Yongle final year of the Southern calendar, the six Northern tribes formed an alliance. Together, they crossed the Jin Plains and assaulted the Western Capital.
The central Mei waters Chienye tribe, the northern Wong waters Bi’ro tribe, the western Lii waters Khilan tribe, the eastern Shee waters Za’yii tribe, together with the south-eastern Fanshwar Tribe, and south-western Shinran tribe, congregated six hundred thousand soldiers in front of the Gates of Qingzhou in the Last month of Yongle1 ninth year.
The Qingzhou Governor General, Huang Yupin, led the defense with thirty thousand soldiers and civilians for a hundred and forty days, until all sustenance ran dry and people exchanged children for subsistence.
By the Fifth month of the following year, the Southern Prime Minister, Wen Xi, personally arrived in Qingzhou to negotiate peace.
The North-South Treaty marked the Nineteen prefectures of Jin as “Concord Markets,” where the northern tribes could perform trade, take residence, and keep garrison.
At the beginning of the Seventh month, the six Northern tribes retreated their forces.
Qingzhou was set ablaze, and Huang Yupin took his entire family to martyrdom.
The following year, the Southern Empire changed their year title to Yongning2.
~
It had been three years since Rosürr followed Abba to the Mei waters.
Abba is a skilled smith of swords and spears. The weapons he crafted cannot be bent or snapped, they could be buried underground for three years and still be glistening when dug out, without a single scratch or rust.
Rosürr had been apprenticing with Abba since a lad. His learnings were neither good nor bad; only because he was no older than sixteen or seventeen, no one nagged him. He spends his days singing tunes and drinking Mynzi wine. His chubby round face gained him the affection of the uncles of the armory camp, who regularly brought him cakes and sweets, and told him funny stories. They laughed at his lop-sided handiwork, hence he often tried to hide them away.
But for a couple of months, these funny pieces had been appearing less and less, and now there wasn’t much to tease about.
“Rosürr has taken interest in somebody’s girl; the little hawk is learning to hunt lark, and the young man is growing to win the naan!” The uncles proclaimed their regrets.
“No! no!” Rosürr’s face flushed red. And taking the neat bundle of his blade works, he ran away in a flurry.
This day was like the rest for Rosürr, who threw himself on the ground, took out some sword hilts, and started carefully attaching them to each blade. But his heart was restless, his eyes glanced every now and then to the doorway. The work on his hand dawdled, and his ears eavesdropped on people talking about the news from the Concord Markets.
“… I was overjoyed at hearing it, and immediately bundled up all those dented sabers, but still couldn’t put my heart at ease. So I asked him again, ‘You want all of it?’ That Southerner had his brows all creased into a tangle and said feebly, “Yeah… All of it. Augh, wouldn’t I hate to buy up all the northern weapons…’ Hahahahaha! How could you possibly buy out all the swords and spears?”
“This man is dim-witted,” Rosürr concluded after hearing the gist. But he didn’t laugh, for there was something else scratching his heart, and looked at the door again.
This time, a sharp-eyed uncle caught him in the act.
“Rosürr, which girl are you seeing that’s giving you all this nerves? You are making a hole in the curtain by the door!”
“It’s not a girl!” Rosürr quibbled with a cherry face. Just then, he heard faint chloris leaf whistles coming from afar, instantly dropped everything in hand, and flew away.
Of course, no one would let this go, and all trailed after him. They heard Rosürr pant furiously and start in the most joyous tone, “You, you are here!”
The eavesdroppers sooner laughed out loud.
“All tongue-tied, and still denying it’s a girl!”
At this moment, everybody craned their necks to take a good look at Rosürr’s intended. However, from the other side of the hill, they could only see the corner of a white dress.
“Hmm, how did you get so sweaty?” A smiling voice rang across the hill.
This voice was much more enchanting than Rosürr’s; it rustled like a honey cake. However, it was indeed the voice of a boy.
It really isn’t a girl! The bulk instantly lost their enthusiasm for a good show and scattered.
There were still a few not reconciled with the fact and wanted to take another look. The white clad youth was certainly easy to identify, even for those with a bad eye; with the pair of sparkling jeweled rings on his hand and the golden bells on his ankles, one could recognize him right away.
All manner of greetings came about. Some called him the Little Warrior, some called him straight by his name, and some sent their regards to the little Lord Prince.
