Shen Zechuan’s shackles had been removed, and he flexed his wrists while Xiao Qi kept chattering complaints. Ji Gang, pushing a wheelbarrow with nimble hands, finished unloading the military’s wine and approached, his head wrapped in coarse cloth.
Xiao Qi instructed Ji Gang to clean the courtyard before spring, then went outside to remind the night’s guards not to spread word of the events.
“Any injuries?” Ji Gang asked, holding Shen Zechuan’s arm.
“None,” Shen Zechuan said, brushing his neck where traces of Xiao Chiye’s grip remained. “Master…”
“Where does it hurt?” Ji Gang asked.
Shen Zechuan shook his head, thinking for a moment. “His strikes are forceful, fists and kicks strong. I… recognize them.”
Surprise crossed Ji Gang’s scarred face. “Our Ji family’s martial arts haven’t been taught outside.”
“When he made a move, I didn’t dare respond,” Shen Zechuan said, still tasting blood on his tongue, “afraid he’d see through me. But even by throwing a tantrum, I couldn’t sway him. Master, why does he hate me so? Shouldn’t he, when discussing politics, direct his resentment at the Empress Dowager and the external clans?”
“You foolish boy, drunk!” Ji Gang growled. “Picking on the weak—you were his only target!”
Shen Zechuan lifted his left hand. “He’s looking for this. Master, do you recognize it?”
In his palm lay an old, worn bone thumb ring.
“Strong men in the army often use heavy bows, needing such a thumb ring,” Ji Gang examined it. “Judging by the wear, it must have come from a Cangtian longbow of the Northern Frontier cavalry. But this Second Young Master of Xiao’s isn’t campaigning—why would he wear it?”
Xiao Chiye slept off the night’s events until Lu Guangbai woke him.
“You were something last night,” Lu Guangbai said, unreserved, sitting in a chair. “Barely landed a minor post, yet you went stirring trouble. I bet Ji Ming just left the mansion for the palace.”
Xiao Chiye, groggy, mumbled, “Got drunk.”
“In a few days, we all leave for the Northern Frontier,” Lu Guangbai said earnestly. “You can’t keep drinking like this. Wasting your skills, ruining your health—what then?”
Xiao Chiye remained silent.
“At the feast last night, they meant to humiliate your elder brother. You might understand him a bit—his mind busy with military affairs, thinking of your sister-in-law, yet leaving you behind. He’s burdened. In public, all flatter him, secretly hoping he won’t return from the battlefield. He does not speak of it, but flesh and blood cannot avoid pain.”
Xiao Chiye sighed, covering himself. “Do you think I don’t understand?”
“What do you understand?” Lu Guangbai tossed him a tangerine. “If you did, you’d have apologized to your elder brother already.”
Xiao Chiye took the tangerine and sat up. Lu Guangbai saw the bandaged hand and laughed, eating his own fruit. “Why pick fights? Must you suffer a bite to feel alive?”
“I asked him to sing a song,” Xiao Chiye said. “He thought I wanted his life. He’s no lightweight.”
“You’re no lightweight either—fighting a prisoner in the streets. Lucky Ji Ming arrived on time, or the city would have been in chaos.” Lu Guangbai asked, “Any serious injuries?”
Xiao Chiye checked his hand, annoyed. “He’s a dog.”
Xiao Ji Ming returned only in the afternoon. Xiao Qi followed behind, seeing Xiao Chiye standing under the eaves.
“Brother,” Xiao Chiye greeted.
Xiao Ji Ming removed his cloak, and Xiao Qi took it. A maid brought a copper basin for him to wash his hands, which he did without acknowledging Xiao Chiye.
“You weren’t going to the military review today?” Xiao Qi asked. “You got the governor’s tablet—come back for dinner tonight.”
Xiao Chiye said, “If elder brother says go, I’ll go.”
Xiao Ji Ming wiped his hands and finally looked at him. “You went last night even though I forbade it, didn’t you?”
Xiao Chiye replied, “I turned back, wanted to go home.”
“Go get the tablet. Come back for dinner,” Xiao Ji Ming said, returning the handkerchief to the basin.
Xiao Chiye left.
The garrison had been reduced and quiet after being withdrawn from the capital’s defense. Xiao Chiye rode to the office, finding a few men in short clothes sitting in the sun, idle and lazy, with none of the army’s usual fierceness.
He dismounted, carrying his whip into the courtyard. A bare pine stood in the snow, ice clinging to the eaves, the roof tiles in disrepair. Poverty was apparent.
Xiao Chiye inspected his surroundings, then descended a few steps to the main hall, flicking aside the curtain with his whip and bending slightly to enter.
Inside, men shelling peanuts around the stove turned to look. Xiao Chiye set his whip on the table and sat, saying, “You’re all here.”
The men sprang up with a clatter. Most were over forty, long in the garrison, skilled at shirking work and extorting. They sized him up, whispering among themselves with scheming eyes.
“Second Young Master!” one said, smiling. “We were waiting for you to get the tablet!”
“I’m here now. Where’s the tablet?” Xiao Chiye asked, smiling.
“Couldn’t wait for you this morning. Gongbu sent people first to do work. Assistant Minister took the tablet temporarily. Will send it back later,” the man said.
“And who are you?” Xiao Chiye asked.
“Call me Old Chen! I used to be a hundred-house officer in Dì City. Promoted by Master Hua Shisan, now in our garrison.”
“Strange,” Xiao Chiye said, leaning on the chair. “Under the governor, shouldn’t there be deputy commanders? How come an assistant minister has the tablet?”
