The rain stopped at dawn. In the shifting gray light between night and day, the world looked vast and murky. Qi Zhuyin stepped through the muddy water as she came down from the drill field, tying the band around her arm while watching her deputy ride into camp.
Her deputy was named Qi Wei, a powerfully built man. Though strong, he was extremely cautious. On the battlefield he could swing an axe; off it he could handle a needle and thread just as well. Among the soldiers he was highly respected.
Qi Wei dismounted halfway down the road. Nodding quickly to the soldiers saluting along the path, he strode straight to Qi Zhuyin and said, “Commander, the news has arrived!”
“From Qudu, or the frontier counties?” Qi Zhuyin asked.
“From both,” Qi Wei said. Short in stature, he glanced around before lowering his voice. “Qudu was suddenly hit with rain and washed clean of everything. The Xiao family’s second young master fled in haste, taking twenty thousand Imperial Guards with him. They’ve already reached the border of Zhongbo. Looks like they’re heading for Cizhou.”
Qi Zhuyin was not the least bit alarmed. Tightening the arm wrap, she bit the cord between her teeth and gave a vague smile. “The kid runs pretty fast.”
“With the military grain case before this and the attempted siege on Xiao Chiye afterward, the Prince of Libei is definitely going to be furious,” Qi Wei said as he walked beside her. “If Libei rebels, we’ll have to establish additional garrison troops in the six prefectures of Zhongbo. The Zhongbo forces would also fall under your command, Commander…”
Qi Zhuyin shrugged into an outer robe. “Zhongbo is that big. If they all hand it to me, I wouldn’t dare take it.” She waved it off. “The business in Qudu isn’t urgent. First tell me—what’s going on with the frontier garrison? Lu Guangbai fought an ambush battle—did he chase the Biansha cavalry all the way back to their homeland?”
A hesitant look crossed Qi Wei’s rough face. “Commander… General Lu disobeyed orders this time. He pursued the Biansha cavalry across the boundary line. I suspect…”
He trailed off, unwilling to say the word.
Qi Zhuyin said calmly, “The military grain allotment was cut in half this year. The frontier counties have had a hard time getting by. Using my father’s name, I signed a debt agreement with the Yan family in Hezhou. That money was freed up to buy grain for the frontier garrison. You say you suspect something? If there’s no evidence, I don’t want to hear it.”
Qi Wei knew that Qi Zhuyin valued her officers. She rewarded and punished clearly and would never ruin a man based on rumors alone. But when he had gone to the frontier to investigate, something had clearly felt wrong. That was why suspicion had arisen in the first place.
So he did not dare conceal it.
“Commander, without evidence I wouldn’t say it either. I went to the frontier to investigate the recent military situation. But not only did General Lu fail to return to camp—he even redeployed the guards stationed at the beacon towers.”
Qi Zhuyin stopped walking.
“He moved the beacon tower guards too?”
Qi Wei nodded, about to explain further, when a sudden commotion broke out nearby. The two turned and saw a crowd entering the camp from outside, surrounding a small sedan chair trimmed with decorative edges. The guards had stopped them.
Hearing the guards refuse to budge, Yingxi lifted the curtain himself and shrieked, “Do you not know who I am? What right do you have to stop my sedan chair! I am the supervisory eunuch sent by His Majesty from Qudu! Go report to Commander Qi at once—I have urgent matters to deliver!”
From a distance, Qi Zhuyin glanced over and said to Qi Wei, “Go entertain him. Tell him I’m busy and have no time to see him. Eunuchs from Qudu are all the same—feed him well, treat him well, and keep his mouth shut so he doesn’t stir up trouble.”
She tightened her cloak.
“I’m heading to the frontier counties now. Lu Guangbai isn’t the kind of man who deserts his post. Until I come back, tell anyone from Qudu that I’m not here. The waters over there are muddy right now. Keep an eye on my old man too—if he sends messages to Qudu, intercept them and tell him to behave.”
Qi Wei wanted to say something else, but Qi Zhuyin had already swung herself onto her horse.
