I. The Gates Open, But Not for Guests

  The twelfth day of the second month. Three quarters into the hour of the rat.

  The rain continued, though it had lessened from a torrential downpour to a fine drizzle. Li Yan crouched at the top of the abandoned pagoda south of the city, a now-soggy stalk of grass between his teeth, watching the direction of the Western Direct Gate.

  "Brother Ma," he mumbled, "how much do you reckon it costs to open Luoyang's gates at a time like this?"

  Ma Jiu lay beside him, soaked through, shivering with cold. "Wh-what cost?"

  "Toll fee." Li Yan spat out the grass stalk. "Look, normally the Western Direct Gate opens at the hour of the hare and closes at the hour of the rooster. You need documents to enter, pay taxes for carts and horses. But now? The middle of the night, gates wide open, five thousand cavalry thundering in—that's a private booking, surely? How much would a private booking cost..."

  "Brother Li!" Ma Jiu was caught between laughter and despair. "Now's not the time for arithmetic!"

  "What time is it then?" Li Yan squinted. "Curtain up on the main event."

  As he spoke, flames erupted at the Western Direct Gate!

  First, three beacon fires blazed atop the gate tower—the prearranged signal. Then, the gates truly opened. The two iron-banded wooden portals swung slowly outward, revealing the massed cavalry outside.

  The Liang Province Iron Cavalry.

  All in black armor, spears like a forest, horses snorting white steam, hooves thundering like drums. Even from over a li away, Li Yan could feel the ground tremble.

  "Good heavens," he clicked his tongue, "more spectacular than the New Year dragon dance."

  Five thousand cavalry surged through the gate like a tidal wave. But halfway through, sudden shouts of battle erupted from within the gate!

  Li Yan adjusted his position for a better view: inside the gate tunnel, two groups of soldiers were fighting. One wore the crimson uniforms of the Western Garden Army, desperately trying to close the gates; the other, also in Western Garden uniforms, fought just as desperately to keep them open.

  "Fighting among themselves?" Ma Jiu's eyes widened.

  "Now it gets interesting." Li Yan smiled coldly. "Same uniforms don't mean same loyalties."

  He recognized those trying to close the gates—they were Jian Shuo's personal troops, led by Wang Meng, the burly man who had spied on him at Green Cloud Temple. Those blocking them were Yuan Shao's men, led by a middle-aged man in scholar's robes whom Li Yan remembered seeing at Yuan Shao's poetry gathering—Feng Ji.

  The two factions clashed in the gate tunnel, blades flashing, blood flying. But the Liang Province cavalry were already pouring through, ignoring the "internal strife" as they charged straight ahead.

  The worst off were the prisoners huddled by the gate—about twenty of them, hands bound, wooden plaques hanging from their necks. Li Yan's sharp eyes caught the inscriptions: "Remnants of the Martial Guard Armor A Battalion."

  Relatives of Dou Wu's former subordinates.

  As the Liang Province cavalry thundered through, they paid no heed to whether these people lived or died. Hooves trampled, spears thrust randomly. The screams were instantly swallowed by the iron tide.

  Li Yan's hand tightened on his knife hilt.

  He wanted to jump down, to charge over, to save them. But reason told him: five thousand cavalry—one spit from each could drown him. To go down was to die.

  "Brother Li..." Ma Jiu's voice trembled.

  "I know." Li Yan gritted his teeth. "I know."

  He watched helplessly as an old man was trampled, chest caved in, spouting blood. He watched a youth run through by a spear, pinned to the ground. He watched those prisoners mowed down like straw, their bodies ground to pulp beneath hooves.

  Rainwater mixed with blood, forming rivulets on the bluestone pavement.

  Wang Meng's side was faltering. Outnumbered, forced to fight both cavalry and turncoats, they soon suffered heavy casualties. Wang Meng, surrounded by three Liang Province riders, fought desperately until a spear pierced his thigh, sending him to his knees.

  A Liang Province captain rode over, leaned down, and said something. Wang Meng spat a mouthful of blood.

  The captain smiled and waved.

  Three spears thrust simultaneously.

  Wang Meng died. His body was trampled by hooves, soon indistinguishable from the prisoners'.

  Feng Ji's side was cleverer—they'd long since retreated to the sidelines, clearing the way for the Liang Province troops. As riders passed, he clasped his hands in salute, face wreathed in smiles.

  "That Feng," Li Yan muttered, "good actor. Should be on the stage."

  Ma Jiu could watch no longer. He turned away.

  The Western Direct Gate had completely fallen. The Liang Province cavalry surged through unopposed, splitting into multiple columns and flooding toward every quarter of the city. Shouts of battle, hoofbeats, wails of grief mingled together, echoing through the rainy night.

  Li Yan took some dry rations from his robe, broke off half, and handed it to Ma Jiu. "Eat."

  "I can't..."

  "You have to." Li Yan pressed it into his hand. "Don't know how long we'll be running. Can't run on empty."

  He took a bite himself. The rations were hard and cold, but filling. While chewing, he continued observing.

  He saw the Liang Province forces split: one column toward the palace, one toward the Grand General's mansion, several others dispersed into various wards. Clearly, Dong Zhuo had a meticulous plan—to seize all key points in Luoyang at once.

  "Brother Ma," Li Yan said abruptly, "guess what He Jin's doing right now."

  "Grand General He? Probably... marshaling his troops for defense?"

  "Marshaling?" Li Yan laughed. "The troops he could marshal are either under Yuan Shao's control or already dead. Right now, he's probably counting what's left of his resources—or rather, counting how much longer he has to live."

  The words were cruel, but Ma Jiu knew they were true.

  The rain intensified again, pattering on the tiles. Below the pagoda, common folk began to flee, clutching bundles, old and young alike, running in panic through the rain. Occasionally a few Liang Province riders would chase after them—not killing, just snatching bundles, then laughing uproariously and galloping away.

  In chaotic times, human life is cheap.

  Li Yan finished his last bite of rations, clapped his hands together. "Let's go."

  "Where?"

  "Grand General's mansion." Li Yan stood. "To see He Jin one last time—and maybe pick up some scraps."

  "Scraps?"

  "Sure." Li Yan grinned, but the smile held little warmth. "The Grand General's mansion has plenty of good stuff. If Dong Zhuo can loot it, why can't I?"

  Ma Jiu knew he was joking, but had no heart to respond.

  They climbed down from the pagoda and melted into the rainy night.

