The night breeze drifted lightly, distant lights spilling out everywhere, and even nearby one could see carriages rolling past. It wasn’t yet very late into the night. Seeing the man himself arrive at the front gate with several companions, Ning Ji gave up his watch on the young woman — once she was in the tub there’d be nothing to see anyway — and swiftly climbed down from the second floor, dashing through the dark stretches between the courtyards toward the front hall.

This estate was well appointed, though in total it spanned only three courtyards deep; this wasn’t Ning Ji’s first visit, and he already knew the layout well. He felt a bit of excitement and moved quickly, crossing the middle courtyard in the blink of an eye — and nearly collided with a servant stepping out of the parlor onto the covered walkway. Thanks to his quick reflexes he darted behind a flowering tree, going from full motion to complete stillness in an instant.

Once the servant had passed, Ning Ji poked his head out to glance toward the parlor, then, a moment later, slipped inside as lightly and quickly as a mouse, climbed the pillar up to the roof beams, and hid behind a wooden panel.

The sound of laughter and conversation drew closer to the parlor’s front doors, and five people entered together. Four wore long scholar’s robes, slightly different in color and cut but clearly men of letters; the fifth wore the somewhat richer attire of a country gentleman, though he carried himself more like a traveling merchant.

Of the five, Ning Ji recognized only the one leading the way — a half-elderly Confucian scholar with a goatee, kind-looking eyes, and an air of trustworthiness. He was also the current master of this estate, a man named Wen Shoubin.

The group settled into the parlor, exchanging a stream of idle pleasantries that amounted to little more than compliments on the tasteful decor. Wen Shoubin gave a rough account of the place: it had originally belonged to some merchant, used to house a mistress; when that merchant later left the southwest, having heard Wen was coming, he’d sold the house to him. The deed was clean, the price reasonable, and the Huaxia Army had approved the transaction — no loose ends.

Hidden up in the rafters, Ning Ji listened while pulling down the black cloth over his face, rubbing at cheeks that had, for no apparent reason, grown warm, taking a few breaths before covering up again. Peering down from the shadows, he watched the five men take their seats — deference was shown to one elderly scholar with graying hair, who sat first before the other four, including Wen Shoubin, dared to sit. Ning Ji understood at once that this man held some standing. The others addressed him as “Lord Shan,” or sometimes “Lord Haoran.” Ning Ji wasn’t well versed in the city’s literary circles, so he simply committed the names to memory, intending to ask the Huaxia Army’s intelligence division about them later.

He hadn’t been watching this estate for days on end out of some idle habit of peeping on others simply because his martial skill allowed it. Lately he’d taken to treating his nighttime swims through the city as a bored pastime, wandering Chengdu’s waterways every night; one chance stop had let him overhear Wen Shoubin talking with someone else, and that was how he’d first set his sights on this small courtyard.

Over several consecutive nights of watching and listening, he’d more or less pieced together that this Wen Shoubin was a well-read old scholar, forever fretting over the state of the realm, full of schemes, who had raised a number of “daughters” and come to Chengdu hoping to stir something up — to strike a blow on behalf of the Wu Dynasty.

At first he’d been asking around about the whereabouts of Ning Yi’s eldest son; later he’d added that a younger son would do just as well, and failing that, information on Qin Shaoqian and the children of a few other senior military figures would also suffice. In the course of this, it seemed others had grown somewhat wary of him, and he’d been given the cold shoulder more than once when calling on fellow scholars of the Wu Dynasty by day; by night he’d sigh and lament, cursing those fools for their stubbornness, unable to adapt even now.

Beyond that, the old man would often sigh to the “daughter” he kept in the back courtyard about his unfulfilled ambitions, how no one understood his earnest devotion; the “daughter” would dutifully comfort him, and he in turn would remind her to hold fast to loyalty and righteousness, to remember her hatred, and to serve the Wu Dynasty well. Watching this “father and daughter” encourage each other had left Ning Ji almost feeling sorry for the old man, thinking those Wu Dynasty scholars really shouldn’t bully people like this. They were all on the same side, after all — they ought to stick together.