“You don’t know,” Old Chen said respectfully, standing straighter, losing decorum. “After last year’s battle at Zhongbo, the grain transport failed, the capital’s food supply was tight. Ministry officials couldn’t pay salaries, so half the office staff were cut. No deputy commanders left, only Assistant Minister Cao and a few of us.”
“So anyone can touch the governor’s tablet now?” Xiao Chiye said.
“Normally, we just take the tablet and go. Work for Gongbu—lifting timber for the palace—cannot wait. We’re lowly; offending anyone isn’t an option.” Old Chen grinned.
“I’m the governor,” Xiao Chiye said. “I report to no one but the emperor. If the six ministries need men, it’s courtesy, not obligation. From now on, if I don’t authorize it, my men stay put.”
“Once you say it, it’s true,” Old Chen said, laughing with the others. “Now we only handle miscellaneous tasks. If we help the ministries, fine. In the Northern Frontier, things are different. Some tasks cannot be done here.”
Xiao Chiye stood. “You said, who recommended you here?”
Old Chen straightened proudly. “Master Hua Shisan! You know him? The Empress Dowager’s grandson, Master Hua’s daughter…”
Xiao Chiye kicked! Old Chen, still speaking, was knocked off balance, crashing into tables and chairs, tea spilling everywhere. He shivered on the floor, crawling and kneeling.
“The Hua family’s illegitimate brat,” Xiao Chiye spat, sweeping peanut shells. “Used to polish my boots, and you think you’re protected? A thumbtack, that’s all. You talk rules to me? My orders, my soldiers, I decide!”
Old Chen kowtowed repeatedly. “Second Young Master—second young master…”
“Half an incense stick of time,” Xiao Chiye said. “Tablet, roster, twenty thousand troops—I’ll check. Missing one? Bring their heads.”
Old Chen scrambled outside.
A few days later, the generals left the capital. Emperor Xiande escorted Xiao Ji Ming through the snow. The emperor, thin and fragile, coughed intermittently.
“Ji Ming,” he said, wrapped in a cloak, “after today, we may not meet again until next year. The Northern Frontier is restless. Though the frontier cavalry retreated, they will not submit. You are my right hand and the army’s brave spear—be cautious.”
“This rescue was late, but your majesty favors us. Father and I are humbled. If your orders require it, we shall die at the Northern Frontier,” Xiao Ji Ming said.
“Since your father fell ill, I have not seen him for years,” the emperor said, gazing at the crowd within the city gates and the century-old palace. “Regarding the Shen clan remnants, I have wronged the loyal dead. I have been sick, many matters beyond my control.”
Xiao Ji Ming looked and said, “The capital’s snow is harsh. Please take care of your health.”
The emperor slowly released his hand. “Go, my good son.”
Lu Guangbai rode out of the city and saw Xiao Chiye alone at a hilltop pavilion. He didn’t dismount, calling out, “Rascal, the brothers have gone!”
Xiao Chiye held his horse. “The rivers and roads are treacherous. Be careful!”
“Speak plainly, stop reciting poetry,” Lu Guangbai laughed. “One day you’ll return home.”
“That depends on fate,” Xiao Chiye smiled.
Horses’ hooves echoed behind. Lu Guangbai turned to see them riding—a tall, dark-haired figure in simple robes—then shouted, “Commander! Come along!”
Qi Zhuyin slowed. Her cloak old, sword on her back, light armor. To an untrained eye, just another wandering woman. But the wind revealed her face—strikingly beautiful.
“This horse is inferior,” she teased, eyebrow arched. “Can’t keep up, huh?”
Lu Guangbai grinned. “Not as fierce as the commander, but a good soldier nonetheless. We’ll see on the road who lags behind.”
“I like this one,” Qi Zhuyin nodded to Xiao Chiye. “Switch horses?”
“No, I’d be at a disadvantage,” he said, touching the mane.
Qi Zhuyin tossed him an object—he caught it. A heavy guitou dao in its scabbard.
“Before the New Year, Northern Frontier bred strong warhorses, thanks to your efforts. This weapon, crafted by my best artisans, used many precious materials,” she said. “Not bad, right?”
Xiao Chiye weighed it, smiling. “Commander, you’re my sister from now on! The blade from home is good, but too light—this one’s perfect.”
“Sister? Once you draw it, call me grandfather!” she joked.
“Named yet?” Xiao Chiye asked.
“I have an idea,” she said. “‘Langzhi’—meaning greedy and fierce. Fits you well.”
Lu Guangbai said, “‘Langzhi’ sounds too fierce. He’s…”
“Fierce,” Qi Zhuyin snapped her whip. Her horse surged forward. “Northern sons must be fierce!”
The army moved, with Qidong’s defensive troops following her across the eastern plains. Lu Guangbai, unable to linger, waved Xiao Chiye goodbye and spurred after.
In the next moment, iron-hooved cavalry thundered, shaking the ground. Xiao Chiye watched, seeing his elder brother leading the Northern Frontier cavalry like a black tide across the snow, rushing north.
Hai Dongqing sliced through the wind overhead, circling above the cavalry. Xiao Chiye held his blade, watching until the Northern Frontier cavalry vanished into the white expanse.
Shen Zechuan was lost in thought, brought back by Minister Qi’s knock.
“The generals have returned. The capital falls into stagnation again,” Minister Qi said, disheveled, stretching his neck to Shen Zechuan. “Your days are numbered—you cannot remain complacent in this jar.”
“Man on the chopping block, I’m the fish,” Shen Zechuan looked up. “Master, will I ever have a chance to leave?”
“Fortune and misfortune depend on each other. Confinement isn’t entirely bad,” Minister Qi drank from a gourd. “Staying in the shadows is easier. Your opportunity… comes in time.”
A distant palace bell tolled, marking the start of the new year.