Night had grown deep. At the ducal residence, Shi Li’ai’s hand rested on the list, and he fell silent for a long while, seeming almost to have drifted off to sleep from old age. This silence continued for some time, until Chen Wenjun finally could not help but speak. “My lord…”

Shi Li’ai raised his head slightly and opened his eyes. “This old man… was merely considering how to put this matter more gently. But… truly, I have grown old — for a moment I could not find the right words. The reason for this is something you must already understand clearly in your heart, madam, and this old man can find no suitable way to explain something so plain to you all over again.”

Shi Li’ai’s gaze turned toward Chen Wenjun; though his eyes appeared aged, they carried within them a searing, interrogating quality. Chen Wenjun took a deep breath. “…All I know is that my lord personally promised me this.”

“This old man has broken his word, and let these two hundred people die here — that is far better than sending them to the Gushen household only to have them handed over and killed there… Lady Wanyan, this is a different time now. This evening, on your way here, did you not see the great fire at Chounan Ward? Right now, no fewer than two hundred people there have been burned alive — burned alive while still living…”

As Shi Li’ai said this, Chen Wenjun pressed her lips tightly together, her gaze growing resolute. “Heaven has a virtue of cherishing life, my lord. No matter how the fighting goes in the south, it cannot change where I come from. I will investigate the matter of Chounan Ward, and I will make it public! Losing a battle at the front and then killing defenseless slaves in retaliation — that is the act of cowards! I will say this to their faces too — let them come and kill me for it!”

“Madam, you put men to shame with your courage — well said. This matter was indeed the work of cowards, and this old man will investigate it thoroughly as well. Once the culprits are found, they will be exposed and denounced before everyone, in hopes that the killing of Han slaves will happen less from now on. Such things cannot be brought into the open normally, so exposing them is indeed a righteous course of action. What you intend to do is right, and if anyone shows you disrespect over it, this old man will personally beat them to death.”

The old man spoke these words slowly, then paused. “However… you also know full well, madam, that throughout the entire western front, from the Marshal’s headquarters on down, who knows how many men have lost fathers and brothers in this southern campaign. Exposing their venting of rage and confronting them over it publicly is one thing — but under these circumstances, your wanting to save two hundred southern prisoners is another matter entirely. Had the southern campaign gone smoothly, you could have taken those two hundred people and released them with ease. And if you were unreasonable about it and gathered your household guards to simply seize all five hundred by force, no one would have dared raise the matter before Gushen either. But at this particular moment, given the situation in the west…”

The night wind blew across the sky over Yunzhong, making a low moaning sound beneath the courtyard eaves. Shi Li’ai’s lips moved, and after a long while, he finally leaned on his cane and rose, trembling. “…The catastrophic defeat in the southwest, the ferocity of the Black Banner’s firearms, the unyielding resolve of its troops — none of this has ever been seen before. The rivalry between the eastern and western courts is about to come to a head, and the calamity of ruin looms close at hand. Madam, would you truly stake the entire Gushen household’s survival on these two hundred prisoners? If you will not think of yourself, will you not think of Dezhong and Youyi? They are your own children!”

Chen Wenjun’s gaze flickered for a moment. “…Is there truly no way at all?”

Shi Li’ai’s gaze, fixed on her, now turned aside slightly. “Gushen is a hero of his generation — could it be that the letters he sends back to you, madam, report only the good news and never the bad?”

“He wrote in his letter that if I ever found myself unable to decide on a matter, I could come and consult you, my lord.”

Shi Li’ai raised his head and gave a soft, faintly mocking chuckle. “Lord Gushen is broad-minded, beyond the reach of ordinary men — yet it seems he has forgotten that when this old man first entered service, he did so under Marshal Zongwang. Now, speaking of the rivalry between the eastern and western courts, this old man’s thoughts naturally turn to the two princes, Zongfu and Zongbi. With the Marshal’s southern campaign having failed, does he not fear that this old man might simply turn around and sell out the entire western court?”

The old man’s words came almost as a murmur to himself. Chen Wenjun, for her part, picked up the list from the tea table once more. In truth, she understood most of these things perfectly well in her heart — she had only come to Shi Li’ai now out of a lingering hope, wishing that this venerable lord might still have some means of fulfilling his original promise. But hearing him speak thus, she now understood that he was refusing, in earnest.

