Fang Linyuan watched as Zhao Chu quietly walked out of the forest.

Dressed in a black robe, tall and elegant, the vast mountain sank into the night, completely becoming his camouflage, like thick mist behind him.

It was as if a mountain demon or fox spirit had slowly appeared from the deep night, transformed from black mist into a human form.

The fox spirit, now in human form, stood in front of him, its strange ears and tail hidden, silent as though it was trying to act obedient after being caught.

Fang Linyuan couldn't help but laugh in exasperation.

"When I left, didn't you promise me?" he asked. "You nodded and promised you wouldn't leave the capital."

Zhao Chu lowered his peach blossom eyes slightly, and in the dim light, only the skin on his masked face gleamed pale.

"I received your letter," he said.

"I was afraid your soldiers would hold you back."

"You..." Fang Linyuan couldn’t continue his sentence.

He wasn’t blaming Zhao Chu, but he knew Zhao Chu’s situation in the capital wasn’t stable, and there was no need to travel back and forth for him.

Although...

Although he really couldn’t help but say a few more words to Zhao Chu!

Fang Linyuan was momentarily speechless, and when he spoke again, his tone was a bit gentler.

"Isn’t it problematic for you to leave the capital so suddenly and leave things behind?" he asked.

"I've arranged everything," Zhao Chu replied.

Fang Linyuan opened his mouth, sighed after a moment, and said helplessly, "If a bunch of soldiers could slow me down, I would've died countless times at Hulao Pass. You don’t need to worry about the war."

He paused for a moment, realizing that Zhao Chu had actually helped him greatly today.

The most difficult part of his plan had been completed perfectly without bloodshed, all thanks to Zhao Chu. It had turned into a perfect trap to catch the enemy.

How could he complain about Zhao Chu not keeping his word?

Moreover...

Moreover, Zhao Chu’s current guilty look, as though he had been caught red-handed, was too pitiful!

Fang Linyuan truly couldn’t play the role of the domineering party.

"I also have some news to bring you," just as Fang Linyuan was struggling to figure out what to say, Zhao Chu took a letter from his sleeve, casually removing the mask from his face.

The mask left a faint red mark on his skin, a sign of how long he had been hiding in the mountain.

The mountain was damp and cold, with mosquitoes, snakes, and ants. Fang Linyuan knew how harsh the environment was, and Zhao Chu had silently done so much for him.

This person...

He couldn’t find the words, his movements mechanical as he took the letter from Zhao Chu.

"The mountain bandits here are mostly deserters from the Chuzhou and Yanzhou garrisons," Zhao Chu continued. "The leader, Meng Cheng, was a centurion in the army, and the second-in-command, Luan Junren, is his fellow townsman and a training officer from the Yanzhou army."

His tone was calm as he explained to Fang Linyuan, concise yet filled with vital information.

However, Fang Linyuan had difficulty tearing his eyes away from the mark on Zhao Chu’s face.

The letter in his hand was neat, but the cold, damp sensation emanating from it was palpable.

It was from the mountain’s dew and fog, and the envelope had absorbed the moisture, making Zhao Chu’s body even more soaked.

He had been afraid of the cold since he was a child...

"The reason why they weren’t identified immediately was that after the Yanzhou army failed to recapture the deserters for three months, they erased their names and household registration," Zhao Chu continued.

He seemed to understand exactly what Fang Linyuan cared about, and was fully aware of why he was still here in front of him.

Therefore, he didn’t mention the dew soaking his robes but focused entirely on the military orders Fang Linyuan had to fulfil.

After finishing his explanation, he looked at Fang Linyuan, waiting for him to open the envelope, expecting his response.

After a brief silence, Fang Linyuan finally raised his eyes and asked, "How many people did you bring?"

"Where will you stay tonight?"

*

That day, when General Fang returned to the army camp, he brought a few more people.

Several silent attendants dressed in rough cloth, and a tall merchant in a snow-white robe with a golden beast mask.

It was Zhu Yan, the owner of the Chu family business, travelling north for business, who was delayed by the war and happened to meet General Fang outside the city.

The mountain bandits had just been eradicated, and the city wasn’t very peaceful, so Zhu Yan, using their old acquaintance, asked if he could stay for a couple of days at the army camp.

