The courtyard where Old Dog Du hid was spacious yet simple. There was only one building, which looked less like a schoolroom and more like a mountain hut for hunters to rest. The furnishings were sparse; aside from tables, chairs, and scrolls piled high on desks, there was nothing else. The wind seeped through the gaps in the bamboo blinds, lifting a dusty cloth curtain on the wall to reveal several portraits hanging beneath. The subjects, ranging from old to young, were all dressed in green robes and sat with solemn dignity. The fine silk of the paintings had yellowed and faded due to poor preservation, but the mounting craftsmanship was of the highest quality.
“Those are the portraits of the successive masters of the Qingzhong Mountain Academy, painted by the resident artists of the time. By hanging their portraits here, even this humble thatched hut becomes no different from an imperial classroom.” Gongzi Yan’s voice sounded from behind, exceptionally calm. “This land is no longer fit for living, yet the older generation refuses to leave, preferring to remain as trapped ghosts. But the children are innocent; they should have the right to choose.”
Thinking of the mountain folk she had encountered in the Min Mountains and the children playing kickball in the courtyard earlier, Qin Jiuye finally understood the origin of the strange legends those villagers spoke of.
A demon did indeed live in the bamboo forest, but he didn't "snatch" children to practice dark arts. He brought them into a schoolroom to read and write, preparing them to leave the mountains and see the world outside. Because of their identity as Juchao people, it would have been difficult for these children to seek an education elsewhere if not for Gongzi Yan. Yet, for a man as driven by profit and power as he was to spend such effort on something with almost no return—she would never have believed it if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes.
“There are thousands of scholars who can teach. Why did you keep him specifically? You wouldn't even lift a finger to save Old Tang; how am I supposed to believe you would save a half-mad, half-witted wandering beggar you’ve never even met?”
The early autumn morning wind was biting. The Young Master, who couldn't even handle a sip of cold water, stopped behind the window, gazing fixedly at every plant and tree in the courtyard.
“The Qingzhong Mountain Academy has existed for nearly a century. In that time, countless famous scholars and great masters have passed through, and tens of thousands of ordinary instructors. During my years at the academy, I dealt with thirteen of them. But despite my best efforts to search everywhere these past years, I only managed to recover these twelve portraits. Otherwise, you might have been able to see what he looked like in his prime.”
Qin Jiuye froze, and it took a long moment for the implication to sink in.
“You’re saying Old Dog Du is from the academy? You kept him here... surely not because you were afraid he’d leak your identity...”
Before she could finish her accusation, he interrupted softly.
“Do not call him that. His surname is Meng, and his given name is Ke. *Ke*—as flawless as white jade. Even if he falls into the mud, his noble essence does not change. He wasn't the most learned master in the academy, and he had some stubborn little quirks; he seemed somewhat useless. The instructors at the academy often punished students in the hall, and while he was nagging and strict with his words, his switch never actually landed on a student’s hand. It always hit the stone slab in front of him. Over time, a dent formed in the stone. When others asked where the dent came from, he said he had worn it down while dozing off. His colleagues laughed at his laziness, and he simply laughed along with them.”
“Youth is full of arrogance, and the youths of Qingzhong Mountain Academy were especially so. They looked down on a teacher like him. Every day they practiced the arts of factionalism and the methods of manipulating the winds of power. They bowed respectfully to his face but spoke with contempt behind his back. I was often the one they flocked around, and I felt it was harmless to chime in with a few words. After all, in my memory, he was just a name I couldn't quite place.”
Unlike when he spoke of Ding Miao the previous night, Gongzi Yan had now shed his cold, obsessive aura, becoming almost casual and peaceful. Perhaps this was the stillness of a dying man, or perhaps it was merely the calm before the final judgment of a life spent struggling.
The figure pieced together from these memories seemed somewhat foreign, yet upon closer inspection, it bore a similar silhouette to the Old Dog Du she knew—both shared the same air of being unappreciated by the world. But once she thought of Old Dog Du’s missing fingernail on his pinky and his frequent bouts of madness, Qin Jiuye found it impossible to believe that a man with such a past could fall to his current state.
