To Luoyang, An Unexpected Encounter

Dawn, the sixteenth of March.

At the gray hour before sunrise, the city gates would not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠open until full light broke. With every preparation already finished, the remaining work was simply to pull from Subspace the goods meant for the women left behind and stack them in the reception hall.

Four horses.

Ian — the clone — would ride in Jia Xu's arms. With Jia Xu's modest combat strength and the clone combined, they would at least count as one fighter, leaving Wang Yeon and me free to fight without restraint.

Light packs were lashed to the saddles so nothing would look out of place to a stranger's eye: bows, quivers, spears. Wang Yeon and I each wore a saber and a sword at our hips; Jia Xu carried a rapier.

Even Gao Shun, who had fallen asleep late the night before, came out into the inner courtyard to see us off.

"Gao Shun, I'm counting on you. Safety first, safety second. Look after the household all the way to Wan."

"Yes, my lord. Don't worry."

I pulled her into an embrace, chests pressing together, then hugged each of the other women in turn before glancing once toward the room where the children still slept.

"With me gone, Jo Un and Jang Bi will take it especially hard. Hwa, take care of them."

"Yes, Master."

I swung up onto a Ferghana horse fitted with a modern saddle and stirrups, took the reins, and set the column in order: Wang Yeon at the head leading a spare mount, Jia Xu and the clone in the middle, myself at the rear. We walked the horses slowly through the open gate.

"Don't come out. Go back inside and rest."

"Master, you have to be careful, all right?"

I nodded.

Morning of the seventeenth.

Against the original plan, we had forced the pace the day before and already reached the vicinity of the Huai River. The road had been almost absurdly level and, against every expectation, safe — so on the first day, while our strength was still fresh, we had pushed hard.

The gates of Gang-eup County remained shut, so we put up at a small village nearby for the night. At dawn we crossed the Huai and looked out toward Mount Wangwu.

Now the mountain road waited.

"Around noon we'll reach Dongwon County on the mid-slope, my lord. We can rest at an inn there."

"Good. Ah… everything aches."

Especially the way my chest bounced with every stride of the horse. Even a sports bra would have been a nuisance; for a moment I considered binding myself the way women of this age did, then abandoned the idea. It would be unbearably tight, and Jia Xu had already warned me: bind them flat and the pressure becomes torture.

"Husband, from here on you must stay alert. Be ready to draw at any moment."

We were at the tail of the range — low hills, a county town somewhere ahead — yet the path was already climbing into true mountain country. The road itself was well kept, wide enough for two carriages abreast, but forest closed in on both sides. Ambush could come from anywhere.

"Mm."

"You — clone. From now on keep a bow in hand and watch for any sign of movement."

"Yes."

The clone answered from Jia Xu's arms.

After two hours of riding the forest only grew denser. Travelers still appeared now and then, but almost always in groups of ten or more. Hills rose ahead; a passerby had mentioned a clearing beyond the next rise, and the thought brought a thin smile.

Clop-clop.

Hooves rang loud against the packed earth. My body jolted up and down. No matter how many li I rode, I could not get used to the sheer mass of these breasts. Aside from the sex change itself, I could not alter the body — and that was its own kind of frustration.

Then the sound of weapons clashing reached me.

Wang Yeon, riding ahead, had not heard it. Neither, it seemed, had Jia Xu. The clone stayed silent. Every sense in my body snapped taut.

"Halt the horses!"

A chorus of whinnies. I eased the pace; all four mounts came to a stop.

"My lord, what is it?"

"Beyond the hill — steel on steel. Dozens fighting. Wang Yeon, hold here."

I nocked an arrow, checked the quiver on my back, took a spear in my free hand, and sprinted up the slope.

Two hundred meters later I dropped flat and peered down.

A merchant caravan?

Roughly thirty fighters in matching dress — retainers, by the look of them — ringed a cluster of wagons with swords and shields, locked in a bloody melee against what were clearly bandits.

"Hold the line! Left flank!"

