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The three weddings were three brief interludes, or at least that was how it seemed. No one knew of Fan Xian’s frustration. When he thought of the hidden possibilities, Fan Xian felt his blood run cold. He was unsure what to say. He was far away in a foreign land, and Wu Zhu – the only person he could truly speak freely with – had disappeared without a trace. There was no way he could discuss this.

Some things have to be talked over, but this could not be spoken of with anyone.

To an observer’s eyes, Fan Xian seemed overjoyed. He had already begun to make preparations for returning to the Qing capital. The officials presumed Fan Xian was anxious to return to the capital and get ready for his sister’s wedding, while also attempting to derive his own benefit out of the marriage at the royal court. No one knew that beneath Fan Xian’s calm, even happy exterior, he had already rid himself of his initial astonishment and had begun to follow the steps of a plan he had drawn up a long time ago.

Yan Bingyun’s had certainly been of assistance to Fan Xian. He presumed that Yan was correct to some extent – there was no use overthinking the impossible – but at the same time, he told himself that if Ruoruo wanted to get married, then as her brother, he wanted to make sure that her marriage was a grand, happy, blessed one. Even if Li Hongcheng had gotten caught up in the Second Prince’s attempts to usurp his position, for Ruoruo’s sake, Fan Xian wanted to make sure that peace reigned in King Jing’s household.

Of course, if Ruoruo did not want to get married, then that was an entirely different story.

Having concluded his thoughts on the matter, Fan Xian was calm once more – at least on the surface.

He had visited the palace twice over the past few days, mainly to handle the matter of the first ever marriage union between the two countries since their founding. It was no small matter, and no one dared to neglect it, including Fan Xian. What made Fan Xian happy was the fact that, under pressure from the imperial concubines, Shen Zhong and Chang Ninghou had finally bowed their heads, and the spy agencies of both nations had made initial steps toward sharing the profit for goods imported into the north through irregular channels in the coming years. As part of this plan, Fan Xian – as an important figure in both the Overwatch Council and the palace treasury – was guaranteed to profit handsomely.

In truth, this in itself did not make Fan Xian feel gratified, because although his plan needed financial support from now on, the proceeds of smuggling were still not as great as he had planned them to be. What really made him happy was the fact that, since the channels needed to be changed, pressure would be put on exports from Xinyang, reducing their profits and presumably weakening the Eldest Princess’s influence as a result.

Fan Xian also understood that the reason the Eldest Princess was sitting by and watching all of this happen was because it was crucial that she cooperate with Shang Shanhu in rescuing Xiao En and his terrifying secret. It seemed that this clearly showed that the Eldest Princess’s own interests in the royal court of Qing were tied up with his. This method, which was somewhat like something Lei Feng[1] would do, left Fan Xian rather surprised.

And it was over those days that the ailing Yan Bingyun’s capability for planning manifested itself to its greatest extent. When Fan Xian received his dossier, he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of admiration. Yan Bingyun’s methods were simple, yet they were the safest, most appropriate way to ensure the greatest safety of Qing’s hidden strength within Northern Qi.

The spies of the Kingdom of Qing came in many different types; those who Yan Bingyun controlled were deep undercover, like the oil-seller, or the attendants hidden in the royal palace, or even a number of officials. There were also those who worked more openly, such as the merchants on Xiushui Street and the travelling salesmen who came from all the regions of the south. They were mainly there to do business, but as they travelled through the land, they would, naturally, feed information back to the Kingdom of Qing. As the days passed, overt and covert operatives throughout the nation all sprang into action. The intelligence system awoke from its year of hibernation, immediately revealing a formidable capability for intelligence-gathering.

Everything was prepared. Now they simply waited for Shang Shanhu to make his move.

Fan Xian and Yan Bingyun sat calmly in the diplomatic mission, drinking their wine. Fan Xian glanced at the cold-faced Yan Bingyun. “Master Yan, as you are my subordinate after all, could you not pull that face at me every day?”

“As your subordinate, I’m not going to lick your boots,” was Yan Bingyun’s cold but respectful reply.

Fan Xian smiled. He knew that he had been hidden in Northern Qi for four years, and had a number of different appearances. At the time, no one could have guessed that the gifted scholar Yun, the young son of a seafaring merchant who strolled freely through the halls of Qi’s rich and powerful families, was in fact a spymaster of the Kingdom of Qing. He was gifted in social intercourse, aided by money and power. His stony-faced expression toward Fan Xian was because he was his commanding officer, rather than someone he wanted to charm.

“They really are quite stupid in Northern Qi,” said Fan Xian, taking a sip from his teacup. “Letting you go so soon, and then letting you stay safely in the diplomatic mission for so long. If it were me, I wouldn’t have swapped you even for ten divisions of troops.” This was a quote from a story in Fan Xian’s former life, so Yan Bingyun didn’t recognize it, and had no reaction. [2]

“Perhaps they thought that the royal court was already stupid enough to exchange Xiao En for me.” Thinking about this, Yan Bingyun still seemed rather despondent. “But for Northern Qi to have Xiao En back is of no great use. Still trying to find a way to kill him – now that really is stupid.”

