On the city wall, secret agents unholstered their crossbows, hiding behind the battlements and intently watching the darkness below the city.

Jin Zhu paced back and forth with his hands clasped behind his back, his usual calm demeanor gone. From time to time, he would lean over the parapet to glance down, only briefly reassured after confirming Chen Ji was safe. He was like a gambler at a Pai Gow table, repeatedly checking his hidden cards after receiving a good hand, worried he might have misread them, yet also concerned his opponent might cheat or overturn the table. It was as if Chen Ji was gambling with Jin Zhu’s life, not his own.

Fortunately, perhaps due to Tianma’s presence, the Liu family members hidden among the refugees had not attempted to assassinate Chen Ji. They lay dormant and quiet like venomous insects, waiting for the hour of Mao.

Standing by the battlement, Tianma looked down and saw Chen Ji leaning against the city wall, eyes closed, meditating as if asleep, oblivious to his surroundings. Tianma looked at Jin Zhu and gestured, “A newcomer? He’s very brave, like a madman.”

Jin Zhu’s face immediately twisted into a sour expression, like a purple eggplant. “I might just regress to the Post-natal realm. This kid will get himself killed sooner or later.”

Tianma was surprised. “You actually bet on him?” A hint of pity appeared in his eyes.

Jin Zhu sighed. “Meng Ji’s secret report to the Grand Minister stated that this kid has extremely high potential as an official, ranked A-grade, just like you. I originally thought A-grade talents were hard to come by and wanted to secure him quickly, but I never expected to be ruined by him.”

Tianma thought for a moment, silently gesturing, “You want to help him become one of the Twelve Zodiacs?”

Jin Zhu nodded.

Tianma gestured again, “Is he also an orphan?”

Jin Zhu shook his head.

Tianma hesitated for a moment. “Then when should we get rid of his parents?”

Jin Zhu lowered his voice and retorted, annoyed, “Being one of the Twelve Zodiacs doesn’t necessarily mean being an orphan. Several of them weren’t, in earlier years.”

Tianma looked confused.

Jin Zhu rolled his eyes and quickly said, “No, really.”

Tianma nonchalantly glanced at the stars: it was almost the hour of Mao. Jin Zhu’s heart skipped a beat. He looked back into the city but still saw no sign of the grain carts.

The torches had extinguished.

Chen Ji slowly opened his eyes and saw the refugees before him rising one by one, like an endless, dark, withered forest. A refugee, holding a small girl in his arms, asked hoarsely, “Esteemed sir, why hasn’t the grain arrived yet? My child is too hungry to even cry.”

Chen Ji silently stood up. The little girl in the refugee’s arms had arms thinner than bamboo poles.

Chen Ji softly asked, “The floodwaters have receded, why didn’t you stay in Western Yu to cultivate the land?”

The refugee angrily said, “After the flood receded, all the land that the government had allocated somehow became the Liu family’s property. Every household had no surplus grain. While there were wealthy families in Yima County willing to lend us food, the usurious interest rates — ‘nine in, thirteen out’ — would mean our families would never recover for generations if we took them on. If there had been any other way, we wouldn’t have walked a hundred kilometers to Luocheng.” The refugee said bitterly, “We simply can’t bear the hunger anymore.”

Suddenly, someone in the crowd shouted, “Why are we wasting words with him? It’s almost the hour of Mao, and the grain we were promised still hasn’t arrived!”

“That’s right, where’s the grain?”

“He’s lying! He’s deceiving us!”

“Kill him! Break down the gate!”

On the city wall, Tianma immediately drew his bowstring taut, ready to shoot the rioting refugee leaders, but Jin Zhu pressed down his arm. Jin Zhu gritted his teeth and said, “You can’t kill them. You can’t kill everyone. If you provoke the refugees, Chen Ji will truly be doomed.”

Tianma looked at Jin Zhu and signed, “No one is listening to him. He’s dead meat. Should I give him a quick end?”

Jin Zhu urgently said, “Wait a little longer!”

In a moment, the crowd below the city wall surged like a black tide, engulfing Chen Ji. Some swung punches, some struck with hoes, others kicked. Chen Ji could only narrowly dodge the fatal attacks, retreating step by step towards the city gate, until his back pressed against the round copper rivets of the red-lacquered gate.

