Each Harboring Their Own Schemes

The sounds of hooves, footsteps, and human voices were constantly tangling together in a chaotic din.

Chen Chong stood beneath the corridor eaves of World-Aiding Hall, watching the procession outside. It was a disorderly army, its equipment far from complete. Some wore leather armor, some only coarse cloth tunics, and some were even bare-chested, displaying bodies covered in bulging muscle and crisscrossing scars.

Their weapons were just as varied: spears, cleavers, iron forks, and even several carrying cudgels fashioned from hoes.

Yet no one dared underestimate this army. More than ten thousand men had poured into Dingshan County.

They formed a loose procession as they entered through the northern gate and advanced south along the main street. A dark, oppressive mass, they resembled a thick iron-gray serpent, filling the entire street from end to end.

Most of their faces carried a harshness that showed they were men who had seen battle.

Their gazes were hard as fire-tempered iron. They did not blink when looking at others; the person being watched was always the first to look away.

Some had knife scars on their faces, some were missing half an ear, and some limped slightly as they walked. Yet the foot of the limping man struck the ground even more heavily than the others'.

Hardly anyone in the procession spoke. There were only the sounds of footsteps and clashing weapons, heavy as they pressed onto the bluestone road—and onto the hearts of every person in Dingshan County.

The army continued toward the heart of the city.

Inside a rather magnificent reception hall,

the families in all of Dingshan County that could be considered established lineages had gathered there.

Two chairs stood on the raised dais. Seated in the upper chair was Zhao Qianyuan, head of the Zhao Family; the other occupant was Leng Yuqiu, leader of the rebels.

Zhao Qianyuan was in his fifties. He was tall and broad, with a lean face, slightly high cheekbones, and deeply sunken eye sockets. His gaze was somber. He wore a stone-blue brocade robe, a jade belt around his waist, and a dark-jade thumb ring on his hand. Sitting there, his back was straight as a pine.

The Zhao Family was considered the oldest lineage in Dingshan County. In the past, it had stood alone at the top. Since the generation of the Zhao Family's old patriarch, most of Dingshan County's grain shops, cloth stores, and salt-and-iron businesses had been under the Zhao Family's name. That lasted until the Li Family appeared.

The Li Family's development had sharply squeezed the Zhao Family's interests in every area. In the short span of three generations, the Li Family had gone from an outsider household to one capable of standing shoulder to shoulder with the Zhao Family.

Now, most of the profitable trades in Dingshan County belonged to the Zhao and Li Families.

Zhao Qianyuan's expression was not pleasant. It had been that way for more than a decade; every time he saw Li Huize, his face looked none too good.

Leng Yuqiu sat in the other chair. He was in his forties, powerfully built, with shoulders as broad as door panels. He wore a black cloth tunic washed until it had faded white, its sleeves rolled up to reveal thick forearms.

A cowhide cord was wrapped around his left wrist, and the tip of his right little finger was missing. His face was dark, an old knife scar marked his cheekbone, and he wore short stubble on his chin. He did not smile, and the corners of his mouth drooped even at rest, like a taut bowstring.

Yet as he sat there, everyone in the hall unconsciously put several more steps between themselves and him.

Zhao Qianyuan spoke, his voice steady, though something lay pressed beneath it. "Commander Leng, money is naturally easy to discuss. But cultivation methods are each family's foundation. Whether to hand them over still needs to be deliberated. For an army, aren't money and provisions the most important things?"

Leng Yuqiu said no more. He rose, swept his gaze over everyone present, then turned and left. His steps were steady as he crossed the smooth, polished bluestone bricks, making not the slightest sound.

He walked out of the reception hall, and the personal guards waiting outside followed him. Their footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Everyone present was somewhat dazed. Once they came back to themselves, one of them cursed, "A hillbilly barbarian—truly uncivilized."

The shouts of ten thousand people outside made the man who had just cursed blanch again, and he fell silent.

