The sixth day of the fifth month, Lin’an, thunderstorm.

The Dragon Boat Festival had just passed, and a sudden downpour had washed away the festive atmosphere from the previous day in the southern part of Lin’an city. As the new day began, officials from every ministry hurried once more to court. The city’s scenery appeared dim and gloomy, much like the mood of the small court these past days.

In the early hours, Li Shan left his home and took his carriage toward the palace city, holding in his hand the memorial he was to submit today, his heart still carrying the worry he had felt over the situation these past several days.

Ever since news of the decisive battle at Hanzhong had reached Lin’an, the atmosphere at the small court had remained silent, tense, and oppressive. Officials attended court each day, waiting for new intelligence and developments, while beneath the surface, undercurrents stirred — various factions secretly forming alliances, beginning to calculate their own interests. Even those quietly seeking to make contact with the south and the west had grown more numerous.

To deal with this situation, the two factions headed by Left Chancellor Tie Yan and Right Chancellor Wu Qimei had set aside their differences on the surface, and yesterday, for the Dragon Boat Festival, had even staged a grand celebration to calm the hearts of the army and the people. Unfortunately, rain had begun falling in the afternoon, and this “shared joy” celebration of Lin’an had failed to last the entire day.

These surface matters were not what truly mattered. What would actually decide the future of the realm was the information from every direction that, for the moment, remained unclear in its direction and implications. The Huaxia Army had already achieved such a great victory — if it truly intended to sweep across the realm in one continuous push, then even though Lin’an was thousands of li away, everyone here would have no choice but to plan ahead for themselves.

And in encountering such a chaotic age, countless individuals’ wills would need to make themselves known here — how would Dai Mengwei choose, what calculations were Liu Guangshi and others making, how would the still-powerful great clans of the Martial Dynasty weigh their options, what strategy would the northeastern “Fairness Party” and the southern small court adopt — only once all this information became clear would Lin’an be able to formulate the best response.

He lifted the curtain and looked out at the pitch-black, rain-soaked streets, sighing faintly to himself. In all honesty, Li Shan, now Vice Minister of Personnel, had also felt somewhat anxious these past few days.

But as a disciple of Wu Qimei, such feelings would naturally not show on the surface.

The dim yellow light of the oil-paper lantern at the front of the carriage illuminated only a stretch of continuous rain and darkness; the road seemed endless, and the vast, seemingly gravely wounded city still slumbered, few people aware of what had happened in the southwest over ten days ago — an event significant enough to reverse the fortunes of the entire realm. As the cold rain struck his hand, Li Shan could not help but wonder again: was what we’ve done, in this period, right or wrong?

This was not the first time this question had surfaced in his mind these past few days, yet each time, it had been suppressed by an obvious answer.

When the Huaxia Army had killed their emperor and rebelled, had they ever truly considered the safety of the people of this realm? They had grown astonishingly powerful, to be sure, but sooner or later they would bring even greater calamity upon this world.

Ever since Ning Yi killed the emperor, countless disasters had followed one after another. The Jurchens breached Bianliang, thus came the Humiliation of Jingping; afterward, with the capable emperor gone, everyone had hastily enthroned Zhou Yong — who could have known that Zhou Yong would prove such an incompetent emperor, that when the Jurchens came bearing down on him with overwhelming force, he simply boarded the dragon boat and fled.

After Zhou Yong left, the entire realm, the whole of Lin’an, fell into Jurchen hands, and massacre after massacre followed — who could have saved the people in the city? Dying heroically for a cause looks noble, but someone had to step forward, bear humiliation, and endure the heavy burden, in order for fewer people in the city to die.

If the Huaxia Army could have been here then…

But it was useless to hope for the Huaxia Army.

It was equally useless to hope for that reckless, stubborn young emperor who disregarded the greater good.

Li Shan clenched his teeth and reaffirmed this chain of reasoning once again.

