Huhelu was reputed within the Long Eagle Tribe as the most likely candidate to rise under Osohe and Ri. Though cruel by nature, he was an exceptionally capable general. His troops were composed of the elite cavalry from the Biansha divisions, and while these soldiers feared him, they held no respect beyond that—and it was precisely this fear that made them so stunned at the moment.
In just a few moments, Huhelu was unseated, and with him fell the morale of the Biansha cavalry. Huhelu hastily assumed that a countless number of Libei reinforcements lay in wait behind him, which extinguished any remaining will of his troops to fight. They scattered around Xiao Chiye as the center of the chaos.
Countless torches formed a long line, advancing from behind as if bringing with them an entire army.
Inside Sand Camp Three, there were still the surprise-strike troops of Gu Jin. Bayin, trapped both inside and out, saw Xiao Chiye calm and collected and assumed that he, too, commanded Libei’s main forces. Crucially, from Bayin’s vantage point, the dark shadows beyond the torches could not be clearly seen; as the grasslands stretched out, they seemed to extend all the way to the horizon.
Not wanting to repeat past mistakes, Bayin reined in his horse and ordered a retreat from the camp. The Biansha cavalry withdrew hastily, unable even to retrieve Huhelu’s body, vanishing into the night. Xiao Chiye held his position as Dan Taihu led men in shouting and feints for a few miles, but when Bayin dared not look back, they quickly pulled back to Sand Camp Three.
By the time Bayin turned again, all he could see were the continuing lines of torches.
Had Bayin looked more closely or calmed himself, he would have seen holes in the night’s ambush. Huhelu was formidable, but as he himself said, he excelled at field battles; commanding him to defend a camp was a misuse of his strengths. If he had followed Bayin’s advice, staying inside Sand Camp Three and dealing with the small band of Libei troops Gu Jin had brought, he would have had the upper hand. The camp’s walls were impenetrable; without siege engines, Xiao Chiye could not have launched a direct assault. But Huhelu, intoxicated by a string of victories since early spring, lost his caution, was easily deceived, saw Gu Jin climbing the walls and assumed a Bianbo ambush, saw countless torches and thought they were Libei reinforcements, and at last, when he encountered Xiao Chiye, he was completely disoriented and lost without a fight.
Xiao Chiye picked up Huhelu’s head, examining the bearded, rough face for a moment, but could not recall who he was. He handed the head to Dan Taihu, who refused it, so Xiao Chiye passed it to Gu Jin, saying, “Clear out the bodies inside the camp. Bury Libei soldiers nearby, Biansha soldiers farther away. It’s hot; the corpses will decompose quickly—avoid spreading disease.”
Gu Jin took the head and recognized it as Huhelu. He had not expected Xiao Chiye to kill him with just a glance. Guo Weili had fought this man for half a lifetime, yet this one night erased him entirely.
Xiao Chiye sheathed his Wolf Fang Blade and asked, “Do you recognize him?”
Gu Jin said, “This is Huhelu, master. He was the one who defeated Guo Weili in the north and captured Tudalong Banner.”
Xiao Chiye had been running for two nights straight and had other matters to attend to. He merely nodded to indicate he understood and sent Gu Jin to handle the tasks. He called Dan Taihu, threw him the blade to hold, and they moved further into the camp.
“This camp is huge,” Dan Taihu said, surveying the area, “The walls are almost as well-built as a proper city. Large bows are mounted on the battlements, and horse traps are set below, ready to strike at any distance.”
“My elder brother spent a lot here,” Xiao Chiye said, looking at the walls. “Memorize all the fortifications. If there’s anything you don’t understand, ask Chen Yang or Gu Jin. Tomorrow I’ll have the engineers provide a layout of the camp. You’ll need to know it by heart.”
