The emerald blade of the Xuanwu Blade shimmered in the moonlight. It did not look sharp; instead, it glowed with a dreamy, gentle softness. Yet, when it moved with murderous intent, a rustling chill seemed to permeate the air.
Ying Hui’s longsword flickered unsteadily within that autumn-water glow of my blade. Though his swordsmanship was exquisite, he was, after all, injured. Within thirty moves, a flaw appeared in his technique. My blade swiftly wound around his sword’s length, and I delivered a flying kick to his chest. His longsword fell a dozen feet away with a sharp *clang*. He stumbled back several steps, his head lolling to the side as he spat out a mouthful of blood.
I did not hesitate further and lunged forward.
Ying Hui looked directly at me, his lips suddenly curling into a strange, eerie arc. He raised his hand, and a dark object flew toward my face. Mid-air, I could only twist my body violently to dodge the projectile. In that split second, Ying Hui threw himself over the edge of the pavilion.
Beside me, Feng Tong moved like a bolt of lightning. With a sharp *rip*, he only managed to snag a piece of a sleeve. In the blink of an eye, Ying Hui’s body fell like a withered leaf in the autumn wind, vanishing into the boundless darkness below.
“Drop the ropes!” Feng Tong barked at the soldiers nearby, casting aside the scrap of fabric. “He’s heavily wounded; he won’t get far!”
The cavalrymen carried ropes on their saddles. They quickly tied them together and lowered them down the cliffside.
Feng Tong dropped a quick sentence—“Stay here on the cliff”—before sliding down the rope with practiced ease. Following him, a dozen men from Feng Pu’s squad climbed down into the valley one after another.
Standing at the edge, I turned to look at the projectile Ying Hui had thrown. I picked it up with the tip of my blade. It was a stuffed dog made of yellow fleece. It was fuzzy, with two cloth buttons for eyes that stared back at me with a simple, charming expression, and a yarn ball tied to its tail. Suddenly, I remembered the image of Little Hero being held steady as he rode the great black horse through the market...
As it turned out, what this blade had cleaved through was still my own past.
I paced the cliffside, blade in hand, a faint irritability rising in my chest.
It wasn't until the sky began to pale and a misty fog rose from the valley that Feng Tong’s black-clad figure drifted back up the rope. His brow was slightly furrowed, his expression cold. Seeing me approach with an anxious face, he only shook his head grimly.
“There were bloodstains, but no body,” he said, his eyes dark as he gazed at the thickening morning mist. Clouds swirled outside the pavilion; the bottom of the valley was no longer visible.
“Since he has made himself your enemy, why do you still cling to old sentiments?” Feng Tong turned to me, his brow tightening. “If you don’t kill him, you can only wait for him to kill you. Why can’t you understand that?” When he was angry, his eyes darkened, and in the morning light, his emerald pupils seemed to shimmer like rippling water.
“I didn’t hold back.” I truly hadn't. But saying it aloud, I felt a pang of guilt.
“To hold the Northern Six Prefectures, you cannot afford such womanly mercy.” Feng Tong clearly didn't believe me. “What right do you have to pity others? When a vicious wolf heals its wounds, it will not hesitate to turn back and bite you!” Having said his piece, Feng Tong turned and headed down the mountain without another word.
I wanted to call out to him, but he walked so quickly he clearly had no intention of waiting for me.
I looked down at the stuffed dog in my hand. It wore a silly grin, its button eyes seemingly mocking me.
*Is it truly just womanly mercy?* I asked myself softly.
The soldiers who had gone down returned to the cliff one by one. After a night of hard labor, everyone looked exhausted. The squad leader coiled the ropes and looked at me.
I should have said something comforting, but facing their weary faces, my heart felt blocked by heavy clouds. In the end, I simply waved my hand. “Descend the mountain.”
Upon seeing me, Feng Pu’s calm face showed a flicker of inquiry, but he asked nothing.
I had intended to ask which direction Feng Tong had gone, but the words died on my tongue. Having lived in peace for too long, I had almost forgotten that his temperament was originally quite stubborn.
I let out a long sigh. Feng Tong had warned me the last time I let Ying Hui go. It seemed this time he was truly exasperated by my lack of resolve. Should I leave him be as I used to and wait for him to come around? Or should I go coax him, just as he always coaxed me?
After all, this wasn't just a private matter between us. Though the soldiers who searched the valley didn't voice their dissatisfaction, they might have been grumbling in their hearts. This thought caused a spark of frustration to flare up within me.
“The identity of the assassin in the dungeon has been confirmed.” Feng Pu sat bolt upright on his horse, his tone as steady as ever. “He is Li Rong, the youngest son of Li Changfa from Li Family Village in Fengdu. He is twenty-one. In the seventeenth year of Tianmang, he earned the rank of Xiucai. His family hired tutors; he knows some martial arts and uses a sword.”
“Back to the city,” I said, pulling my scattered thoughts together. “Interrogate Li Rong!”
***
Feng Tong had not returned to the government office. Where could he have gone?