Qu Fongning inclined respectably in return, his frock fluttering with the billowing wind; it was a very pretty sight. Everyone was satisfied and soon scattered.
After the last person dispersed, Qu Fongning passed Rosürr a glance. “Little tailed critter,” he said lightly.
The corners of his eyes naturally drooping, even if he wasn’t making any faces, made him look a little cross.
“I told them not to follow, but they won’t listen to anything I say,” Rosürr explained worriedly, and was afraid that he would be annoyed. “I won’t let them come next time!” he said in a hurry.
Qu Fongning lifted a corner of his eye. “Must be because you have been naughty,” he said, and held out his hand. “The item I gave you last time. Is it fixed?”
Rosürr saw that he wasn’t really cross. “It’s over here,” he said eagerly. He carefully took out a cloth bundle from his purse, unfolded it, and revealed a bronze-threaded, gilded hairpin. He held it with both hands and explained: “The broken head had been fixed together with a same-colored material. It seemed to have aged considerably, so I went ahead and washed it a couple of times with soap. Does it not look brighter now?”
Qu Fongning made a noncommittal acknowledgment, took it with a passing glance, and nonchalantly stuffed it into his bosom pocket. “So it wasn’t yours,” said Rosürr, disappointed.
“The old boy’s got no interest in cheap trinkets,” Qu Fongning scoffed, searched left and right, found the largest stone, and sat down.
This location adjoined the nearby Mei waters and sat across the Jursu Heights. It was one of King Andai’s earliest enfeoffments, called the Kurze Hill. The southern hill rose in gentle slopes, and the north hill stepped precipitously in elevation. From afar, the series of grayish-white rocks, growing from the low banks all the way up the highest peak, looks liked a flock of white lambs taking turns for a drink from the hill.
Rosürr saw him taking a seat, also scrambled to plop down next to him. Qu Fongning watched the waters with his chin resting on his own hand, ignoring him. After a while, he took out a leather skin, unplugged it, and then, looking as if he had mustered up the courage, took a gulp. Before he swallowed it down, his brows furrowed into a knot. It seemed extremely difficult to intake.
“What are you drinking?” Rosürr couldn’t help being curious.
Qu Fongning finally forced down a swallow, heard, and passed over the leather skin. “Try it?” he dared.
Rosürr took it and examined. It was a bag of gooey goat milk with spots of blood. He took a close sniff, and a cloud of blackness rushed over his eyes. He nearly barfed.
Qu Fongning watched his reaction with amusement, took back the leather skin, and tilted his head for another gulp. Rosürr stood up in concern, scratched his head, and looked wanting to grab the sack and dump it into the water.
Qu Fongning watched him and grinned. “This is the good stuff that grows the body and strength, the best of the best. If you throw it out, see if I’ll bother with you ever again?”
Rosürr flushed again and sat back down. From the corner of his eyes, he studied Qu Fongning’s unfolded legs, which indeed appeared longer than his own. Naturally, his strength must therefore be stronger than his own.
Qu Fongning downed the goat milk, seemed to have become drowsy, and inclined onto Rosürr for a nap. Rosürr recounted the story of the market in a stutter, but the person on his shoulder didn’t react at all.
All my stupid mouth, if anyone else told this joke, it would’ve been really funny, Rosürr pondered vexedly.
Qu Fongning shifted sleepily.
“Rosürr, sing me a song!” he mumbled.
And Rosürr sang a part of the Mei waters lullaby:
I passed by the Mei waters,
The Mei waters wanted to keep me.
The gold threaded boots became wet,
The boats carrying suze flowers overturned,
Princess Nüsha’s green handkerchief was sodded with tears under the moon,
—It could not keep me!
~
In midsummer, the yurt’s interior baked like an inferno, and especially when the earlobe clay pots on the medicine stacks were boiling. The heat waves and smoky mists made the voices by the threshold faint and muffled.
“… So this old man thought and removed those rheumatism herbs, and added some warm healing ones instead. The little general’s body is deficient and cold. Give him some remedy in the summer now will ward off troubles in the winter, prevention prevails mending…”
Songshr had her back to the threshold. Although her hands pretended to be collecting herbs, her eyes couldn’t help glancing over. Grandpa Jorrji, with a messy white beard, was excitedly explaining medicine, with spit flying all over and four limbs gesticulating in a dance. Qu Fongning stood by his side, a head taller than Gramps, curved his wrist slightly, his eyes looked at him in full attention, and nodded along occasionally.
