Yunzhong Prefecture, the setting sun was swallowing the horizon.

Human voices mingled with the rampage of flames, appearing chaotic and shrill beneath the sky that had only just turned to night; figures ran and screamed amid the fire, and the air was thick with the smell of burning flesh.

Chounan Ward, the slum district within Yunzhong Prefecture where Han people gathered, was densely packed with makeshift shacks. At this moment, a great fire was raging and spreading unchecked; water-cart teams for firefighting rushed over from a distance, but Chounan Ward had always been laid out chaotically, without any order, and once the flames had taken hold, the few water carts available were powerless against this blaze.

Chief Constable Mandu Dalu stood at a nearby street corner watching it all unfold, hearing voices near and far. Someone burst out from the flames, their entire body charred black, collapsing into the filthy water outside the marketplace, their final, shrill cries piercing and unbearable to hear. Chounan Ward was where some of the ransomed southerners lived; along the nearby streets, quite a few Jin people watched the spectacle, discussing it amongst themselves.

Mandu Dalu had come to discuss business with a nearby gang — one composed mostly of Xi people — but seeing the raging fire, the gang members had all gone off to help with rescue efforts and gather information. He watched from the roadside for a while; his deputy and several constables from the city had already come over, asking in a low voice, “Chief, what’s going on? This is a big one…”

Mandu Dalu was one of the city’s chief constables, handling matters with far-reaching and significant implications. This raging fire before him, of unknown death toll — though the victims were all southerners — was nonetheless bound to have a severe impact; if it needed to be investigated and managed, action should be taken now.

“Go help out, and ask around while you’re at it.”

As Mandu Dalu said this, several of his constables dispersed in different directions. His deputy, however, could see that something was off in his expression. The two stepped aside, and only then did the deputy ask, “Chief, this is…”

“The fire started simultaneously in three different courtyards. Many people hadn’t even realized what was happening before both escape routes were blocked off. For now, hardly anyone has noticed this detail. Keep an eye on it — we may need to arrange some testimony later on…”

The deputy turned to look at the blaze. “This fire has already killed or injured at least a hundred people — something this big, shouldn’t we…?”

“Don’t worry. In a couple of days, no one will be asking about it anymore.”

“…” There was a complicated undertone to Mandu Dalu’s words — neither sorrowful nor pleased. The deputy turned this over in his mind for a moment, then recalled a rumor he’d heard earlier today. “Chief… that rumor from the south… it couldn’t possibly be true, could it…”

Mandu Dalu was silent for a long moment. “…It seems it is true.”

“How could that possibly be!”

The deputy exclaimed, drawing glances from people on the nearby street. He glared fiercely back until they looked away, then hurriedly spoke to Mandu Dalu again. “Chief, a thing like this… how could it possibly be true, Marshal Nianhan himself…”

Mandu Dalu suddenly slapped his hand on the deputy’s shoulder. “Whether it’s true or not, we’ll know in a couple of days!”

“…A matter like this couldn’t possibly be kept under wraps.”

“Isn’t that exactly… what’s happening right now? No concealment at all.”

Mandu Dalu’s gaze turned toward the sea of flames — the wooden memorial archway in front of Chounan Ward had already caught fire and collapsed. He said, “If it’s true, you should already be able to guess what happens next.”

“If it’s true…” The deputy swallowed hard, his teeth grinding. “Then these southerners here… not a single one of them will survive.”

The flames raged on, sparks rising into the night sky like countless dancing butterflies. Mandu Dalu recalled several figures he had seen earlier — a few young men from noble families in the city, reeking of wine, who had hurried away after seeing the fire start burning. In his heart, he did not feel entirely without pity for the southerners caught in the blaze, but given the recent rumors and the possibilities they vaguely suggested, he found he no longer had any spare compassion left to extend to slaves.

Recalling the siege that had only ended last month, and the war still ongoing in the west, he sighed inwardly — truly, the Great Jin had suffered one calamity after another of late…

The raging fire burned on from nightfall well past the hour of Xu, and by the time it was finally brought somewhat under control, the wooden shacks and houses that were destined to burn had already been consumed; most of the street had been reduced to smoldering embers, sparks drifting up into the sky, and throughout the night, cries and moans spread across the area in an unbroken wave.

With a lock of hair burned away and his face streaked with soot and ash, Tang Minjie sat slumped by the roadside for a moment, the smell of charred flesh all around him. Seeing constables approaching from down the road and more officials from the yamen gathering, he struggled up from the ground and staggered off into the distance.

After getting burn medicine from a nearby clinic, he went to the restaurant where he was hiding to bandage himself up a bit. At the quarter-hour of Hai, Lu Mingfang arrived, and seeing his injuries, said, “I heard… about the fire at Chounan Ward, you…”

“I’m fine. Two of my informants were burned to death.”

“What happened? I heard the fire was massive — they could see it from the other side of the city.”

“What we talked about yesterday… something’s not right with the Jurchens…”

“Maybe it’s really true — that they’ve been utterly defeated in the south…”

“About time, if you ask me…”

Tang Minjie sat down in a chair; seeing that his injuries weren’t serious, Lu Mingfang sat down as well, and the two speculated together on various possibilities.

Since early in the fourth month, the situation in Yunzhong Prefecture had grown tense, with intelligence flowing extremely poorly. After the Mongols broke through Yanmen Pass, the north-south channels of communication had been temporarily cut off, and afterward the Mongols had laid siege to the city, with Yunzhong Prefecture placed under martial law. This standoff had continued until early fifth month, when the Mongol cavalry, after a spell of rampaging, had withdrawn toward the northwest. Yunzhong Prefecture’s curfew had only just been lifted these past few days, and Lu Mingfang, Tang Minjie, and the others had been constantly piecing together fragments of intelligence — otherwise, having already met yesterday, they wouldn’t be meeting again today.