Before leaving, she turned back and said, “The business in Qudu won’t be settled in less than half a month. Next month’s wedding will definitely have to be postponed. Take down the red silk decorations at home first—that’s all silver.”
Without waiting for a reply, she rode off with her men, bypassing Yingxi’s sedan chair and heading straight for the frontier.
After taking medicine, Shen Zechuan gradually began to recover on the road.
The Imperial Guards had to continue northeast. They needed to persuade the magistrate of Cizhou, Zhou Gui, to let them pass—but before that, they still had to shake off the pursuers dogging them from behind.
“The one chasing us relentlessly is Han Jin,” Tantai Hu said, curled up on a rock with his saber in his arms. “If we can’t drive him back before reaching Cizhou, he’ll arrive with Qudu’s orders and force Zhou Gui to seal the city gates, trapping us in Zhongbo.”
Xiao Chiye stood with his arms folded, silent. A crude map lay spread out before them.
He was not afraid of fighting Han Jin. What he had to consider was time. The longer they delayed, the worse it would be for the Imperial Guards.
Qi Zhuyin had not yet moved troops to hunt them down only because Qudu was still in chaos without an heir. Once that situation stabilized and she was free to pursue them, these twenty thousand Imperial Guards would crash straight into an iron wall.
“The difficulty isn’t fighting,” Shen Zechuan said. His pale face still lacked color as he picked up a pebble and drew lines in the dirt. “It’s whether we can fight quickly.”
“Han Jin dares to chase this far because Dancheng is behind him. The granaries there are open to the Eight Great Camps he commands. They don’t lack food or supplies. But we ran here with twenty thousand men on nothing but momentum. We have no logistical support. If we want to pass through Cizhou and reach Libei, we must solve that problem first.”
Tantai Hu still wasn’t used to discussing matters face to face with Shen Zechuan. He fell silent for a moment before glancing at Xiao Chiye.
Xiao Chiye didn’t look at him. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”
Tantai Hu shifted his posture and pointed at the map. “Cizhou and us go way back. Couldn’t Zhou Gui claim the news is blocked off and lend us some grain for emergency use?”
“No,” Shen Zechuan said, letting the pebble fall. “At a moment like this, every action signals allegiance. Even if Zhou Gui doesn’t intend it that way, once he does it, Qudu will see him as aiding rebels. After we pass through Cizhou, he’ll be arrested and brought to Qudu for punishment. Zhou Gui has a whole family—he’ll never do that.”
Ding Tao looked up from his notebook. “Didn’t Brother Chen go to prepare military grain? He must be heading our way.”
“The grain he prepared has already been sent to Libei—it’s front-line supplies for the Libei Iron Cavalry,” Xiao Chiye said, crouching to examine the map. “There’s no surplus for the Imperial Guards. Even if he and Gu Jin arrive, they can’t bring much.”
As the saying goes, before the army moves, the provisions move first.
Back when Libei and Qidong drove back the Biansha cavalry, it was precisely because the Biansha forces had no logistical reserves and couldn’t afford prolonged fighting.
Now the Imperial Guards were in the same situation. Trapped here, they couldn’t afford the attrition.
Taking Cizhou by force might be a solution—but it would be a terrible one. They had already spent nearly one hundred thousand taels in Cizhou over time, building mutual trust with Zhou Gui for the sake of the future.
“Then we turn back and take Dancheng,” Tantai Hu suggested after some thought. “Dancheng has the granaries. We don’t stay in the city—just grab the food and go. Once we reach Cizhou, everything will be easier to negotiate.”
“No,” Shen Zechuan said with a faint sigh. “Dancheng connects directly to Chuancheng and Qudu through military roads. Turning back gives Qudu time to mobilize the remaining Eight Great Camps. Even if we reach the city, there’s no guarantee we can take it quickly.”
Both of Tantai Hu’s proposals had been rejected. His face grew awkward, and he rubbed his hands without speaking again.
His brother Tantai Long was a fine general, but no one had ever taught Tantai Hu. At this moment he felt both embarrassed and uneasy—yet he was convinced by Shen Zechuan’s reasoning. He was not unreasonable; he knew he was a rough man.