At the center stood a middle-aged woman nearly six feet tall, handsome enough even at a distance, sword in hand, barking orders at her servants.

Taller than Jia Xu, even.

The bandits wore leather and carried whatever weapons they had scavenged. At the rear — closest to me — a figure who looked like their chief was screaming at the top of her lungs.

"You only had to pay the toll! A rich caravan like yours—!"

She had not wanted a fight either, it seemed, but the caravan had refused the road tax.

"How dare a pack of common thieves demand money from a caravan under my protection — No Sik's protection!"

No Sik?

The same No Sik who was said to have been Liu Bei's teacher? One of the three great generals who crushed the Yellow Turbans?

I had heard she had studied under the same great scholar, Ma Rong, as my grandfather. I remembered Wang Yeon's sigh when the Partisan Prohibitions had forced "Aunt No Sik" into retirement. Wang Yeon had been told to call her "Aunt" the way one would a husband's relative, and had spent days in her company learning a great deal. At Grandfather's funeral she had even conducted the rites before the cortege reached Luoyang from Changshan.

In every way, a woman of deep connection to us.

Born in the year 135 — thirty-five now, though she looked barely into her thirties. Beautiful, yes, but her age put her right on the knife-edge between slave and Bitch.

I shoved the useless thought aside, raised the bow, and set an arrow to the string.

Unlike the body I had used at Taechon, this was my true self; the Divine Archer trait flared awake in my mind. Even with Xiang Yu's already monstrous strength, another three-and-a-halffold force poured in. The instant I fixed on the back of the bandit chief's skull, my left hand made a series of minute, automatic corrections.

It kicks in the moment real combat starts.

The sensation of the trait moving my hand on its own was still strange. I could not afford to stand there marveling. I held my breath, felt the left hand shift again with the wind, and drew.

At Taechon the draw weight had made my right hand tremble; here the string came back to full draw as if it weighed nothing. I released.

The string cracked the air. The arrow flew in a shallow S-curve, spinning as it dropped toward the slope below. I was already nocking the next shaft and loosing into the bandits.

Whiss. Whiss. Whiss.

"Ghk—!"

The bandit chief gave a single death-scream before the arrow punched through the back of her skull and pitched her forward. Three more of the men guarding her went ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠down in turn.

"Their leader is dead! All of you — charge!"

No Sik glanced once toward my position, then ordered her caravan guards forward. The remaining twenty-odd bandits looked back, confirmed their chief was gone, and began to give ground.

"R-run! The boss is really dead!"

A man's scream, and then he spun and fled straight toward my hill — not charging, simply running for his life.

I set the bow aside and took up the spear.

"Yeon, draw. The bandits are coming this way."

"Yes!"

The caravan guards cut down eight or nine more and kept pursuing. The bandits scrambled up the slope in pure desperation. I climbed to the crest, looked down, and roared.

"I am Huang Lian of Goryeo! Drop your weapons and surrender — or I will take every last head!"

The voice rolled through the forest like thunder. Birds exploded from the trees in a panic; even I was startled by the sheer volume of the sound that had come out of my own throat.

Xiang Yu's voice was this loud?

I swung the spear once, lightly. The air cracked. Xiang Yu's body exceeded every expectation; for a heartbeat I wondered whether Jang Bi and Jo Un would ever reach this level.

I spun the weapon, leveled it downhill.

Eleven.

Exactly eleven bandits had frozen in place, milling in confusion. Another ten had hesitated a moment too long and already fallen to the charging caravan guards.

"Damn it! There's only one of them on that side — hit her!"

"Right — more of them behind us. Go!"

I snorted. Like moths diving into flame, the eleven came scrambling up the hill. The two in front — under-chiefs, by the look of them — had murder in their eyes; the nine behind them were full of fear.

Just those two… no. This is a free-for-all. Finish it clean.

Different from the bow. Sweat slicked the hand that held the spear. Through the shaft I would feel every kill. But this was my true body; every protective trait was live. I drew a long breath, stripped off the quiver and anything else that would snag, and let them fall.

Thud.

