After leaving the old steward’s residence, Zhang San looked around the deserted alley and reached out to take Sisi by the wrist.
He had seen Sisi lose control in the prefectural yamen and knew the calm that followed was only forced restraint, so he called softly, “Sisi.”
Sisi raised his eyes and looked at him seriously.
Zhang San turned Li Si’s palm upward and gently wiped away several dried streaks of blood. Though he often comforted Sisi, he had never been good at grand words or elegant principles. All he could manage was a quiet, “The dead cannot return. Don’t be too sad.”
Sisi blinked and slowly nodded. “Mm.”
In truth, Li Si vaguely understood now. Those emperors, ministers, and generals who stood far above ordinary people all carried scales inside their hearts. Human lives were not equal weights to them. Grand Preceptor Tong was treacherous and vicious, caring only about preserving himself and treating ordinary people like grass beneath his feet. Yet even Prefect Zhang, who fulfilled his duties and could hardly be called corrupt or incompetent, had been forced to weigh two thousand lives against one hundred thousand and decide which mattered more. To preserve what weighed heavier, he had gritted his teeth and sacrificed what weighed less. In His Majesty’s eyes, a ritual supposedly capable of “saving the national fortune” and preserving the realm naturally outweighed the lives of fifty ordinary soldiers.
After everything that had happened these past few days, Li Si was no longer quite as impulsive as before. Just as it seemed he should not have killed Prefect Zhang, perhaps he should not march into the palace with a saber and chop apart the Emperor who had issued such an absurd decree either. Besides, Grandma remained in the capital—in effect, a hostage. Li Si could only obey the decree, find the young master, and escort him back.
What else could I do?
Just as when he had curled up in the dungeon in confusion, Li Si knew the question.
He still did not know the answer.
——
Seeing that Sisi remained somewhat lost and uncertain but had steadied his emotions, Zhang San finally relaxed.
Before leaving, he led Li Si on a full circuit around Kuiyuan so he could inspect the city’s defenses carefully one last time. Over the past few days, Zhang San had accompanied Wang Xu on several patrols, but those had covered only the walls and military camps. This was the first time he could properly observe the entire city in daylight.
The Great Preparedness Granary inside the inner city was heavily guarded. Civil clerks had erected sheds and tables outside it to inventory supplies and stamp approvals. Troops from the different gates arrived with carts, horses, and documents from their commanding officers to collect military provisions. Shops and market stalls remained open throughout the city, selling daily necessities. Soldiers patrolled every street and alley, preventing robbery and stopping merchants from hoarding goods or driving up prices.
Festivals, public gatherings, theaters, music halls, and other entertainment had all ceased. The people had not shut themselves indoors, however. Many poor civilians had been conscripted for wartime labor and received grain after a day’s work to support their families. On the drill grounds of the military camps, several hundred craftsmen and more than a thousand civilians were cutting up discarded timber and building defensive barricade nets.
Order throughout the city was excellent, with soldiers patrolling day and night. Zhang San and Li Si were conspicuous in both appearance and build, and their military and clerk’s clothing drew attention, so they were questioned several times along the way. Sisi possessed his Imperial City Directorate token and could pass freely. Now Zhang San had a Militia Commissioner’s token of his own, so he hung it prominently from his belt and swaggered through the streets, thoroughly enjoying his first taste of officialdom.
——
At last, they went to the eastern military camp to pay their respects to Chief Commander Wang.
It was afternoon, and Chief Commander Wang was drilling soldiers on the practice ground. Before the Xiao siege began, he had recruited a thousand village soldiers from the surrounding counties and villages and personally trained them. Nearly two months had passed, and the results were already apparent. When he heard that Zhang San and the young Envoy had arrived, he handed the drilling over to a deputy officer and hurried back to the commander’s tent.
The two waited outside. Chief Commander Wang strode over, waved away their formal greetings, and said as he walked, “Come inside.”
Sisi followed Zhang San in. Chief Commander Wang glanced back at him, and Zhang San hurriedly explained, “Chief Commander, he’s one of our own. If you think it’s inconvenient, I can have him return to the post station.”
“No matter. The young Envoy is a man of true feeling. I admire him greatly. Once he returns to the capital, if he has the opportunity to see His Majesty and report my plans, it may benefit the war.”
The three entered the tent and gathered around a terrain model displaying the entire long, narrow Hedong Plain.
Chief Commander Wang said, “A’Xiao, do you know why I’m sending you to Ant County?”
Zhang San shook his head. “I await your instructions.”