  Behind them, the Western Direct Gate blazed, flames illuminating half the sky.

  Luoyang, this four-hundred-year-old imperial capital, was destined for a sleepless night.

  II. The Grand General's Final Cup of Wine

  Beginning of the hour of the ox. The Grand General's mansion.

  He Jin sat in the Grand Master's chair in the main hall, fully armored, a cup of wine in his hand. It was fine Dukang wine, but he could taste nothing.

  Three hundred personal guards stood in the courtyard outside, utterly silent. Rain drummed on their armor, a crisp, steady sound.

  Wu Kuang, covered in blood, rushed in from outside. "Grand General! The Western Direct Gate has fallen! Dong Zhuo's cavalry are in the city, heading this way!"

  "How many?" He Jin asked, his voice eerily calm.

  "At least a thousand, maybe more." Wu Kuang gritted his teeth. "Yuan Shao's men opened the side gates. Our people... can't hold."

  He Jin laughed, a laugh uglier than crying. "Good. Good, Yuan Shao. I treated him well, and this is how he repays me."

  He tilted his head back, drained the cup, and dashed it to the floor.

  Smash!

  Ceramic shards flew.

  "Wu Kuang."

  "Here!"

  "Give the order." He Jin stood, drawing his sword. "Everyone in this mansion—man or woman, old or young—if they can hold a blade, hold it; if they can lift a club, lift it. Tonight, we either break out, or we die here!"

  "Yes!"

  The order spread. The mansion erupted into activity. Servants, maids, cooks, even grooms and gardeners—all received weapons. Mostly cleavers, rolling pins, shovels.

  An old cook gripped a bone cleaver, grinning. "Grand General, this old slave has slaughtered pigs his whole life, never a man. Tonight, I'll break my fast!"

  The others laughed, a laughter tinged with tragic resolve.

  He Jin's eyes reddened. He walked into the courtyard, looking at those familiar faces. The old cook had followed him for twenty years, since his butcher days. The groom he'd rescued from a battlefield. The gardener's daughter had married just last year—he'd even provided her dowry.

  Now all would die with him.

  "Forgive me, everyone." He Jin clasped his hands and bowed deeply. "I, He Jin, am useless. I've dragged you all into this."

  "What are you saying, Grand General!" the old cook shouted. "Our lives were yours to begin with. Giving them back today—worth it!"

  "Worth it!" three hundred voices roared in unison.

  The sound carried far through the rainy night.

  He Jin wiped his face—he couldn't tell if it was rain or tears.

  Then, from beyond the mansion walls, came the thunderous shouts of battle.

  Dong Zhuo's forces had arrived.

  By the time Li Yan and Ma Jiu reached the Grand General's mansion, it was already surrounded, layer upon layer. Liang Province soldiers packed every approach, torches illuminating half the sky. The mansion gates were sealed, shouts of battle and screams emanating from within.

  "Too late," Ma Jiu whispered.

  "Not too late." Li Yan pulled him into the shadows of a corner across the street. "Just in time for the climax."

  They crouched beneath the eaves, watching the battle at the gate. Liang Province troops used a battering ram against the main gate, but it was thick and held. So they split forces to attack the flanks—through the side gates that Yuan Shao's men had opened.

  The fighting spread from the side gates, quickly engulfing the entire mansion.

  Li Yan watched He Jin's personal guards fight valiantly. Outnumbered, they resisted desperately. One guard, pierced by three spears, still managed to drag a Liang Province soldier over the wall with him. The old cook swung his cleaver, cutting down two soldiers before being riddled with arrows.

  But the disparity was too great. The Liang Province forces surged in like a flood; the guards retreated step by step.

  Wu Kuang, covering He Jin's retreat to the main hall, had only a dozen men left.

  "Grand General, go through the back gate!" Wu Kuang roared. "I'll hold them off!"

  "Go?" He Jin laughed bitterly. "Go where? All eight gates of Luoyang—which one doesn't belong to Dong Zhuo?"

  He pushed Wu Kuang aside and walked, sword in hand, to the hall's entrance. Rain lashed his face. It was cold.

  A Liang Province captain rode up and halted at the foot of the steps. It was Li Jue, Dong Zhuo's trusted general.

  "He Jin!" Li Jue shouted. "Surrender, and your life may be spared!"

  He Jin spat. "I, He Jin, am a butcher's son, but my backbone is not soft! If you're going to kill me, kill me. Save the speeches!"

  Li Jue smiled coldly and waved his hand.

  Dozens of crossbow bolts flew simultaneously.

  Wu Kuang lunged to shield him, but was too slow. He Jin took seven or eight bolts in the chest, staggered backward, and leaned against the doorframe.

  He looked down at the bolts protruding from his chest, then up at Li Jue, and suddenly smiled.

  "Tell Dong Zhuo..." he gasped, blood bubbling from his mouth. "Tell him a butcher's son... can die standing!"

  With his last strength, he hurled his sword at Li Jue.

  The sword arced through the air and embedded itself in the ground three feet before Li Jue's horse.

  He Jin breathed his last. His body slumped against the doorframe, eyes wide, staring at Luoyang's night sky.

  Li Yan, watching from the corner, clenched his fists until his knuckles cracked.

  "Brother Li..." Ma Jiu tried to pull him back.

  "Wait." Li Yan stared at the main hall.

  Wu Kuang, seeing He Jin dead, raised a howl of anguish and charged Li Jue with his blade. But he was wounded and exhausted; he was soon cut down. Two Liang Province soldiers moved to finish him, but Li Jue waved them off.

  "Keep him alive," he said. "We'll need someone from the Grand General's mansion for questioning."

  Wu Kuang was dragged away, leaving a trail of blood.

  Li Yan drew a deep breath. "Brother Ma, wait here."

  "What are you going to do?"

  "Pick someone up." With that, Li Yan slid silently from beneath the eaves and, hugging the walls, made his way toward the mansion's rear alley.

  Inside, the fighting was still ongoing but nearing its end. Liang Province soldiers began looting, ransacking chests, grabbing anything of value. Two soldiers fought over a jade ewer; their officer cut one down with a single stroke.

  Amid the chaos, Li Yan reached the back gate. Several bodies lay there—Liang Province soldiers and mansion servants. He searched through them and found Wu Kuang. Still alive, but barely.

  "General Wu." Li Yan patted his face. "Wake up. Time to go."

  Wu Kuang opened his eyes, saw Li Yan, blinked. "You... you are..."