Ten thousand voices cried out in unison. The wave of sound surged from the north of the city like floodwater spilling over a dike, rolling over the rooftops and pouring into every corner of the reception hall.

The water in the teacups trembled faintly, while the smoke rising from the Boshan Censer was shaken crooked. The entire hall fell into a momentary standstill.

Then Zhao Qianyuan spoke. "A matter under discussion naturally requires repeated deliberation. You may all return for now. For the sake of Dingshan County, my Zhao Family will certainly stand at the forefront."

The words were beautifully put. The heads of the families present all clasped their hands and took their leave. Their expressions varied: some were thoughtful, some had gloomy faces, and some looked as if a heavy burden had been lifted.

Li Huize had sat in a corner, barely speaking from beginning to end. He wore his usual moon-white, loose-fitting robe and held a scroll in his hand. When everyone dispersed, he rose as well, gave a slight nod, and walked out calmly.

The rebels' arrival had brought a subtle balance to Dingshan County. The turmoil brought by the refugee camps temporarily subsided.

The wandering refugees who had roamed the streets had vanished. In their place were rebel patrols, moving in groups of three or five with sabers slung at their waists as they walked along the streets.

They did not rob or cause trouble. They simply walked. Yet it was precisely this quiet that made the entire city even more tense.

Night deepened.

Within the Zhao Family's lavish estate, a dark shadow flashed past. Its figure was so swift that it touched down on a roof ridge and was gone again, like a night owl.

The Zhao Family had plenty of guards, but the shadow seemed intimately familiar with the estate's layout. It skirted the front courtyard, passed through a side corridor, avoided three groups of patrolling guards, and finally landed before the door of the study in the rear courtyard.

The light was on inside Zhao Qianyuan's study. Lou Fuyi was seated across from him.

"Compared with working with a barbarian from the hills like Leng Yuqiu, I still prefer dealing with an intelligent man like Chief Lou." Zhao Qianyuan leaned against the back of his chair, a teacup in hand. His tone was much more relaxed than it had been in the reception hall.

Lou Fuyi was gently stroking the table before him. His fingers glided across its surface from one end to the other, his fingertips pressed against the wood grain as though he were touching a priceless treasure.

"This table alone is worth a hundred taels of gold. Intelligent men all know how to choose."

Zhao Qianyuan smiled. Lou Fuyi smiled as well. The two exchanged a glance, and their laughter echoed through the study for a while.

At the same time, an unexpected visitor had appeared in the room where Leng Yuqiu was staying.

Leng Yuqiu sat before the table, a map of Dingshan County spread out before him.

At the sound of the door, he raised his head. When he saw who it was, he could not help laughing. The visitor wore a loose moon-white robe and had a slender figure and fair, clean features, like a scholar paying a friend a visit beneath the moon.

It was Li Huize.

"I never expected it to be the head of the Li Family." Leng Yuqiu laughed as he spoke, his voice like a broken gong, utterly at odds with the elegant scholar's attire.

Li Huize smiled faintly. "Why couldn't it be me?"

Leng Yuqiu said, "The head of the Li Family isn't afraid that working with mud-legged men like us will dirty his hands? We are rebels, after all."

Li Huize smiled lightly. He walked to the table and lowered his head to examine the map. His gaze lingered on it for a moment before he raised his head and looked at Leng Yuqiu.

"We merely share the same road and traveled together for a short while. As for cooperation, Dingshan County is still the imperial court's Dingshan County. What cooperation is there to speak of?"

Leng Yuqiu immediately burst into loud laughter. His laugh was coarse and booming, making the flame of the oil lamp on the table waver.

When he finished laughing, he looked at Li Huize. There was something more in his gaze now—perhaps appreciation, perhaps wariness.

The night wind of Dingshan County slipped in through the crack in the window, causing the corners of the map to curl slightly.

On the distant city walls, torches flickered fitfully in the wind. This small city embraced by mountains had finally, in this autumn, welcomed the tide it could not escape.