After three rounds of wine, the awkward distance between them had eased considerably. While intimacy had yet to bloom, at least conversation flowed more freely.
Ji Gang removed the collar around his neck and sipped his wine. Zuo Qianqiu, noticing the burn marks on Ji Gang’s nape, couldn’t help asking, “When the Biansha cavalry invaded Duanzhou… how did you end up like this?”
Ji Gang swirled his cup and let out a dry laugh. “Shen Wei retreated fast; Duanzhou didn’t hold for even a day. The Biansha cavalry’s horses were too swift. My legs weren’t what they used to be. How could I have escaped? I had already made peace with death back then.”
At this, he remembered Hua Pingting and choked on the memory, turning away to rub his face, unwilling to continue.
Zuo Qianqiu downed his cup and said, “Shen Wei… should have died!”
“But it’s not just Shen Wei who deserves it,” Ji Gang said bitterly. “The defeat at Zhongbo was so suspicious, yet everyone pinned it on Shen Wei alone. They counted on him not surviving.”
Zuo Qianqiu asked, “You’ve been away from Qu City for a long time. How can you be so sure Shen Wei was made the scapegoat?”
“Five years ago, when Chuan’er entered the capital, someone tried to assassinate people in the imperial prison,” Ji Gang said. “Shen Wei had already died, yet someone wanted to cut off every loose end. Why? To silence him.”
Zuo Qianqiu drank in silence. After a moment, he said, “Now everyone’s dead. If you want to thoroughly investigate Zhongbo’s defeat, it won’t be easy. Your disciple… does he seek revenge for Shen Wei?”
Ji Gang’s wine was taking effect. He had been abstinent for five years, but tonight, for Zuo Qianqiu, he had broken his vow. Supporting himself on the table, he sneered coldly:
“Revenge? Why would Chuan’er seek revenge for Shen Wei? Zuo Qianqiu, you are just as narrow-minded as the rest! Does everyone surnamed Shen deserve to die? Chuan’er has grown up; he understands reason, he knows right from wrong. His connection to Shen Wei is accidental—they share nothing but blood. Forcing him into this, for what? Shen Wei is already dead! The so-called Zhongbo blood feud—shouldn’t it be the Biansha cavalry who pay the price?”
With that, Ji Gang smashed his cup against the table, chest heaving.
“Investigating Zhongbo’s defeat isn’t about revenge. It’s about understanding why one man suffered such a fate. You are a general yourself—don’t you see? Five years ago, someone orchestrated Zhongbo’s defeat; five years later, the same forces can cause another defeat elsewhere. When the Biansha cavalry pursued relentlessly, without insiders or maps—could they have done it on their own?!”
Zuo Qianqiu sighed. “Ji Gang, calm down. When we reached Zhongbo that year, the first thing we did was cut off the main route to Dancheng to trace the source of Biansha’s intelligence. But the situation was dire. You know how impossible it was. Every piece of evidence pointed to Shen Wei. Yet he burned himself alive, leaving only an unremarkable illegitimate son. How could anyone not be suspicious?”
Ji Gang fell silent for a moment. “Your disciple nearly killed him with that kick.”
Zuo Qianqiu emptied another cup. “I won’t argue, but hear me out. Ji Gang, we each have our experiences, our aims.”
Ji Gang sneered. “Oh, so talking it over makes everything okay?”
Without another word, Zuo Qianqiu flipped his empty cup and called out the door: “Aye, Ye!”
The door immediately swung open. Zuo Qianqiu poured wine with one hand and tossed the cup with the other. “Apologize to your master and senior brother!”
Ji Gang crossed his chopsticks and balanced the cup on the tip. “We were simply outmatched back then. Chuan’er, this cup is for you!”
The cup spun toward Shen Zechuan. Xiao Chiye intercepted midair. “Lanzhou, don’t fight with your senior brother, hmm?”
Shen Zechuan nudged Xiao Chiye’s arm with his foot. The cup wobbled, then fell. “Orders are orders, senior brother. Step aside.”
Their palms brushed as Xiao Chiye countered. The cup almost hit the floor, but Shen Zechuan lifted it with his foot again.
The two moved with a whisper of wind; the cup rose and fell without spilling a drop.