“The tragedy of General Sun’s relief force was partly Prefect Zhang’s fault. But at its root, the disaster happened because Kuiyuan has been isolated and cut off from outside news, leaving us unable to distinguish friend from enemy. Before the Xiao army surrounded the city, Prefect Zhang planted informants throughout the northern prefectures and states in the hope that they could report back. Most disappeared without a trace. Several days ago, only one informant stationed in Xin Prefecture finally managed to make his way back to Kuiyuan. He was gravely wounded. Before dying, he told us of the northern armies’ rebellions and the fall of the various prefectures. Prefect Zhang knew only that Shuozhou had surrendered. He could not determine whether General Sun himself remained loyal, which was why he did not dare trust him.”
Zhang San nodded. “I understand. You want Ant County to remain hidden and serve as Kuiyuan’s eyes and ears—to pass news inward and help verify whether any relief force is truly loyal. But Ant County has weak walls and very few soldiers. Once the Xiao discover it, they could take it within days. How long could it keep sending information then?”
“That is the second reason I’m sending you. Ant County may be useful for more than that. A’Xiao, young Envoy, come closer.”
Chief Commander Wang extended two fingers like a blade and pointed south of Kuiyuan, west of the Fen River, at a narrow strip of land caught between the Luliang Mountains and the river. “An ancient city once stood here. It was called Jinyang. It served as the capital of several dynasties and is famous throughout history. It lies roughly thirty li from present-day Kuiyuan, on the western bank of the Fen River. The terrain is dangerous and easy to defend.”
Zhang San asked, “If the place was that good, why was the city moved?”
The present city of Kuiyuan stood east of the Fen River on a wide, open plain without natural protection on any side. It was an isolated city that could be surrounded and attacked from every direction.
Chief Commander Wang sighed and explained.
“From the end of the Tang Dynasty until Great Xuan was founded, nearly a century of chaos passed, with many regimes dividing the land. One small state in Hedong made Jinyang its capital and relied on its natural defenses. Great Xuan’s Founding Emperor once attacked Jinyang and failed to take it. Later, his younger brother, Emperor Taizong, personally led an army against the city. The walls never fell, but the ruler of that small state became frightened and eventually surrendered Jinyang voluntarily.
“Emperor Taizong believed Jinyang was too strong and too defensible. He had also heard that Jinyang was historically known as the ‘Dragon City’ and possessed Water virtue, which conflicted with Great Xuan’s Fire virtue. Fearing that rebels might later use the city as a base, he relocated its population, then successively burned and flooded the city until ancient Jinyang was completely destroyed.”
Even Li Si, who had only been listening, frowned. He knew nothing about feng shui or elemental theories, but abandoning a strong fortress capable of resisting northern enemies and replacing it with a strategically weaker city sounded profoundly unwise.
Chief Commander Wang continued, “The ruined city itself can no longer be used. But while reviewing old military records recently, I discovered something interesting concerning your hometown, Ant County.”
Zhang San asked, “What?”
“Ant County had no name in ancient times. It was merely wilderness in the mountains. Yet according to Tang military records, both Ant County and Jinyang stood west of the Fen River. Any northern force seeking to attack Jinyang first had to pass through Ant County. So during the Tang Dynasty, a large military stronghold was established there. It served as an important pass upstream from Jinyang and once housed a major garrison.”
Zhang San said, “But there’s only one road into and out of Ant County. All an enemy has to do is block the mountain road. How could an army move at all?”
“That is exactly why I’m sending you back. Find out whether Ant County is truly nothing more than an isolated mountain county, and why it was once able to serve as a military stronghold. If Ant County can become a fortress again, its naturally defensible terrain may allow it not only to protect itself, but perhaps even save Kuiyuan.”
Zhang San finally understood and immediately bowed. “Yes, Chief Commander.”
Chief Commander Wang continued, “A’Xiao, you are now a Militia Commissioner. Every word you speak and every action you take may affect the lives of an entire county, perhaps even the safety of Kuiyuan itself. Your responsibility is enormous. Think carefully and act cautiously in everything. Never act merely on impulse.”
Zhang San repeatedly acknowledged the warning.
Chief Commander Wang gave him several more instructions and handed him a codebook. All messages were to use cipher symbols, and carrier pigeons were to be released only after nightfall to make interception by the Xiao more difficult. Then he dismissed them to prepare. Time was precious; they would leave the city that very night.
——
At dusk, the two appeared atop the western wall.