She looked on tenderly, but was also a little cross.
“—It’s not like he is a healer, all this grandpa is saying, he probably doesn’t understand any of it… He really is…! Why pay so much attention? If he gets encouraged and this goes on and on, you will just be so annoyed,” she brooded.
Jorrji knew nothing about granddaughter’s grievances, nor did he try to notice. He rambled on and on about the qualities of the medicine and proceeded to show him the things going in the remedy.
Songshr bit down her teeth, and cut in between the two with her head lowered.
“Medicine…” she mumbled with a tangled tongue.
Seeing Qu Fongning’s surprised expression, “Take, take it—it will be cold!” she muttered, and artlessly shoved the medicine pot into his hands.
“Go together, go together!” Jorrji went along immediately.
Songshr slipped behind the smoky stove at once, took the broken fan, and started fanning, showing that she was occupied.
Qu Fongning therefore bid farewell to Jorrji. “Then I shall be delivering the remedy to the little general.”
“Goodbye, Miss Songshr!” he raised his smiling voice.
Songshr was quiet behind the fan. After a while, making sure that he left, she finally removed the fan and glared at her grandpa.
“Gramps, why were you prattling so much?”
Jorrji regarded her with a profound half-smile and stroked his silver beard.
“Songshr, why don’t you tell gramps whom I am prattling for.”
Songshr suddenly understood Grandpa’s curious smile, was taken aback, and couldn’t say a word. She held the fan over her face and wouldn’t let it down again.
~
Wolfbend Mountain, like a prostrating alpha beast with its head held high, watched the Jursu Heights from across the waters. It was the Western Army General Ting’schi’s martial field. At this moment, under the silver lonicera banner, a side yurt stood quietly in a peaceful spot by the foot of the mountain. Kite frames laid scattered haphazardly on the precious Persian rug in the yurt. Its bone structure appeared crude in comparison to the luxuries of the environment. And a jewel-embossed gilded wooden chair stood at the end of the felt carpet, the jade on the frame reflected a warmness from the regular polish of extended use, and the adjacent round supports were made from precisely crafted metal rings and connected with a rosewood rod in the middle — it was a wheelchair.
Qu Fongning padded along the soft felt surface with his bare foot. The bells on his ankles didn’t make a single sound.
“Little General,” he called in a low voice.
The person in the wheelchair shifted slightly and spun around. General Ting’schi’s only son, Little Ting’yu, had his eyebrows furrowed and was deep in thought. Seeing Qu Fongning, his eyes lit up. “Fongning, why are you here?” he called out joyously.
“To play the doctor!” Smiling, Qu Fongning raised the medicinal bowl.
Little Ting’yu rolled the wooden wheels in a hurry. “Did Qu Lyn permit you to be here?” he enquired, taking over the medicinal bowl. His fingers were pale and weak and almost couldn’t hold it. Qu Fongning knelt, helped the bowl to his lips, served him to drink up, and finally answered with a titter. “Even if the Master disapproves, he cannot stop a disobedient slave.”
Little Ting’yu smiled as well, but creased his forehead. “You… be careful. Don’t let Qu Lyn find out. The spots where he beat you last time. Does it still hurt?”
He didn’t see clearly last time, only recalling it was approximately on the chest and shoulder area, stretched out his hand to peel his tunic, and saw that the blood scabs from Qu Lyn’s last beating had faded, only a little white mark remained.
“What about it? I am used to it,” said Qu Fongning, shaking his head.
“You are lying again, how could you possibly not be hurt from getting whipped on your body? It hurts even when I prick myself from a wood splinter,” Little Ting’yu signed, and mumbled in a low voice: “I am also a selfish person! I knew you were going to get punished, but still called you to see me. But… aside from you, I really don’t know who else I can speak to peacefully like this.”
Qu Fongning pillowed his handle. “I am happy to talk to you as well,” he said, and held his hand.
His raven black hair washed over Little Ting’yu’s kneecaps, who brushed it gently.
“At first,” Little Ting’yu moaned, “I wanted to talk to my father, to ask him to get you to our house, but…that cannot be. My family holds military power and cannot keep a single slave. Even if the King gives special permission, why would Qu Lyn let you go? You are so strong, and everyone is jealous. If I were Qu Lyn, I would also keep you by my side every day.”