Xiao Chiye seemed able to read his thoughts. He reached out and slapped Tantai Hu on the back casually.
“Counterattacking Dancheng is limited by time, but it’s still a method. You’ve only fought one street battle against the Eight Great Camps back in Qudu. Now that you’re out here, ask more questions when you don’t understand. In the future you’ll have plenty of chances to lead troops and make decisions. You won’t always have Lord Shen there to guide you. Tiger—learning never ends. If you’re willing to stumble a few times, you’ll have a bright future.”
The dirt map had been smeared into a mess.
Looking up at the sun, Shen Zechuan said, “Han Jin is a Qudu noble. Normally he only rides horses on hunting grounds, so for now he can’t match our pace.”
“If we stage an ambush here,” Xiao Chiye said, scanning the terrain, “we can seize Han Jin’s provisions. We might not even need twenty thousand men.”
“He’s afraid of you,” Shen Zechuan said, touching a bit of dirt with his fingertip. “He’s been chasing cautiously the whole way. If we want him to fall into an ambush, we’ll need bait.”
“I’ll take five hundred men and wait here,” Xiao Chiye said. “To the east there’s a muddy riverbed—mountains on two sides, forest on the third. Tiger takes two thousand men and lies in wait there.”
He wiped the dirt from Shen Zechuan’s fingertip.
“Ding Tao, tonight take some men into the towns along the road to eat and drink. Spread the story that the Imperial Guards ran here, that I’m too poor to buy grain and can’t get out of Zhongbo. The army’s morale is collapsing and deserters are everywhere.”
Han Jin was young. During the blockade at Guanguo, he had already crossed paths with Xiao Chiye. Shen Zechuan was right—he truly feared him.
In fact, among the spoiled sons of Qudu’s noble families, very few did not fear Xiao Chiye. His physique and personality had made him a genuine tyrant even before the autumn hunt.
The Southern Forest hunting grounds had been a turning point. For legitimate sons like Han Jin—who were not the eldest in their families and were protected by fathers and older brothers—entering official life was smooth sailing. On the surface they seemed similar to Xiao Chiye, but they had never stepped forward the way he had.
Han Jin might pursue cautiously out of fear, but he would never miss the chance to defeat Xiao Chiye.
All Xiao Chiye had to do was give him an opening.
“Besides that,” Shen Zechuan said after a moment’s thought, turning to Ding Tao, “spread word that the Marquis and I are at odds. That we’ve argued repeatedly along the way and are on the verge of going our separate ways.”
“Trouble both inside and out,” Xiao Chiye said, baring his teeth in a grin. “Make it sound as miserable as possible.”
Ding Tao scribbled quickly in his notebook.
Still uneasy, Tantai Hu asked, “Can Taozi act the part? Let him try it here first.”
Ding Tao rubbed his eyes and read aloud from the notebook:
“My master has been harmed so badly! The Eight Great Camps are chasing us like dogs, chasing us until he doesn’t even have money for porridge. We fled Qudu for our lives—didn’t even have time to settle our estates or shops. Didn’t take the silver from the household either. Our pockets are emptier than sheep droppings! My master still owes several thousand taels to an earring shop on Shenwu Street, and now he can’t pay it back! Lord Shen got sick after being drenched in the rain—very sick—but we don’t even have money to hire a doctor. Even the lowly official—uh—Lord Shen has abandoned my master! Now the troops are starving as they run. I’m so hungry my mouth is sour from it. I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I took a few brothers and robbed some travelers for a little money. We used to be sons of decent families, forced into this state because we followed the wrong man! Now we’re going to eat something and keep heading for Dancheng to join Han Jin! Han Jin is great—he’s got money and grain! Follow him and you’ll have a future! A future means—”
Ding Tao read it with dramatic emotion.
Xiao Chiye said, “Your master thinks you did very well. Tiger—strip off his little robe, smear mud all over his face, and give him three strings of copper coins. Send him on his way. No need to eat at an inn—just walk the streets of the town banging a bowl.”
Then he narrowed his eyes.
“Why are you staring at Lanzhou like that?”