Such things were common. Zhou Jia, who had heard of Zhu Yan’s name as a wealthy merchant, came to greet them. After a few polite exchanges, he took the opportunity to ask Zhu Yan for some favours, securing two boxes of the most difficult-to-get Jiangnan lipstick from the Chu family’s cosmetics line for his two younger sisters.

Zhu Yan generously agreed and even sent a few sets of the latest red jewel headpieces, promising to send them to General Zhou’s residence in the capital when he returned.

Zhou Jia was so happy that he couldn't stop smiling.

"Alright," Fang Linyuan, who had been standing nearby, finally couldn't bear it any longer and interrupted. "If you have something to say, speak it outside."

As he spoke, he turned to Zhao Chu and said, "Boss Zhu, you can stay in my tent. Soldiers will bring food for you shortly. Feel free to make yourself comfortable."

Boss Zhu nodded gracefully and thanked him.

The moment their eyes met, Fang Linyuan's lips twitched slightly.

Zhao Chu was someone who had many different faces, to the point that he was truly skilled at acting.

Fang Linyuan glanced at him, suppressing the smile that was threatening to form on his lips. He cleared his throat, adopting a more serious expression, and followed Zhou Jia out.

Zhou Jia came to find him precisely because of the matter concerning the "Thirty-Seventh Bandit Camp."

The entire mountain stronghold had been searched, and only a few locked warehouses remained. Because the items inside were likely valuable, he feared something might be overlooked or lost, so he hadn't dared to open them himself. Instead, he had taken all the keys and handed them to Fang Linyuan.

"The bandit camp also has a register," Zhou Jia said. "There are a total of 421 bandits. Thirteen are dead, about twenty or thirty are injured, and the rest have all been sent to the great prison in Ningbei County."

"The governor of Ningbei County specifically sent someone to ask if you wanted to personally interrogate these bandits."

"Of course, I’ll interrogate them," Fang Linyuan nodded. "The leaders, Meng Cheng and Luan Junren, are all still able to speak, right?"

"They’re all fine, still able to talk," Zhou Jia confirmed.

Fang Linyuan nodded and took the register from Zhou Jia’s outstretched hands.

"Bring a team of men. I’m going to the prison now," he said.

"Yes, General," Zhou Jia responded.

As Fang Linyuan walked a few steps, he suddenly seemed to remember something. He stopped, turned around, and said again.

"Boss Zhu is very particular about his food. I remember he doesn’t eat sweets, so don’t forget to remind the cook."

"...Huh?" Zhou Jia was confused. "Just a merchant, why is the general so concerned about this?"

Fang Linyuan paused slightly, then continued, "What’s the problem? It’s said that certain foods can be incompatible with one another and could even lead to death. Just avoiding trouble."

To Zhou Jia, Fang Linyuan was completely trustworthy, to the point that he didn't notice the slight evasiveness in his gaze as he looked away.

He just thought Fang Linyuan was being thorough.

"Yes! What the General says is right!"

*

Fang Linyuan met Meng Cheng in the dungeon.

Before coming here, he had already read the letter brought by Zhao Chu and had gotten a rough understanding of the man’s background.

Through the thick iron bars, Fang Linyuan sat down in front of Meng Cheng.

He sized him up.

At 32 years old, Meng Cheng was tall and strong, with broad shoulders and a muscular build. He had a layer of stubble on his face, which was now covered in dust, making him appear somewhat dishevelled. However, traces of determination could still be seen in his lowered brows.

Meng Cheng’s past achievements were also quite notable.

He had served in Fuzhou when he was a teenager. During the campaign where the eldest Princess Zhao defeated the Wokou pirates, Meng Cheng had been the helmsman of a flagship and was rewarded with military merit, rising to the position of a centurion.

(NT: The Wokou (倭寇), "Japanese pirates", were groups of pirates and raiders who operated along the coasts of China and Korea from the 13th to the 16th centuries.)

Later, after Princess Zhao returned to the capital and the threat of the Wokou was reduced, the Fuzhou Navy was significantly downsized. He and Luan Junren were reassigned to Yanzhou that year.