Thinking of it now, over a decade ago at the time of the Humiliation of Jingping, there had also been another chancellor, much like his current teacher. That was Tang Ke, courtesy name Qinsou. The Jurchens had come, threatening to massacre the city; the army could not resist, the emperor could not take charge, and so it fell to Tang Ke, then head of the peace faction, to gather up the gold, silver, craftsmen, and women of the city to satisfy the Jin invaders.

Such an experience was one of the utmost humiliation, one that might well be carved onto the pillar of shame a hundred or even a thousand years hence. Tang Ke had even handed over his own beloved granddaughter to the Jin, bearing the condemnation of all, and later took his own life. But had it not been for him, how many people in Bianliang would have survived after the Humiliation of Jingping?

The carriage advanced through the rain, and after a while, a great black silhouette finally rose ahead — the palace city had been reached. He took up his umbrella and stepped down from the carriage; the wind in the early-morning downpour made him shiver. He pulled his robe tight and murmured under his breath: may I be worthy of Tang Qinsou’s resolve.

He then entered through the half-open side gate of the palace city.

By this time, officials had already begun arriving one after another, some exchanging quiet greetings, others conversing in low voices as they walked. Li Shan chatted briefly with a few officials aligned with the Right Chancellor’s faction. Upon reaching the side hall before the morning court and completing the inspection, he saw that his teacher Wu Qimei and senior fellow disciple Gan Fenglin had already arrived, and went over to pay his respects. Only then did he notice that his teacher’s expression and mood seemed somewhat different from the past few days, and he sensed that something good might have happened.

Itching with curiosity, he stepped aside and asked Gan Fenglin about it. Gan Fenglin smiled: “Come to the teacher’s residence after court, and I’ll tell you in detail.” This confirmed that something good had indeed happened.

Before long, the morning court session began.

The emperor currently enthroned by the Lin’an small court was a young collateral member of the Zhou clan, named Zhou Huan — a boy not yet thirteen, whose parents had died early. His advantage was having known hunger and being obedient; each morning court he merely sat above while Tie Yan and Wu Qimei presided over affairs below.

These past days, the small court had held morning sessions daily, with the officials arriving each day also waiting for news. So, after paying respects to His Majesty, Left Chancellor Tie Yan first relayed to the assembly a piece of news from the west.

This news concerned the great Confucian scholar Dai Mengwei. It was said that in the later stages of the southwestern campaign, this old man had played both saint and specter, using astonishing tricks of conjuring something from nothing to extract vast supplies, manpower, troops, and political influence from Xiyin — but he had not anticipated that Zonghan and Xiyin would be defeated so swiftly and thoroughly at the Battle of Hanzhong; before he could secure a firm grip on these resources, the Huaxia Army had already achieved victory. Qi Xinhan and Wang Zhainan had brought their troops right up to Xicheng County, and this great scholar had rallied the people of Xicheng County to make a desperate last stand. Once the news spread, everyone said that Dai Mengwei, having calculated too cleverly for his own good, was probably not long for this world.

For everyone in Lin’an, the direction of events here was extremely easy to judge. Though he had used the common people as a shield to bolster his own position, first, he had wronged members of the Huaxia Army; second, the disparity in strength was far too great; and third, his location was too close to the territory controlled by the Huaxia Army — how could anyone tolerate someone else snoring right beside their own bed? The Huaxia Army probably wouldn’t even need to commit its main force — the mere defecting troops under Wang Zhainan, given one rallying cry, would likely be more than enough, since under the present circumstances, hardly any army would dare truly stand against a Huaxia Army assault on Xicheng County.

In discussing this matter, the people of Lin’an actually harbored, to some degree, a certain sense of schadenfreude. They themselves had endured humiliation and borne so much condemnation just to secure a foothold in this realm, while Dai Mengwei, whose reputation and strength had never amounted to much before, had in one stroke of scheming seized control of a million people and vast supplies, and had even earned himself a reputation as a champion of the common people — this understandably left the people of Lin’an somewhat resentful.