I picked up a teacup and immediately set it back down. The tea had just been served and was scalding hot. The stinging heat on my fingertips seemed to amplify the agitation in my heart. I looked up, only to meet Feng Pu’s contemplative gaze.
The heavy doors creaked open. I sat up straight, clearing the clutter from my mind.
Li Rong looked younger than I had imagined. His night-traveler’s suit was stained with blood. He wasn't tall, and his fair, elongated face held a pair of dull, amber eyes. His gaze swept over our faces, appearing quite composed. He looked at the chair in the center of the hall and sat down without a word.
“Li Rong?” I tapped my fingers lightly on the table, asking with a hint of impatience, “How do you know Ying Hui?”
Hearing me call his name, his shoulders gave a slight jerk. He looked up and shot me a quick glance, but then pressed his lips thin, suppressing his surprise. His slender hands were twisted together, a picture of one resigned to fate.
I gave a cold laugh. “You don't have to speak. I’ll just have someone bring Old Man Li here.”
“You!” He snapped his head up, his fair face twisting until it looked almost ghoulish. Just as he tried to leap up, the guard behind him struck his shoulder with a palm. His body swayed, and he fell back into the chair.
“It’s better if you talk,” I said. “Even if you don't, we already know about Baiyun Temple.”
At the mention of "Baiyun Temple," his eyes twitched again.
In truth, regarding whether Baiyun Temple was connected to the Restoration Society, Ming Yue had only reported that the people coming and going were suspicious; there was no concrete evidence. Li Rong’s reaction, however, practically confirmed our suspicions.
“Ying Hui came to find you, didn't he?” I signaled the guard to bring him a cup of hot tea, softening my own voice. “Why follow him and take such a risk? Your family has land and a manor; why not look after your own estate...”
The teacup was slammed onto the smooth oil-brick floor with a *shatter*, the fine porcelain instantly splintering into shards of pale green and milky white.
“Estate?” Li Rong struggled violently, but was held down by the guards. His back was pressed against the chair, unable to move, but his eyes were feral, as if he wanted to tear me apart. “Our land, accumulated through the hard work of generations—wasn't it all stripped away by you bandits?!”
I had actually scalded my mouth with the hot tea. In front of a room full of people, I couldn't spit it out, so I had to force myself to swallow. For a moment, my insides felt like they were on fire, and my words came out with a bit of heat: “Bandits? You are a man of letters; do you have no sense of reason? We did take your family’s land, but we compensated your father in silver at market value. Did you not see the land deeds? Did we not leave you the manor and enough land to live on? How can you say it was stripped away?!”
If I hadn't spent silver to compensate these great landowners, the money in the treasury wouldn't have vanished so quickly. Originally, I had been full of heroic ambition, thinking of "overthrowing the local tyrants and distributing the land," but Jie Zijian had stopped me. The old man had clutched my sleeve and pleaded with me: “Xi Huo is currently confronting General Chu; the hearts of the people in the Northern Six Prefectures are unstable. You must not underestimate the power of these landowners. Stability first, stability first...” Looking back now, if I had truly just seized it, perhaps my popularity as the Lord of Dongyao would be even higher.
“My family has been farming for generations. The property in Li Family Village was built up by the sweat of my ancestors,” Li Rong panted against the back of the chair. “By what right do you use your power to force us to sell our land?!”
I slammed my teacup onto the table. “We forced you? Who forced whom? Calculate it yourself—after the tenant farmers of Li Family Village paid your family’s rent every year, was the grain they had left enough to even stay alive?!”
Li Rong choked on his words.
“Now this land belongs to Dongyao City,” I said, wiping the water from the back of my hand, emphasizing every word. “It has been distributed to the peasants based on the number of people. Whether it is the deed for the land we bought from you or the lease I gave to the farmers, everything is written clearly. If you are still dreaming of the day when all the land in Li Family Village belongs to your family alone, it is absolutely impossible.”
“You...” Li Rong began to shout, but the guard struck his shoulder again, forcing him back.
“Enough nonsense. What is the Restoration Society really about?” I ignored his murderous expression. Dealing with Ying Hui had exhausted my patience. “How many people? Who is the leader?”
Li Rong huffed and turned his face away.
A guard stepped forward and delivered a resounding slap to his face. Li Rong’s head snapped to the side, his fair cheek instantly turning a bruised purple.
Li Rong struggled to sit upright, his angry gaze bypassing the man who struck him and landing directly on my face. His lips moved as he spat out a curse: “Wicked woman!”
Feng Pu’s shoulders stiffened instantly. After a long silence, he cautiously glanced at me.
I only smiled indifferently. This scholar who had earned his rank was only at this level. Why is it that these self-proclaimed geniuses always fail to hit the mark when they curse? Calling me a “wicked woman” was truly disappointing to hear.
“Administrator Feng, you may take your time questioning him.” I stood up, my face showing my boredom. As I passed Li Rong, I couldn't help but offer a few words of advice: “Scholar Li, have you never heard the phrase ‘judge the hour and size up the situation’? Why must you die here for nothing?”