It was only last year that, with over a hundred soldiers, they deserted and became bandits in the Chongzhou Mountains.

Fang Linyuan had been in the military for over ten years, but he had never encountered a soldier like Meng Cheng.

A general who had military achievements and a rank, yet ended up as a deserter.

Especially in Yanzhou, where there hadn't been any battles for years.

Fang Linyuan looked at Meng Cheng for a moment, until Meng Cheng slowly lifted his eyes and met his gaze.

"Let’s talk, Sergeant Meng." The two locked eyes, and Fang Linyuan spoke calmly.

This was a title commonly used in the military.

Meng Cheng hadn’t expected Fang Linyuan to figure out his identity so quickly. His gaze froze for a moment. "You..."

"I’m really curious," Fang Linyuan continued, "why, when you became a bandit, did you not kill the soldiers who were surrounding and trying to capture you, even when you were escaping your home?"

Hearing this, Meng Cheng’s hands, bound in heavy cuffs, clenched slightly.

But he just stared at Fang Linyuan without saying anything.

Fang Linyuan remained patient, quietly waiting.

He watched as Meng Cheng’s hands clenched tightly and loosened repeatedly. Then, Meng Cheng’s moustache trembled slightly along with his lips, and in a hoarse voice, he spoke.

"General Fang," he said. "I know you. Last month, when the people of Jizhou were harmed by harsh policies, you fought for justice for them."

The terms "people" and "harsh policies," though referring to the same thing, were completely opposite in tone to the language used in the court.

Fang Linyuan was silent for a moment before asking, "Is that why you didn’t kill my soldiers?"

Meng Cheng gave a small laugh.

"General Fang, you didn’t kill my men either," he replied. "It’s just that I wasn’t skilled enough to defeat you."

His expression was calm, and his attitude gentle.

But beneath that calmness, there was an unmistakable heaviness of resignation. He had no intention of answering Fang Linyuan’s question.

Fang Linyuan folded his arms and slowly leaned back in his chair.

"Don’t you understand why I didn’t kill you?" he asked. "Sergeant Meng, if you harboured resentment towards the soldiers of Daxuan, you wouldn’t have ordered not to kill my men. But if you hold no grudge, then why, with the court's rations at your disposal, would you choose to become a bandit who burns, kills, and robs?"

"Rations?" Meng Cheng seemed to have heard a joke, repeating the word.

Fang Linyuan fixed his gaze on Meng Cheng’s expression.

Cold, mocking... and an unspeakable sorrow.

"If there’s more to this story, you can speak freely," Fang Linyuan suggested.

But Meng Cheng turned his head and looked at the narrow window of the prison cell.

Moonlight streamed through the window.

A beam of distant, unreachable light seemed to shine into the room, but it was cold and impersonal, blending with the damp, cold stone.

After a moment, Fang Linyuan heard Meng Cheng speak.

"General Fang, I know you are a good general."

His tone was slow, steady, but slightly trembling. His words came between deep, measured breaths, as if trying to calm some inner pain.

"Three years ago, when you took the first city of Longxi, my soldiers and I had already been hearing the legends about you," he said. "You were a master of warfare, and you treated the starving civilians of Longxi so fairly. They looked up to you as though you were the sky itself, and I too, viewed you in the same way."

With that, he turned to face Fang Linyuan and asked,

"But General Fang, what if the matter before you is truly something from the heavens?"

His eyes had become slightly bloodshot in the dim light of the prison. Fang Linyuan stared at him for a long time before slowly answering. "Whether it’s from the heavens or from the earth, it must be spoken of before we can find a solution."

*

Last autumn in Yanzhou felt like a nightmarish wasteland of suffering and devastation.

A meager harvest made the already cold Yanzhou even poorer. The price of grain in the markets kept rising, and starving families sold their children, yet the silver they received could only buy three dou of rice.

The price of grain was higher than the price of a human life.

But what could be done?

Yanzhou was weak, and the court had already reduced taxes repeatedly. The various counties of Yanzhou had opened their granaries to distribute food, but even the government was poor. The rations given to the people lasted no more than three to five days.

This was a natural disaster—even the imperial court had no solution.