“The little prince is in love with gold; he wears gold jewelry all over to show off. I am nothing but another walking bauble to him,” Qu Fongning spoke softly.
“I shall never take you as a bauble,” Little Ting’yu thought.
Qu Fongning abruptly sat up. “Speaking of gold, I almost forgot.” Taking out the repaired hairpin from earlier, he handed it to him.
Little Ting’yu was very cheered up. He examined it back and forth. “It’s well fixed!” He praised.
“This thing is so delicate; it would be a pity to let it be broken.” Qu Fongning chanted along.
“You think so too?” Little Ting’yu said happily. Turning the hairpin, he held it between the two of them. There was a magpie on the point of the pin, bronze-bodied and jewel eyed; it was extremely lifelike. He pulled a tail feather on the back of the bird, its body split open in the middle, and turned into a skinny plum blossom. The two pearls, originally the bird eyes, became the anthers of the flower.
“This is so fun! Little general, did you make this?” Qu Fongning exclaimed in amazement.
Little Ting’yu laughed. “How could I possibly make this? This is the Southerner’s work.”
Qu Fongning nodded. By this time, the Northern tribes were at the height of their power, with Chienye being the supreme dominance, and countless trophies pillaged from the rich Southern counties piled high in the houses of royalty, nobility, and military generals. Even though this hairpin was intricate, it was not an extravagant item.
Little Ting’yu lightly plucked at the plum anthers and spoke to himself:
“The year before last, General Cher Baochi took back a four zhang3 wide gold-threaded standing screen. That screen had six panels, and every panel had a beautiful story. There must have been over a hundred characters, and many more birds and flowers. Every character had eyes that could move, and every flower could bloom and fade. But now there is no more! General Cher told them to smelt it down and make a gold collar this thick, but he was annoyed at how cold it felt, and never wore it.”
He made a comparison with his thumb and index finger, and signed.
“Afterwards, I often thought about that folding screen, thought about those movable flowers and eyes—Making a kite is already very challenging for me— Those Southern craftsmen worked so hard, and put through so much blood, sweat, effort, and time, to transform a pile of dead gold into a story. And they just smelt it like that. In their hearts, don’t they have any…. regrets? Whenever father hears me saying these things, he would be angry. But regret is regret. How can you lie to your heart?”
Qu Fongning cupped his face in his hands, watching him silently. And as if awoken from his reveries, “Fongning, I said many foolish things again,” he said dejectedly.
“It’s human nature to love beautiful things. What is so foolish about it?” Qu Fongning shook his head.
“The look on the little general just now was so fascinating, I am dazzled too.” Batting his eyes, he grinned.
Little Ting’yu paused for a moment, then lowered his body and embraced Qu Fongning. Qu Fongning hurried to kneel straight and let his face be buried on his shoulders. A choked voice rang beside his ears, “Fongning… You are my… best friend.”
And all of a sudden, a scuffle broke out outside the tent. Someone was attempting to barge in but was stopped by the attendant.
A swoosh followed, the curtains lifted, and a childish face showed itself; it was Little Ting’yu’s personal guard, Tigerhead Twine. “Little General! It’s big brother Qu, the little lordling prince has come,” he called in haste.
“What do we do? Hurry go stop him.” Little Ting’yu panicked at once.
“I can’t stop him!” cried Tigerhead Twine.
Rattling, ringing sounds approached, and with a flash of golden aura, Qu Lyn’s one leg already stepped into the yurt, smiling as he entered. “Cousin, what are you doing, not letting me in?”
Little Ting’yu’s face paled in trepidation, he was considering hiding Qu Fongning behind himself, but looking around, there was not a shadow to be found.
He tried to be calm while saying, “Nothing much. I was about to turn in.” The corner of his eyes slid to the bedstead and halted.
The duvet, originally neat and tidy, had ballooned into a big bump. Qu Fongning must have hidden himself there in the plight. Silently cursing his own stupidity, he hoped Qu Lyn didn’t notice. Fortunately, because of his congenital frailness, there were always layers of furs and pelts on his bed. And if one wasn’t careful, they couldn’t spot the difference.
“Cousin retires so early. I was just thinking I was doing a disservice in coming.” Qu Lyn appeared enlightened.