  "Just passing through." Li Yan grinned. "Took a liking to your face. Thought I'd lend a hand."

  He hoisted Wu Kuang onto his back. Just as he was about to leave, movement caught his eye. A young maidservant, fourteen or fifteen, cowered behind a woodpile, trembling.

  When she saw Li Yan, she clapped a hand over her mouth in terror.

  Li Yan considered, then took a few碎银子 from his robe and tossed them to her. "Follow the back alley south. Don't look back."

  The girl grabbed the silver, kowtowed, and stumbled away.

  Li Yan, with Wu Kuang on his back, entered the back alley. Ma Jiu was waiting. Together they half-carried, half-dragged Wu Kuang deeper into the maze of lanes.

  Behind them, the Grand General's mansion blazed.

  He Jin's severed head was hung from the gate's flagpole, swinging in the rain.

  III. Yuan Shao's "Masterstroke" and "Miscalculation"

  The hour of the tiger. The secret chamber of Yuan Shao's residence.

  Yuan Shao sat in a grand chair, a cup of tea in his hand. The tea had long gone cold; he hadn't touched it. Across from him sat Xu You. Both listened to the rain outside and the faint shouts of battle, their expressions grim.

  "Master," Xu You finally spoke, "the Western Direct Gate has fallen. Dong Zhuo's troops have entered the city. According to plan, they should head straight for the Grand General's mansion and eliminate He Jin. Then we, in the name of 'protecting the throne,' move out, destroy Dong Zhuo, and stabilize the chaos."

  Yuan Shao nodded. "And Chunyu Qiong?"

  "General Chunyu has 'retreated' as planned, taking our men to the North Gate. He controls the gate and can support our exit at any time."

  "Good." Yuan Shao set down the cup. "Once He Jin is dead, we..."

  He was interrupted by urgent footsteps outside. A personal guard burst in, soaked through, pale as death.

  "Master! Something's wrong!"

  "Calm down!" Yuan Shao frowned. "Report!"

  "Dong Zhuo... Dong Zhuo didn't go to the Grand General's mansion! He personally led two thousand cavalry straight to the palace! He's already seized control of the palace gates. The Empress Dowager and the princes have been... invited to the Deyang Hall!"

  "What?!" Yuan Shao shot to his feet. "And He Jin?"

  "He Jin is dead. Li Jue killed him. But Dong Zhuo never went near the Grand General's mansion. He went straight to the palace!"

  Yuan Shao's mind reeled.

  He understood.

  Dong Zhuo had never followed the agreement. "Shared power," "eliminating traitors"—all a smokescreen. Dong Zhuo's true target, from the very beginning, was the palace, the Empress Dowager, the princes—the entire court!

  "Then... our men?" Xu You asked urgently.

  "Our men are still waiting for the signal. The signal that Dong Zhuo and He Jin have exhausted each other. But Dong Zhuo never fought! He went straight to the palace! The Western Garden Army is leaderless. Jian Shuo's men are dead or fled. Our men... our men don't know who to follow!"

  Chaos. Utter chaos.

  Yuan Shao's face darkened. He paced the chamber. One step, two steps, three. Then he stopped. "Where's Guo Si? Where are Guo Si's troops?"

  The guard stammered, "General Guo... General Guo Si is leading a thousand men this way. He says... he says by Dong Zhuo's order, he invites you to the palace for consultation."

  "Invites me?" Yuan Shao laughed coldly. "Invites me into a trap!"

  Xu You's face paled. "Master, flee! Now! Dong Zhuo means to take us too!"

  "Flee? Where?" Yuan Shao gritted his teeth. "All eight gates—which one isn't his?"

  "The North Gate!" Xu You urged. "General Chunyu is still at the North Gate. It's our last retreat! Before Guo Si arrives, take the secret passage out of the mansion, straight to the North Gate, and flee to Ji Province!"

  Yuan Shao hesitated. Just leave like this? He had cultivated Luoyang for years—connections, resources, prestige—all to be abandoned in one night?

  "Master!" Xu You knelt. "As long as the green hills remain, one need not worry for firewood! Dong Zhuo is a wolf; he'll show no mercy to any threat. If you don't leave now, when Guo Si arrives, it'll be too late!"

  Hoofbeats sounded outside—urgent, numerous.

  Yuan Shao finally made his decision. "Go!"

  He hastily gathered a few essentials: his seals, his tiger tally, some gold ingots. Everything else would have to be left. Xu You opened the secret door in the chamber wall. They ducked inside, the guard covering their rear.

  The passage was narrow, allowing only one stooped person at a time. Pitch black. Xu You led with a torch, Yuan Shao followed. After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, they reached the exit—a dry well in a back alley.

  They climbed out, covered in mud. The rain still fell; the alley was empty.

  "The North Gate!" Yuan Shao whispered.

  Hugging the walls, they threaded through the lanes. Distant hoofbeats and shouts of battle echoed, but grew fainter. Near the North Gate, they saw Chunyu Qiong waiting with a company of men.

  This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

  "Master!" Chunyu Qiong rode to meet them. "I've secured the North Gate. We can leave at any time!"

  "Good!" Yuan Shao mounted a horse. "Go!"

  The party charged out of the North Gate and vanished into the rainy night.

  Three li from the city, Yuan Shao reined in and looked back. Luoyang loomed indistinctly through the rain, lit by flames, wreathed in smoke, shouts of battle still faintly audible.

  This imperial capital, where he had maneuvered for years—tonight, he fled in disgrace.

  "Dong Zhuo..." Yuan Shao ground his teeth. "I will kill you!"

  Xu You rode up. "Master, what now?"

  "Back to Ji Province." Yuan Shao turned his horse. "Muster troops, contact the regional lords. Dong Zhuo acts against heaven and man; the whole realm will rise against him! I will make the world know that I, Yuan Shao, am the one to restore the Han!"

  His words rang with passion, but in his heart, he knew: this flight had cost him dearly. Governor Han Fu of Ji Province might not heed his commands. The other regional lords might not accept his leadership.

  But there was no choice. He had chosen this path; he must walk it to the end.

  The party vanished into the rain.

  Meanwhile, in Luoyang, Dong Zhuo sat on the dragon throne in the Deyang Hall—not quite sitting squarely, but alongside it—gazing down at the trembling Empress Dowager He and Prince Bian. He smiled.

  A triumphant smile.