For a “clumsy thief” of this sort, there was little point in exposing him right away, so Ning Ji made a habit of coming each day to listen to Wen Shoubin’s sighs and endless chatter. Every day his complaints took some new form, delivered with real flair, occasionally interwoven with tales from the south of the Yangtze that left Ning Ji marveling — “Oh, so that’s how it happened…” — feeling his horizons genuinely broadened.

Between bouts of complaining, the old man spent his days losing one battle after another, scrambling to build connections and recruit whatever help he could find. Today, it seemed, he had finally landed this interested and reasonably credible “Lord Shan.” The two sides took their seats, and servants brought out fine tea and iced refreshments. After an exchange of pleasantries and flattery, Wen Shoubin finally began pitching his plan in earnest.

“…The Black Banner spent ten years grinding away, biting down on hardship, and crushed the Jurchen Western Route Army head-on. Their upper ranks may well be without any real weakness now… This time, using Chengdu as the stage, throwing the gates wide open, inviting guests from every corner — it’s a gamble on their part, but it’s truly meant to build momentum ahead of formally establishing their own court, so they can stand as equals against our Wu Dynasty…”

That’s right, that’s right… Ning Ji nodded silently up above, thinking to himself that this was indeed how things stood.

“…The Black Banner’s methods have their strengths and weaknesses, but the obvious weaknesses, they’ve already guarded against. We speak out and debate them in the newspapers — plenty of back and forth, plenty of noise — but it does little real damage to the Black Banner Army itself. If anything, take what happened the other day: Lord Huai, acting out of pure righteousness, couldn’t stand to watch those Black Banner scoundrels spread their deceptions, so he went out into the street to debate them — and ended up with his head bloodied by a stone thrown by some ignorant bystander. Doesn’t that just prove the Black Banner had this all planned from the start…”

That wasn’t even us who threw it, and somehow it’s our fault… Ning Ji pursed his lips up above, unconvinced.

Below, a chorus of commentary rose up: “Ignorant fools, beyond hopeless!”

“It was probably the Black Banner’s own people who did it.”

“Spreading lies to mislead the masses…”

“Such despicable methods…”

Lord Shan spoke up: “Debating openly in the newspapers is the honorable path, the way of true kingship. It may not show results quickly, but pressed steadily, in the end most of those we can persuade will come around.” Having settled this point, he continued, “But as the Art of War says: in battle, engage with the orthodox, win with the unorthodox. As long as we can pursue multiple approaches at once, there’s no such thing as too many methods. Please, Brother Wen, go on.”

In battle, engage with the orthodox, win with the unorthodox — good line, remember that, remember that… Ning Ji silently repeated it to himself again up on the rafters.

Meanwhile, the conversation below continued: “…I, Wen, am a lowly man, my life’s learning is far from refined, and I’ve taken something of an unorthodox path — but the teachings of the sages I learned as a child, I have never once forgotten! My earnest devotion, heaven and earth can attest to it! The daughters I’ve raised under my care are each outstanding, and each carries the same sense of righteous purpose! Now, the Black Banner has just clawed its way up out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood — this is precisely when self-indulgence is most likely to take root. Their first generation may still be on guard, but Lord Shan, gentlemen, think it through carefully — if you had risked your lives, suffered for over a decade, and fought back the Jurchens, would you truly want your own children to walk that same road again…”

“…The Black Banner’s second generation is, right now, precisely their greatest weakness. At present they may not yet have entered the Black Banner’s inner circle, but sooner or later they will. If we plant the necessary seeds now, by the time real armed conflict comes it will already be too late to start. It is precisely today that we must plant them, to be activated years from now — by which time these second-generation figures will have entered the Black Banner’s very core, and whatever happens, we will already be prepared.”