“If you were truly his student, how could he not recognize you? Or... did you have some grievance or feud with him? Did you do something so terrible to him that he completely forgot the past, even forgot who he was?”
“I have many enemies, but only one benefactor. Unfortunately, the fate of being my benefactor is quite tragic.”
Having said this, Gongzi Yan pushed his wooden wheelchair toward a nearby desk. He picked up a half-ground inkstick with one hand and spread out a sheet of paper with the other.
“The academy was like a land of abundant rain, nourishing the ambitions of every youth. I had too many visions I wanted to realize, too many taboos I wanted to break. The imperial court could not contain my ambition, so I turned my gaze toward the martial world. In my second year at the Manor, I had already made a name for myself. Half of that register in Di Mo’s hands, filled with the secret scandals of the court, was written by me. Everyone in the martial world knew the prowess of the Shadow Envoy of the World’s Greatest Manor. Beneath the court, I was an undercurrent that everyone desired to be near yet feared being swept into. Wherever I went, people stood in ceremony for me. I was blinded by the beauty of power, thinking this was the reward my life deserved. Until seven years ago, when Heaven decided to use Ding Miao’s hand to collect the price for all of it.”
Li Qiao had fled the Manor seven years ago, in the spring of the second year after the new Emperor ascended the throne. Shortly after, Ding Miao was implicated and imprisoned in the tower. After enduring six months of suffering, he took his revenge on Gongzi Yan. Calculating the time, it would have been autumn, just like now. In that case...
The secret conversation she had overheard earlier at the shipyard with Qiu Ling and the others flashed before her eyes. Qin Jiuye looked up, realization dawning on her.
“So... you were the forty-fourth guest invited by the Nangong family.”
Late autumn, when the frost is heavy and the cold rises. At that time, Sun Yan had accepted the invitation of Nangong Ji, the Imperial Censor, to attend the autumn banquet at the Labyrinth Garden’s Water Pavilion. But that night, his illness struck for the first time. He slaughtered every guest in the courtyard and the entire Nangong household. Afterward, he was hunted by the combined forces of the World’s Greatest Manor and the imperial court.
“Nangong was four years older than me, but we were like peers, as close as brothers. Yet since I entered the Manor, we were always more apart than together. That was our first reunion in many years. I pushed aside many matters to attend that banquet. However...”
Gongzi Yan’s voice stopped abruptly. This was the first time today his speech had been interrupted by an emotional surge. After a long moment, he dipped his brush and began to write on the freshly laid paper. The slight sound of the brush tip scratching against the paper made his voice seem even more drained of strength, as if something had been vented out in this instant.
“Lord Duan Yu entrusted Cheng Yu to investigate this matter in secret. What he found might be clearer than my own memories. For a long time after leaving the Labyrinth Garden, I was a fugitive in a state of chaotic despair. I didn't know what was happening to my body, nor did I know the connections behind it all, until the first winter snow fell.”
“Heaven is so cruel, fond of using similar fates to punish the arrogant. Once, I led men to hunt down Subject Thirteen, driving him into a corner several times. Yet less than half a year later, I was the one with no way out. When Subject Thirteen was at the Manor, he had no kin and no one to rely on, yet he received help from Li Qingdao. I, who once had hundreds answer my call and lived in glory, was suddenly abandoned by all and reached the end of my road, worse off than a stray dog on the street. The more glory I had harvested in the first half of my life, the more hatred sprouted in my heart at that moment. At that time, I could never have imagined who would be the one willing to reach out a hand to me in my desperation.”
“By then, I was heavily wounded and at the end of my strength. In my desperation, I took a risky gamble. Thinking of the principle that the area beneath a lamp is the darkest, I doubled back to Ling Lake and used my last breath to sneak into the back mountains of Qingzhong Mountain overnight. I was from the academy and knew the secret paths there. Unexpectedly, I ran into my teacher, who was stargazing in the back mountains. When he saved me, I didn't even recognize his face at first. I first saw the lotus-patterned gauze of the academy he wore, then the copper carving knife hanging at his waist, and only then did I slowly remember such a person existed.”