Upon learning that the decisive battle at Hanzhong had ended, people’s faces turned pale, yet they could not help but chuckle: you, Dai Mengwei, fancy yourself clever, but just watch — schemes cannot be pushed this far; it offends the harmony of heaven, and heaven will punish you for it.

Since Lin’an was, after all, so far removed from the southwest, this matter had become the one piece of gossip everyone could enjoy discussing. However, in Tie Yan’s report at this morning’s court session, the situation in Xicheng County had taken an unexpected turn.

On the afternoon of the thirtieth of the fourth month, apparently after Qi Xinhan had sought instructions from the Huaxia Army’s senior leadership, a new order had come from Ning Yi’s side. On the first day of the fifth month, Qi Xinhan had agreed to negotiate with Dai Mengwei; it seemed that, taking into account the wishes of the people near Xicheng County, the Huaxia Army was willing to grant Dai Mengwei a way to survive, and a series of negotiation proceedings had subsequently begun.

At this point the sky had only just begun to lighten, and outside lay a gloomy downpour; within the great hall, the lamps flickered. As soon as Tie Yan finished relaying this astonishing news, some gasped in shock, others sat dumbfounded — the Huaxia Army, ruthless enough to dare kill an emperor, was now, of all things, this concerned with the will of the people, this gentle?

“Could the Huaxia Army be feigning retreat to advance? Is there some trick to this?”

“Dai Mengwei has only just taken over Xiyin’s supplies and people — even if he stirs up popular sentiment, how many could he possibly rally?”

“Who would have imagined Ning Liheng could stoop to buying such a reputation!”

“Could it be they want to lull Dai Mengwei into complacency, then attack again?”

“If the Huaxia Army wanted to attack, why would they need him to be complacent…”

Everyone chimed in with their own opinions, though when one official began speaking of the Huaxia Army’s combat strength, he swallowed his words, feeling it would only boost the enemy’s morale while dampening his own side’s.

Tie Yan said, “This news was confirmed in the early hours of the second, and was then relayed here at full speed via the eight-hundred-li urgent post. The negotiations at Xicheng County have already begun — this does not appear to be a fabrication by the Huaxia Army.”

Lin’an’s contacts near Xicheng County were not mere ordinary scouts; many of the surrendered factions there had countless entangled ties with the people currently in Lin’an, which lent the intelligence a fair degree of credibility. As Tie Yan finished speaking, some officials at court were already stroking their beards, their eyes lighting up. Wu Qimei chuckled at the front, his gaze sweeping over the assembly.

“The Black Banner has crushed Zonghan and now holds an absolute advantage in the west. He is the blade, Dai Mengwei the meat upon it — whether that blade falls or not depends entirely on the mood of that Mr. Ning. Whether there will be complications in the Xicheng County negotiations is hard to say for now, but as this old man sees it, the possibility that the Black Banner would be willing to spare Dai Mengwei is not without merit. I see that several of you gentlemen have already grasped the implications of this.”

Those who stood in this court were all quick-minded individuals, and once Wu Qimei had pointed this out, most had already begun to vaguely grasp certain things. Wu Qimei paused for a moment, then continued:

“The Black Banner certainly has many reasons to attack Xicheng County directly. But if they truly intend to forgo the attack, then at least a few things can now be considered certain. First, if the Black Banner does not wish to take the territory in Elder Dai’s hands at Xicheng County, this indicates that, for at least the next few years, they have no intention of expanding eastward.”

