Lei Jingzhe claimed that Bai Cha was Gedale Ren Jinku’s courtesan, but that was a lie—Bai Cha had never set foot in Gedale. Her bloom was brief; half her life was spent in Duanzhou.
Thirty years ago, when Wolf King Xiao Fangxu was still at Luoxia Pass, carrying hay to feed horses, and Amur served as an eagle attendant by the Chashi River, Bai Cha had already been sold to Duanzhou. Boys never imagined that within a few years they would become men who could stir storms; girls, however, already knew the path that awaited them.
Cuiqing was Bai Cha’s mother. At the time, she was in the prime of her beauty—her movements like drifting snow, leaning against the doorway and drawing the eyes of passing men. She also had a keen eye, selecting Bai Cha from among many girls and raising her carefully.
At that time, there was no Libei; the north was the domain of the Hard Snake tribe. Duanzhou was surrounded by enemies and close to the Biansha tribes east of the Chashi River. Highwaymen had found ways to profit, abducting young women, forging household registrations with colluding officials, selling some to Duanzhou’s Chu House, and taking the rest across the river to the Biansha tribes.
Cuiqing’s business was difficult, squeezed by competitors. She spent half her life raising these girls, hiring teachers to instruct them in music, chess, and literature, hoping that when the time came, she could hold her head high. She was especially strict with Bai Cha, who in a few years indeed lived up to expectations, becoming the top girl in the house.
“Do you know who died most by the Chashi River back then?” Hairegu paused; receiving no answer, he spoke to himself: “Women.”
At the height of the highwaymen’s rampage, their numbers reached nearly ten thousand. They roamed both sides of the Chashi River, exchanging women for money. Even those who escaped were never able to return home.
“Later, the tribes cast us into Gedale,” Hairegu continued, “and abandoned some women they no longer… needed. Some returned on foot, but acceptance by their families was rare.”
These women had lost their household registration; returning to the Great Zhou was nearly impossible. Even if they made it back, parents and siblings often refused them. To live was worse than death. If pregnant, the crime was considered extreme; returning home could mean beatings or even being burned alive.
Hairegu pressed his dry lips together. “My mother was a girl from Dengzhou, sold to the Blue Rat tribe, and became the captive of the tribe’s leader. He not only violated her but, before dying, gave her to his younger brother, who at a banquet later handed her to someone else. She moved between Biansha tribes, eventually escaping with me. After countless hardships, we reached Duanzhou. Thankfully, her registration was intact; the authorities still kept a record searching for her. She was publicly shamed… but we eventually returned to Dengzhou, welcomed by her brother.”
Next door, the merchants’ shouts had quieted; it was deep into the night.
Hairegu sat under the eaves, finishing a bowl of water before continuing: “My mother was happy. To supplement the household, she worked tirelessly. We stayed there for half a month, then one night she was loaded onto a carriage and sold again to Duanzhou.”
Hairegu’s mother bore invisible wounds, wounds called “woman.” In Duanzhou’s Chu House, she endured… there was no other path. Living was agony. Hairegu could attest—his mother was harmless and kind.
“She met Bai Cha in Duanzhou,” Hairegu said, glancing at Shen Zechuan but correcting himself to Xiao Chiye. “You would never guess: Bai Cha became the guardian of the Chashi River. Cuiqing kept expanding the building complex, but it was Bai Cha’s idea. She gained power enough to override Cuiqing, establishing a strong enough network in Duanzhou to shelter women and children.”
Bai Cha did not act alone; she only drew aside the first curtain. They hid in the glittering world of indulgence, navigating the long night. This war was silent; Bai Cha realized that protection alone was insufficient.
“Household registration in Duanzhou was difficult, and the outskirts lacked garrisoned troops. Bai Cha’s protection could not extend across the mountains. She was a bird trapped in a cage. Heaven refused aid, yet some must pay a price,” Hairegu said slowly, lifting his gaze. “Bai Cha set her sights on the highwaymen; she wanted them punished first.”
“At the time, the Zhu family and the highwaymen were deeply entangled. They were effectively the lawless support behind the highwaymen in Duanzhou. Lei Jingzhe’s mother, Xiao Yinlei, married into the Zhu family. She once tried to persuade the Zhus to send troops against the highwaymen but failed. That year, Shen Wei left Qudu, the Zhongbo administration withdrew, and Shen Wei was granted the title of King of Jianxing. Bai Cha decided to marry him.”
When Shen Wei met Bai Cha, he could never distinguish in later years whether their encounter was intentional. But he was captured, spent lavishly, and eventually won the beauty’s hand.
“After marrying Shen Wei, Xiao Yinlei gave birth to Lei Jingzhe. Bai Cha came to the full-month celebration to speak with Xiao Yinlei, prompting Xiao Yinlei to petition the Zhus again. She warned that Shen Wei would soon launch a thorough investigation in Zhongbo. If the Zhus wanted their positions, they had to sever ties with the highwaymen immediately and strike first. Soon after, the Zhus reported to Dunzhou, presenting the highwaymen’s deeds in Duanzhou and shifting all blame onto them, then requested Shen Wei to dispatch troops to eliminate the highwaymen.”
Shen Wei agreed; he needed to prove his worth to Qudu. Dantai Long led troops, joined by Duanzhou’s garrison, and in one swift campaign crossed the Chashi River, eradicating the highwaymen’s trading posts with the Biansha tribes.
“But, as I mentioned earlier, the highwaymen joined the Liao Ying tribe. The remaining members temporarily retreated to the desert. Spies left in the Duanzhou administration tried to uncover why the Zhus betrayed them. After repeated probes, they noticed Xiao Yinlei. She soon fell out of favor and died in the Zhus’ rear courtyard. Lei Jingzhe also lost favor,” Hairegu said, pointing to his neck. “That’s why I say Lei Jingzhe is a brother. His first journey to Gedale seeking us was for help. He may have known what Xiao Yinlei was doing but still wanted to be a bandit. He told me he hoped we would join to retake Zhongbo, forming a new army to rule Dun and Duan; I refused, thinking he had given up—but he allied with Amur.”
Shen Zechuan repeated the question: “Why do you say Bai Cha split Gedale?”
“After Amur rose, he wanted to use everything efficiently, demanding we follow him as an iron hammer against Libei’s cavalry. Bai Cha then changed her mind, aiming to bring all of Gedale under the Great Zhou. Under her guidance, we resisted the Hard Snake tribe’s conscription, refusing to serve as slaves. Some retreated to the Chashi River, joining my mother. Amur refused to relent, but by then Gedale was already split.” Hairegu gestured to himself. “The Zhongbo faction under me, the Biansha faction under Jida. Jida believed women’s power alone could not secure land; they needed permanent settlements. I knew the Biansha would not reason, following Amur meant slavery—they would give no oxen or sheep to bastards. Ultimately, we separated.”
But Bai Cha died.
Shen Zechuan recalled that dream, Shen Wei’s terrified face behind the trembling beaded curtain. He clenched his right hand—the same hand that killed Jida and Lei Jingzhe—quickly connecting the dots in his mind.
“Killing Bai Cha left Gedale entirely in Amur’s hands.”
Shen Zechuan traced everything back to the beginning in Qudu.
“This was the real beginning of Zhongbo’s defeat.”