The scene of Washing Bamboo Mountain in the heavy rain appeared before her eyes again. It was almost the same situation, the same plot. Qin Jiuye’s heart tightened, and she immediately pressed him.
“Did you threaten him? Or lie to him?”
“I knew Di Mo and my enemies at court would take this chance to eliminate me. I had no way out. Even if I felt uneasy, I had no choice. I simply pushed all the blame onto others, weeping that entering the Manor and becoming a butcher’s blade in another’s hand was not my intent. I claimed I had strayed by accident and was being hunted by the Manor because I wanted to leave after realizing my mistakes. After hearing this, he only asked me if I was truly determined to repent and start anew. At that time, I only wanted to live, so naturally, I put on another display of bitter tears. He didn't say another word. He just hid me in the hut in the back mountains, walking ten miles of mountain paths every day to bring me food and herbs, until the people from the World’s Greatest Manor and the government arrived together.”
Gongzi Yan’s brush paused. He looked at her with a faint, self-mocking smile.
“Now that I’ve said this, do you think he was a dull-witted fool who trusted people too easily?”
Qin Jiuye shook her head.
“Not everyone is like you, treating the extinction of conscience as intelligence and kindness and courage as stupidity.”
A raspy laugh sounded. The belly of the brush, saturated with ink, dripped a single drop onto the paper, blooming into a dark stain. The man holding the brush seemed entirely unaware.
“The day they came to the back mountains, I was hidden beneath the stone slab behind the hut. The stone couldn't block my ears; I could hear every one of their voices clearly, and I remember every word spoken.” Past memories surged in the narrator’s chest, causing him to let out a heavy, unwilling cough. “Behind the entire academy was half of the Xiangliang court in the capital, yet not a single person spoke a word for the Sun family at that time. The World’s Greatest Manor had countless experts, yet no one dared to resist a single word Di Mo said. But my teacher was just a scholar with no martial skills at all, yet he could refute those people line by line. He called them destroyers of benevolence and righteousness, saying they had the world on their lips but only themselves in their hearts, lacking even the most basic human conscience. He said they were merely using the blades in their hands to slaughter the weak and using hereditary power to crush dissent. He regretted working for the academy for over a decade; if he died today, he would consider it a repayment of that debt of karma.”
Having finished, as if exhaling the last bit of foul air from his lungs, Gongzi Yan slowly set down the brush. He reached out to stroke the ordinary yellow paper; the wet ink stained his fingertips and dried in an instant.
“My teacher only taught me painting for one year. Painting was not where my ambition lay, and he was not some imperial tutor with students all over the court. After I headstrongly entered the Manor, I didn't go back to visit him for seven whole years. In my youth, I had high aspirations and thought I had the most noble ambitions in the world. I sneered at the paintings, star charts, and folklore he taught. I didn't even properly bow to him when I was at the academy. But on the night he saved me, he said to a man over thirty whom he hadn't seen in seven years that I would always be his student, and it was only natural for a teacher to protect his student.”
His fingers tightened against the desk. His sunken eyes could not shed a single tear, but his voice grew increasingly raspy with a sob.
The last trace of light faded from the sky, and the world fell into a somber blue. The desolate autumn wind made the loose pages on the desk rustle loudly, weaving with the falling leaves into a mournful sound.
Qin Jiuye watched the figure in the wooden wheelchair silently, her heart feeling a deep sense of sorrow stirred by the sounds of autumn.
She hadn't witnessed the spirited, benevolent Meng Ke, but she had a master of her own.
Her master had taken her in for ten years just for a basket of eggs from Qin Sanyou, never hesitating to share everything she had seen, heard, learned, and felt until her final moment.
It wasn't just her master. Li Qingdao, who saved Li Qiao from a dark past without asking for anything in return, was the same. Zuo Ci, who spent his life’s learning to train Teng Hu, was the same.
