The stifling heat pressed down on the rooftops of Zhenbei City.
Inside the side hall of the Deputy General's manor.
He Minghu sat behind the long desk, gripping a piece of deerskin, repeatedly wiping the waist sword resting across his lap. There were several spots of dark brown blood on the blade, long dried.
The sound of the deerskin rubbing against the spine of the blade echoed in the empty room.
Flap, flap.
The frantic sound of flapping wings came from the corridor outside.
He Minghu's hands paused.
A gray pigeon darted out of the sky, its wings beating erratically. It swooped straight down onto the bamboo cage hanging under the corridor pillar, its claws hooking onto the top rung as it shrank its neck and panted.
The personal guards stationed in the corridor acted quickly. Reaching out to catch the gray pigeon, they swiftly twisted the bamboo tube off its leg and trotted into the room to deliver it.
General, it is from the border market.
He Minghu snatched the bamboo tube, popped the wax seal with his thumb, and pulled out the tightly rolled slip of paper inside.
Just as he unrolled it halfway, the faint crunch of boots stepping on gravel came from outside the door.
Ma Jin'an pushed the door open and entered.
During the day in May, his peacock mandarin square robe was meticulously fastened, buttoned all the way up to the very top of the collar.
The border was filled with blowing sand and wind. Other military officials would have long since opened their robes to let the cool breeze in, but this supervising censor always kept himself tightly wrapped.
Ma Jin'an was in no rush to speak. He glanced at the paper slip in He Minghu's hand, then looked at the bloodstained waist sword on the long desk, his nostrils flaring slightly.
Still wiping that broken sword?
He Minghu gave a cold snort and did not reply.
Ma Jin'an was not annoyed. He slowly walked to the side of the long desk, poured himself a cup of cold tea, picked it up to sniff it, then wrinkled his nose in disgust and set it back down exactly as it was.
Bring it here and let me have a look.
Unhurriedly, he pinched the paper slip from He Minghu's hand and moved to the window to examine it closely.
There were not many words on the paper, written in scribbled tiny regular script, but every stroke was written with urgency.
The imperial envoy brought the mutual trade documents into the border market, took over the supervisory office, dismissed the three trading houses including Demao Firm, and held a secret meeting with the Helian merchant Sarhan at the border council chamber. It is suspected she intends to exchange thirty carts of unknown goods for a massive amount of cattle, sheep, and grain.
After Ma Jin'an finished reading, the corners of his mouth slowly curled up in a faint, enigmatic smile.
He pushed the paper slip in front of He Minghu.
That imperial envoy of yours is truly someone who cannot sit still.
He Minghu glanced at it and slammed his palm onto the long desk.
Fool... What a reckless fool! Hahahahaha!
He stood up abruptly, kicking over the low stool by his feet.
Taking thirty carts of junk to try and get something for nothing from those treacherous Helian merchants? She really thinks she is something special! He Minghu's eyes were full of contempt and malice. Those men under Sarhan are the type who will not release the eagle until they see the rabbit.
Daring to use junk to mess with them, she probably will not even be left with an intact corpse! Good, I want to see how she dies in the border market this time. When the time comes, I will personally go collect her corpse and feed it to the wild dogs!
Ma Jin'an held the cold tea, gently using the lid to scrape away the tea leaves.
Why are you so angry? If she had stayed obediently hidden in the post house, we would have had reservations about the Imperial Sword and would not have been able to strike a lethal blow. Now that she is throwing herself into a dead end, is it not a godsend?
I wish I could muster the troops right now, go to the border market, and chop her into meat paste! He Minghu kicked over the low stool by his feet, his chest heaving violently.
Ma Jin'an waited for him to finish venting before setting the teacup down on the desk with a crisp clink.
Kill her? Is there any need for General He's sword?
He Minghu did not immediately reply.
Ma Jin'an stood up, walked two steps with his hands behind his back, and stopped in front of the northern border map on the wall. His skinny finger tapped the location of the border market, his voice unhurried.
General He, how long have the provisions and pay for Zhenbei City been delayed?
The corner of He Minghu's mouth twitched.
Half a year. Ma Jin'an answered for him.