“…If this old man were to make a move against the western court, the very first thing that would happen would be having those two hundred people delivered into your hands, madam — and by then, news of the crushing defeat in the southwest will already have spread, and countless people will be watching those two hundred people closely, demanding that you hand them over, demanding that you kill them with your own hands. And if you refuse, they will pressure Gushen to kill you instead… Lady Wanyan, you have held such a high position in the north for so long now — have you truly not learned even the slightest measure of caution?”

Chen Wenjun folded up the list, a bitter smile crossing her face. “In its day, the Shi family’s name resounded far and wide. When the Liao state fell, Zhang Jue first rose to prominence, and later the Martial Dynasty repeatedly extended generous offers and invitations to you, my lord — yet you not only refused sternly yourself, but strictly forbade your sons and grandsons from taking office there. Later, when you entered court under Marshal Zongwang and conducted yourself as an official, you remained impartial in all things, thinking only of the greater fortunes of the Jin state, never of the rise and fall of any single family’s power… You are a man who will leave his name in history — why would I need to be wary of you, my lord?”

Shi Li’ai leaned on his cane, shook his head, and sighed again. “When I first entered service, my heart was inclined toward the Great Jin, because the Jin state produced one hero after another in that era, its rising fortunes commanding genuine admiration and respect. Whether the late emperor, the current emperor, Marshal Zongwang, Marshal Nianhan, or Gushen — all of them were heroes of their generation. Lady Wanyan, I do not wish you harm. My reason for holding onto these two hundred people is for the reputation of the Gushen household, and so that when the Marshal and Gushen return, the western court will still have some leverage in hand to face down the challenges from Princes Zongfu and Zongbi.”

He paused his cane. “In the letter Gushen sent back, he already explained the matter of the Black Banner to me in detail. In this southern campaign, the western route army has indeed been defeated. The Black Banner’s advances in natural science and its methods of military governance are things never before seen or heard of. This old man, having lived long in Yunzhong, thus has some understanding of the Marshal and Gushen’s approach to commanding troops, and of the development of the Great Construction Institute. A force capable of defeating the Marshal and the western route army will, in the future, inevitably become a mortal threat to our Great Jin. The Marshal and Gushen have already made their decision — to set aside much, in the hope of preserving the greatest possible strength for the future struggle against the Black Banner. For the sake of the Jin state, then, this old man too must ensure this transition proceeds smoothly… Let Princes Zongfu and Zongbi take hold of the future, while the Marshal and Gushen preserve their experience…”

As he spoke, Chen Wenjun sat back down in her chair. “…Even so, I will still speak out, in the future, about this wanton slaughter of Han slaves.”

“For our Great Jin to flourish, men will be needed everywhere. That the sons and younger brothers of these noble families have died on the battlefield, and that they vent their anger on others, is understandable, even if it accomplishes nothing. If you wish to expose this matter, madam, it would benefit the Jin state, and I support it. It is only the matter of those two hundred prisoners that this old man has no way of handing back to you. That is poisoned wine — swallow it, and the Gushen household will not easily extricate itself. I hope Lady Wanyan can, in light of these circumstances, forgive this old man’s breach of promise.”

Having laid all this groundwork, the old man ended with a token clasped-hand apology to Chen Wenjun. She said nothing further; having lived long in the north, she naturally understood the manner in which the Jin state’s high officials conducted their affairs — once a decision had truly been made, no relationship or connection, however invoked, could sway it. Though Shi Li’ai was Han by blood and came from a family of scholars, his manner of conducting affairs was swift and decisive, much like the first generation of Jin heroes.

She sat there for a while longer, and at last spoke. “My lord, you have lived through the rise and fall of two dynasties and been courted by three factions, yet you have never once erred in your judgment. But back then, could you ever have imagined that such a group of Han people, flying a black banner, would emerge from the horizon of the southwest?”

Shi Li’ai shook his head. “Lady Wanyan gives me too much credit. A man’s life is not that of a god — how could I never err? I looked down on the weakness of southerners back then, and I hold the same view today. The rise of the Black Banner may well be a case of things reversing once pushed to their extreme, but whether such a ruthlessly determined army can go far — that is hard to say… Still, matters having come to this point, it is no longer a headache for this old man to bear. It should be a problem for Dezhong and Youyi to solve in the future. I only hope… it ends well.”

He walked slowly back to his chair and sat down again. “Life in this world is like standing before a great river, its waters surging forward. This old man’s life, in the end…”

The old man gazed at the night sky ahead, his lips trembling. After a long while, he finally spoke. “…has simply been to do my best.”