“…The five daughters I, Wen, have placed outside — varied in skill and looks, though not the most outstanding among them — these days I only have them disguise themselves as ordinary travelers from afar and wander about, without any reliable information or targets yet, simply hoping each can use her own talents to land one contact, however small. But if truly reliable information ever surfaces, with proper planning, the role they could play would be enormous…”

“…As for my sixth daughter, Long Jun, whom I’ve placed here — I don’t say this to boast, but she is a first-rate talent, one who inspires pity even in me who raised her. If we could truly arrange things well — imagine, gentlemen, if she entered the household of the Ning family or the Qin family, even if only as a minor concubine at first, she could prove enormously useful down the line… Though I, Wen, have these several daughters, I’ve been hampered by a lack of information and channels. As for Ning Yi’s eldest son, a few days ago I only caught a glimpse of him from afar — unfamiliar with this place, I’ve found no reliable way, nor any way to even begin arranging anything…”

I’m right beside you every single day… Ning Ji arched an eyebrow.

“…Fortunately, today Lord Shan and you gentlemen have come. Lord Shan’s learning and standing lead all the notable men of Chengdu — who under heaven does not look up to him with admiration…”

“Not at all, not at all…” the old man waved a hand.

“…I, Wen, am well aware this scheme is somewhat unseemly, but given the current state of affairs, I, in my foolishness, could think of no other way. Gentlemen, that Ning Yi speaks openly of wishing to destroy Confucianism — we, his students, who have received two thousand years of grace from the Confucian sages, how could we possibly swallow such an insult? Lord Dai Mengwei, extreme as his methods may be, speaks the correct principle — if you do not employ Confucian ways, however forceful your methods, it amounts to nothing but fifty years of chaos and the deaths of millions more… I, Wen, raise these daughters seeking no reward for myself, only to serve Confucianism, to let the people of this realm understand the calamity that is the Black Banner, so that they may guard against the great catastrophe that may yet come — only for this…”

He delivered this impassioned speech, adding a few more words afterward, and the whole company took on an air of solemn respect. Lord Shan spoke up to ask: “Brother Wen’s high-minded devotion, we now understand well. So long as it serves the greater cause, what does it matter which methods rank higher or lower? The realm today stands in peril, and facing such a demon, this is precisely the moment for us to join hands in righteous cause… Only, we naturally trust in your character, Master Wen — but as for this daughter of yours, what is her background, and is she truly so reliable? If we labor so carefully to place her within the Black Banner, only for the Black Banner to turn her against us and use her as bait instead… such a possibility cannot be ignored.”

This was a reasonable enough question from Lord Shan, but up on the rafters Ning Ji froze for a moment, his eyes lighting up. That’s right — there’s that angle too… Then he grew troubled again. He had originally thought that if Wen Shoubin kept hitting dead ends, he’d simply keep watching for amusement, and if he managed to hook a few big fish, he’d strike them all down in one clean sweep. But now… do I still kill them, or not? Do I still expose this, or not?

The question was a bit beyond his fourteen-year-old, fairly straightforward mind, and he couldn’t work out an answer on the spot. Below, Wen Shoubin was already explaining:

“…This daughter of mine, Long Jun, has been steeped daily in my teachings on righteousness and duty… and in fact, she was originally the daughter of General Qu Hanting of our own Wu Dynasty. This General Qu was a deputy commander in the Wu Xing Army of the Central Plains, later conscripted by Liu Yu, and in the fourth year of Jianshuo, he died a tragic death at the hands of the Black Banner Army during their assault on Xiaocang River. With her family destroyed, Long Jun was left with nothing, and it was only then that I purchased her… She had read widely in the classics since childhood, and was already eight years old when her father died, so she remembers this hatred well — while also feeling deep shame that her father once obeyed Liu Yu’s commands…”

“With such a background, this girl surely carries a righteous heart, and no doubt Master Wen has taught her well.”

Having a father slain, feeling ashamed of that same father’s submission to Liu Yu, and harboring a desire to atone — combined with eight years of indoctrination under Wen Shoubin — the whole story became relatively convincing. The group offered their praise, and Wen Shoubin called for a servant: “Go fetch the young lady to meet our guests. Tell her they are all distinguished visitors, have her bring her pipa, and mind she shows no discourtesy.”

The servant went off to obey, and after a while Qu Longjun arrived, gliding forward with soft, measured steps in a flowing dress, cradling a pipa in her arms. Knowing distinguished guests were present, her face showed none of its usual deep melancholy; her head was lowered just the right amount, the corners of her mouth carrying a faint, shy, birdlike smile, and she greeted the assembled company with restrained, careful decorum.

