When Xiao Nanhui was busy placating Hao Bai, she hadn't given much thought to what her life would actually become.
In her younger years, she had followed Xiao Zhun to suppress mountain bandits and capture roving outlaws, but she had never seen what a female bandit chief was supposed to look like.
Using her recovery as an excuse, she hid in her room for several more days. With nothing else to do, she took advantage of her room’s high vantage point to peek out through the tattered window. After a few days of observation, she had a decent grasp of the situation.
When Pan Mei’er had gone to the banquet hosted by Prefect Sun, she must have taken many of her confidants with her, only for them all to be wiped out. It was thanks to this that Xiao Nanhui’s "dove occupying the magpie’s nest" had not caused much of a stir.
Over those days, she committed the few dozen permanent households in the stronghold to memory—barely a hundred people in total. She discovered that these Southern Qiang people lived lives of extreme poverty and numbness; perhaps they didn't much care who the so-called "Chief" actually was.
After all, no matter who held the title, their circumstances never changed.
The terrain of Bijiang was complex, and rivers often changed course due to uneven rainfall. The Bijiang people, who lived by animal husbandry, had to migrate year-round in pursuit of water sources. Conflicts frequently erupted between strongholds over resources, and years of constant strife had drained the vitality of the tribes. Had it not been so, the Bai clan would never have been able to take advantage of the situation. The Southern Qiang were a warlike and xenophobic people; they would never have voluntarily accepted outsiders from the eastern Crimson Province.
It was currently the dry season in Bijiang, arguably the most difficult time of year for this land. Yet, Xiao Nanhui smelled opportunity in it.
She was different from the native Southern Qiang. She had learned techniques for digging wells and cultivation during her time with the army. If she was willing, she could manage this stronghold and restore some of its life.
In Bijiang, a stronghold chief was often the head of a clan. Southern Qiang strongholds were particularly famous for their matriarchal rule, with hundreds of people following the lead of the matriarch. Men held no power here; at most, they served as enforcers.
Men made up the majority of the stronghold's population. Though they were hot-tempered, they weren't difficult to get along with. Xiao Nanhui had grown up among men and had often roamed the streets with Bolao, picking up a bit of a "jianghu" air. Although she came from the regular army, she lacked the rigid austerity of an official. Coupled with her fluent Lingxi dialect, she gradually began to command authority.
The first thing Xiao Nanhui did was recall half of the young men who were out patrolling and seizing land, sending them instead to clear wasteland, dig wells, and farm. Once there was food, everything else would be easy to negotiate.
When the first crop of beans ripened, everyone’s doubts vanished along with their hunger. Even their rebellious thoughts faded, and a sense of genuine peace finally began to settle over the stronghold.
Since the previous incident, Wu Xiaoliu had become exceptionally well-behaved, assisting her with great proficiency. Hao Bai, on the other hand, had developed a bad habit of wallowing in melancholy. He spent his days composing poetry with the mindset of a "prisoner." The sheer pretentiousness of his words frequently made Xiao Nanhui feel physically ill, which indirectly motivated her to ditch the wheelchair and leave the house as soon as possible.
The "Night Owl" from the An Dao Academy found her on the eighth day after she settled in. Following their secret code, Bolao reported the recent situation in Tongcheng, mentioning only the general westward movement of the thirty thousand troops from the Subei and Guangyao camps. Lu Songping seemed to be behaving himself, but there wasn't a single word regarding the Black Feather Camp.
The drumbeat of doubt in Xiao Nanhui’s heart grew louder, but knowing that a few words couldn't explain the situation at the time, she decided to set it aside for now. She reported the scout positions she had witnessed near Sanmu Pass, informed them that she had successfully entered Bijiang, and established the frequency for future messages.
A day in the mountains is like a decade in the world of men.
From the sweltering heat of summer to the deepening chill of autumn, the days slipped by in silence.
She hadn't expected that once she grew accustomed to the daily routine, Bijiang would turn out to be such a restorative place. Sometimes, if it weren't for the occasional gruff shouts of the people in the stronghold, she might have thought she was on a paid vacation.