She could no longer ask Old Dog Du if he regretted his decision. Nor did she want to berate the man before her, vowing to squeeze out a few drops of belated tears. But she couldn't help but care about the end of the story.
“And then? Did you ever go looking for him?”
“After he was taken away, I recovered from my wounds and left the back mountains. But I didn't dare show my face. I could only live like a mole cricket underground, away from the light. By the time I had a chance to return to Ling Lake, half a year had passed. The academy had a new batch of instructors. I carefully asked around and only learned that he hadn't been executed. He had simply gone mad. After hiding for a while, he vanished from Ling Lake, and no one saw him again.”
Gongzi Yan lowered his head. Even though his body was decayed and broken, the soul within still carried the memories of past nobility and arrogance, but now the weight of guilt and remorse had completely crushed him.
“My teacher, who spent his life being kind to others, ended up spending the latter half of his life like that. I have experienced everything the people in this courtyard have gone through. However, the pain of the Clear Wind Powder, the bitterness of the secret formula, and even the relentless pursuit day and night were not the hellish moments of my life. My hellish moment was the instant I reunited with my teacher.”
Li Qiao was embroiled in the secret formula case because of Gongzi Yan’s scheme. The half-man, half-ghost Gongzi Yan was a creation of Ding Miao’s hand. And Ding Miao’s tragedy was because of Subject Thirteen years ago. If everything was just a cycle of cause and effect, a just retribution, then what was Meng Ke? What evil had he done that required these years of painful torment to repay?
Qin Jiuye looked at the row of portraits with the missing gap. Old Dog Du’s perpetually dirty face appeared before her eyes again.
Because the portrait was missing, those who wanted to capture him for interrogation had no way to start. But because there wasn't even a single portrait, people's memories of him would eventually blur. Perhaps she would never know the grace of the Meng Ke of old, or whether that noble soul still resided within Old Dog Du’s body. He was like frost on a tile; only those who looked up to notice him one day would remember his appearance.
A missing portrait, a demented old friend—no one could prove that bond between master and student. But this time, she no longer questioned anything he said.
“Why are you telling me all this?”
“Didn't you say he was your friend?” Gongzi Yan looked up, the emotions of the past having fully receded. He had returned to being the unpredictable, inscrutable master of the hidden manor. “Friends should naturally be honest with each other. Moreover... if you are to take over this place, you should at least know my original intention for doing all this.”
Despite having had a thousand guesses, the moment she heard him state his intention so casually, Qin Jiuye couldn't help but take half a step back.
So this was his true intent behind calculating every step to draw her into this courtyard and recounting Old Dog Du’s past.
Gongzi Yan wanted her to be responsible for Old Dog Du and the entire Chuanliu Courtyard.
“I think you are truly quite ill...”
“Don't be in a hurry to refuse. If I have the confidence to ask you, I have the confidence that you will eventually agree.”
Qin Jiuye steadied herself, her hands hanging at her sides clenching into fists.
“You’re wrong. I have a hard enough time living my own life. I can't carry such a heavy burden, and I can't be some Bodhisattva saving people from suffering.”
“How many people in this world have truly seen a living Bodhisattva? They are all just ordinary people like you.” Gongzi Yan laughed, his voice containing a sharp, tragic clarity that saw through everything. “In the past decades, I have seen countless clever people, great heroes, and ambitious men. They might have extraordinary skills or brilliant talent, but when it comes to persistence, they aren't even as good as the night watchman who walks the streets every night. The things Chuanliu Courtyard needs to do—those so-called clever people couldn't even persist for a month. Because those who can achieve great righteousness in this world are all, to some degree, a bit foolishly persistent.”
*Foolishly persistent.*
Qin Jiuye didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
In the past, people only said she was made of the bones of a pauper and the flesh of a starving ghost. No one had ever used the words "foolishly persistent" to describe her, and for a moment, she couldn't tell if it was praise or slander.