Watching from above, Ning Ji thought the woman really was quite beautiful, and wondered whether these stinking old men below were about to let their base instincts run wild and do something sordid — having spent so long with the army and studied medicine besides, he understood the principles of such things well enough even without ever having done them himself — but to his surprise, the old men below conducted themselves with remarkable propriety.

Lord Shan gently and kindly asked after her name and background, then offered praise and encouragement in a rather proper manner. Since he behaved himself, the rest of the company likewise kept up warm, upright expressions. After a while of such conversation, Wen Shoubin had the girl sit to one side and play the pipa for the guests. The melody carried a mournful, wistful quality, and Ning Ji thought she played it rather well.

After playing for a while in that melancholy vein, Lord Shan asked if she could play something else. Qu Longjun’s fingers shifted technique, and she began playing “Ambush from Ten Sides”; the pipa’s tone turned fierce and martial, and her pretty face transformed along with it, taking on a heroic bearing, as if she had become a female general.

When the piece ended, the men finally applauded, thoroughly won over, and Lord Shan praised her: “Truly the daughter of a military family — this rendition of ‘Ambush from Ten Sides,’ with such transcendent technique, brings to mind the days of the Hegemon-King himself…” He then went on to ask her opinions on poetry and Confucian classics, and Qu Longjun answered each question in turn, her voice soft and lovely.

Ning Ji found himself warming to her as well. He made up his mind then and there: if this woman really did manage to seduce his elder brother or someone else in the army, the eventual separation would surely cause her real heartbreak. And besides, his brother already had Sister Chuyi — if, for the sake of landing a big fish, he had to betray Sister Chuyi and play along with false affection for years on end, that would be far too much to accept.

Since he wasn’t cut out for long-line fishing anyway, there was no need to report this upward too soon. Once these people had exhausted their manpower and finalized their scheme, right before they made their move, he would report everything up the chain and, in the process, take care of this woman and the other key players himself. That way the intelligence bureau wouldn’t get to reel in any big fish either — they’d only be able to make arrests, and that would be the end of it.

— Having thought it through this way, he felt considerably more settled.

After a while, Qu Longjun returned to the embroidery tower, and the five men in the room continued talking for some time before finally parting ways. As the guests were being seen out, someone seemed to hint to Wen Shoubin that one of his daughters ought to be sent over to Lord Shan’s residence. Wen Shoubin nodded in agreement and called a servant over to arrange it.

Once Lord Shan and the others had all been seen off, Wen Shoubin returned to his room in high spirits, then went to the embroidery tower to check on Qu Longjun, offering her a few words of encouragement and telling her to rest early, before going back to drink in celebration. When happy, he wasn’t given to the same rambling as when downcast; drinking his wine, he simply clapped his hands from time to time, wearing the look of a man brimming with ambition — utterly uninteresting to watch. Ning Ji gave up monitoring him and went to check on Qu Longjun instead, only to find the girl sitting at the edge of her bed, staring blankly into space, brooding over who knew what.

Ning Ji thought of how her expression had changed in front of outsiders, how mercurial she’d been while playing the pipa, and decided this woman really was an untrustworthy little fox-spirit — trying to get close to his elder brother, she truly deserved to die.

Well, you won’t be living much longer anyway, so go ahead and brood all you like…

Thinking this, he left the courtyard, found his waterproof gear hidden by the dark riverside, bound up his hair, and swam off toward somewhere more interesting. He didn’t bother puzzling over the identities of Lord Shan and the others just yet — since Wen Shoubin had boasted that the man “led all the notable men of Chengdu,” a casual inquiry with the intelligence division tomorrow would turn up the answer easily enough.

Lights shimmered near and far, the night soft and gentle, and Ning Ji churned along in his lazy dog-paddle, splashing past the side of a pleasure boat. This night was, to him, genuinely far more interesting than the day had been. After a while, the little dog became a fish, vanishing into the dark ripples of the water…