This statement made the eyes of everyone in the hall light up. Wu Qimei continued: “Second, the Black Banner is not merely obsessed with military conquest — by now, it seems he even wishes to join us in vying for the hearts and minds of the realm’s people. This is rather interesting…”

“Third, it is also possible that this Mr. Ning has noticed that he has conquered too much territory, yet has too few who are truly of one mind with him. His seemingly gracious act of sparing Dai Mengwei in deference to popular will may, in fact, reflect that the Black Banner’s momentum is already spent, and it lacks the strength to expand further east… Indeed, in the south, seven thousand men defeated thirty thousand at Wangyuan Bridge, and twenty thousand crushed a hundred thousand at Hanzhong — the Black Banner rises like the blazing morning sun. But in this world, is there ever such a thing as harming the enemy without harming oneself? If the Black Banner has inflicted ten thousand losses on the enemy while suffering eight thousand of its own, then this state of affairs would align even better with what we had surmised earlier…”

He looked around at everyone, speaking with eloquent ease, while outside the hall, lightning flashed across the curtain of rain and thunder rumbled in the sky. Before the assembled officials, matters seemed to open up considerably wider because of this analysis. By the time Wu Qimei finished speaking, many in the hall had already formed further thoughts of their own, and a lively discussion broke out.

“If this is truly the case, there is much we could work with on our end…”

“The Black Banner has just won its first victory and vastly expanded its territory — it will urgently need capable men, and those it can use must surely be literate and numerate. Given this, I have an idea…”

“If this is so, it truly is a stroke of luck for Dai Mengwei — a man who plays both sides with such ease. Truly… he has extraordinary fortune.”

“One shouldn’t judge him quite that way. Elder Dai did save several million Han civilians from Xiyin’s hands — that alone counts as saving countless lives. As his enemy is the Black Banner, and he carries a righteous cause, and given that when the Black Banner eventually pushes east he will be the first to bear the brunt, he might well prove to be someone worth befriending going forward…”

Discussion in the hall grew lively and animated. Though the realm at present was one of contending warlords and scattered factions, the two forces that truly mattered were none other than the Jin state and the Black Banner. Now that the Jurchens had withdrawn north and would not return to the Central Plains or Jiangnan for some time, once the situation with the Black Banner became clearer, the people of Lin’an would be better able to judge the future direction of events and decide on their own strategy. Everyone spoke up in turn, partly because they had finally glimpsed a way out of the impasse, and partly to vent the anxiety and unease that had been building in their hearts these past days.

Whether this situation would change in the coming days remained to be seen, but for now, this news truly counted as tremendously good news. As Li Shan thought this over, he glanced at Gan Fenglin and found himself puzzled again — his senior fellow disciple had said there was good news to share after court, so could there be yet another piece of good news beyond this one?

Carrying this question, he continued listening, and after a while, another major piece of news arrived — Yue Fei’s Beiwei Army had, since the previous day, launched an assault on Quanzhou. Aside from this, the rest of the morning court session consisted only of minor routine matters.

The young emperor rose and left after a while. Outside, the sky was gradually brightening amid the curtain of rain. Under the direction of Tie and Wu, the assembled officials worked through numerous matters in orderly fashion before finally being dismissed. Li Shan followed Gan Fenglin and a group of colleagues to the Wu residence, where, upon arrival, they were treated to a somewhat late breakfast. Wu Qimei joined them as well, and after everyone finished eating and the servants had cleared away the dishes, a new round of discussion began.

“The news from the west has already been discussed at this morning’s court, and the reason I’ve gathered everyone here now is to talk about matters in the south. The former Crown Prince has been up to certain things in Fuzhou, and it now appears there may be unusual developments. Fenglin, bring out the materials and pass them around for everyone to see.”

Wu Qimei spoke of this matter with a smile, so it was clearly something good. As he spoke, Gan Fenglin brought out a stack of papers. Everyone recognized them at a glance as newspapers published in Fuzhou — the very kind of thing Li Pin had once published in Lin’an, which had earned him considerable standing among literary circles.

After the Jurchens had left, Tie Yan and Wu Qimei had also published their own newspapers within their respective domains, mostly carrying articles by themselves and their circles of disciples and associates, using this medium to vindicate themselves and establish their positions. However, since they had relatively few specialists in this area, the effectiveness of these efforts was somewhat unclear, and it was difficult to say how much impact they truly had.