  IV. News from Yan Province, Cui Yan's Choice

  The thirteenth day of the second month. Early morning. Dongjun, Yan Province.

  Cui Yan had not slept all night.

  She sat in her study, a map spread before her, brush in hand, yet she had written nothing. Outside the window, dawn was breaking. The rain had stopped, but the clouds had not dispersed; the sky remained overcast.

  Qingwu entered with hot tea. "Young Mistress, please rest a while. You've been up all night."

  Cui Yan shook her head. "Can't sleep."

  She was waiting for news. She had been waiting since midnight the previous night. Carrier pigeons from Luoyang arrived every hour, each message worse than the last.

  First: "Western Direct Gate open. Dong Zhuo enters city."

  Second: "Grand General's mansion surrounded. He Jin holds out."

  Third: "He Jin dead in battle. Head hung from gate."

  Fourth: "Dong Zhuo enters palace. Controls Empress Dowager and princes."

  Fifth: "Yuan Shao flees. North Gate breached."

  Now, she awaited the sixth.

  A flutter of wings at the window. A gray pigeon landed on the sill, a bamboo tube tied to its leg.

  Cui Yan hurried over, removed the tube, and extracted the paper. It was tiny, the handwriting hasty—only one line:

  "City falls. Fires rise. Slaughter. Leave quickly, do not return. —Gray Pigeon's final words."

  Gray Pigeon was her most covert operative in Luoyang, with her for ten years. This was his last message. "Final words" meant the sender was already dead, or soon would be.

  Cui Yan's hand trembled slightly.

  She held the paper to a candle flame, watching it burn, turn to ash.

  "Young Mistress..." Qingwu's eyes reddened.

  "It's nothing." Cui Yan's voice was calm. "As expected."

  She returned to the desk and spread the map again. This time, not focusing on Luoyang, but on the entire realm: Ji Province, Yan Province, Xu Province, Jing Province...

  Chaos had come. Luoyang was no longer viable. What next?

  "Uncle Fu," she called.

  Cui Fu entered, his expression equally grave. "Young Mistress."

  "How many of our people in Luoyang have we pulled out?"

  "Thirty percent." Cui Fu's voice was low. "Last night was too chaotic. Many we couldn't reach. Those we've extracted are already heading for Yan Province in batches. The last should arrive within three days."

  "Thirty percent..." Cui Yan closed her eyes. "Seventy percent remain in Luoyang."

  Some of those might already be dead. Some might be fleeing. Some might have been seized by Dong Zhuo's troops.

  In chaotic times, human life is cheap.

  "Young Mistress." Cui Fu hesitated. "Commandant Cao is here. He's waiting in the front hall."

  Cui Yan opened her eyes. "Show him in."

  She tidied herself briefly and went to the front hall. Cao Cao was already there, still in his scholar's robes, but with a long sword at his waist and keenness in his eyes.

  "Lady Cui." Cao Cao clasped his hands. "Forgive my intrusion at such an hour."

  "Commandant is too kind." Cui Yan returned the salute. "Do you have news from Luoyang?"

  Cao Cao nodded and handed her a report. More detailed than what she had received—not only Luoyang's situation, but also the movements of neighboring provinces: Yuan Shao fleeing to Ji Province, Han Fu closing his gates and refusing him entry; Ding Yuan massing troops in Bing Province; Gongsun Zan watching from You Province...

  "What is your view, Lady Cui?" Cao Cao asked.

  Cui Yan scanned the report quickly, then pondered for a moment. "Dong Zhuo controls Luoyang and holds the Empress Dowager and the princes. His next step will surely be to depose one and establish another. He claims kinship with Empress Dowager Dong, so he will surely establish Prince Xie as emperor—to legitimize himself."

  "And after that?"

  "Purges." Cui Yan set down the report. "Ministers who oppose him will be killed. Regional lords who defy him will be attacked. But his Liang Province troops, though fierce, are limited in number. He cannot fight all the regional lords at once. So he will co-opt some and attack others."

  "Co-opt whom? Attack whom?"

  "Co-opt Yuan Shao." Cui Yan smiled coldly. "Though Yuan Shao has fled, Dong Zhuo will surely send envoys to placate him, offer high office and rich rewards, to divide the regional lords. Attack Ding Yuan—Ding Yuan has Lu Bu under his command, whose valor is unmatched in the realm. Ding Yuan is Dong Zhuo's greatest threat. As for you, Commandant..."

  She looked at Cao Cao. "Dong Zhuo will either try to co-opt you or destroy you. But given your nature, Commandant, you will not bend."

  Cao Cao laughed. "You understand me, Lady Cui."

  He walked to the map, his finger tracing across Yan Province. "I wish to raise troops against Dong Zhuo, but I lack grain, funds, and weapons. Would you be willing to assist me?"

  Cui Yan had anticipated this question. She went to the desk and produced an account book. "The Cui clan has, in Yan Province, fifty thousand shi of stored grain, three thousand catties of iron goods, and two thousand bolts of cloth. I offer these to you, Commandant, for military provisions."

  Cao Cao's eyes lit up, but he quickly said, "Lady Cui is generous, but I cannot accept such gifts without recompense. Consider these supplies an investment—should I succeed, I will repay you tenfold."

  "Unnecessary." Cui Yan shook her head. "I have only three conditions."

  "Name them."

  "First: no slaughter of civilians." Cui Yan looked directly at Cao Cao. "Chaotic times require heavy measures, but the common people are innocent."

  "Agreed."

  "Second: no harm to the populace. Military campaigns inevitably disturb the people, but please restrain your soldiers. No indiscriminate killing, no looting."

  "Agreed."

  "Third: no killing of prisoners who surrender. On the battlefield, each fights for his own lord. Those who surrender shall not be slain."

  Cao Cao was silent a moment, then laughed. "Lady Cui has a benevolent heart. I admire that. These three conditions, I accept."

  He extended his hand.

  Cui Yan hesitated, then extended hers.

  Their hands clasped. A pact was sealed.

  "Additionally," Cao Cao said, "I have a question."

  "Please speak, Commandant."

  "If Dong Zhuo deposes the emperor and establishes another, in whose name should I raise troops?"

  Cui Yan thought for a moment, then said slowly: "Honor the Son of Heaven, and command the unfaithful."

  Six words. Each weighted with meaning.

  Cao Cao's pupils contracted. He stared at Cui Yan for a long moment, then bowed deeply. "Lady Cui's wisdom enlightens me. I am in your debt."