Wild vegetables and roots in the mountains had nearly been dug out. The people were emaciated, and even the soldiers in the military camps were not much better.

With no rations left in the army, the general converted their food regular payment into silver to distribute among the soldiers. But even with those meagre wages, they could barely afford bran to fill their stomachs.

By the time spring arrived, they couldn't even afford bran anymore.

Thirty-seven of Meng Cheng’s soldiers had starved to death.

The plaque of "Thirty-Seven Strongholds" bore every word written in the blood of his fallen brothers.

Fang Linyuan listened quietly as Meng Cheng spoke. By the time he reached this part, the eight-foot-tall man covered his bearded face with his hands, unable to stop himself from sobbing.

"But… it was so clear…" His words became incoherent. "The world is just in chaos."

He said the thirty-seventh brother who starved to death was the younger brother of a fellow townsman, a boy who had joined the army with hopes of a better future.

On his deathbed, he clutched Meng Cheng’s hand and shoved a sharp dagger into his palm, begging him to cut the flesh from his own body—to feed Meng Cheng, whom he saw as an elder brother, and to feed their fellow soldiers.

But beneath his withered skin, there was nothing left but cold, unyielding bone.

That day, the skeletal Meng Cheng clutched that dagger and stormed into the general’s tent.

Inside, the general lounged with a courtesan from a city brothel in his arms, while the rich scent of fine liquor—brewed from precious grain—drifted from the table.

That day, he held the dagger and forced the general to open the granary.

But the vast warehouse was empty.

He stood there, his starving body trembling so violently that he could barely grip his weapon, while behind him, the general let out a slow, mocking laugh. "I already told you, the army is struggling too. If I had food, why wouldn’t I give it to you?" the general said. "Everyone is suffering. Just endure it, and this will pass."

At this, Meng Cheng began to sob. "We received our wages… every single coin. But they still starved to death…"

He could say no more.

Fang Linyuan had no words either.

He knew that hunger and cold were like a dull blade, grinding away at a man’s flesh and bones, cutting deeper with every passing season. From the first frost of autumn to the thaw of spring, even if dawn was on the horizon, it could still drive a man to madness.

But what he knew even more clearly was—

This made no sense.

If the army had no rations, the commanding general could have reported it to the Ministry of War at any time. The imperial court stockpiled grain for the troops every year. Why was the granary empty?

Fang Linyuan did not yet know the answer.

But he did know one thing: if this had happened to the soldiers under his command, he would have stood before the emperor himself—would have spilled his own blood on the golden steps—if that was what it took to seek justice for them.

Besides, did it matter whose soldiers they were?

Every soldier, every warhorse, was a brick in the fortress of Daxuan’s borders. If no foreign enemy had yet breached the walls, how could they allow themselves to destroy the Great Wall from within?

After a long silence, Fang Linyuan took a deep breath and said to Meng Cheng, “I understand your situation now. I still have questions for your men. In a couple of days, I will come back to see you.”

Meng Cheng hastily wiped the tears from his face.

“My brothers—you can ask them whatever you want,” he said.

“For more than half a year, we’ve never done anything to betray our conscience. We only robbed merchants passing through, and we never took more than twenty percent of their goods. Any extra grain or silver was distributed to the people of Yanzhou.”

Fang Linyuan nodded, stood up, and turned to leave Meng Cheng’s prison cell.

Just as Meng Cheng had said, every bandit interrogated afterward gave a similar account.

Since retreating to the mountains, they had never once pillaged or killed, except for a few soldiers caught in the crossfire of battle. All the goods and money they pillaged were meticulously recorded, and the keys to the entire mountain’s stores were now in Fang Linyuan’s possession—ready to be inspected at any time.

Night had fallen by the time Fang Linyuan left the Ningbei County prison.

The county governor had been waiting outside all along. When he saw Fang Linyuan emerge, he hurried forward, still stifling yawns.

“General Fang, have you finished questioning them?” he asked eagerly. “Rest assured, these bandits will remain locked up here. How they should be dealt with is entirely up to you.”

For bandits as tough as these, capture usually meant a harsh punishment. They were criminals—marauders and looters—so some suffering was expected. Both the law and common practice allowed for it.