I gripped the spearhead hard with my right hand, left hand light on the shaft, and began to spin the weapon left and right as I ran — downhill, with gravity.

Even now the cumbersome chest was a nuisance, but within moments everything else fell away. Only the eleven enemies remained in my vision: crude axes, notched swords, sabers, and one man who for some reason had brought a bamboo spear. A fight I could not lose.

Thudding feet.

"Kill her! Just kill that bitch and we're clear!"

"Aaaagh!"

Cowards. The two under-chiefs deliberately slowed mid-stride so the nine would reach me first.

I kept the spear whirling.

Whoosh. Whoosh.

Even to my own ears the sound of the blade cutting air was unnerving. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Using the full rotational force, I drove the point at the throat of the lead man who came half-crouched with an axe raised.

Now the melee.

Both feet planted, I took them one by one as they entered range.

Shhk.

The sensation at my fingertips was filthy. The man still mid-swing with his axe clutched his throat, gurgling; the spear had punched straight through the cervical vertebrae.

So this is what it feels like to split bone… damn. Nothing like butchering a pig.

"Ghrk—"

I twisted with the right hand, ripped the spear free, and thrust sideways in the same motion.

Pshht.

Blood fountained from another throat. The hole was too large for hands to stop; the light went out of the bandit's eyes.

He crumpled.

A whip of motion — shhk — and for an instant the world seemed to freeze. The secondary effect of 6.0 vision kicked in: enhanced motion tracking. I thrust lightly. A man who had lunged from the side with a saber found the spear already in his throat before his own blade could close the distance; the saber clattered away.

Clang.

None of them had real martial training. Wild overhand chops, random stabs — I sighed and simply put a hole in each throat in turn.

Shhk. Shhk.

A woman came in with a lateral saber cut. I knocked the blade aside with the butt of the spear and drove the point straight into her eye, then recovered instantly. After that I simply stood in place and thrust in a kind of trance until nine corpses lay around me.

They toppled one after another.

The reek of blood hit like a wave. Adrenaline or something deeper — killing intent boiled up again. I turned toward the two bandits who had shoved their own men forward like meat. Rage and bloodlust rose so high I was barely sane.

Mental Protection?

I could have triggered it. Why bother?

I drew the sword at my left hip with my free hand and set the spear down. A thin smile. Now that I had felt bone part under a spear, I wanted the same sensation with a blade. I shifted the sword to my right hand and walked toward them.

Eyes wide with terror. They dropped their weapons and raised both hands.

But what value was there in sparing garbage like this? None.

I closed the distance at a run.

Slash. Slash.

No technique required — not against unarmed men. I stepped between them and cut left and right, aiming only for the necks. Four raised arms and two throats parted under the edge; the sensation was electric. I was already past them before the blood could spray, and a moment later the wet thuds of falling bodies reached me.

For a moment the expansion of the soul made me close my eyes; I smiled at the dizzying catharsis of it.

Running footsteps.

"All of you, return to the wagons."

"Yes, Lady No Sik."

The caravan guards who had come boiling up the slope withdrew. Someone approached; a courteous voice spoke almost at my shoulder, and I opened my eyes.

"My thanks. Without you, this would have been far uglier."

"It is an honor to meet you, Lady No Sik. I have long wished to make your acquaintance, given your reputation."

"Ho-ho-ho. Impressive — to master your killing intent so quickly. But you know me?"

Curiosity lit her eyes once she realized the stranger both thanked her and recognized her.

"I serve Young Master Ian. I am called Huang Lian; the young master is just beyond that hill with his lady mother."

"Hm? That child is here? We nearly crossed paths without knowing it."

"Pardon?"

No Sik stepped in, threw an arm around my shoulders, and started back up the hill as if the blood-spattered white martial robes and my still-clumsy spear work were nothing of consequence.

"After I became unemployed I thought of going home for a while. Then I heard Wang Yeon was looking for a tutor. The boy is Lee Ho's grandson — how could I not teach him? I meant only to visit a friend in Bing Province and then head for Changshan…"

"For someone of your stature to take an interest in our young master — we are deeply grateful, Lady No Sik."