The surging waters of that great river at last crashed against the Han people of Yunzhong Prefecture.

The following day was the thirteenth of the fifth month. Lu Mingfang and Tang Minjie finally learned, through different channels, the outcome of the great battle in the southwest. Following Ning Yi’s defeat of the Yanshan Garrison at Wangyuan Bridge and the execution of Xiebao, the Huaxia Army’s Seventh Corps had, with twenty thousand men west of Hanzhong city, crushed the hundred-thousand-strong army of Nianhan and Xiyin, cutting down Wanyan Sheyema before the very front lines. By this point, the generals and soldiers of the western route army who had followed Nianhan and Xiyin south had suffered losses beyond counting. The Jurchen army, which had swept across the realm unchallenged for forty years since rising with Aguda, had at last, before that black banner, suffered the most catastrophic defeat in its entire history.

News of this had already begun spreading among the mid- and upper-level ranks of the Jurchens, and for a time, Yunzhong Prefecture was filled with an atmosphere of both violent fury and sorrowful grief. When the two men met, there was naturally nothing to celebrate; they merely sat in a relatively safe hiding place, substituting tea for wine, discussing what needed to be done next — in truth, even this hiding place no longer felt entirely secure. The mood within the city had visibly grown tenser, with constables going door to door searching for Han slaves who looked pleased, having already caught wind of the rumors and eager to root out a batch of Han spies to make an example of.

“…As I said before — if you want to go south, leave sooner rather than later. Once the news spreads more widely in a few days, anyone with a Han appearance in the trading caravans heading south will likely have a hard time of it. Right now, while those steppe people are still out there raiding and pillaging, it might actually be safer to slip through.”

With the outcome of the great battle in the southwest now settled, the entire strategic direction of intelligence work going forward might well need to change, and someone would have to make the trip south. Having discussed this for a while, Tang Minjie emphasized the point once more. Lu Mingfang smiled. “There are still some matters that need arranging. Actually, after this, I imagine the situation in the north will only grow more tense and complicated. I’ve been thinking — this time, I won’t be going back myself.”

“Who else besides you knows the full situation here? None of this can be written in a letter. If you don’t go back, there’s no one qualified to convey even the idea of allying with the steppe people to the teacher and the others.”

“Why don’t you make this trip back instead?” Lu Mingfang said, pouring a cup of tea. “You’ve been here four years now, and haven’t gone back to visit even once.”

“Old Lu, I’m not boasting, but when it comes to surviving and getting things done, I might just be a notch above you.”

Hearing Tang Minjie say this so unabashedly, Lu Mingfang laughed heartily, then, after a moment, asked, “You don’t want to go back and see it?”

“I can be of more use over here.”

Lu Mingfang said, “With your abilities, you’d be useful wherever you went.”

Tang Minjie shook his head. “…There was a reason the teacher assigned me here.”

“They said you were too ruthless dealing with those Yi tribespeople in Liangshan. But I think, in a life-and-death struggle, a bit of ruthlessness is nothing to be ashamed of — you never turned it against your own people. And I’ve long noticed — you’re the kind of man who would rather die himself than raise a hand against your own.”

Tang Minjie smiled as well. “Saying that, you’re actually giving me too much credit… In truth, I know that my methods were excessive. Resorting to them once, as an emergency measure, is one thing, but if you’re planning for ten or a hundred years, you can’t ignore your reputation. You don’t know this, but in Liangshan, I killed men’s entire families, and threatened their wives and children to make them cooperate — and if word of that ever truly spreads, it will leave a lasting stain for decades, even a century.”

“…You actually did that?”

“There were a few… Huaxia Army brothers ambushed in the mountains. It was urgent, and a few of the die-hard Yi holdouts wouldn’t talk, so I threw their wives and children off a cliff… it wasn’t a high drop, they broke their legs. You know, the most troublesome part was that it was their own territory — he knew the drop wasn’t high enough to kill them, so I still had to drag the person back up, and cut off his son’s hand right in front of him. Once he saw I was serious, he talked.”

“And if he hadn’t talked… would you have really cut it off?”

“I’d have started with the hand.”

Lu Mingfang was silent for a moment, then raised his teacup, and the two clinked cups together.

“Did you save the people?”

“A bit too late — three of them died…” Tang Minjie said this, then looked up. “If it came to it, I’d be willing to cut off my own hand too.”