“People seek profit and avoid harm. So-called 'foolish persistence' requires capital. My entire net worth is just a box of silver scraps and those two and a half broken rooms in the village. Aside from practicing medicine, I know nothing of the affairs of the martial world or the struggles of the court...”
“Exactly. To study the secret formula, deal with Ding Miao, and navigate between the martial world and official forces without being controlled by them—you cannot do it with the wisdom and ability of one person alone. That is the significance of Chuanliu Courtyard to you.” Having said this, he turned his wrist, and the paper with the fresh ink was lightly passed in front of Qin Jiuye. “I am handing over everything I have accumulated over the years to you. You may deploy the people on this list as you wish to fulfill our promise. 'A hundred rivers flow into the sea here.' I have kept them in my heart and never put them to paper. Once you have looked at it, burn this paper, and they will belong to you.”
Qin Jiuye looked at the paper, hesitating to reach out.
From the day she started doing business in Dingweng Village, the first thing she learned was: everything has a price. If you think you’re getting a bargain, you’ll have to pay it back one day.
“Perhaps you’ve misjudged me. I don't care about the things you mentioned. I only care about the silver I earn and the people around me...”
“If you truly didn't care about these things, why did you have Auntie Xiong change Teng Hu’s prescription and brew new medicine for the patients in the courtyard? If you truly didn't care, why did you specifically ask about the fate of the charcoal seller and his granddaughter when I told you about Ding Miao?”
Gongzi Yan lightly pointed out the window. The teacher whose mind wasn't quite right was no longer there, leaving only that dirty shoe beneath the tree and a dried cicada slough on the trunk.
“He is neither kin nor friend to you, just a stranger you briefly crossed paths with because of a case. If you really look into it, he even indirectly caused the death of your friend. But just now, when I stepped into the courtyard, why did you stand in front of him?”
Qin Jiuye didn't answer, but she knew her silence had given him the answer.
Gongzi Yan smiled, his hand pointing out the window dropping as he spoke with finality.
“You must be cursing my shamelessness in your heart, unwilling to be held in the palm of someone like me. But you cannot go against your own heart, just like my teacher back then. You are the next master of Chuanliu Courtyard.”
****** ****** ******
The long, narrow embankment of Yazui Shoal was like a fish-gutting knife slicing open the belly of the Min River, facing the endless sea of bamboo across the water.
At the end of the long dike, the young Protector in black stood in the wind. The scene of that woman walking into the depths of the bamboo forest flashed before his eyes.
He didn't know if she would find answers or more questions with Gongzi Yan. His previous suspicions had been fermenting in his heart day and night, making him increasingly restless. He had never encountered an opponent as sinister and cunning as Ding Miao, who was like a lingering mist in the deep mountains of Juchao—impossible to see through or touch. He must have missed something. Was it the Great Lu Brew sent to various martial sects by Di Mo’s hand, or those seven ships that had flanked Jiugao and been intercepted by him...
Faint footsteps approached from behind, lacking the caution typical of a martial artist and instead carrying a hint of laziness.
Qiu Ling turned and bowed first.
“Greetings, Master Tan.”
Tan Duce nodded, his gaze lingering on the other man for a moment.
In just a few days, both of the Qiu brothers had noticeably thinned. Their jade belts were a size too large, and their empty sleeves seemed to hold the lost souls of their owners as they moved. It was a strangely heart-wrenching sight.
“Didn't the Second Young Master send word through Miss Jiang this morning? Miss Qin is doing well at Chuanliu Courtyard. You should be at ease.”
Qiu Ling did not look toward the bamboo forest again. After a long silence, he said deeply, “I am here to monitor the movements of Chuanliu Courtyard, nothing else.”
Hearing those stubborn words, and thinking of the Second Young Master Qiu who refused to leave his room, Tan Duce couldn't help but sigh toward the sky, seemingly infected by the young man’s melancholy.