“What gibberish are you talking about, why are you here?” Little Ting’yu grimaced.
Qu Lyn made a heartbroken expression. “Cousin is so cold! And here I am, coming immediately to congratulate you after hearing the good news.” Kicking away the kite frame by his feet, he sat himself down comfortably.
“Congratulate on what?” Little Ting’yu was puzzled.
Qu lyn stretched out his legs, and casually popped a candied fruit into his mouth, “Cousin, do you know Young’ching?” he asked.
Young’ching neighbors Khilan. It’s a tiny tribe on the branch of the Lii waters, and there are no more than two thousand strong men in the tribe. The tribesmen excel in spinning and their silky textile is famous on the steppes.
“I know, so what?” said Little Ting’yu, uncertainly.
Qu Lyn spoke vaguely: “Young’ching has an elder, Young something, who is an absolute lunatic. He often told people just because the Southerners could raise mulberry worms and spin silk, why should it be that Northerners must only wear roughspun and pelts? So he strived to find a silkworm that could molt even from eating grass. Then he tossed around for a decade or so, and he actually did it.”
“For real?” Little Ting’yu was shocked.
“For reals, how could it not be real?” Qu Lynn said languorously. “The Old Fox from Bi’ro, the Royal Prince Badama of Za’yii, and the Left Crown King of Fanshwar have all shamelessly sent ambassadors for inquiries. Fortunately, we side next to Khilan and have the upper hand in running a task. Counting the dates now, we should be leaving in a couple of days.”
“How would you solicit this?” Little Ting’yu became curious. “Ask him for these worms? They spent ten years of hard work on it. How could they let it go easily?”
Qu Lyn passed him a glance. An enigmatic smile hung on the corner of his lips. “Inquiries would of course be all formalities with arms-full of gold and jade, or marry out a princess or something. Or else these worms fall into somebody else’s hands; we shall be at a huge disadvantage. Cousin, guess who our Lord His Kingship is delegating to Young’ching?”
Little Ting’yu never bothered with politics. “You?” he answered flippantly.
Qu Lynn was aghast. “Please let me be! I would love to go for a power ride, but my house would be ransacked before I could get off the horse.”
When King Andai came to power, he issued an edict that prevented royal princes from keeping a single soldier, and prohibited them from delegating foreign powers or riding to war. Qu Lyn’s father Prince Qu Sharraugh held extensive land, tens of thousands of slaves, but nothing in military power.
“Then it must be General Yujien.” Little Ting’yu recognized his error and supplied promptly.
“No! Asking for his almighty for this kind of trivial business? Does our great Chienye have no other capable persons?” Qu Lyn said, waving his hands.
Little Ting’yu also waved and yielded, “I am not guessing! I have no patience for games.” He picked up the kite. While fixing a crooked wing, he scanned his bedstead with the corner of his eye. He was worried that Qu Fongning would suffocate, and he urged in his heart for Qu Lyn to leave soon.
Qu Lyn’s smile became exceedingly peculiar. “Good cousin, I think you better guess,” he dragged out his voice.
Little Ting’yu read his strange smile, his thoughts swiveled, and instantly started sweating his back, “Qu Lyn, don’t scare me! How could it be?” he asked, quaveringly.
“Cousin, is that joy or fear?” Qu Lyn grinned. “When I heard the news, I was so happy for you! Look, an official emissary from our great Chienye, the greatest tribe of the steppes, going to grace our face to that desolate wasteland of Young’ching, wouldn’t they come running with all deferential greetings and welcomes? When you are there, see any jewels you like, just say the word; whichever girl you fancy, take them. Ain’t this the greatest thing ever?”
“Nonsense. Who did you hear this from? How could it be me?” Little Ting’yu grimaced again.
“How should I know? It’s probably because they saw you like these delicate things and speak so softly and gently. If our uncles go on the mission, and the old Young’ching man sees all the curved bows and crossbows, he will probably faint on the spot, then what is there to negotiate?” Qu Lyn yawned.
Little Ting’yu was unhappy. “If you are tired, go back to your yurt to sleep! If it’s just a task to inquire about the methods of keeping silkworms, I have no qualms. I know a few ways of persuasion. However, this image of mine—I can’t even stand—What kind of honorable state image is this? When they see me, they will laugh their teeth out.”