  After Cao Cao departed, Cui Yan returned to her study. Qingwu was clearing the tea things. Seeing her enter, she whispered, "Young Mistress, are we... truly binding ourselves to Commandant Cao?"

  "In chaotic times, one must choose a side." Cui Yan walked to the window, gazing north. "Cao Cao is cunning, but he has the talent to achieve great things. Yuan Shao is outwardly generous but inwardly suspicious—he will not accomplish much. As for Dong Zhuo... a mere brute. He will fall soon enough."

  "And Li..." Qingwu began, then stopped herself.

  Cui Yan knew what she wanted to ask. Li Yan, the wanderer who had saved her at the Ghost Market. Where was he now? Was he still alive?

  She went to the desk, lifted her brush to write a letter—but to where? In the end, she wrote only two words:

  Take care.

  Then she burned it.

  Some cares need not be spoken.

  V. Weeping in the Drains

  The thirteenth day of the second month. All day. Within Luoyang city.

  Li Yan, carrying Wu Kuang on his back, threaded through the alleys with Ma Jiu. Wu Kuang was badly wounded. Though Li Yan had bandaged him, he had lost too much blood and was unconscious.

  "Need a doctor," Ma Jiu said. "But all the clinics are under Dong Zhuo's control. Where can we find one?"

  Li Yan didn't reply. He was observing. The streets were in chaos—Liang Province soldiers looting everywhere, civilians fleeing in all directions. Occasional resistance was met with immediate death by the sword.

  They took shelter in a dilapidated temple, temporarily safe. Li Yan examined Wu Kuang's wounds, his brow furrowed.

  The arrow wound was in the abdomen—not fatal, but he'd lost too much blood. Worse, infection was setting in. If they couldn't stop the bleeding and counter the infection soon, he wouldn't make it.

  "Brother Li, someone's coming!" Ma Jiu whispered.

  Li Yan peered out. A squad of Liang Province soldiers was marching a group of a dozen or so youths toward the palace. The youths wore the robes of Imperial University students. Though disheveled, they held themselves straight.

  "University students?" Li Yan squinted.

  He recognized one of the young men—he'd seen him at Lu Zhi's residence. Lu Yu, Lu Zhi's son, only sixteen.

  "Save them?" Ma Jiu asked.

  Li Yan hesitated. He already had a severely wounded man. Saving more would be extremely risky.

  But looking at those young, innocent faces, he gritted his teeth. "Save them!"

  They followed stealthily. Five Liang Province soldiers, escorting twelve students along a quiet alley. Li Yan assessed the terrain: the alley had two ends, with a corner in the middle.

  "Brother Ma, go to the far end. Make some noise." Li Yan whispered. "I'll draw them over."

  Ma Jiu nodded and circled around.

  Li Yan took a small porcelain vial from his robe—lime powder from Shopkeeper Sun. He gauged the distance, and when the soldiers reached the corner, he leaped out and smashed the vial on the ground!

  Bam!

  Lime powder exploded, a cloud of white.

  "Ah! My eyes!"

  "Ambush!"

  The soldiers panicked. Li Yan charged in, short knife flashing. Two went down instantly. Ma Jiu charged from the other end, cutting down another.

  The remaining two tried to flee. The students tackled them, punching and kicking until they lay still.

  "Quick! This way!" Li Yan hissed.

  The students followed him into another alley. After two blocks, they took refuge in an abandoned dye works.

  Lu Yu recognized Li Yan. "You... you are Righteous Man Li! I saw you at my father's residence!"

  "Not the time for reminiscing." Li Yan waved. "How were you captured?"

  "We were gathered at the University, denouncing Dong Zhuo. Then Liang Province soldiers burst in and seized many of us." Lu Yu's eyes reddened. "Some were killed on the spot..."

  "You want to escape the city?"

  Lu Yu nodded. "Father is in You Province. We want to find him, muster troops, and raise an army against Dong Zhuo!"

  Admirable spirit, but terribly naive. Li Yan thought this, but said, "All eight gates are under Dong Zhuo's control now. You can't get out."

  "Then what do we do?"

  Li Yan thought. "I know a way. But it's dangerous."

  "What way?"

  "The drainage channels." Li Yan said. "Luoyang's underground drainage system connects everywhere. Some passages lead outside the city. But the layout is complex, and... there may already be others down there."

  "We're not afraid!" one student declared.

  "Fear is one thing. Getting out is another." Li Yan looked at these young men. "I'll guide you part of the way. At the exit, we go our separate ways."

  "Thank you, Righteous Man!"

  Li Yan left Ma Jiu to tend Wu Kuang and led the twelve students to a drainage entrance. It was in the southeast part of the city, a half-collapsed well shaft. Below lay a wide drainage channel.

  It was pitch black inside, with knee-deep water that stank. Li Yan lit a torch and led the way.

  After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, they heard weeping ahead.

  Many people weeping.

  Li Yan signaled the students to stop and crept forward alone. Rounding a bend, he froze.

  The drainage channel was packed with people, at least a hundred—mostly the elderly, women, and children. They huddled in corners, trembling. Some were wounded, moaning softly.

  "What's this?" Li Yan asked an old man.

  The old man looked up, eyes vacant. "Liang Province soldiers... killing everyone they see, looting everything they find. We had nowhere to hide, so we came here. But we can't stay long. Food's gone, water's gone..."

  Li Yan's heart sank.

  He had thought the drainage channel was a path to life. Now it seemed a path to death.

  "Righteous Man," Lu Yu had followed and saw the scene. He was stunned. "So... so many people?"

  "Follow me. Don't speak." Li Yan whispered.

  He continued forward, but the crowd thickened. The drainage channel had become a vast refuge, packed with fleeing civilians. Some were already dead, bodies floating in the water. Some still lived, but the life had left their eyes.

  At a fork, Li Yan stopped. He recalled Shopkeeper Sun saying that left led to a dead end, right led outside the city. But the right passage was blocked by a pile of rubble.

  "It's hopeless," a student said despairingly. "We can't get out."

  Li Yan didn't reply. He approached the rubble and examined it closely. The stones were large, but water flowed through the gaps—meaning the passage beyond was open.

  "Help," he said simply.

  The students stepped forward and joined Li Yan in moving stones. But the rocks were heavy; a dozen of them, after half an shichen, had only shifted a few.

  "This won't work." Lu Yu panted. "Too few of us."