“Why are the youngsters these days all so duplicitous and insincere? If you ask me, Miss Qin has extraordinary courage. Someone with the mettle to enter the depths of Juchao wouldn't fear a mere Chuanliu Courtyard. Besides, if you were so worried, why didn't you just stop her from going in the first place?”
“Then why did Master Tan allow that person from Chuanliu Courtyard onto the ship?”
The question came unexpectedly. Tan Duce’s expression froze for a moment before he confirmed, “You mean Xiao Sa?”
Qiu Ling said nothing. Tan Duce clicked his tongue and continued.
“The waterways in the heart of Juchao are complex. Why would I refuse help from Chuanliu Courtyard? Besides, Gongzi Yan only sent him to follow the ship and deliver messages. I saw him put in his full effort when saving people earlier; it’s not hard to see he’s a good lad...”
*A good lad?*
Qiu Ling could hardly control the mockery on his face, suppressing it only with great effort.
“Going to Chuanliu Courtyard was her choice; I will not interfere. But that doesn't mean I can let down my guard against them.”
Tan Duce glanced at the expression on the man beside him and spoke as if to dispel a certain concern.
“You and I both hold official posts, but Miss Qin does not. Those people only need a slight official pretext to make a big fuss. In all of Yuzhou, Chuanliu Courtyard is the most heavily guarded martial location. Neither the World’s Greatest Manor nor the Prince of Xiaoning’s estate can easily come knocking. Furthermore...” His tone shifted here, becoming earnest. “...Just remember, the one in the bamboo forest is not your enemy.”
Tan Duce, the Pavilion Master of Minfeng, had a thoroughly sincere face. But before him was the unyielding Lord Duan Yu, who asked directly, “If something major is about to happen here, which side is Master Tan on?”
“If you don't trust me, why did you travel a thousand miles to come here?” Tan Duce showed no anger at being questioned to his face. “When Zhou Yaxian sent word to me over a month ago, I thought you would refuse him.”
This mere Pavilion Master, dressed in coarse hemp clothes, spoke the name of the powerful Imperial Supervisor of Yuzhou without the slightest hesitation, as if calling a common village name.
It wasn't surprising. After all, that iron-fisted Supervisor who now wielded great influence in the court was one of the few disciples of this "Black-faced Scholar." And besides Zhou Yaxian, his other disciples were all formidable figures. With such a group of students and grand-students, no matter how "unambitious" this Minfeng Pavilion Master appeared, no one in the court dared to act lightly against him, let alone bully him.
Because he had entered the academy late, Qiu Ling hadn't had much contact with Tan Duce. But he couldn't believe that a man who spent his days content with fishing, chopping wood, and simple meals could teach such a pack of tigers and wolves.
Perhaps there were reasons behind this that others could not see.
After a moment of silence, Qiu Ling did not answer the question directly but asked instead, “I agreed to Supervisor Zhou’s request to come. Does Master Tan find anything improper in that?”
Tan Duce shook his head, seemingly entirely unaware of the testing nature of the other man’s words. He said to himself, “Nothing improper. He is good at planning. Personally leading the crusade against the World’s Greatest Manor is indeed beneficial for you right now. It’s just that when you were sent to Kunxu, the hope was that your life could have another choice.”
What choice? The choice to travel the world with a sword, free and unfettered, hand-in-hand with the one he loved?
No, he never believed he had such a choice.
His silence was noted by Tan Duce, who pressed, “Since you don't like it, why did you agree?”
“Because I couldn't do it.”
He couldn't stand by and watch that woman disappear into the desolate mountains and treacherous waters, just like the Black Moon Army that had been swallowed up before. For that, he was willing to offer up his freedom—though he had never truly possessed much of it since birth.
The eldest son of the Qiu family appeared cold and unfeeling, but he was actually a romantic. What he had done for Miss Qin was far more than just that one thing.
Tan Duce shook his head and sighed, seemingly disliking this choice.
“Miss Qin shouldn't be the reason you make choices for yourself. Besides, if she knew you were doing all this for her, she might not necessarily be happy.”