Qu Lyn was sauntering wobbly towards the doorway. Hearing this, he smirked. “Cousin, this is what you don’t understand. Once you take a step out there and they hear you are a royal ambassador from Chienye, no one will dare to be discourteous or unperturbed. Insofar as you only cannot walk, even if…even if…Hehe, no one would dare to say a word of disrespect. Now compared to those weak countries, who love to tangle small economies with the emissaries and come up with all numbers of pitiful tricks.”
Little Ting’yu couldn’t wait for him to go faster. “Where did you get all these weird ideas? Go, go!” he shooed.
“Cousin, when you are out there, don’t forget to bring back some treasures for me! Only gold ones, none with that dumbed down bronze…” Qu Lyn persisted.
“The army divides the bounty equally. Where would I get any loot for you?” Little Ting’yu sulked.
Qu Lyn turned his head, grinning. “My dear cousin, general, please consider the efforts of my sentiments. Just keep one or two. How about it? Isn’t there any treasure which your heart desires?”
Hearing the end of that sentence, Little Ting’yu’s heart lurched. He raised his head and saw Qu Lyn’s hand, full of bracelets, waving goodbye and disappearing from the threshold.
At last, he released a long breath, pushed the wheels in haste towards the bed, and called: “Fongning, come out now!”
Calling a few times and not hearing a reply, he lifted the tall pile of comforters and pelts, but there was nothing. The concealed youth had disappeared.
~
Twilight fell on His Highness, the Royal Prince of Chienye, Qu Sharraugh’s territory, Konan state. It was quiet all around, the slaves had turned in after a day’s hard work, and only the brightly candlelit palatial ger was still ringing songs of dance and beats of lambskin drums.
The young prince Qu Lyn was playing with a petite, golden snuff bottle. When he passed the threshold of the ger, he swept a glance at the salacious dancers, and drew a long yawn, apparently not interested at all.
Behind him, the sound of the golden bells stopped as well.
Qu Lyn didn’t bother to raise his head, continuing his leisurely pace, lifted the jade embossed lid, and bit it with his toot. “How does it feel, getting off your best friend’s bed?” he murmured.
Qu Fongning subserviently followed his strides. “With all due respect to master, your humble servant does not dare to have any feelings,” he hummed.
“I told you to build a relationship with him, not to be some heart-to-heart friends. I turned my eyes for one second, and what’s with all these affectionate talks and intimate touches?” Qu Lyn smiled dryly.
Qu Fongning lowered his eyes in deference. “Just giving what one desires. If Master dislikes it, there will be no more talks and touches.”
Qu Lyn regarded him and slowly put the lid back on. “Seeing that just now, my cousin was head over heels for you, and wouldn’t give me a single good look. It’s as if we are not brothers, but you two are. What tricks have you done? Let your Lord Prince hear it.”
“The little general is pure and innocent. You just need to follow along with his words, and he will not hesitate to carve out his heart for you. Why would you need to use tricks?” explained Qu Fongning.
“Pure? Look at him, so unwilling. It’s only going to Young’ching to get some worms, and he’s scared like that. My good uncle Ting’schi is a valiant general, but the son he bore is no good. If it was me…humph! Not only some worm, even if it’s a lion eagle or a tiger wolf, I shall get it with one catch,” Qu Lyn scoffed.
Qu Fongning held his head low. “Yes, Master will accomplish all his heart’s desires.”
As they spoke, they passed piles of hay mounts until an inconspicuous old barn appeared by the side of the road. “Master, is it true that the little general will go on the Young’ching mission?” Qu Fongning suddenly inquired.
“Chances are nine out of ten, why?” said Qu Lyn.
“Your humble servant is just curious,” said Qu Fongning.
The master and slave, one after another, walked into the large barn. The barn was largely empty, save some scattered horse feeds and sheep dung, and there was nothing else.
Qu Fongning hastened forward and opened up a flap on the ground, revealing a dark threshold below. The end of the passage was lit as bright as daylight. Chants of marching and combat echoed out, troops were rehearsing in order, and the two faces straightened at once.
Qu Lyn slowly stretched his wrists. “Enough of those lovey dovey games of yours. My cousin is not one of great prospects. Don’t waste your efforts,” he instructed darkly from behind him.
“Master is right to reprimand,” Qu Fongning answered respectfully. He led into the bottom of the passage, pulled the trigger, and the barn fell back into darkness.