He stared at me, about to curse again, but I no longer had the interest to listen.
***
It was near noon, and the streets outside were at their liveliest. Across the high walls, the sounds of the bustling crowd reached my ears clearly.
My mood began to sink the moment I stepped out of the hall. This Li Rong—he hated me. Only because we distributed his family’s land. But was this hatred only because of the land? Besides the land, it was likely also the difference in status and wealth that the land provided. I had pulled him down and placed him on the same level as the tenant farmers who used to look up at him and call him “Young Master.” That was likely the true root of his hatred.
Li Rong couldn't be the only one harboring such thoughts. How many others were there? Besides the landlords, what about the merchants who were forced to donate silver? What about the scholars who considered themselves above the common fray? Did they all harbor a secret hatred like Li Rong?
I had not yet gained the recognition and support of one class, yet I had already offended another.
I looked up at the blue sky framed by the four high walls and let out a long sigh. “Jie Zijian, oh Jie Zijian, you knew I couldn't please everyone, so why did you stop me back then?!”
Feng Tong’s room was still empty.
I found an empty bottle, filled it with water, and pulled a few stalks of wild mountain elm from the flowerbed in the corner to put inside. The flowers of the mountain elm weren't large—pale pink and unremarkable—but the fuzzy, delicate leaves were quite pleasant to look at.
I pushed open the window, and the brilliant sunlight poured in. The tiny pink flowers were instantly coated in a soft, fine glow, making the whole room feel alive.
He still hadn't returned.
Where could he be? Would it be like last time, where months passed before he showed up again?
I leaned lazily over his desk. Having not slept all night, I drifted off before I knew it.
When I woke, the sunlight through the window was already slanting westward. The mountain elm was still swaying on the windowsill. There seemed to be someone moving in the courtyard outside. I rubbed my aching arms and poked my head out to look. A man in a black outer robe had his back to me, sleeves rolled up, hanging laundry.
His movements were incredibly clumsy. The clothesline wasn't even that high, yet the wet clothes in his hands kept twisting around it, and he couldn't seem to get them flat. He seemed frustrated by the wet fabric and gave the rope a hard shove. The wet garment swung out and then swung back; he dodged backward helplessly, nearly slipping on the wet patches on the ground.
I wanted to laugh, but the smile vanished before it could reach my face.
He looked truly foolish, having soaked his entire front just to wash two outer robes. But when had this young master, who grew up in the lap of luxury, ever washed his own clothes? In the past, the servants would have washed them and brought them to him, and he probably would have been picky about them.
A strange tenderness rose in my heart. I walked out, took the wet clothes from him, and carefully smoothed them out.
Feng Tong withdrew his hands, a look of slight embarrassment on his face, though he was clearly relieved.
“In the future, I’ll help you.” At the thought that this young master’s fall from grace was all my doing, my tone became uncharacteristically gentle. To my surprise, he shook his head twice and said nonchalantly, “No need. Everyone else washes their own.”
I thought to myself: *Can you be compared to everyone else?*
As if reading my mind, Feng Tong raised an eyebrow defiantly.
I didn't argue with him, but steered the conversation back to the problem that had been tormenting me all day: “You’re not angry anymore, are you?”
“It’s not a matter of whether I’m angry.” He interrupted me, his gaze becoming more serious than ever before. “What you must protect now is the entire Northern Six Prefectures—you can no longer act based on your own whims. A moment of soft-heartedness on your part might cost hundreds of lives in the future!”
I nodded. “I will keep your words firmly in mind.”
Feng Tong stared intently into my eyes. “Truly?”
I nodded again.
Feng Tong broke into a smile. Just as he was about to speak, the faint sound of gongs and drums drifted in from over the wall. As I wondered what it was, Feng Tong said with a smile, “Today is the Summer Festival.”
***
| Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation |
| :--- | :--- | :--- |
| 玄武刀 | Xuanwu Blade | Xi Xia's weapon; "Xuanwu" refers to the Black Tortoise of the North. |
| 妇人之仁 | Womanly mercy | Idiom meaning misplaced or short-sighted mercy/soft-heartedness. |
| 艳香楼 | Yanxiang Pavilion | A place of entertainment/brothel in Liangzhou. |
| 张大年 | Zhang Danian | President of the Liangzhou Chamber of Commerce. |
| 筑云峰 | Zhuyun Peak | A peak on Mount Qingliang; "Cloud-Building Peak." |
| 暗香亭 | Anxiang Pavilion | "Hidden Fragrance Pavilion," named for the plum blossoms nearby. |
| 李融 | Li Rong | A captured assassin, son of a landlord, and a scholar (Xiucai). |
| 妖妇 | Wicked woman | A derogatory term used by Li Rong against Xi Xia. |
| 夏节 | Summer Festival | A traditional festival mentioned at the end of the chapter. |
| 秀才 | Xiucai | A person who passed the entry-level imperial examination; a scholar. |
| 介子迁 | Jie Zijian | An advisor or official mentioned by Xi Xia. |