The assembled officials now took up the newspapers and passed them around one by one. The first person to receive one changed expression the moment he saw it, and others gathered around. What was written at the top was titled “A Detailed Account of the Southwestern Campaign (Part One),” beginning with the news of Zonghan’s crushing defeat and desperate flight from Hanzhong, followed by “An Introduction to the Principles of Natural Science (Preface),” which began by discussing Lu Ban, then moved on to the various siege-craft techniques of the Mohists, before finally leading into the Battle of Wangyuan Bridge in the southwest in late February…

Everyone was equally dumbfounded, unable to help but scan the opening of the newspaper. Once they confirmed this was indeed a Fuzhou publication, their confusion only deepened further. The Lin’an court and the Fuzhou court were, at present, certainly in an adversarial posture toward one another, but both claimed to be the legitimate heirs of the Martial Dynasty’s mantle, and both held an irreconcilable enmity toward the Black Banner in the southwest — though, of course, the main reason for Lin’an’s stance was that its people knew full well they had thrown in their lot with the Jin state, and there was simply no way they could ever align themselves with the Black Banner.

But if they themselves could not align with the Black Banner, then Fuzhou, which flew the banner of legitimate orthodoxy, would find it even more impossible to do so. For this reason, news of the great battle in the southwest and the decisive battle at Hanzhong had, until now, remained suppressed in Lin’an. Who would have thought that Fuzhou — whose court was even less likely than Lin’an to ever make peace with the Black Banner — was now, of all things, drumming up support for it?

— Did they intend to defect to the Huaxia Army?

The former Crown Prince, Jun Wu, had always been radical — was he actually daring to defy the disapproval of the entire realm and throw in his lot with the Black Banner!?

Some, upon realizing this, felt a chill run down their spines. If they truly did such a shameless thing, then although the Martial Dynasty’s realm had already been lost through Zhou Junwu’s own hands, the situation in Jiangnan would become critical and imminent.

As everyone speculated in this manner, they glanced again toward Wu Qimei and saw the Right Chancellor’s expression remain composed, which calmed their hearts somewhat. When the papers reached Li Shan, he counted them — four in total, being two different issues of Li Pin’s paper, published on the second and third of the fifth month. He looked over the contents, thought for a moment, then clasped his hands and asked, “Teacher, was there anything else that came along with this?”

“Sijing has already grasped it,” Wu Qimei said with a laugh, sitting up straight at the front. “Once I explain, all of you will understand clearly why the Fuzhou court is drumming up support for the Black Banner — and this teacher still says it is good news. It is, of course, good news!”

The old man laughed heartily and waved his hand. “The former Crown Prince, Jun Wu, has always had a radical temperament. Back when the Jianshuo court still stood, he frequently clashed with ministers at court. This was because the Jianshuo Emperor had come to the throne somewhat by accident, and the former Crown Prince had, from a young age, not properly studied the arts of true imperial rule. Being young, with the situation already dire, he simply believed that civil officials had ruined the state, and so devoted himself instead to military affairs. When the Jurchens invaded the south, he was active at the front lines, appearing all the more ruthless and battle-hardened. After the Jianshuo Emperor fled aboard the dragon boat, he made a desperate last stand at Jiangning and once defeated Zongfu’s forces. Later, upon ascending the throne at Jiangning, he reorganized the military and consolidated power, killing no small number of people. With Generals Han and Yue fighting their way out alongside him, he finally reached Fuzhou, having already tasted the sweetness of ruling with a single, unchallenged voice!”

Wu Qimei waved his hand, his tone growing ever more heated: “But how can the way of a sovereign be conducted like this! He flies the banner of the Jianshuo court, having ascended the throne at Jiangning — from last year to now, some regard him as the legitimate heir, and there in Fuzhou, quite a few have gone of their own accord to pledge themselves to this iron-willed new sovereign. But ever since arriving in Fuzhou, his consolidation of power has grown ever more intense; toward the great clans who came to pledge their allegiance, he grants them honors but is stingy with real power!”