I offered a formal clasped-fist salute. She clapped my shoulder, laughing.

"That archery of yours was first-rate, by the way. Did Wang Yeon teach you?"

The spear work had clearly looked rough to her eye. Talent twelve or not, I had only been training the spear a few years.

"Yes. From Lady Wang Yeon."

She nodded.

By then our party had carefully climbed to meet us; we came together at the crest of the hill.

"Aunt No Sik."

"Ah, Yeon. You poor child, losing a husband so young… Hm? Is that Jia Xu?"

"Lady No Sik — it has been only a few days. I took a post as a writing tutor…"

"Hahaha. Exactly the sort of person I regretted being unable to recommend while I was out of office. With you already here, what use am I?"

She grinned playfully and kept laughing. I caught the clone's eye.

"Auntie, I want to learn strategy from Teacher Jia Xu and scholarship from you. Mother said you're a master of classical exegesis. I've heard so much about you."

The clone put on a child's charm and ran straight into No Sik's arms. She scooped him up and lifted him high — shrewdly, he had not said the word "grandmother."

"You little thing. You still have so much of Ho's face in you. That fool — why choose suicide? He should have lived the way I did… Haah."

Lee Ho. Grandfather's name — the man who had held office in Luoyang and taken his own life during the first wave of the Partisan Prohibitions. She must have been close to him; a lonely shadow crossed her face.

"Aunt, please. Simply having studied under a scholar of your renown will open doors for An for the rest of his life."

"You think so?"

No Sik looked to Jia Xu — seeking the current teacher's leave.

"Lady Zigan, I cannot give the young master renown. I ask this of you as well. And I myself wish to study under Lady No Sik."

Jia Xu offered a formal salute and bowed her head. No Sik nodded.

"Where are the lot of you headed, then?"

"To Luoyang first, then on to Xiangyang. We mean to enroll An at the Water Mirror Academy…"

"Ho-ho-ho. A second Mencius's mother, right here. Dragging a child that far for his education… Very well. I'll come along. I was fretting that I would have no face left if I went home to You Province anyway. And it has been too long since I saw Sima Hui. Perfect."

One more of Liu Bei's wings clipped. No Sik's name is off the board for him now.

If I had not carefully sealed away the Chaehyang, it would have been pouring off me in waves. Her reputation was even greater than I had imagined, and that made me glad. Thirty-five or not, there were ironclad reasons to claim her. She was one of the great scholars of the age, a woman the gentry held in genuine reverence — a master of classical commentary. As a Confucian, not merely as a general, her name shone. If she opened an academy, students would throng to her gates. Should Zhuge Liang be born in the proper course of history, a single letter inviting the daughters of the Zhuge clan would bring the whole family south to Jing Province before Cao Cao ever ravaged Xu. That was the weight of her name — greater than imagination.

We crossed the Yellow River and only just managed to reach Ping County before nightfall. We had ridden at an easy pace, talking the whole way, so the second night would be spent here as planned.

"Sparring?"

"Yes, Teacher."

The clone, still nestled against No Sik, asked whether she knew the art of the sword. She nodded.

"Of course. But Sima Hui is the greater master. Since you're bound for the Water Mirror Academy anyway, learn the foundations from her first, then spar with this old woman afterward."

"Yes, Teacher."

I was glad I had left the role to the clone. He was using the acting trait better than expected, playing the child to perfection.

One large room. One child and four women — No Sik seemed to feel no particular awkwardness about the arrangement. She and Wang Yeon washed first; the clone and Jia Xu followed; I went last, then stretched out on the pallet assigned to me.

Conversation drifted across the room without pause. Whatever they found to talk about, the women chattered on and on.

Soul Purification ranked far above Mental Protection. Once the soul was cleansed, every burden of killing simply vanished.

Is this all right?

As a modern man, was it right to grow this numb to murder? That single thin question rose, lingered a moment, and then sleep took me.