  Li Yan thought, then turned to the refugees. "Anyone who wants to live, come help!"

  They stared at each other. No one moved.

  "Help us move these rocks, and we can get out of the city!" Li Yan raised his voice. "Out of the city, and there's a chance to live!"

  Finally, a few young men stood up and silently approached. Then more. Soon, over a hundred were working together, stone by stone.

  Many hands make light work. After half an shichen, the passage was clear.

  Beyond was indeed a narrow tunnel, barely wide enough to pass.

  "Go!" Li Yan led the way.

  The refugees scrambled after him, pushing and shoving. An old man fell and was nearly trampled; Li Yan pulled him up. A child cried for its mother; Lu Yu carried the child.

  Chaos, crowding, but a glimmer of hope.

  Finally, light ahead.

  The exit!

  The refugees surged forward with cheers. But before half had emerged, screams erupted outside.

  Li Yan's heart clenched. He rushed out. The exit was in a wooded area outside the city—but the woods held an ambush of Liang Province soldiers, about twenty of them, slaughtering those who had already emerged.

  "Damn it!" Li Yan drew his blade and charged.

  The students also rushed out, grabbing stones and sticks, fighting alongside him. Refugees scattered in all directions, but many fell to arrows, crumpling in pools of blood.

  Li Yan cut down three Liang Province soldiers, but more surrounded him. Protecting Lu Yu and the others, he fought and retreated deeper into the woods.

  The soldiers pursued relentlessly.

  Then, hoofbeats from the side.

  Another cavalry unit, about fifty strong, but wearing... not the black armor of Liang Province.

  Cao Cao's troops!

  VI. Jian Shuo's Final Path, the Mystery of the Jade Tokens

  The thirteenth day of the second month. Evening. The Western Garden Army camp.

  Jian Shuo sat in his central command tent, a cup of wine in his hand. But his hand trembled; wine sloshed onto his robes.

  Outside the tent, shouts of battle filled the air. Liang Province soldiers were besieging the camp. The Western Garden Army, which he had painstakingly built over years, had disintegrated in a single night. Yuan Shao's men had fled. He Jin's men were dead. Only his personal guards still resisted.

  But not for long.

  "Commander!" A personal guard burst in, covered in blood. "The east gate has fallen! Li Jue is leading troops in!"

  Jian Shuo smiled bitterly. "I know. You go."

  "Commander!"

  "Go." Jian Shuo waved. "Save yourself. If even one can live..."

  The guard kowtowed three times, then fled.

  The tent was empty, only Jian Shuo remained. He set down the cup and walked to his desk. On it rested a brocade box containing two jade tokens—the last two, obtained from Zhang Rang.

  Of the ten tokens, he had once assembled seven. But Li Yan had taken one, Shopkeeper Sun had hidden three, and now only these two remained.

  They would never be complete.

  Never.

  He opened the box, took out the tokens, and examined them by candlelight. Fine Hetian jade, warm to the touch, intricately carved. But behind these tokens lay countless lives.

  The lives of Dou Wu's men. The lives of the personal guards. The lives of those hunted down, silenced.

  And his own life, soon to be added.

  Footsteps outside—heavy, numerous. The tent flap was thrown open. Li Jue entered with a dozen Liang Province soldiers.

  "Commander Jian." Li Jue grinned. "Still in good health?"

  Jian Shuo tucked the tokens into his robe and turned. "General Li has come for my life?"

  "It doesn't have to be that way." Li Jue said. "Dong Zhuo's orders: surrender the tokens, pledge allegiance, and you may keep your wealth and rank."

  "Wealth and rank?" Jian Shuo laughed. "I, Jian Shuo, am a eunuch. What use have I for wealth and rank? What I want is power—to make those who looked down on me kneel at my feet!"

  "And now?" Li Jue surveyed the empty tent. "Your men are dead or fled. Your power?"

  Jian Shuo was silent.

  Indeed. His power had evaporated overnight.

  "The tokens." Li Jue extended his hand.

  Jian Shuo stared at him for a long moment, then burst into wild laughter. "The tokens? The tokens are no longer in my hands!"

  "Where?"

  "In a place you'll never find!" Jian Shuo screamed. "You'll never assemble all ten! You'll never find the secret edict! Hahahaha..."

  His laughter was manic, and as he laughed, tears streamed down his face.

  Li Jue's expression hardened. "Seeking death?"

  He waved his hand. The Liang Province soldiers surged forward.

  Jian Shuo drew his sword and fought back, but his skills were mediocre. He was quickly cut down. Blades slashed; blood and flesh flew.

  In his final moment, he glanced at the tokens in his robe and murmured, "Zhang Rang... you deceived me... you said with the tokens... I could control the realm..."

  His voice faded. He breathed his last.

  Li Jue stepped forward and retrieved the brocade box from his robe. Opening it, he found it empty.

  The tokens were gone.

  "Search!" Li Jue roared. "Dig three feet into the earth if you must, but find them!"

  The soldiers ransacked the tent, but found nothing.

  They didn't know that moments before his death, Jian Shuo had stuffed the tokens into a rat hole in the corner.

  And that rat was now scurrying through the dark tunnels, tokens in its mouth.

  Meanwhile, in the woods.

  Li Yan, protecting Lu Yu and the others, fought desperately against the Liang Province soldiers. Cao Cao's cavalry appeared suddenly, charging from the flank. Caught off guard, the Liang Province troops were quickly routed.

  The cavalry leader was a one-eyed giant, with a panther's head and circular eyes—fearsome. He rode up and looked at Li Yan. "Who are you?"

  "Just passing through." Li Yan sheathed his blade. "Thank you, General, for the rescue."

  "I am Xiahou Dun." The giant said. "By Commandant Cao's orders, I'm stationed outside the city to receive refugees and scholars fleeing the chaos. Where are you headed?"

  Lu Yu stepped forward. "I am Lu Yu. My father is Lu Zhi. I wish to go to You Province to find him."

  Xiahou Dun nodded. "I know of Minister Lu. Twenty li north, we have a camp. You can rest there and plan further."

  Li Yan shook his head. "I still have business. I need to return to the city."

  "Return to the city?" Xiahou Dun frowned. "It's chaos in there. Going back is suicide."

  "A friend is still inside." Li Yan said. "I have to get him out."

  Ma Jiu emerged from the woods, carrying Wu Kuang, who had regained consciousness but was very weak.