Ji Gang took a few bites of cold vegetables, commenting, “These movements aren’t from the Ji family style.”
Zuo Qianqiu watched. “That’s Xiao’s technique. Like a raptor grasping prey—once caught, escape is near impossible. Lanzhou, attack his lower body to unsettle him.”
Shen Zechuan withdrew his hand, took a step back, and suddenly kicked. Xiao Chiye dodged slightly, intending to speak, but in front of their masters, he held his tongue. He grabbed Shen Zechuan’s ankle mid-block, guiding him subtly closer.
“That was ruthless,” Xiao Chiye said calmly. “I had no chance to defend.”
Shen Zechuan stumbled, trying to catch the cup. Xiao Chiye waited until he had it, then struck a punch straight at his face.
“Ji family style!” Ji Gang exclaimed, lowering his chopsticks. “…No wonder Chuan’er praises him.”
The body was perfect—Ji Gang could find no flaw in that strike.
Shen Zechuan cradled the cup, unable to meet the blow head-on. He leaned back; the punch brushed his temple. Xiao Chiye stepped closer, letting the strike slide down Shen Zechuan’s collar, dislodging a half-wilted plum he had bitten earlier.
“Got it,” Xiao Chiye’s eyes sparkled mischievously. He popped the half-plum into his mouth. As Shen Zechuan tried to rise, he blocked him, warning sharply, “Wine spilled!”
Shen Zechuan froze, looking up. Xiao Chiye pressed his hand to Shen Zechuan’s, sliding his thumb along the inner wrist, and, using the leverage, drank the cup in one gulp.
“Thanks for the taste, junior brother,” Xiao Chiye said, stepping back with gentlemanly courtesy. “Quite aromatic.”
Shen Zechuan’s wrist still burned from the contact. He rose, flicked his sleeve, bowed, and returned the cup to the table.
Ji Gang, unaware of the subtle undercurrents between them, remarked, “Blending styles is difficult. Well taught.”
Zuo Qianqiu added, “He’s still far from perfect. Lanzhou focuses on Ji family methods; his discipline is impressive.”
They poured more wine. Xiao Chiye and Shen Zechuan retreated outside.
Once the door closed, Xiao Chiye pulled Shen Zechuan in. “Too cold outside. Let’s sit in the study—wine won’t finish tonight anyway.”
Through the northern corridor lay the Yao family’s former study, equipped with drainage to keep the books dry. The shelves still held antiques and calligraphy.
Xiao Chiye removed his cloak, perched at the desk, flipping through books. “The yard was built by Old Master Yao. He collected many treasures. Yao Wenyu didn’t care for them much, so they’ve remained untouched.”
Shen Zechuan cleaned his hands before touching the books.
The Yao family had classified and neatly arranged their collection. Even after all these years, the pages remained pristine—Xiao Chiye had clearly cared for them.
They sat apart, silent.
Shen Zechuan noticed a tome on wild geese. Opening it, he found a map of Hongyan Mountain.
Hongyan Mountain split into eastern and western ranges. The western range connected Luoxia Pass to Quancheng, isolating Huaizhou—a former border defense line of the Great Zhou. Later, Xiao Fangxu expanded the territory eastward, forming the present shape of the Northern Li territories.
Shen Zechuan flipped further, seeing details of the northeastern grain-and-horse routes.
Qu City dispatched grain from across the realm, mostly from Qinzhou in the west. To reach the north and east, where waterways were impassable, special grain-and-horse routes were dug. Qi East was complicated, but the northeastern route from Li Bei was clear. Grain moved from Qinzhou to Guan Yi Port, then to Qu City, and from there via the northeastern route to Li Bei’s main territories.
The northeastern route was a critical supply line, guarded layer by layer by Li Bei cavalry. Even the emperor himself could not pass without Xiao Jiming’s transit token. Despite border battles, the route remained impregnable; Biansha cavalry never approached it.
Indeed, five years ago, Xiao Jiming’s rapid southern deployment was possible because the northeastern route lay northwest of Cizhou, allowing immediate troop movements.
“Eastern supply route,” Xiao Chiye said, coming closer. Following Shen Zechuan’s hand across the map, he asked, “Interested in military strategy?”
“No,” Shen Zechuan said without hesitation.