Fan Xian sighed. “Somebody once told me that a country is like a person. It can never be a perfect machine, and it usually changes according to the ruler’s moods. There is a difference of opinion in the Northern Qi royal family, but it’s only thanks to Ku He’s brilliance that they re-imprisoned Xiao En. If Shang Shanhu weren’t Xiao En’s adopted son, then no one would dare to challenge the decision of the royal family.”

“And you?” Yan Bingyun frowned. “On the road north, you clearly had the chance to kill Xiao En, but you let him go. Now the enemy is in Shangjing, and you want to save him. Then after he is rescued... Really, it’s quite remarkable.”

Fan Xian laughed. He couldn’t tell a soul about the secret that Xiao En held, and as that was the case, the whole process was beginning to look rather absurd.

He thought for a moment. “It is like chess,” he explained to Yan Bingyun. “Although, ultimately, you want to checkmate the enemy’s king, our pawns will take different routes, and the benefit we derive from it will be different.”

If he had killed Xiao En at Wuduhe, not only would it be impossible to know whether the pawn he was willing to sacrifice at the time would return home alive, but he would also never have any way to know where the temple was. And with this operation to rescue Xiao En, which had taken all of the Overwatch Council’s strength in the north, Fan Xian wanted to end the game in a checkmate; he hoped that having gone through so many twists and turns, he could stand to gain something that Chen Pingping had never been able to.

“Xiao En will not break out of prison, and the Brocade Guard will not be willing to kill him. After all, Shang Shanhu enjoys a great reputation within the Northern Qi military.”

“The fact that that old devil Xiao En is still alive is truly pitiful.” There was a loud sigh. “After all, he is old. He’ll never be the way he once was.”

“I don’t recommend that you make the move yourself,” said Yan Bingyun, looking at him coldly. “If Ku He really does let go of his arrogance and get involved, then how would you make it out alive?”

Fan Xian was silent. He couldn’t let anyone else hear of Xiao En’s secret. He was the only one who could take the risk of acting. He tapped slowly on the table, closing his eyes, imagining himself as a chess player moving somewhat clumsily around the chessboard. Cunning, scheming characters stood on both sides of the board. There was Ku He and the Eldest Princess, the Empress Dowager and Shang Shanhu. Compared to them, Fan Xian couldn’t measure up.

A stubborn child may have no other skills, but the one thing he does have is the courage to overturn the chessboard.

With all of their official duties concluded, the diplomatic mission and the Northern Qi royal court both breathed a sigh of relief, and began feasting vigorously. Fan Xian was no exception. In the peaceful city of Shangjing, the only unusual thing was that, along the banks of the Yuquan River, there had been a number of strange murder cases, and in the wake of these murder cases, there seemed to have been some particularly frightening cases of arson. Over the following days, the light from the fires reflected in the river waters beloved by the people of Northern Qi.

Fan Xian knew that these cases were cover-ups for something. When the Kingdom of Qing’s intelligence personnel had awoken from their year-long slumber, Shen Zhong, Provost of the Discipline Commission of the Brocade Guard, had caught their scent, and the Brocade Guardsmen hidden amongst the people of Shangjing had moved fiercely and appropriately in response.

The murders had already taken out a number of the agents that had been under Yan Bingyun’s command. After all, to be stationed in a foreign country doing business right under the enemy’s nose without alerting them was nigh-on impossible. But the intelligence network installed throughout the north had been broken into several pieces, so they did not worry that the Brocade Guard would dig up too many of their bases of operation.

So Yan Bingyun’s expression turned increasingly gloomy. The Fourth Bureau of the Overwatch Council only had a total of seventeen spies in Shangjing, and now they had made a great sacrifice for the matter involving the Eldest Princess and Xiao En. He couldn’t help but feel angry.

Fan Xian did not move to console him, nor did he say much at all. He simply continued drinking, seeking pleasure, making merry, and visiting prostitutes.

It was the sixth year of the sixth month of the sixth day of the reign of the Emperor of Qi. The three sixes made this a very auspicious day. Fan Xian didn’t believe what westerners said about the devil in his old life, so when he tied the collar button of his cloak, his fingers were stable, and he seemed full of confidence.

He carefully collected the weapons and drugs that he kept on his person. He kept some in his belt, and some on the inside of his clothes. His hidden crossbow, which could fire three bolts simultaneously, was strapped to his left elbow. The pouch containing the smoke bombs secretly created by the Third Bureau of the Overwatch Council was around his right wrist; it was the size of a finger knuckle.

Fan Xian looked at the metal box on the table under dim lamplight. He narrowed his eyes as he opened it. Inside were three pills: red, blue, and white. They looked somewhat strange.

The red pill was not small in size, but its smell was somewhat faint; one could not tell from the smell what it was made of. Many years ago, Fei Jie had left this pill behind for him, concerned about the zhenqi in his body. Fan Xian thought for a moment, then hid the pill, which looked like a dragon’s eye, in his belt.

Looking at the leftover pills, Fan Xian laughed bitterly. Changing his mind, he put them all in his belt. Perhaps he might meet with that grandmaster. If he did, then when it came to carrying things that could save his life, the more the merrier.

[1] Lei Feng (1940-1962) was a legendary Chinese soldier whose name was used as a byword for altruism and dedication.

[2] Mao Zedong, grieving the loss of his trusted lieutenant Lu Deming, is reported to have said “Return Lu Deming to me! I would not exchange him even for three divisions of troops.”