Breaking the Move

Di'an, Imperial Palace.

By Sky-Crest Lake, birds sang amid fragrant blossoms. The misty rain after the downpour had driven away the summer heat.

Two old men who had kept each other company for a lifetime walked along the shaded path beside the lake embankment. The faint morning light filtered through the treetops alongside birdsong, falling over them and drawing the attention of the man in the bright yellow dragon robe.

The old man lifted his eyes to watch a bluebird hopping along the branches and abruptly said, "I've noticed that since the year before last, the number of times we've met has only grown."

The distinguished middle-aged man stopped as well, his voice betraying none of his emotions.

"That is not a good thing."

The old man looked back, a trace of deeper meaning in his aged, shadowy eyes.

"What? Throughout Great Yan, those wishing to see me are as numerous as fish crossing a river, yet when it comes to you, Prime Minister, it becomes a bad thing?"

The middle-aged man met his gaze but said nothing.

Seeing this, the old man gently shook his head and continued forward.

"True enough. The more often we meet, the more it means things are happening outside."

Breathing in the earthy fragrance of the rain-washed woods, the middle-aged man slowly caught up and followed the thread of the conversation.

"So which matter did Your Majesty summon this subject over for?"

The old man lowered his eyes. Rather than answering at once, he said in a distant tone, "I once believed that the one directing the war at the Northern Border was either that girl of yours or Zong Qingsheng. But lately, I've realized that this understanding of mine appears to have been wrong—and wrong by a great deal."

Staring at the old