Both had changed into black clothes suited for night travel. Li Si reclaimed the saber and bow confiscated when he entered the city. Zhang San had meanwhile pestered Wang Xu into lending him a high-quality broad-bladed saber—the very weapon Wang Xu normally carried himself.
A bamboo pigeon cage was strapped to Zhang San’s back. Beneath its black cloth covering were more than a dozen messenger pigeons.
Wang Xu had even intended to give Li Si his Golden Crow Bow, but Zhang San stopped him. “Too long and too heavy. He’ll have trouble carrying it, especially if the Xiao chase us.”
Wang Xu relented and instead personally selected several dozen particularly well-made arrows and filled Li Si’s quiver.
Watching him bend over beneath the lantern light and inspect every arrow for Li Si with the care of a protective older brother, Zhang San complained, “Brother Xu, when I asked you for a saber earlier, you refused no matter how much I begged. But when you’re giving him things, suddenly you’re generous.”
Wang Xu cursed, “Any good weapon I give you gets ruined! You either break it or lose it somewhere! Father told me yesterday that you hacked a notch into his sword! Is a sword supposed to be used like a saber, you little wastrel? Giving you anything is a waste! I’ve changed my mind. Give me my saber back! Someone, get him a broken one!”
Zhang San retreated rapidly, jumped onto a breach in the crenellated parapet, and grabbed the great rattan basket used to lower people down. “Brother, I’m going!”
The two brothers-in-arms had fought beside one another for years. Comrades came and went, and both had long since grown accustomed to separation and death. But this time, there was a genuine possibility that the country itself might fall. Perhaps this truly could be their last meeting. A touch of melancholy entered Zhang San’s heart. He wanted to say, Let’s meet again after we win this war, then decided that sounded horribly unlucky—people who said things like that generally never saw each other again. With remarkable wisdom, Zhang San swallowed the words.
Wang Xu seemed to want to say something too, but apparently decided that saying too much would be equally unlucky. In the end, he only said, “Be careful.”
Zhang San waved and descended in the basket. After dropping only a few meters, he saw Wang Xu’s head poke over the wall again, looking strangely reluctant to part.
Touched, Zhang San waved once more.
Wang Xu shouted, “Stop bullying the young Envoy! Once your assignment is finished, send him safely home!”
Zhang San: “…”
——
Not long afterward, Li Si climbed out of another basket. Zhang San waited below with his hands on his hips and immediately demanded, “Little Fool, tell me the truth. What kind of enchantment did you put on Brother Xu?”
The first genuine smile Li Si had given anyone since childhood had been sincerely bestowed on Brother Xu, but Li Si himself had completely forgotten it. That night, he had been half asleep. After seeing Brother Xu leave, he simply curled up beside Brother Xiao again and went back to sleep.
So he only shook his head blankly, looking utterly innocent—like a tiny white flower blooming in the darkness.
Zhang San viciously pinched the flower-like face. Li Si’s eyes widened in pain, making him look even more innocent.
——
The two crept along like a pair of furtive mice, alternately walking, crouching, crawling, and hiding. After half an hour, they finally approached the Xiao western camp.
From a distance, they saw torches blazing throughout the camp and a new command banner flying overhead. Evidently, a new commander had been appointed. Zhang San carefully counted the tents and found considerably more than before, which likely meant the number of soldiers had increased as well. The sentries no longer showed any sign of laziness or amusement. At the slightest disturbance, they immediately became alert and searched their surroundings.
After observing quietly for a while, Zhang San and Li Si continued westward.
——
Along the way, they encountered two Xiao cavalry scouts. Using the same old method, the two hid behind rocks, ambushed them, dragged them from their horses, and killed them. Zhang San killed the horses too.
Li Si knelt beside the bodies and stroked one horse’s head, grief filling his eyes.
Zhang San regretted it as well. The Xiao cavalry rode excellent horses. Ever since Great Xuan lost the Sixteen Prefectures of Yanyun, it had lacked broad valleys and rich grasslands suitable for breeding horses. Coupled with corruption in the state horse administration, good warhorses were always scarce and had to be largely purchased from abroad. Only a few months earlier, Northern Lang had fallen and the Sixteen Prefectures returned to Great Xuan. Shuozhou had been among them, which was why General Sun’s two thousand elite cavalry had all ridden horses of this quality. Yet Great Xuan had barely possessed those territories for several months before the Xiao seized them again, and General Sun’s two thousand cavalry had died for nothing beneath Kuiyuan.
