Chapter One: A Lone Figure and a Sword

The north wind howled as night fell, casting the land of Yan and Yun into utter silence. High above, crows cawed with a mournful sharpness, their calls almost cheerful in the bleak night.

Li Dapu, chieftain of the Xi tribe, sat proudly astride his horse, whip in hand, his spirits high as he pointed to the flocks of crows wheeling across the sky. Laughing, he declared, “We feast, and even the black birds follow to share in our fortune! What do they say—when one man prospers, even his dogs and pigs benefit… I don’t believe in those so-called gods and spirits. In plain terms, when I grow wealthy, the whole tribe rejoices. Stand with me, Li Dapu, and even if you’re not of my blood, you’ll be like these crows—meat to eat and women to enjoy.”

He was speaking to Lai Wu at his side.

Li Dapu, chief of the Xi tribe, was not a man of letters, and his tribe’s power was not especially great. Yet he was renowned for his valor in battle and a fox-like cunning. In these war-torn northern lands, he played Turkic and Tang powers off each other, adapting with the winds, thriving like grass by a wall—falling whichever way the wind blew, yet living with ease.

Not long before, the newly appointed Governor of Youzhou, Sun Quan, had overreached himself, ignoring the treacherous roads and summer heat. He rashly advanced with a lone force, hoping to annihilate the Xi. Li Dapu seized this opportunity, and with only eight thousand horsemen routed the Tang army, which outnumbered them several times over. Sun Quan and his general Zhou Yiti both fell into Li Dapu’s hands.

With the Tang forces in disarray, Li Dapu unleashed his troops from Lulong Pass to raid Yuyang, Yongnu, and other regions, plundering at will and reaping countless spoils.

His successful campaign was due not only to Sun Quan’s incompetence but also to the covert aid of Youzhou’s local underworld, who provided timely intelligence.

Lai Wu’s real name was Li Wuyi, but as a child he’d been afflicted by a strange disease, leaving a large birthmark on his face. Since then, he’d been nicknamed “the Leper,” a moniker that stuck into adulthood. As his reputation in the underworld grew, people dared not call him that. The “Leper” became “Lai,” and combined with “Wu” from his given name, he became known across Youzhou’s underworld as “Master Lai Wu.”

Lai Wu was known for his loyalty and righteousness, his gangsters and ruffians spread throughout Youzhou, earning him considerable respect. No one would have guessed that this outwardly upright “Master Wu” was, in truth, a traitor colluding with foreign enemies.

With a crooked smile, Lai Wu replied, “Your generosity, King of the Xi, I won’t forget. Our cooperation is mutually beneficial—there’s no need for extra words. Xue Na is already on his way to reinforce the Tang. He’s the son of Xue Rengui—not as incompetent as Sun Quan. Perhaps it’s best to know when to stop…”

Li Dapu was secretly displeased. He’d long coveted Lai Wu’s influence in Youzhou and had tried to win him over, but Lai Wu seemed to rely on other backers. He’d never openly refused, not wishing to sever ties, but he’d shown little interest.

“Hah! Who says a god’s son is necessarily a god? If Xue Rengui is an unrivaled tiger, his son is nothing but a sickly cat,” Li Dapu laughed, his anger masked as he changed the subject. “Still, you have a point. I’ve no reason to clash head-on with Xue Na and waste my warriors. Once my son returns, we’ll withdraw.”

This incursion was grander than any before. Li Dapu divided his forces widely, even penetrating deep into Youzhou’s heartland. His eldest son led a thousand elite Xi cavalry in a bold raid into the heart of Huairou County.

Huairou County, on the outskirts of Jicheng—the seat of Youzhou—lies at the southern foot of the Yan Mountains, bordering Miyun to the east, and Shunyi and Changping to the south. Its location is superb; the people are prosperous, and the county lacks any real defenses—a fat piece of meat ripe for the taking.

Unlike the hereditary customs of the Central Plains, the Xi allowed any male of the clan line to inherit the chieftaincy. Li Dapu’s younger brother, Li Lusu, had long supported him in war and held great prestige, second only to him. Li Dapu, though not without ambition to see the title passed to his own descendants, was not free from concern. By sending his eldest son, Li Moke, on this raid with the finest troops, he was giving the young man a chance to earn glory and secure his future succession.

Lai Wu glanced at the setting sun, unease gnawing at him. “It’s well past the appointed time. Why hasn’t the young chieftain returned?”

Li Dapu laughed boisterously. “He’s young—give him some leeway, my friend. It’s his first time in such a wealthy county; he’s surely dazzled, lingering a bit longer. I’ll send someone to hurry him along…” He ordered a trusted aide to urge the boy’s return. Lai Wu’s worries did not trouble him. After all, Sun Quan had mustered all available troops for this campaign, and apart from a handful of officers like Li Kailuo and Wu Keli who broke through his lines, the Tang army was annihilated. Even the commander, Sun Quan, was now his prisoner. With Youzhou leaderless, it was as safe as his own backyard. Were it not for the high walls and defensive machines of Jicheng, he’d have been tempted to sack that city as well.

After waiting a while, Li Dapu noticed his steed’s ears suddenly prick up. He looked ahead and saw three riders galloping across the plain, cast in the dying light of the sun.

As the riders approached, Li Dapu recognized them. His expression shifted; a sense of foreboding seized him.

He called out in a loud voice, “Heku! Where is Moke? Did you encounter the enemy?”

Of the three, only one was his bodyguard; the other two were covered in blood, swaying in their saddles, barely conscious, and could have collapsed at any moment.

At his shout, one of them seemed to regain his senses, slipping from his horse and stumbling forward.

Li Dapu’s face darkened as he spurred his horse ahead, barking impatiently, “What happened? Is Moke dead or alive?”

The rider called Heku, his body caked in blood, fell to his knees, sobbing, “Master, master! The Tang killed him…”

At these words, Li Dapu felt the world spin. His massive hands grasped at the air, then fell limply to his sides. He could hardly believe his ears. “Moke, Moke… he… he…” He stammered, unable to finish. Thinking of his son’s bold, fearless spirit, the chieftain’s usual cold composure vanished. Blood spurted from his mouth in a great red gush.

He dismounted, seized Heku by the collar, and lifted him like a chick. He struck him hard across the face, four slaps in all, roaring, “Who? Who was it? Who killed my Moke? Who?”

Ignoring his swollen cheeks, Heku shivered uncontrollably, blurting out, “He… he said… his name is Pei Min.”

Pei Min?

Li Dapu prided himself on knowing every detail of Youzhou affairs. He rifled through every name in his mind, from governor to officers, but found no one by that name. He turned to Lai Wu.

Lai Wu shook his head.

Suddenly, Li Dapu shuddered from head to toe, exclaiming, “Just one man? Not an army?”

Terror etched on his face, Heku replied, “One man, one sword!”