  Xiahou Dun examined Wu Kuang's wounds. "Badly hurt. Needs immediate attention. Our camp has military physicians who can treat him."

  Li Yan hesitated. Wu Kuang's wounds couldn't wait. But Shopkeeper Sun's tunnel was in the city—he had to go back.

  "Here's what we do," Xiahou Dun said. "Your friend comes with me to the camp for treatment. You finish your business, then come find him at the camp. Agreed?"

  Li Yan looked at Ma Jiu. Ma Jiu nodded. "Brother Li, go ahead. I'll look after General Wu."

  "Good." Li Yan clasped his hands. "Thank you, General Xiahou."

  "No need for thanks." Xiahou Dun waved. "Commandant Cao's orders: in chaotic times, save who you can."

  Li Yan's heart stirred. Cao Cao had a poor reputation, but his actions were principled.

  He watched Xiahou Dun lead Lu Yu, Ma Jiu, and the others away, then turned and re-entered the drainage channel.

  Back to the city.

  One last person to save.

  Shopkeeper Sun.

  VII. Firelight on the Pagoda

  The thirteenth day of the second month. Night. The abandoned pagoda south of the city.

  Li Yan emerged from the drainage channel and returned to the city. The streets were even more chaotic than during the day. Liang Province troops now controlled all of Luoyang and were looting house by house. Fires blazed everywhere; wails of grief filled the air.

  Hugging the walls, he made his way toward the Hall of Benevolent Healing. Halfway there, he found his path blocked—a squad of Liang Province soldiers had set up a roadblock, checking all who passed.

  Detour.

  After three detours, he reached the street where the Hall stood. The sight before him made his heart sink.

  The Hall of Benevolent Healing had been burned.

  The shop front was completely destroyed, only a blackened frame remaining. The herbs, furniture, books inside—all reduced to ash. The fire hadn't fully died; embers still smoldered in the rain, sending up wisps of smoke.

  Where was Shopkeeper Sun?

  Li Yan rushed over and searched through the rubble. No bodies. But no living person either. Shopkeeper Sun had vanished as if swallowed by the earth.

  "Looking for something?" A voice came from behind.

  Li Yan spun, short knife drawn.

  The speaker was a man in black, masked—but Li Yan recognized those eyes. The man who had tailed him in Bing Province. Four Seas Hall.

  "You." Li Yan's eyes narrowed.

  "Me." The man smiled. "Li Yan, the wanderer. We meet again."

  "Where is Shopkeeper Sun?"

  "Cripple Sun?" The man shrugged. "Don't know. When we got here, the shop was already burned, and he was gone. Maybe dead. Maybe fled."

  Li Yan stared at him. "What are you doing here?"

  "Looking for you." The man took a token from his robe—a Four Seas Hall token. "The chief invites you to be our guest. Don't worry, we'll treat you well—good wine, good food. Just hand over one thing."

  "The jade tokens?"

  "Clever." The man clapped. "Ten tokens, you have at least five, right? Hand them over, and you go free. Don't..."

  Behind him, three more men in black appeared, blades drawn, blocking Li Yan's escape.

  Li Yan laughed. "Just the four of you?"

  "We know you're skilled, Wanderer Li. So we came prepared." The man whistled.

  From street corners, rooftops, alley mouths, a dozen more men in black emerged, all holding crossbows.

  Surrounded.

  Li Yan's mind raced. Fighting was out of the question—a volley of bolts and he'd be a pincushion, however skilled. Run? They had him boxed in.

  "Well?" The man asked.

  Li Yan sighed. "I can hand over the tokens, but they're not on me."

  "Where?"

  "In a safe place." Li Yan said. "You'll have to come with me to get them."

  The man smiled coldly. "You think we're fools? Go with you into who-knows-what trap?"

  "Then what do you suggest?"

  "Here's what," the man considered. "You tell us where. We'll get them. Once we have the tokens, we let you go."

  Li Yan shook his head. "No tokens till I see you let me go."

  They were at an impasse.

  The rain started again, a fine drizzle pattering on the charred wood.

  Then, from the rubble of the Hall, a faint cough.

  Everyone turned.

  From behind the blackened counter, a figure slowly crawled out. Blackened all over, clothes in tatters, left shoulder wrapped in bloodstained cloth—Shopkeeper Sun!

  He had been hiding in the rubble all along!

  "Shopkeeper Sun!" Li Yan exclaimed.

  Sun coughed, forced himself upright, and surveyed the scene. He smiled. "Oho, quite a crowd."

  The man in black's eyes glinted coldly. "Cripple Sun, you're still alive?"

  "Tough to kill." Sun leaned on a charred timber. "The Four Seas Hall wants my disciple. Did you ask my permission?"

  "Old fool, seeking death!" The man waved. "Take him!"

  Three men in black lunged at Shopkeeper Sun.

  Li Yan wanted to help, but the crossbows were trained on him. He dared not move.

  Just as the men were about to seize Sun, he stomped on something—

  CRASH!

  The ground collapsed. Shopkeeper Sun fell into a pit. The three men, unable to stop, tumbled in after him.

  Then, an explosion from the pit, and screams.

  "Explosives!" The man's face changed.

  Li Yan seized the moment. He lunged at the nearest two crossbowmen, cutting them down, grabbed a crossbow, and fired at the others.

  Bolts flew; three more fell.

  The man rallied his men to surround Li Yan. But Li Yan had already broken out and reached the edge of the pit.

  "Shopkeeper Sun!"

  "Down here!" Sun's voice came from below. "Secret tunnel! Quick!"

  Without hesitation, Li Yan jumped. He landed in a narrow passage. Shopkeeper Sun was ahead, holding a fire starter.

  "Go!" Sun grabbed him and they ran.

  Pursuers behind them, but the passage was too narrow for more than one at a time. The pursuers got jammed, slowed.

  After about the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the passage ended at a wall.

  "Dead end?" Li Yan asked.

  Sun didn't answer. He felt along the wall, found a loose brick, and pressed.

  Click.

  The wall opened—a hidden door.

  They slipped through. Sun slammed the door shut and barred it.

  The pursuers reached it, pounding, but the door was thick.

  "Safe." Sun slumped to the ground, gasping.

  Li Yan now saw they were in a small chamber—bed, table, medicine cabinet. Maps on the wall, writing implements on the table.

  "This is..."

  "My refuge." Sun smiled wryly. "Ten years in the making. Never thought I'd actually use it."

  He coughed, spitting blood.