“The news from the steppe side has been confirmed.” After each had thought it over for a moment, Lu Mingfang finally spoke. “On the third of the fifth month, Gao Muliang’s twenty-seven thousand men were defeated southeast of Fengzhou (modern-day Hohhot). The steppe people’s real target was never Yunzhong — it was Fengzhou. They raided Fengzhou’s armory. Fighting is still ongoing there now; Gao Muliang is said to be furious, and I hear Shi Li’ai is quite anxious as well.”

“…No wonder.” Tang Minjie blinked.

The Jin had clashed with these steppe peoples several years earlier; at the time, the commanding general was Shulisu, and in the early stages of that conflict, they had even suffered some setbacks against the steppe cavalry’s assaults, though they soon evened the score. The steppe peoples had not dared to lightly encroach on Jin territory after that, but later, taking advantage of the Western Xia’s crushing defeat before the Black Banner, they had used a surprise strike to seize Yinchuan, subsequently annihilating the entire Western Xia state.

Before the Jin state’s fourth southern campaign, its national power had been at its peak, with Nianhan leading over two hundred thousand troops south. At the time, the western court’s forces had still had some room to spare in defending against threats from the west, with the main force tasked with guarding against the west being the Fengzhou army under General Gao Muliang. This time, the steppe cavalry had launched a surprise attack, breaking through Yanmen Pass and besieging Yunzhong; various forces had come to relieve the siege, only to be defeated one after another through a strategy of besieging the city to draw out and destroy relief forces. By the end of the fourth month, Gao Muliang at Fengzhou could no longer restrain himself and led his army to relieve Yunzhong.

The steppe cavalry clashed with these relief forces one engagement after another, losing more often than winning, but always managing to escape in time. Faced with this continuous baiting, Gao Muliang finally took the bait in early fifth month, deploying so many troops that Fengzhou’s own defenses were left hollow — and the steppe people, seizing the opportunity, captured the city. His main force rushed back in haste, only to be crushed en route by the Mongols’ main force, and was now still regrouping, attempting to retake this strategically vital city of Fengzhou.

“…If this is truly the case, these steppe people have deep designs on the Jin state — breaking through Yanmen Pass, besieging Yunzhong, luring out and defeating relief forces, drawing out Gao Muliang, seizing Fengzhou, then turning around and defeating him… this whole coordinated sequence of feints and strikes couldn’t have been pulled off without years of careful, calculated planning…”

Having heard Lu Mingfang’s report, Tang Minjie frowned and thought for a moment, then said, “Heroes and men of such caliber — we could work with people like that…”

“I’ve been thinking the same thing.” Lu Mingfang nodded, then continued, “I’ll write to the southwest for instructions on this matter, but right now, the most pressing thing is probably the news from the southwest. Tonight’s fire at Chounan Ward was far too large — it doesn’t seem right to me. Also, I hear that the Marquis of Loyal Valor’s household beat three Han people to death today, for no apparent reason.”

“…Han slaves?”

“…What else could they be? There’s no such thing as a Han master up here in the north.”

“…Then he’ll have to pay a fair amount of compensation.”

Tang Minjie murmured this quietly. There were things they suspected, but at this moment, they hardly dared to voice their suspicions even to themselves, and the atmosphere in Yunzhong Prefecture only made their feelings more complicated. The two fell silent for quite a while.

Tang Minjie said, “If the southwest truly has won a great victory, the news should be confirmed within a day or two — something like this can’t be suppressed forever… At that point, you’ll need to make a trip back. As for the idea of allying with the steppe people, there’s no need to write that back in a letter, though.”

He paused, then added, “…Actually, I think we should first go ask that lady from the Gushen household. If news like this is truly confirmed, who knows what the situation in Yunzhong Prefecture will turn into. If you’re planning to head south, leaving a step early might be safer.”

Lu Mingfang smiled. “A matter like that can’t be arranged in just a day or two.”

The two did not speak further on this matter after that.

At almost the same moment, Chen Wenjun was meeting with the elderly Shi Li’ai at his residence. Her face looked haggard; even careful grooming could not fully conceal the trace of exhaustion showing between her brows. Even so, she took out a list, already worn with age, and placed it before Shi Li’ai.

“The reason I’ve come today is that I simply cannot wait any longer. This batch of people — you promised me last winter, my lord, that you would hand them over. Their journey was delayed, and they only arrived after the spring thaw — that couldn’t be helped. But I waited through February for March, through March for April, and now it’s already the fifth month, and many of the people on this list have already… perished. My lord, you promised me two hundred people — surely you must give them to me now.”

What she referred to concerned the matter of Han prisoners escorted north from the south around the beginning of last winter. To demonstrate the achievements of the western route army’s southern campaign, these five hundred people were either soldiers who had resisted the army at places like Xiangfan, or the family members of southern officials and defeated generals. The northern winter was bitterly cold and the roads difficult to travel, so escorting five hundred people had taken a great deal of time, and it was only with the arrival of spring that they were formally handed over at Yunzhong. Afterward, they had been paraded and put on display, then subjected to cruel punishment. Two hundred of them were originally supposed to be handed over to Chen Wenjun by the end of March, but Shi Li’ai had suddenly changed his mind and refused to mention the matter of handing them over at all. Now, at last, Chen Wenjun could bear it no longer and had come to his door.

Shi Li’ai reached out his hand and pressed it down on the list, his gaze dim, as if lost in thought. After a while, he seemed almost to have fallen asleep from old age. The silence in the hall stretched on and on for a long while…