“She won't know. Besides, I’m not doing this to make her feel grateful.” Qiu Ling’s tone suddenly became firm, and he turned to look at the man beside him as if confirming something, or perhaps demanding it. “Only Master Tan and I know of this. Is that not so?”
Tan Duce glanced at his expression but was in no hurry to give a promise.
“I’ve lived in these wild places for a long time, and those rules and constraints have faded. I’ve become someone who acts somewhat on instinct. While this brings trouble, sometimes it’s not a bad thing. Your father was burdened for half his life by the glory of a general’s house, so you learned from a young age to dance in shackles. But many times, even if you perform that skill to perfection, some things can only be done by taking the shackles off.”
The man beside him fell silent again. Whenever Black Moon and the past were mentioned, the vibrant colors that should belong to a young man would completely drain from him, leaving only a somber black.
Tan Duce couldn't help but mutter under his breath, “That old rogue Yuan—someone even the Heavens couldn't suppress—ended up taking a disciple like you who refuses to show his head. He must have suffered quite a few internal injuries over the years; no wonder he doesn't come out much anymore.”
Qiu Ling looked up. He didn't dare say he was the most outstanding disciple of Kunxu, but he was definitely the one his master worried about the least. However, before he could argue, his expression suddenly changed.
“Watch out!”
*Swoosh.*
The familiar whistle of an arrow cutting through the air shrieked past their ears. Qiu Ling whipped his head toward the river.
For a moment, he thought he had returned to the battlefield, that the horn for an enemy raid had sounded, and he needed to immediately plunge into the slaughter to end the spreading fires of war.
He instinctively reached for his chest, then realized he wasn't wearing armor. He drew his sword and looked toward the ship anchored behind them.
A silver-feathered arrow was stuck straight into the hull of the ship, the head buried over three inches deep into the wood—a testament to the weight of the bow and the speed of the arrow.
There were no more than ten generals and colonels in the Xiangliang army who were skilled with heavy bows, but none of them were qualified to use silver-feathered arrows.
Qiu Ling pulled the arrow out with a backhand motion and hurriedly excused himself to Tan Duce. In the next moment, he had dashed ten paces away.
The sound of water came from the river ahead. Lu Zican had already docked his fast boat and leaped onto the embankment, hurrying to Qiu Ling’s side.
“Protector, it’s the people from the Bureau of Gold and Stone...”
Before he could finish, an armored figure carrying a bow swept in from behind him. In the blink of an eye, she landed on the mast of the fast boat, sitting cross-legged as if perched in mid-air. Her slender fingers held a pot of tea she had snatched from somewhere, and she tilted her head back to drain it. Finally, she wiped her mouth with her sleeve and sighed sincerely.
“The humidity in the south is too heavy. I’ve worked so hard traveling all this way, yet my little Junior Brother refuses to come out and greet me. It makes me quite sad.”
Lu Zican was startled, but Qiu Ling’s expression remained unchanged. He had clearly expected this and gave a brief bow to the uninvited woman.
“Greetings, Remonstrator An.”
The sun had completely sunk beneath the water, and night spread across the riverbanks.
An attendant delivering lamp oil climbed the rope ladder onto the dredging ship. Familiar with the way, he went to the only cabin with a light, knocked on the door, and without waiting for a response, hummed a little tune and turned to leave.
Master Tan ate all three meals on the ship. Even when the ship was docked, he was too lazy to wander far. Over time, this cramped cabin had become his second "manor," filled with documents, letters, old clothes waiting to be mended, and even bowls and chopsticks from long-finished meals. An ordinary person stepping inside wouldn't even be able to find a barking dog, yet the master of this room knew exactly where a single needle was.
This was a habit formed over many years, not easily changed.
Except today...
Tan Duce casually removed the wooden pin holding his hair, scratched his messy, coarse hair, and then shuffled in his flattened cloth shoes to the desk. He refilled the lamp before the last bit of oil burned out, then carried the lamp to a camphor wood chest buried under a pile of scrolls in the corner.