But Fang Linyuan turned back to look at him. “No need to deal with them in any special way,” he said. “Just make sure they’re properly detained and fed three meals a day without neglect.”

“Huh?” The governor was momentarily stunned.

Fang Linyuan simply gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment, without explaining further. Instead, he said, “I still have much to interrogate. These men are not as simple as they seem—I suspect there is something critical they have yet to reveal. At a time like this, we cannot afford any mistakes.”

The governor immediately understood and repeatedly assured Fang Linyuan that he would ensure the prisoners' well-being.

Only then did Fang Linyuan feel at ease. He nodded, mounted his horse, and rode back to camp.

By now, the military encampment was dark, with all tents extinguished for the night—except for one at the very centre, where a single light flickered. From a distance, it glowed like a full moon suspended in the night sky.

Fang Linyuan lifted the tent flap and stepped inside, finding Zhao Chu sitting there.

“You’re still awake?” He sounded tired, his voice weak with exhaustion.

Zhao Chu hummed in response and lifted his gaze toward him.

Fang Linyuan sank onto the seat opposite Zhao Chu.

“There weren’t enough tents—we could only spare one,” Zhao Chu said as he poured a cup of tea and handed it to Fang Linyuan. “I let my men rest first.”

Fang Linyuan acknowledged this with a quiet hum, took the cup, and tilted his head back, downing the tea in one gulp.

Zhao Chu picked up a plate of pastries from the table and placed one in Fang Linyuan’s hand. “What did you find out? Eat something first—take your time.”

The pastries were made by Eunuch Wang, and their rich sweetness filled the air even before taking a bite. But Fang Linyuan had no appetite at all. He held the pastry in one hand, silent for a long moment before finally speaking.

“Zhao Chu, I uncovered something today—something highly unusual. I suspect that what’s behind it involves far more than just one county or one mountain.”

He looked at Zhao Chu.

The fearsome beast mask lay quietly on the small table between them, and under the warm lamplight, Zhao Chu’s strikingly delicate features reflected a soft golden glow.

Hearing this, Zhao Chu simply watched him in silence.

Fang Linyuan had not yet said it outright, but what else could his investigation have led to?

A soldier who deserted his post, became a bandit, yet acted more like a chivalrous outlaw—punishing the wicked and aiding the innocent. What forced them up into the mountains must have been an evil so great that even they were powerless against it.

He knew that Fang Linyuan could never tolerate such things.

He could not bear to see injustice, nor could he turn a blind eye to suffering. Because he was the bright sun hanging high in the sky—how could he allow himself to witness such filth and darkness?

"There is injustice, and when I see it, I feel I cannot ignore it." Fang Linyuan spoke again.

His expression was firm, yet within that firmness lay a trace of confusion. As he looked at Zhao Chu, his eyes—clear and resolute—held a hint of helplessness, so much so that Zhao Chu felt his heart tremble in response.

"But today, the man I interrogated asked me—if this is a matter of the heavens, can I still interfere?"

He continued, "Zhao Chu, would that be overstepping my bounds?"

Zhao Chu’s fingers trembled slightly.

He was purer than anything in this world. To him, what could truly be considered overstepping?

The only ones guilty of overstepping were the vile rats and monstrous serpents who failed to keep their filth hidden, forcing their sins into Fang Linyuan’s sight, staining those clear, untarnished eyes.

"No," Zhao Chu answered without hesitation.

His certainty left Fang Linyuan momentarily stunned.

"I…"

Just as he was about to explain, Zhao Chu, bathed in the warm glow of the lamplight, looked at him and opened his mouth.

"If it is a matter of the heavens, then it is the sun, the moon, the stars. If dark clouds cover the sky, then anyone who sees it has the right to reach out and clear them away. This is not overstepping. After all, beneath the heavens and the earth, without the sun, no one can survive."

He gazed at his sun and spoke these words.

--

Author’s note:

Zhao Chu: \Little Sun!/ \Little Sun!/ \Little Sun!/

Fang Linyuan: Yes! The people lost in darkness need someone to save them!

Zhao Chu: (Dejectedly puts down his glow stick...)

 

Translator : DarNan