Once the injury to her foot was mostly healed, Xiao Nanhui had Wu Xiaoliu fashion a pair of crutches. Under the guise of inspecting her territory, she spent every day hobbling around the vicinity of the stronghold, relaying the terrain and the distribution of neighboring strongholds to Bolao. However, she wasn't entirely satisfied with this; she kept thinking it would be better if she could obtain intelligence closer to the heart of Bijiang.
But that would have to wait until her legs were fully recovered. After all, "startling the snake by beating the grass" was never a good thing.
It was another afternoon, and the autumn sun felt incredibly comfortable. The stronghold was busy preparing food for the winter. Thanks to the new Chief’s methods, the harvest was much better this year, and even the livestock were fat. Smiles finally began to appear on people's faces.
Three half-grown children had picked up discarded stalks of highland barley and were brandishing them like weapons, chasing each other while singing an out-of-tune nursery rhyme.
One of them lagged behind, his face smeared with dirty markings. He chased the other two with claws outstretched, clearly playing the role of a ghost.
The one in front slowed down and was caught; the two of them tumbled into a heap on the ground.
"You're dead!"
"No, I'm not!" the child pinned underneath struggled hard. "We haven't even had our duel yet! We need to fight for three hundred rounds!"
"Hmph, even in a duel, you couldn't beat me! Marquis Qinghuai has three heads and six arms, and he's as black as coal! He has a square, diamond-hard face, angry brows, red eyes, and the pupils of a white tiger! When he sits, he's like a mountain; when he walks, he's like... he's like..."
He stopped halfway, seemingly forgetting his lines. Afraid the other children would laugh at him, his face turned red with effort.
"I didn't know Marquis Qinghuai was born with three heads and six arms."
A lazy female voice drifted down from above the three children. They looked up to see the legendary new Chief.
At the moment, her crutches were nowhere to be seen. She was hanging from a crooked-necked poplar tree by her arms, her legs dangling over the sedge grass. The white bandages that had previously wrapped her feet were now covered in strange scribbles.
"Ch-Chief..."
The three snot-nosed brats stammered and prostrated themselves on the ground, mimicking the adults in the Southern Qiang's full-body kowtow.
Xiao Nanhui clicked her tongue. "Get up, the ground is filthy. That thing you were just reciting—who taught you that?"
The one who had forgotten his lines rushed to say, "Grandmother taught us..."
The one standing next to him quickly nudged him with an elbow.
Xiao Nanhui saw this and found it somewhat amusing. "What else did your grandmother teach you?"
This time, all three children remained silent.
She didn't press them, changing her tone. "Your grandmother is wrong. How could Marquis Qinghuai be that scary? It’s all made up to scare children. How can you believe it so easily? You're just boosting someone else's morale while undermining your own."
The child with the painted face looked a bit guilty, while the other two immediately perked up.
She gave an absentminded smile and asked out of pure boredom, "Since we're talking about Marquis Qinghuai, have you heard any rumors about that old Emperor of Tiancheng?"
"I know!" one of them sniffed excitedly and stammered, "The Em-Emperor could recite at five, write poetry at seven, and by nine, his zither playing sounded like an echo from a deserted valley. No musician in the palace could match him..."
What on earth?!
Why was Xiao Zhun a black diamond-giant while the Emperor was some kind of transcendent immortal? Where was the logic in that?!
"Wait, where did you hear all this?" The words came out a bit too sharply, so she added a defensive follow-up: "Shouldn't we Lingxi people hate him?"
Ever since the Bai clan occupied Bijiang, Tiancheng had applied no small amount of pressure from the shadows. She didn't believe for a second that the commoners here held much affection for the Emperor.
Another child with large eyes chimed in, "We do hate him. But the one who praised him was Xumizi, the zither master our Southern Qiang respects most. How does the Chief not even know that?"
Xiao Nanhui was stunned.
She had done her homework before coming to Bijiang, but she hadn't expected she’d need to learn about music, chess, calligraphy, and painting—let alone the Emperor’s extracurricular activities.