He hadn't moved that chest in so long that he had almost forgotten where the key was and how to open it. He struggled for a long time, coughing in the dust, before finally prying it open.
A strong aroma of wine wafted out, making one’s nose twitch. Tan Duce didn't immediately check the fine vintages sealed for years; instead, he reached into the heavy wine jars and pulled out a Go stone container.
The container was covered in dust. A single breath sent him into another coughing fit, but he didn't care. He cradled the container in his arms, grabbed a jar of wine from the chest, and sat by the window.
The long-sealed container was opened, and the black and white stones clattered onto the table. Beneath the stones lay a yellowed silk painting.
It was a portrait, faintly depicting a thin, frail young man. The cap on his head seemed a bit too large, weighing down his neck and giving him a somewhat old-fashioned, weary look. The edges of the mounting were yellowed and curled, with old creases, clearly having been locked in the chest for a long time. It made one wonder: if the owner didn't cherish it, why keep it for so long?
“Don't blame me. There were too many people looking for you back then; I had to wrong you by letting you stay at the bottom of the chest for a while. But fortunately, we’ve finally made it to today. It’s time to let you out for some air.”
The wind blew through the room, and the curled corner of the portrait fluttered. The person in the painting remained silent and wrinkled.
Tan Duce smoothed the four corners of the portrait with his hands and used the scattered Go stones to weigh them down.
There was no game on the board, for the game resided in the heart.
*Observe the endgame to know the player’s skill.* The game that had begun to take shape twenty years ago was finally moving again. It wasn't unheard of to turn defeat into victory during the endgame. He had waited all these years, never making that move, just to wait for a moment to turn the tide.
“Black and white seen as matters within the game, beard and brows played as characters in the play...”
Tan Duce hummed a line from a play, reached for the wine jar, and slapped off the mud seal. Facing the night wind, he poured himself a cup using a tea bowl. Before he could even touch the bowl, his hand began to tremble.
Tan Duce rubbed his fingers, his gaze flashing over the portrait. He seemed amused by the somewhat useless expression of the man in the painting and suddenly burst into loud laughter.
“When advising others, I’m full of wisdom, but when it’s my turn, I’m just as pathetic!”
Back then, they were obsessed with this path, thinking themselves extraordinary. Now that he thought about it, one was a Go stone container, the other a book basket—one couldn't play the game right, the other couldn't read the books through. Others looked down on their insights, yet the two of them could talk for ages.
Outside the window, the night was deep. Within that ink-blue darkness, dense points of firelight pressed against the horizon far down the river.
Those were the great ships of the Bureau of Gold and Stone. On those ships were the fully armed Jingcheng Guards, the fiercest beasts in the forests of Xiangliang today. Even before they arrived, there was a sense of overwhelming pressure.
The autumn wind had arrived, the cicadas shrieked, schemes were constant, and the killing intent was poised to strike.
Tan Duce raised his cup to invite the moon, but there was no moon tonight; everything was hidden in the darkness.
“The game is set; the momentum is irresistible. Brother Meng, Brother Tang, the great play is about to begin. If you could see it with your own eyes, you would surely find it satisfying.”
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
廿载官子 | The Twenty-Year Endgame | "Guanzi" (官子) is the technical term for the endgame in the game of Go (Weiqi).
孟珂 | Meng Ke | The true name of Old Dog Du (杜老狗).
珂 | Ke | A type of white jade or a jade-like stone.
芰荷纱 | Lotus-patterned gauze | A specific fabric associated with the Qingzhong Mountain Academy.
南宫冀 | Nangong Ji | The Imperial Censor (御史中尉) whose family was massacred.
迷苑 | Labyrinth Garden | The location of the autumn banquet massacre.
金石司 | Bureau of Gold and Stone | A high-level government agency (Jinshi Division).
精诚卫 | Jingcheng Guards | The elite guards/soldiers of the Bureau of Gold and Stone.
安谏使 | Remonstrator An | A female official/disciple (An) from the Censorate or a similar advisory body.
官子 | Guanzi | The endgame phase of a Go match.