“In Fuzhou, military authority rests with Han and Yue! For internal affairs, he prefers to use clerks rather than civil officials! For matters of great importance around him, he trusts the Grand Princess’s residence far more than he trusts the senior officials at court! As a result, the Ministry of War answers directly to those two generals, with civil officials having no say whatsoever; the powers of the Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Revenue he holds entirely in his own hands; the Ministry of Rites exists in name only; the Ministry of Justice, I hear, has been packed with all manner of underworld figures, a thoroughly disreputable mess; and the Ministry of Works has changed the most of all — not only does he wish to grant noble titles to the craftsmen under him, he even intends to promote a few craftsmen to head positions above… Craftsmen may be good at their craft, but can they manage men? Nonsense!”

Wu Qimei tapped his fingers on the table, his gaze stern and solemn: “The signs of all this were already there months ago! Some of the officials at the Fuzhou court, my friends, cannot see what lies ahead. Why does one take office a thousand li from home? Even if one serves for country and people, one must still secure one’s own family, must one not? Many of the great and established families who went to Fuzhou were seeking one thing — a promise. And where does such a promise come from? It comes from the power to keep one’s word. But this former Crown Prince — on the surface, he is naturally grateful, but in practice? He gives you a position, but not power. He wants you to help him conquer the realm, yet is unwilling to share the conquest with you. Well then… I would repay you as a statesman of the realm deserves — but you do not treat me as such.”

He picked up his teacup, took a sip, then set it down, speaking slowly and deliberately, word by word: “Zhou Junwu, indeed, has chilled the hearts of many.”

…

Outside, the rain had gradually lessened, and the courtyard scenery had grown clear. Within the room, the old man’s voice continued to sound.

“…These things showed signs long ago, and many people had already prepared themselves in their hearts. In late fourth month, when news of the Battle of Hanzhong reached Fuzhou, this boy’s mind worked differently from others’. While others thought to suppress the news, he insisted on doing the opposite, taking an unconventional path — using the momentum of this event as an opportunity to once again push reform and consolidate power… Look at this newspaper — on the surface, it informs the world of news from the southwestern campaign, but in truth, the two characters for ‘natural science’ are hidden within it, and the two characters for ‘reform’ are hidden within it as well. The latter half begins discussing Confucianism, paving the way for Li Pin’s New Confucianism. Zhou Junwu wants to use the Black Banner as an annotation for his natural science, and Li Dexin wants to use reform as an annotation for his New Confucianism — heh, truly, rather than the classics annotating me, I shall annotate the classics!”

“…On the second of the fifth month, the results of the Battle of Hanzhong were made public, causing an uproar in Fuzhou; on the third, all manner of information poured out one after another. They have guided this rather skillfully — I hear that privately, someone has even been spreading word that Zhou Junwu and Zhou Pei once studied under that Mr. Ning. This way, no matter which direction public opinion takes, Zhou Junwu remains in an unassailable position. Unfortunately, this world has no shortage of clever people beyond Zhou Junwu and Li Dexin — those who see the situation clearly know there is no point trying to advise against it any longer…”

Wu Qimei drew a letter from his sleeve and gave it a slight shake. “On the afternoon of the third, someone wrote to me, expressing willingness to talk, and along with it sent these newspapers. Today is the sixth, and by now, in Fuzhou, the former Crown Prince will surely be applying pressure while extending an olive branch in the same breath — there are probably quite a few more letters like this one on the road right now… Ah, young people always believe the ways of the world are as hard and sharp as a blade, seeking only to charge boldly forward. But the ways of the world are like a single cake to be divided — if you refuse to share it, others will simply go eat at another table…”

Wu Qimei did not pass the letter around for others to read. He stood there, facing the light from the window, his expression cold and stern, as if embodying the indifference of heaven and earth toward all things. In his eyes, which had seen every manner of worldly affairs, there was a look that was seven parts composure and three parts mockery.

“…A path that leads only to ruin.”