Inexplicably, she thought back to the scene at Sanmu Pass. That zither music seemed to echo in her ears. Though she didn't know much about music, she could tell that it hadn't been about scholarly refinement, but about slaughter and carnage.
She wondered if the Emperor of Tiancheng’s zither music bore any resemblance to that man’s.
"Chief Pan!"
Xiao Nanhui turned to see Wu Xiaoliu hurrying toward her from behind.
After spending this time together, she only needed to look at the fat man's face to know the state of things.
And right now, his expression did not look good.
As she followed Wu Xiaoliu to the stronghold entrance, she immediately spotted a group of unfamiliar Southern Qiang people.
They were very different from her own people in dress and manner, appearing much wealthier and more overbearing.
Among them, only one person stood with his back to her, hands behind his back. He was the shortest of the lot, yet his presence seemed ten feet tall.
The saying "never judge a book by its cover" applied perfectly to people like this. Small men were often the most troublesome; she couldn't afford to let her guard down.
As these thoughts flickered through her mind, she approached the group.
The short man sensed her arrival and turned around, revealing a smiling face. However, his overly thin eyelids betrayed a hint of shrewdness, and his beady eyes darted around before settling on Xiao Nanhui.
"Chief Pan, it’s been a long time. How did you manage to injure your legs? You look quite a bit thinner, too!"
Xiao Nanhui had no intention of playing along with his verbal sparring. She went straight to the point, putting on a confused face. "And you are...?"
The short man feigned surprise. "It’s only been three months, and Mei’er doesn't remember me?"
Wu Xiaoliu took the cue and cleared his throat. "How bold! This is Chief Pan Yao’er, not your 'Mei’er'!"
The short man took a few steps forward, seemingly wanting a closer look. Xiao Nanhui could almost smell the faint, raw stench coming off him—the unique scent of someone who enjoyed eating raw meat.
Even in Bijiang, the ancient custom of eating raw food was considered extremely rare. This man likely came from one of the most savage tribes of the Southern Qiang.
"Pan Mei’er is my elder sister. I am the one in charge here now. If you have business, speak it now."
The short man blinked and adjusted his expression in record time, returning to his smiling facade.
"I see. Since this is our first meeting, I should explain things clearly to avoid any unpleasantness or misunderstandings later. After all, I was on excellent terms with Mei’er, and it should be the same with her sister."
Xiao Nanhui remained silent. Her gaze fell on the empty sacks carried on the backs of the other men. She already had a good idea of what was happening.
"Since Chief Pan is silent, I’ll take that as your consent."
The short man stepped aside, revealing the Southern Qiang bruisers behind him. "These brothers are all domestic servants of Lord Bai. They’ve come to inspect the area according to custom, and while they're at it..." He paused deliberately, rubbing two thick, stubby fingers together. "To collect a little 'hardship money'."
Just this morning, she had been wondering why the Bai clan hadn't made a move yet. Speak of the devil; they had arrived sooner than expected.
Xiao Nanhui broke into a wide smile, ignoring how Wu Xiaoliu was gnashing his teeth beside her. In the next instant, she made a welcoming gesture, as if her doors were always open.
"But of course. Might I ask for this brother’s honorable name?"
The man smiled back, revealing a mouthful of densely packed teeth, looking very much like a man-eating piranha from the Angry River.
"This humble one is surnamed Kuang, given name Kuang Wuwu. Chief Pan may call me A-Kuang, just like everyone else."
***
**Glossary**
Chinese | English | Notes/Explanation
---|---|---
须弥子 | Xumizi | A renowned zither master respected by the Southern Qiang.
匡巫戊 | Kuang Wuwu | A representative/servant of the Bai clan; "A-Kuang."
潘瑶儿 | Pan Yao'er | The alias Xiao Nanhui is using, posing as Pan Mei'er's sister.
白大人 | Lord Bai | Likely a reference to the head of the Bai clan.
怒江 | Angry River | Nujiang River.
鲳鱼 | Piranha/Pomfret | Used metaphorically to describe Kuang Wuwu's teeth/nature.
