we can plant that hook right now,” Ning Yi said.

“As for the practical approach, Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan can divide the work — one playing the villain, the other the good guy. Those Dai has captured need to be released; some of the chief culprits need to be handed over. Also, since you’ve now taken such a large territory, in the future it mustn’t obstruct our trade routes — we need to negotiate a trade agreement. Old Dai and the senior officials of the Wu Dynasty are used to taking things slowly and steadily; I imagine they’ll want a few years of peace, and on the details of trade regulations and protection for merchant caravans, they’ll agree, and make concessions.”

Qin Shaoqian nodded. “Once business gets started, it’s hard not to get skinned by you…”

“That’s not fair to say — the Huaxia Army has always done business fairly. Everyone gets to profit together, after all…”

Under the star-filled sky of late fourth month, the two men strolled along, chatting and laughing. After a while, Ning Yi’s expression turned serious. “In truth, both internal and external pressures and changes have already arrived — the future is going to grow far more complicated. We’ve only just won our first battle; what happens from here is genuinely hard to say…”

“Looking north today, the Jin Kingdom has split into an eastern and a western court, and they’re very likely to end up fighting each other soon — that’s two forces right there. A few days ago, Zhu Ji sent word that the Mongols, who had been in the Western Xia region, have moved north through Jin territory, passed through Yanmen Pass, and are heading straight for Yunzhong — that’s a third force…”

Qin Shaoqian frowned. “The group you had investigated in Western Xia…”

Ning Yi nodded. “They’re warlike, and from what we can tell so far, quite organized — their potential shouldn’t be underestimated. But that’s fine, there’s more than enough room on this stage already; one more won’t matter… Prince Jin and Miss Lou’s people can be a fourth force. Then there’s old Dai, Liu Guangshi, and Wu Qimei — they’ve profited from the Wu Dynasty’s collapse, oddly enough, but that makes… five, six, seven…”

“Add ourselves and Junwu in, and that’s nine forces. On top of that, there are all the scattered righteous armies here and there — down in Jiangnan, He Wen is flying our banner and has already built up some influence. From the report that came in at the end of the third month, he’s planning to form a ‘Fairness Party’ — the basic idea being to strike down the landlords and redistribute the land… He heard all this from me back when he was in the southwest. Once he works out the details, it could grow into a major movement.”

Qin Shaoqian said, “Somewhat similar to old Niu Tou?”

“Old Niu Tou holds similar ideas, but I’ve kept him confined to the northwestern plains, where there isn’t much room to expand. Once the local landlords are dealt with and the land redistributed, there’s not much further to expand outward. I want to use this to force them to think about internal balance and circulation. But He Wen is operating in Jiangnan — striking down landlords and redistributing land there could rally a mass of people to sweep across the realm, and they’ll likely keep repeating the process. If they don’t know when to stop, it could become a real problem down the line.”

“With old Niu Tou added in, that makes eleven forces already…” Qin Shaoqian laughed. “This is turning into quite the mess — like the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms all over again.”

“And that’s not even all of it.” Ning Yi pulled out a report from his sleeve. “Take a look.”

“What’s this about…” Qin Shaoqian glanced at it. “The group that was granted amnesty at Xuzhou…”

“As I mentioned before, our own internal structure is still quite fragile. The moment ideological discipline slackens even a little, big problems follow. Back when Liu Chengzong and the others marched north, these few tens of thousands of troops couldn’t be brought along, so they were left north of the Yangtze to rest and retrain. A working group was left behind to lead them. Over the past year and more, fighting has been fierce on every front, and no one could be spared to be sent there — they’d even managed to make some real progress on their own. And yet, who would have thought…”

…

There was no moon in the sky; the vast expanse of stars stretched out like an ocean. The two men walked on slowly, and Ning Yi let out a low sigh.

“…That something like this could happen…”

[PS: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, everyone!]