  Li Yan quickly examined his wounds. Arrow wound infected, plus burns. Bad.

  "You shouldn't have come out," Li Yan said while re-bandaging.

  "If I didn't, you'd be dead." Sun panted. "Four Seas Hall had this place staked out for a long time, waiting. Waiting for you to return, or for me to come out."

  "And now..."

  "Not long for this world." Sun was calm. "Arrow wound's infected. Beyond cure. That I've lasted this long is a miracle."

  Li Yan's hands stilled.

  "Don't look like that." Sun smiled. "This cripple's lived sixty-three years. Had my fill. You, boy—what's next?"

  Li Yan was silent a moment. "Out of the city. To Yan Province."

  "Yan Province? Looking for Cao Cao?"

  "Wu Kuang's in Cao's camp, recovering. I need to find him. Also..." Li Yan paused. "Cui Yan is in Yan Province."

  Sun's eyes lit up. "That Cui girl? You two..."

  "Nothing." Li Yan shook his head. "Just owe her a cup of tea."

  Sun smiled knowingly. "A cup of tea? I think it's more than that."

  He struggled to his feet, went to the medicine cabinet, opened the bottom drawer, and took out an oilpaper bundle.

  "This is for you."

  Li Yan took it and opened it. Inside were two jade tokens—two of the three Sun had hidden. Also a letter.

  "Keep the tokens. Decide what to do with them yourself." Sun said. "The letter's for you. Read it now."

  Li Yan unrolled the letter and read by the firelight:

  "Boy, when you read this, your master will be gone from this world. There are things you must know.

  First: Wei Zi, the Four Seas Hall chief, is indeed Cao Cao's man. But Cao Cao doesn't fully trust him. The matter of the jade tokens—Cao Cao has other arrangements.

  Second: The person Dou Wu's secret edict was meant to establish is not Prince Xie, but Prince Bian. He Jin died without knowing that his nephew was the late Emperor's chosen heir.

  Third: The edict is not in Armory Jiazi, but in the tomb of Emperor Shun of Han in the Mang Hills. Assemble the ten jade tokens, and they form a map—it will show the way.

  Fourth: If you have nowhere to go, you may seek out Cao Cao. But remember: Cao Mengde is useful, but not trustworthy; you may rely on him, but do not entrust yourself to him.

  The Jianghu road stretches far. Master and disciple must part. Take care."

  The letter ended there.

  Li Yan finished reading and was silent for a long time.

  Sun looked at him. "Understand now?"

  "Understand." Li Yan burned the letter. "And also more confused."

  "Normal." Sun sat back on the bed. "Things in this world—when do we ever fully understand? Confusion is good. Confusion helps you live longer."

  The pounding on the door had stopped, but now came digging sounds—they were tunneling through the wall.

  "They'll be through soon." Sun said. "There's a passage under the statue that leads to Shilipu outside the city. Take it. I'll hold them off."

  "No!"

  "Listen." Sun's gaze was stern. "I'm dying anyway. No need to take you with me. You're young. Road's long."

  Li Yan's eyes reddened.

  "Don't be maudlin." Sun waved. "Go. Oh, and when you see that Cui girl, give her my regards. Tell her the orchid seal smells nice—next time, use more."

  Li Yan knelt and kowtowed three times.

  Then he rose and went to the statue in the corner. Following Sun's instructions, he turned its base.

  RUMBLE—

  A hole opened in the floor, bottomless darkness.

  "Go down. Keep walking. Don't look back." Sun said.

  Li Yan took one last look at him, then jumped.

  The hole sealed.

  Sun sat on the bed, listening to the digging sounds drawing nearer. He smiled.

  He took the last jade token from his robe—the one he had kept hidden, not given to Li Yan.

  Then he took a small porcelain vial, uncorked it, and sprinkled its contents throughout the chamber.

  Gunpowder.

  Lots of it.

  "You Four Seas Hall whelps," Sun murmured, "Grandpa's treating you to a feast."

  He lit his fire starter and dropped it.

  BOOM!!!

  The explosion shook the heavens. The entire street trembled.

  The Hall of Benevolent Healing's ruins collapsed completely, along with several neighboring buildings, all sinking into a massive crater.

  The Four Seas Hall men—not one escaped.

  And Li Yan, running through the dark passage, heard the explosion behind him. His steps faltered.

  But he didn't look back.

  Keep walking. Don't look back.

  Those were Sun's last words.

  VIII. The Passage's End, Where Lies the Road?

  The fourteenth day of the second month. Early morning. In the passage.

  Li Yan walked in darkness for what seemed an eternity. The passage was narrow; he had to stoop. The air was thin. His fire starter had long since died; he felt his way blindly.

  In his hands he clutched the two jade tokens, plus the five on his person—seven in all. Heavy, like seven lives.

  Sun was dead. Died saving him.

  Jian Shuo was dead. For the tokens.

  He Jin was dead. For power.

  And countless unknown others—those who died at the gates, in the Grand General's mansion, in the drainage channels.

  In chaotic times, human life is cheap.

  But even grass has its value. Even grass has its dignity.

  Li Yan gritted his teeth and pressed on. Finally, the passage began to slope upward. Faint light ahead.

  The exit!

  He quickened his pace and climbed out. He was in a wooded area. The sky was lightening; the rain had stopped, but the clouds hadn't dispersed.

  He was far from Luoyang now. No shouts of battle, only birdsong and the rustle of wind.

  Safe.

  Li Yan collapsed, gasping. Something fell from his robe—the oilpaper bundle Sun had given him. Inside, besides the tokens and letter, was a small cloth bag.

  He opened it. Inside were some碎银子 and a note:

  "Boy, take this money. Buy a horse, buy some clean clothes. Even a wanderer should have some dignity. —Cripple Sun's final words."

  Li Yan stared at the note. He smiled, and as he smiled, tears flowed.

  That old man, worrying even at the end.

  He carefully folded the note and tucked it into his robe with the tokens. Then he stood and oriented himself.

  In the eastern sky, the first pale light of dawn appeared. A new day had begun.

  But in Luoyang, countless people would never see this day.

  Li Yan set off toward Yan Province.

  Behind him, in the direction of Luoyang, smoke still rose, flames still flickered.

  Beacon fires illuminated the night. Chaos had arrived.

  And he, a wanderer, carrying the jade tokens, walked an uncertain road.

  How far could he go?

  He didn't know.

  But he had to keep walking.

  Keep walking. Don't look back.