Dan Taihu quickly acknowledged. Any observant person would know that Xiao Chiye intended to elevate him; ever since leaving Qu Du, Xiao Chiye had included Dan Taihu in every battle. Despite Dan Taihu’s limited literacy, he made an effort to learn from Chen Yang to repay this favor.
Xiao Chiye was hurrying to meet the engineers. He made it clear to Wu Ziyu that the camp would not be returned; he intended to keep it. The location was ideal for both defense and offense: it could cover Bianbo Camp, support Xiao Fangxu in the north, and connect to the northeastern supply routes to the west. Anyone who asked for it would have to negotiate with him personally.
When Xiao Chiye finally rested, it was nearly dawn. He curled up in his tent for a few hours, undisturbed even when Chen Yang arrived from Bianbo Camp. By sunset, he awoke, washed outside his tent, and listened as Meng returned.
Xiao Chiye tied his arm wrap and blew his whistle. Meng circled briefly before landing on his arm. Xiao Chiye took out a prepared strip of meat and fed him. In the pause, he noticed the large walnut on Meng’s leg.
“Prince, all is well,” Chen Yang said with a smile, “Reporting to the master.”
Xiao Chiye, however, was not amused. He unfastened the walnut, squeezed it briefly, and tossed it to Chen Yang, saying, “Old man specifically returned Meng to relay orders. Open it and read it to me—he’s quite cunning.”
Chen Yang unfolded the walnut and spread the paper.
Xiao Fangxu’s handwriting was wild, noting that he had anticipated Osohe sending forces to bypass the southeast camp but had not prepared for it in advance. He also mentioned that Meng may have secretly attacked Yu, being too aggressive, much like Xiao Chiye himself. Finally, he instructed Xiao Chiye to stay put and not act rashly.
Xiao Chiye flipped past the lengthy formal sections and pointed to the concise instructions at the end.
Chen Yang cleared his throat and read steadily: “No one knows you better than your father. The letter arrives late. Since it’s certain you will attack Sand Camp Three, act as escort for Wu Ziyu… serve as a logistics general.”
Silence fell.
Dan Taihu could not understand Xiao Fangxu. In his expectations, even if the Libei king did not praise Xiao Chiye, he should have been sent to the front lines to earn merit. In the current Libei situation, assigning Xiao Chiye to handle logistics was like tamping down his sharp edge, keeping him hidden for another nine years.
Xiao Chiye pressed his lips tight and, after a long moment of silence, turned to the setting sun again.
A few days later, a caravan departed from Cizhou, heading south along the official road to Chazhou. Kong Ling was disguised as the steward, the embroidered uniform guards as wealthy attendants, and Shen Zechuan, claiming illness, stayed mostly inside the carriage.
With travel permits issued by Cizhou, Kong Ling avoided much trouble. These days, anyone holding proper government documents commanded respect, and the large escort discouraged ordinary bandits from attempting robbery, fearing the wrath of the local authorities.
Once outside Cizhou, beggars appeared more frequently. Children barely old enough to speak took to trickery to survive, spinning wild tales of spirits and demons to extract coins from passing merchants.
The first few days were fine, but then heavy rain turned the weather cold. Shen Zechuan fell ill. The road was full of cheats; even finding a doctor was risky, as they could not be allowed near Shen Zechuan. Fortunately, his illness was mild—a fever lasting two days, then slowly abating.
Shen Zechuan now spent more time leaning over his work, making mistakes in his martial practice inevitable. After sending off Qi Huilian, he often felt physically strained, especially with the seasonal changes. This had been foreshadowed even back in Qu Du; if he said he was ill, he was ill.
The carriage rumbled through the mud and finally reached Chazhou in the rain.
Luo Mu, governor of Chazhou, was in his concubine’s chamber when Kong Ling presented his card. He turned it over and over, scrutinizing it without moving. His fourteenth concubine, newly taken and recently favored, withdrew the card from Luo Mu’s hands. Recognizing a few characters, she asked, “Who is this Kong Ling?”