If Zhang San could bring these two horses back to Ant County, that would have been ideal. But the mountain road had been blocked by the rockslide. Even if they went only as far as the earthen fortress, the river ice was still not strong enough to bear the horses’ weight. Letting them go was also dangerous. Trained warhorses knew their way home and might return to the Xiao camp by themselves, alerting the enemy and bringing more pursuers.
Zhang San had no choice except to kill them.
Of course, he knew Li Si’s grief was different from his own. There were no complicated calculations inside the little horse’s head. He was simply sad because two other horses had died.
Zhang San pulled the melancholy Li Si to his feet. “All right. We need to keep moving.”
——
Another hour later, they reached the abandoned village where they had rested before. It was far from the Xiao camp and relatively safe. The two decided to remain there until dawn, wait for the sun to warm the air somewhat, then cross the frozen river.
They slipped into the same roofless earthen house they had used before. The heated brick platform was still there, as was the half-scorched bedding they had once used as a cushion, so they sat down side by side.
Four days earlier, soldiers had crowded all around them, and even conversation had to be kept quiet so they would not disturb anyone. Four days later, the only survivors present were Zhang San and Li Si. Even the horse Li Si had fed beans to had later been killed by a stray Xiao arrow.
Li Si sat with his head lowered. One glance at his expression told Zhang San that his mood had sunk.
Knowing he was remembering those events, Zhang San reached out and poked his pale cheek.
Li Si turned toward him in confusion.
“Little Fool, how did someone like you ever end up becoming a soldier?”
Li Si looked even more confused. He had been born into a military household. Of course he was supposed to become a soldier.
Zhang San poked him again, then rubbed the cool flesh of his cheek. “With your temperament, you should have studied instead. Being an official wouldn’t suit you either. You should’ve become a schoolteacher. Every day you could shake your head while reciting books, and the greatest problem in your life would be your students misbehaving again.”
Li Si did not want to become a schoolteacher. Being a soldier is good. Soldiers get paid and can support their families. They learn martial arts and can protect their families too. These past days had repeatedly shown him how unpredictable the world was, how insignificant he himself was, and how powerless he remained against so many things. Even so, he was much better than the child who had once been pinned down and bullied by vicious children, who had made Grandma cry through the night, who had forced Second Uncle to constantly worry over him.
If one day I can become as capable as Brother Xiao, that would be even better.
A great many thoughts passed through Li Si’s mind. What came out was only, “Being a soldier is good.”
Zhang San snorted with laughter. “Good my ass!”
His left arm could now be raised, so he put both hands to work and kneaded Li Si’s face mercilessly, first squashing it into a crooked mouth, then flattening it into a little dough cake.
Brother Xu had said, Stop bullying the young Envoy.
Zhang San intended to do exactly the opposite. So what? Am I not allowed to bully him?
Li Si quietly let him do as he pleased. He did not dodge and did not kick at Zhang San like a stubborn mule. Zhang San liked how obedient he had become, and the more he kneaded and squished, the happier he got.
The moonlight was faint, so he could not see Li Si blushing. He only laughed. “Why’re you getting hotter and hotter?”
At last, Li Si turned his face aside to escape, only for Zhang San to catch his chin and turn him back. “What’re you shy about?”
Had Li Si been a young woman, she might very well have pulled out a hairpin and stabbed this shameless rogue to death. But Li Si had never been teased this way by anyone except Zhang San and did not even understand that this counted as flirting. He only thought Brother Xiao was bullying him again, just as Brother Xiao had bullied him from the very first time they met.
Back then, Li Si had become so angry that he fought him. Now he willingly let Brother Xiao bully him. Brother Xiao was not hitting or cursing him, so what did it matter if his face was touched and kneaded a little? But Brother Xiao’s fingers were warm, and in the darkness, his indistinct smile was pleasant to look at. On a winter night, Brother Xiao was like a warm flame. Li Si wanted to move closer, yet also found him unbearably hot. His face gradually became so warm that it was uncomfortable. He felt almost unable to breathe, as though he had somehow caught a chill. His heart beat in confusion, and in the end, he could only retreat.
Li Si stood and fled to the other side of the room, making Zhang San burst into delighted laughter.
Zhang San did not chase him. Instead, he lay flat on his back atop the half-scorched bedding. “I won’t tease you anymore. I’m sleeping for a while. You take first watch. Wake me in an hour.”
Not long after Zhang San lay down, Li Si silently crept back. He sat beside him and pressed his lower back against Zhang San’s arm. As always, the two leaned against one another, and within moments of closing his eyes, Zhang San was asleep.