“Of course, Baishajue.” He Lingchuan cracked his neck. “I’ve got a feeling something big is about to go down there.”

He needed to be steadier, sharper, and more meticulous.

“Oh, right, the investigation in Zhitian Township is basically wrapped up. Send someone to pass everything we learned to Fushan Yue.”

* * *

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Someone banged on the door.

He Lingchuan opened his eyes to the familiar wooden rafters again.

A lone spider on a wooden beam was patiently spinning its web.

He sat up and rubbed his face, already knowing he had returned to the Panlong Dreamscape.

He had not been in for days. This time, he had appeared directly inside his own little wood house, which meant the great army under the Red General’s command had ultimately given up on marching east and returned to Panlong City.

Even though he had prepared himself for it, He Lingchuan still let out a long sigh, bitterly disappointed.

The chance to change the fate of everyone in Panlong City had slipped away just like that.

“Broken Blade!” someone shouted outside. “We’re going out for drinks. Are you coming or not?”

“Coming.”

He Lingchuan opened the door and found a dozen comrades outside. Hu Min, Willow, Skinny, and everyone were there.

They picked a small tavern nearby, ordered a few jars of aged wine and some simple dishes, and spread out.

After chatting for a while, He Lingchuan finally learned what had happened after he had “logged off” from the dreamscape last time. West Luo’s ruler had issued four decrees in rapid succession, urging the Panlong army to retreat back to the wasteland, each decree harsher in wording than the last.

The main reason was that after the State of West Ji fell, the next two states along the Panlong army’s eastern route were terrified. While they hurriedly strengthened their forces, they also pressured the State of West Luo, promising in exchange to help West Luo suppress the southwestern rebels.

Their borders touched rebel territory. As long as they made trouble at the frontier, the rebels would have to hesitate.

Even more laughable was that once news spread back home that the Panlong army was preparing to return eastward, the various rebel factions actually quieted down a lot.

He Lingchuan sucked on a salted peanut. “Why?”

“What do you think?!” Willow spat, furious. “They’re afraid we’ll come back and snatch the prize right out from under them! None of those rebel groups cares about the common people! Every last one of them is rotten!”

Hu Min added, “Whoever takes the capital becomes everyone’s target. Once they saw the Panlong army coming home, nobody wanted to throw themselves in first anymore.”

The capital was not easy to take. The State of West Luo’s final strength would be poured into that fight, and the capital was guarded by a greater monster, the golden bull. After killing a thousand and losing eight hundred of their own[1], how could anyone still have strength left to face rival rebel factions afterward?

Now, with even the Panlong army returning, every force began cherishing its own feathers. Under the pressure of a fierce army looming over them, they all suddenly learned restraint.

The moment they pulled back, pressure on the State of West Luo’s capital eased sharply. The court immediately felt like it could breathe again, especially convinced that forbidding the Panlong army from marching east had been a stroke of genius.

They believed it better to keep that blade hanging over the enemy’s heads.

Deterrence was far more useful than actually striking.

He Lingchuan idly swirled his wine cup. “So Lord Zhong withdrew because of that?”

“There were twists beyond that,” Skinny said. “We stayed on the front lines too long, and Baling launched a joint assault on the Panlong Wasteland. Lord Zhong repelled them twice. After that, Baling and Xianyou joined forces again and kept sending troops to the wasteland’s edge, gathering and setting camp. They built up to around a hundred thousand men, preparing a full-scale invasion. Lord Zhong weighed it over and over, and in the end, he had no choice but to summon us back.”

“The northern monster state and the State of Baling have always backed those little states, especially West Ji. Every year, West Ji sent tribute across vast distances to the northern monster state, or else it wouldn’t have had the guts to bark at Panlong City. Now that West Ji was suddenly wiped out, they couldn’t just sit and watch.”

Resistance to the east was fierce, as the small states were determined to fight to the death, and West Luo refused to allow the campaign to proceed. Meanwhile, old enemies were invading from the west. The Panlong army was threatened on both flanks; it truly could not afford to abandon Panlong City and continue east.

Willow slammed her cup down. “So Baling opening the Jinxi Corridor for us was just fake kindness. The second our army marched out, they turned around and stabbed us in the back. Otherwise, how could they have gathered a hundred thousand troops so easily, and an allied army at that!”

A massive army did not move without logistics. Feeding and mobilizing a hundred thousand men meant endless preparation and endless money, with accounts and ledgers flowing like water.

Moreover, Xianyou and Baling were usually at odds. For them to suddenly move in perfect sync, how could that be anything but premeditated?

The reactions of the small states to the east, the reaction of West Luo, and the reactions of Baling and Xianyou, the Red General/Mitian and Zhong Shengguang had predicted it all.

He Lingchuan glanced at Willow. “You figured all that out?”

Willow froze, a little embarrassed. “Why can’t I? Am I not allowed?”

But she was a straightforward girl. She pressed her lips together and admitted it outright, “Fine, fine, I didn’t come up with it. The masters at the Hall of Inquiry did. The Hall has been lively lately. Generals from all over have been coming to give lectures. It’s all about warfare. People have to show up two hours early just to get a seat. Oh, and last time, General Ling openly argued with someone right there in the hall.”

The Panlong army had gone east in a wide arc only to return to its base.

After the turmoil, the restless hearts of the people gradually settled again.

Now the citizens understood that it was not that Panlong City’s leaders did not want to go back. It was simply not possible at the moment.

Willow pulled out several silver ingots and pushed them toward He Lingchuan.

“What’s this?”

“Wagers are wagers. This is my share and Doorboard’s.” Back in Yuheng City, they had bet the Panlong army would continue east, while A’Luo and Skinny, following He Lingchuan, had bet that the army would return west. “You can split it between yourselves.”