Luo Mu held her on his lap. “Kong Ling? A poor scholar. Years ago he followed Commander Dan Tai Long of the Dunzhou garrison. After Dan Tai Long died, he joined Zhou Gui.”
The concubine giggled at Luo Mu’s beard brushing her, as if afraid of catching the air of poverty. She twirled the card and said, “Then how does he know the master?”
Luo Mu smirked self-deprecatingly. “We share the same teacher.”
“I’ll entertain him properly then,” she said, teasing about inviting her brother, one of Chazhou’s local bandits, to display some Cizhou authority. She spoke of recent Libei grain shipments and the wealth involved.
Luo Mu remained silent. “Why waste money? A few buns can handle him. He’s likely just here to borrow money; I won’t see him.”
The concubine pouted, tapping the card with her embroidered shoes until Luo Mu’s expression turned cold. “Move aside!”
She froze, stepping back. Luo Mu picked up the card, which bore the shoe marks, and, maintaining a stern face, said, “I’ll deal with this when we go to Cizhou. For now, ignore it.” He left immediately, opening the rain-soaked door. “Are they still there? Bring them to the main hall. I will see them myself.”
By the time Luo Mu reached the main hall, Kong Ling had been waiting. He rose to greet Luo Mu, and they exchanged pleasantries before turning to business.
“I am here at your behest,” Kong Ling said over tea. “Cizhou has gradually recovered in recent years. The fields yield well, and grain is ample, but the population is low. Leftover grain stored for a year is wasted—chewed by rats or spoiled.”
Luo Mu listened attentively. Kong Ling’s appearance was healthy, with little gray hair.
Kong Ling smiled again. “Thus, we propose that Chazhou, which has been buying grain at high prices from Hezhou and Juexi, instead source from us in Cizhou. We can offer lower prices. What say you?”
Luo Mu considered him, seeing the wrinkles around Kong Ling’s eyes. “I roughly understand. A good proposal, but impossible to execute.” He raised a hand to stop Kong Ling from speaking further.
“Chazhou isn’t Cizhou. Zhou Gui might act boldly, but how much of that relies on his father-in-law? It was only because Lord Liu decisively suppressed bandits years ago that Cizhou is safe today. Chazhou cannot manage the same way.”
Kong Ling fell silent, acknowledging the reasoning. After a moment, he asked, “No chance at all?”
Luo Mu’s face turned as he answered, “Who accompanied you? You entered with Cizhou documents and delivered your card, revealing your movements. I advise caution. Wait a few days, then return to Cizhou.”
They had not met for many years. Strangely, no matter how much Kong Ling had aged, Luo Mu still remembered his student appearance vividly. Rain from the eaves soaked Luo Mu’s shoulders as he stood there for a long time.
Kong Ling had missed many opportunities in life. He could not see Luo Mu’s face against the light, but said, “This mission is crucial. If not today, I will return tomorrow. Dream-zheng, I am confident, if you just speak with us.”
Luo Mu was silent for a long moment. “The grain in Chazhou is purchased at high prices from Juexi and Hezhou. Bandit leaders profit from it. Asking me to buy from Cizhou cuts off their revenue. This deal cannot happen. Be gone.”
Luo Mu had his attendants show Kong Ling out, then paused at the threshold, looked back once, and remained in the rain, remembering him as he was so many years ago.
Later, Shen Zechuan took his medicine and listened to Qiao Tianya’s report of their conversation. He looked at Qiao Tianya and said, “They have a long-standing bond, unlike others. In your opinion, master, how should this deal be approached? Luo Mu is interesting; though Chazhou is chaotic, he has remained steadfast—the authority of the prefecture.”
“Negotiate as needed,” Shen Zechuan replied, his nose stuffy, his voice muffled. “If he’s steadfast, he is willing. Today’s words are formalities, not necessarily sincere. Find a way to meet him discreetly; I want to speak with him in person.”