He Minghu fell silent.
A few days ago, the cooks in the southern camp mixed moldy horse fodder into the porridge, and you had them beaten with thirty military lashes on the spot. Ma Jin'an's voice carried an eerie chill. But what happened after the beating? That very night, that pot of slop mixed with horse fodder was still snatched up and eaten clean by the men below.
We also have to thank Xu Qinghuan for the meat bricks she brought, otherwise...
Ma Jin'an turned around and stared at He Minghu.
In another ten days, the first batch of autumn grain will finally be shipped from inside the pass. But you know in your heart, will that batch of grain make it past Xuanfu?
It would not. The grain routes in Xuanfu were controlled by Marquis Muyang. Without bribing them with enough silver, not a single grain of rice could be transported out.
Ten days. Ma Jin'an held up a finger.
In these ten days, the final ten days, if the soldiers below run out of food, do you think they will eat grass roots first, or eat you, General He, first?
Mutiny. He Minghu squeezed the word through his teeth.
Yes, mutiny. Ma Jin'an sneered. When that happens, the Ministry of War's official bulletin will absolutely not say that the imperial court caused a rebellion by withholding pay. It will only say that Deputy General He Minghu was incompetent in leading the army, forcing the border troops to rebel.
Both your head and mine will have to be chopped off and hung on the city gate tower to appease the public's anger.
The room fell quiet. The sound of wind and sand battering the window lattice became increasingly clear in the silence.
He Minghu's Adam's apple bobbed up and down.
What exactly are you trying to say?
Ma Jin'an returned to the long desk, picked up that slip of paper, and held it over the lamp flame. The flame licked up the paper, the orange light reflecting in his deep-set eye sockets. The paper burned to ashes and fluttered down onto the desk.
What I mean is, let her be.
He Minghu was stunned.
Ma Jin'an dusted the ashes off his hands, his voice suddenly dropping low, so soft it was almost a whisper.
If she wants to go to the border market to raise grain from the Helian people, let her raise it. If she wants to use thirty carts of worthless items to exchange for cattle and sheep, let her exchange them.
Not only will we not stop her, we will also open the doors of convenience for her and play deaf and dumb.
Are you crazy? Let her bring back the grain and claim the merit?! He Minghu's eyes widened.
Fool, listen to me finish. Ma Jin'an raised his hand, pointing his index finger in the air.
Wait until this batch of cattle, sheep, and grain crosses the border, openly entering our Great Qian's checkpoints from the hands of the Helian people...
He paused, the corners of his mouth slowly turning up.
Then we will make our move.
Ma Jin'an continued, An imperial envoy, without the approval of the Ministry of War, without reporting to the Ministry of Revenue, privately conducting massive trades with the Helian Khanate at the border market.
General He, according to the laws of Great Qian, what do you say this is called?
He Minghu immediately drew in a breath of cold air.
Colluding with foreign tribes...
Illicitly communicating with an enemy state. Ma Jin'an finished his sentence, enunciating each word heavily.
Treason.
As this word fell, the air in the room froze.
He Minghu's lips trembled, his chest heaving several times before he finally threw his head back and let out a loud laugh.
Good! What an excellent trap!
Ma Jin'an's smile deepened, carrying the arrogance of one who controlled the entire situation.
Did she not want to relieve the siege of Zhenbei City? Fine, let her do it.
Once the provisions are in our hands, we will report to the Ministry of War and the Grand Secretariat, accusing the imperial envoy of the capital crime of treason by illicitly communicating with the Helian Khanate! So what if she has the Imperial Sword? In the face of treason, any gold-plated Imperial Sword is just useless scrap metal.
He held up three fingers and continued:
This way, there are three additional benefits!
First, the Imperial Envoy will be executed for treason. When her head falls, the old debts of the death row and military supplies will be buried in the yellow earth with her.
Second, this batch of cattle, sheep, and provisions will be rightfully confiscated into the military headquarters as the spoils of raiding the rebels. The dead end of the mutiny will resolve itself.
Third.
Ma Jin'an turned around, bowing slightly toward the capital, his eyes burning with fanaticism.