He gave a smile, one that was complicated, yet also somewhat pure and simple — a rare expression, even in front of a comrade. Lu Mingfang knew he meant it sincerely, and drank his tea quietly. Tang Minjie smiled again. “Don’t worry, you’re in charge here — I follow orders, I won’t act rashly.”

“That’s not what worries me,” Lu Mingfang said. “I’m just surprised you didn’t kill all of them.”

“Hm? Why would I?”

“Given your usual style, if you’d killed them all, the news wouldn’t have gotten out, would it?”

Lu Mingfang laughed as he said this. Tang Minjie was startled for a moment, then began laughing softly too, laughing until he had to hold his forehead. After a while, he looked up and said quietly, “…If I remember correctly, back in the day, Shopkeeper Lu Yannian sacrificed his life in Yunzhong.”

Hearing this brought up, Lu Mingfang nodded. “My father… sacrificed himself to cover our escape…”

Tang Minjie looked at him. “You’ve been here so long, seen so much… human tragedy, and you carry the hatred of your father’s death as well. How have you managed to keep your sense of proportion?” His gaze was piercing, but then he smiled. “What I mean is, you have far more restraint than I do.”

Lu Mingfang’s eyes shifted, and he sat there thinking for a good while. “It’s probably because… I’m not as formidable as the rest of you.”

“…Huh?”

“My father was Lu Yannian, who sacrificed himself back then to open up operations here,” Lu Mingfang said. “Do you think… my being able to hold my ground here has anything to do with my father?”

“Is that how you see it?”

“There’s probably some connection,” Lu Mingfang said, holding his teacup, his tone sincere. “So I’ve always kept in mind that my abilities aren’t strong, and that my judgment and decisiveness probably don’t measure up to the others here. So I have to guard my own line well, keep things as steady as possible, and not make too many rash decisions. If I let my father’s death fill me with rage I couldn’t contain, and went off seeking this or that kind of revenge, what would happen to the others whose lives depend on me? What if I dragged them down with me? I’ve always… thought about these things.”

“…” Tang Minjie fell silent for a moment, then raised his teacup and clinked it against Lu Mingfang’s. “For that alone, you’re better than me.”

“Once I go south, I’ll leave things here to you — and I’m at ease about that.”

“The situation is tense — in a couple of days I’ll have another group to send off… Remember I mentioned Luo Ye’s younger sister before?”

“You found her?”

“It took some time to confirm. She’s suffered a great deal — pretended to be mad in order to survive, but after all these years, she’s more or less genuinely half-mad now. With this great victory in the southwest, many Han people in Yunzhong are going to die — those wandering the streets could be beaten to death by anyone at any moment. I’ve thought it over, and I’ll be sending Luo Ye’s sister out this time, in two days.”

“Do you want me to escort her?”

“I’ve already arranged people — you two shouldn’t travel together, it’s not safe,” Tang Minjie said. “But once you’re out of Jin territory, you can look after her.”

Lu Mingfang nodded. “Anything else you’d like me to take care of? Like an unmarried sister waiting at home or something — should I go visit her for you when I get back?”

“You’re not suited for that,” Tang Minjie said with a laugh. “A man who runs around with his head on the line every day — I’d hate for her to end up a widow.”

“You really have a sister?” Lu Mingfang’s eyes lit up with curiosity.

Tang Minjie said, “She’s dead.”

Lu Mingfang fell silent after that. At this moment, both of them were men in their thirties. Lu Mingfang was broad-built, with an unkempt beard, and scars on his face left by Jurchen whips. Tang Minjie was gaunt, with a goatee, and still bore marks from yesterday’s fire on his face and body.

Nearly a decade earlier, Lu Yannian had been killed in Yunzhong, and Lu Mingfang, fleeing all the way, had first encountered Chen Wenjun. Not long after, the Jin envoy Fan Hongji had carried Lu Yannian’s severed head to Xiaocang River to make a show of intimidation. Tang Minjie, in class at the time, had seen Lu Yannian’s head, and had been considering how to devise a scheme to kill Fan Hongji — while Zou Xu, also in that classroom at the time, had volunteered to help Ning Yi receive Fan Hongji. That same man was now, at this moment, the leader of a rebel army at Funiu Mountain.

Time passed on, never to return.

This was the last time Tang Minjie and Lu Mingfang would ever see each other.

Both of them were smiling, very happily.