“No matter. Second Master will teach you.” Xiao Chiye guided Shen Zechuan’s hand to the far eastern Cha Shi River. “Recognize this? Cha Shi is Duanzhou’s easternmost defense. Beyond it lies the Biansha Desert. Interestingly, Biansha historically struck only the border counties.”
Shen Zechuan traced the southeast corner near Tianfei Que—the desert-adjacent gap in Great Zhou defenses.
“The border county is unique,” Xiao Chiye said, leaning closer. “Blocked north by Tianfei Que, south by Suotian Pass. Only here can the enemy breach. The Lu family guards it. You know Lu Guangbai’s title? ‘Beacon Fires Against the Sands’—because they man the desert signal towers. Biansha cavalry favors night raids, and Lu’s troops excel at ambushes.”
Xiao Chiye, clearly enjoying this, pressed Shen Zechuan’s finger against the border county on the map.
“Among the four top generals, my master excels in defense. Tianfei Que doesn’t require offensive maneuvers. Don’t underestimate the border county—Lu Guangbai specializes in attrition warfare, surpassing even Big Brother and Commander Qi.”
“No cavalry there?” Shen Zechuan glanced sideways.
Xiao Chiye smiled. “He doesn’t need it. His troops counter cavalry perfectly. Generations of Lu family have lived in the desert—poor soil, no crops, can’t afford horses. But war still comes. From this hardship, they devised formations to resist cavalry.”
“Interesting,” Shen Zechuan said, returning to the map. “So the Biansha cavalry’s assault on Cha Shi five years ago was unusual?”
“Exactly.” Xiao Chiye absently twisted his fingers, then pinched Shen Zechuan’s. “First, know this: the Biansha Twelve Tribes is a collective term. Initially, there were more than twelve. Huayan Tribe, trading with Li Bei, had been driven from fertile lands by others, joining Great Zhou to survive. The Twelve Tribes varied in strength, had no single ruler, so talks failed—they had to fight. Each battle was costly to them. The north’s Fierce Horse Tribe opposed Li Bei cavalry; the south’s Fast Snake Tribe attacked border county troops. These patterns formed over long conflict. Yet five years ago, both tribes converged centrally without coordination and struck Cha Shi directly.”
Xiao Chiye paused.
“This only has one explanation.”
“They were confident,” Shen Zechuan said, “certain Zhongbo couldn’t hold, Li Bei and border counties couldn’t help.”
“Thus the rumors of Shen Wei’s treason,” Xiao Chiye said. “A full-speed assault is risky. Fighting in unfamiliar terrain is tough. Biansha troops excel in desert maneuvers; street fighting hampers them. The closer to Qu City, the clearer their intentions.”
“Taking Qu City isn’t wise—it’s the heart of Great Zhou. Stay too long and Li Bei cavalry, Qi East’s five counties, and the Eight Camps would surround them,” Shen Zechuan said. “I never thought the Biansha cavalry intended to strike here.”
“You’re sharp.” Xiao Chiye guided Shen Zechuan’s hand across the map to far-west Juèxi. “I think they aimed here. Juèxi borders the sea, has two ports, three major grain reserves. Li Bei, Qu City, and Qi East’s troops all rely on it. Entering Juèxi alone, they could strangle three regions’ supplies without capturing cities.”
“Without insiders, that’s a fantasy,” Shen Zechuan mused.
“Zhongbo to Juèxi is a straight line—shortest route. Shen Wei opened the door, giving them courage and provisions. Without the northeastern route, Big Brother would’ve been seven days slower. Seven days—if the Eight Camps failed, Biansha cavalry would reach Guan Yi Port.” Xiao Chiye said, “This is one reason Li Bei was furious. Defeat is forgivable; betrayal is not.”
Shen Zechuan turned suddenly, eyes locked with Xiao Chiye.
“What’s wrong?” Xiao Chiye didn’t release him.
“Shen Wei’s treachery…” Shen Zechuan’s smile was odd. “…Shen Wei gave them the Juèxi military map?”
“The Ministry of War had it,” Xiao Chiye said. “Gold moves all things; a bribe buys maps.”
“In that case,” Shen Zechuan said, “it need not be Shen Wei. Anyone else could have done it.”