He Lingchuan shook his head and pushed the silver back. “This money’s meaningless.”

It had only ever been a token. And the way things turned out was miserable. What was the point of taking the token now?

He Lingchuan casually changed the subject. “Speaking of which, where’d Doorboard go?”

“To see his fellow townsman.” Willow did not bother with niceties. She put the silver away. “You haven’t heard? That townsman of his is as stubborn as a mule. He actually petitioned in public in Yuheng City, begging the Red General to keep marching east and fight their way back home.”

He Lingchuan jerked upright. “In public? Not gathering a crowd, right?”

“No, just him. Otherwise, it’d be treated as mutiny, and he’d be executed as a ringleader!” Defying a superior was a military taboo. Skinny gave a bitter laugh. “I was standing right behind him. When the Red General’s gaze swept over us, my whole back froze.”

“What happened after?” The Panlong army’s discipline is strict. In wartime, soldiers are required to obey without question. For that man to have pressured the Red General openly, losing his head wouldn’t have been surprising.

“The Red General sentenced him to sixty strokes, to be carried out after returning to the city. He hasn’t joined the Gale Army yet. Otherwise, the punishment would have been heavier,” Willow said with a shrug. “They finished the beating two days ago, leaving his flesh a mess. He’ll be bedridden for a long time. Doorboard brought him rice, flour, and medicinal soup.”

He Lingchuan fell silent. Military strokes were no joke. Some patrol guards did not even survive twenty strokes.

For the Red General to have issued that man sixty just went to show that her fury had been real.

Everyone drank in a sulky mood until they were all thoroughly drunk, then stumbled home.

* * *

He Lingchuan had just stepped through his own door when a voice behind him said, “You reek of alcohol.”

He turned his head and saw Sun Fuling perched on the wall, leaning over and looking at him.

She smiled, a dimple appearing in her cheek. She did not need to pose or try. She was the sort of beauty that could be painted straight onto a scroll.

In that instant, He Lingchuan thought of the bone flute in that portrait.

She’s still here.

That’s good.

Under his unblinking stare, Sun Fuling glanced left, glanced right, then pointed at herself. “What?”

“Nothing. Sorry, I’m probably stinking up the air.” He Lingchuan scratched his head and headed for the kitchen. “I’ll wash up.”

When he came back out, Sun Fuling had already placed a basket of fruit on the courtyard table. She pulled out two pears.

“Wanna try one? They say it’s a new variety from the eastern region of the Chipa Highland.”

The pears were huge, and each weighed about half a kilogram. The skin was brown and plain-looking, nothing special to the eye. He Lingchuan had been drinking heavily, and his mouth was dry. He took one and bit in.

Sweet juice flooded his mouth. It was fine-textured and presented almost no grit.

“Delicious.”

“You went drinking with Hu Min and the others?” Sun Fuling drew a dagger and began peeling her pear, slice by slice. “There’s a lot of resentment in the city these days.”

“They came back empty-handed. Nobody would be happy.”

“They took the chance to seize West Ji,” Sun Fuling said slowly. “That also weakened the threat from the east. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Sure, but I still can’t help feeling it’s a waste.”

Sun Fuling asked him, “If you were the Red General, would you march east or return west?”

“March east.”

“Why?” Sun Fuling arched an eyebrow. “So you abandon Panlong City behind you? The eastern expedition is only the vanguard. Behind it are millions of women, children, and the elderly.”

Because no matter what price marching east demanded, it would still be better than the city’s final destruction and mass death.

Of course, that’s in hindsight. From the position the Red General stood in at that moment, turning the army back west had been a carefully weighed decision. It was reasonable, and even correct.

Those thoughts could only remain in his head.

Out loud, He Lingchuan only said, “Lord Zhong was holding the rear. And besides, war is essentially the art of precise calculation. Fight or don’t fight, go back or don’t go back—it depends on how high a price you’re willing to pay for your goal.”

Sun Fuling blinked. “Precise calculation? Who says that?”

He Lingchuan did not answer.

In that great battle on the Han River, he had been swept away by floodwaters and only learned the outcome months later from Li Qingge. The news had shaken him.

Both the Yuan army and the troops from Xun Province had taken grievous losses with dead and wounded beyond counting, yet the generals and officers on both sides had submitted memorials claiming merit, insisting victory was theirs and that the “operational objectives” had been achieved.

Was that not the very definition of “precise calculation”?

Sun Fuling let out a cold laugh. “A price? Are you willing to be that price? Are women, children, and the elderly willing to be that price?”

He Lingchuan bit into his pear. “If people’s hearts are set on going home, maybe they would be.”

“No,” Sun Fuling said calmly. “While people’s hearts are set on going home, they want the price to be paid by someone else, and the reward enjoyed by themselves. That’s human nature. Panlong City’s people are no exception.”

He Lingchuan shook his head. “I just think that losing this chance to return east is a terrible waste.”

“Then accept it.” Sun Fuling peeled another slice and tasted it slowly. “If you can’t change it, you can only live with it. And who knows, maybe there’ll be another chance later.”

A jolt went through He Lingchuan’s chest. But she acted as if it were casual, as if she had said it only offhand.

“I also heard Baling and Xianyou have allied again,” Sun Fuling said softly. “That’s a very bad sign. Those two have their own grudges. Last spring, they even fought a battle, with casualties on both sides. Yet now they’ve actually managed to bring themselves to work together.”

1. The part about killing a thousand and losing eight hundred is actually a common saying in Chinese about taking great losses in order to achieve one’s goal. ☜