I will personally draft the memorial to the Cabinet. Certain prominent figures in the Cabinet dream of seeing the entire Xu family executed. If we deliver this most crucial head to their desks, will Zhenbei City ever need to beg Xuanfu for provisions and pay again?
He Minghu's chest heaved violently, his heavy breathing echoing through the room.
Brilliant! Absolutely brilliant!
He grabbed the waist sword he had been polishing for half the day and thrust its tip heavily into the blue brick floor.
We'll do exactly as you say! I am ready to head to the checkpoint and capture the rebels at any moment!
Ma Jin'an picked up his long-cold cup of tea and took a shallow sip.
Don't be hasty. The act must be flawless. There is one more thing.
What is it?
The three shopkeepers of the Demao Firm were kicked out of the Superintendent's Office by her today, and they are seething with anger. Ma Jin'an put down his teacup. I have already made contact with Chen Jiuzhou earlier. I'll have him arrange for someone to keep an eye on the border market.
When the provisions cross the border, which route they take, and the exact amount—not a single grain can be missed.
He Minghu broke into a wide grin and nodded repeatedly.
The two men exchanged a knowing smile.
Outside the window, the wind and sand grew fiercer.
...
Under the corridor of the Vice General's manor, the gray pigeon that had delivered the letter was still squatting on its bamboo cage, dozing with its neck tucked in.
Candlelight filtered through the window paper, faintly illuminating the silhouettes of the two men inside. On the inside of the pigeon's right leg band, three extremely fine vertical lines were engraved.
The secret mark of the Demao Firm.
The night swallowed the courtyard.
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away—
Under the same night sky, another gray pigeon was flying against the long wind.
It had no leg band and no markings. Its wings beat against the thick dusk, and riding the strong winds rising from the mountain ranges, it swept at incredible speed over deserts, mountain passes, and the rolling black ridges of the Taihang Mountains.
Its destination was not any frontier fortress.
It was the capital.
The third quarter of the hour of the Rat.
The capital, Changxin Palace.
A thin layer of night dew condensed on the glazed tiles. The copper bells at the eaves chimed softly in the night breeze, tinkling, but the sound was absorbed by the high walls, unable to travel even a fraction of a distance.
A gray shadow landed on the glazed tiles.
The gray pigeon's claws gripped the corrugations of the tiles. Its wings were still fluttering slightly, its neck feathers puffed up as it panted.
The candles in Changxin Palace had not been extinguished.
The palace doors opened silently, revealing a crack.
A hand reached out.
The hand had distinct knuckles, with neatly trimmed nails and no excess. There were no calluses on the back of the hand, and the skin showed almost no signs of sun exposure—it was a pair of hands hidden in sleeves year-round, never touching weapons.
The gray pigeon was steadily caught in the palm.
The crack in the door closed.
Inside the hall, a figure in a dark crimson round-collared robe paced slowly back to the desk in the candlelight. He wore a black gauze hat with gold-painted curved flaps, the shadow of the flaps obscuring most of his face.
He sat down.
Holding the gray pigeon down with his left hand, his right hand twisted open the wax-sealed bamboo tube on the pigeon's leg. His movements were neither rushed nor slow.
The slip of paper was pulled out and flattened.
The candle flame flickered.
Those eyes swept across the paper, deep and silent, revealing no emotion.
The handwriting on the slip was dense, filling the entire piece.
He looked at it for a long time.
Then he raised his hand and brought the paper close to the candle flame.
The flame licked the edge of the paper, and the slip instantly burned into a grayish-white curled fragment, falling into the copper burner on the desk.
He released the gray pigeon.
The gray pigeon flapped its wings and darted up to the roof beam, squatting in the dark, motionless.
Silence returned to the hall.
The man sat upright at the desk, his hands folded and resting on his lap.
The candlelight illuminated his profile. His cheekbones were not high, his jawline was sharp and thin, and his lips were extremely thin.
A map was spread out on the desk.
The mountains, rivers, and fortresses of the Great Qian's northern border were clearly visible in the candlelight. The location of Zhenbei City had been circled with a small red circle using a vermilion brush.
Next to that circle was a line of tiny characters.
The ink had completely dried.
It read: Xu.