Jin Zhu clung to the battlement, looking down, but found that Chen Ji had been forced into the gate tunnel and was no longer visible. At that moment, inside the gate tunnel, Chen Ji caught a fist swinging towards him, stared intently at the person, and declared, “I said the grain would arrive, and it will. My life and fortune are staked right here; I’m not panicking, so why are you? Wait another quarter of an hour. If the grain still hasn’t arrived after that, you may do with me as you please.”

Yet someone in the crowd shouted, “We’ve waited all night, what more is there to wait for?”

“Kill him! Break down the gate!”

“Enter the city and plunder for food!”

Chen Ji’s expression darkened. The Liu family members were unwilling to wait any longer. But the refugees hesitated, reluctant to truly harm Chen Ji. They were just honest, simple farmers who had never truly killed anyone; their earlier shouts were mere bluster.

The next moment, a fierce-looking man moved through the crowd of refugees, stealthily making his way to the front row. From a gap, he thrust a knife directly at Chen Ji’s abdomen. In the chaos, if this knife killed Chen Ji, there would be no turning back for the refugees and the imperial court. However, the instant the knife was thrust forward, the man was astonished to find that Chen Ji had dodged it. He abruptly looked up, meeting Chen Ji’s cold gaze. Only then did the man realize that Chen Ji was not as weak as he had appeared.

However, seeing his ambush fail, the man did not hesitate. With ruthless resolve, he twisted the blade and plunged it directly into his own abdomen, then wailed as he raised his blood-soaked hands, shouting, “A murder! The officials have killed someone! Avenge me! Enter Luocheng!”

Chen Ji’s expression grew stern. This was a death warrior cultivated by the Liu family. Where was Zhang Zhuo? Why hadn’t the grain been brought yet? What accident had occurred? Did the Liu family have another plan at the granary? Conflicting emotions flooded Chen Ji’s mind. He felt trapped in a death trap meticulously designed by the Liu family. This didn’t seem like Liu Mingxian’s doing; it felt more like an impromptu move by a cunning chess master, effortlessly blocking all his escape routes with a single play. Vicious, cunning, leaving no room for escape. The opponent’s plan was interconnected, as if no matter how he struggled, he was destined to fail.

At that moment, someone shouted, “Move aside!” The crowd parted. Chen Ji looked up and saw that at the end of the pathway cleared by the refugees, dozens of people were carrying hemp ropes and lifting heavy logs, preparing to ram them into the city gate. If the city gate broke, a rebellion would surely erupt, and the deadly trap would be complete.

However, at that very moment, a clear, solitary, yet resolute sound of hooves came from behind the city gate. The clamor of the refugees was suppressed by this lone hoofbeat, leaving it the only sound in the world.

A creaking sound emerged, and the heavy vermillion-lacquered city gate behind Chen Ji was slowly pulled open from within. The refugees looked on in astonishment, their gaze passing over Chen Ji to the widening gap in the gate. Through the vermillion gap, Zhang Zhuo sat atop a black warhorse, his face and red official robe speckled with bloodstains.

Zhang Zhuo gently urged his horse forward. The warhorse snorted and stepped out of the city gate, one step at a time. With each step it took, the refugees retreated one step, until they were pressed tightly together and could retreat no further. The sight of this one man and his horse actually overwhelmed the collective momentum of thousands of refugees.

Chen Ji looked back to see that Zhang Zhuo had come alone; there were no grain carts behind him. He looked up sharply, incredulous. “Where’s the grain? Why come here without grain? To die?”

However, Zhang Zhuo sat calmly on his horse and spoke slowly but clearly, “I am Zhang Zhuo, the Prefect of Luocheng. The relief grain is on its way and will arrive here within half an hour. Everyone, retreat a hundred zhang. I will set up a gruel station below the city, and when it’s ready, everyone will receive a share by lining up.”

The refugees did not move. Without grain, no words, however grand, would suffice. They silently confronted Zhang Zhuo, their collective, silent pressure, like a solid city wall, thick and tangible.

Chen Ji’s heart sank. He whispered, “Sir, retreat slowly. My Secret Service will cover you.”

But Zhang Zhuo let out a cold snort and, incredibly, urged his horse forward again. The black tide of refugees was endless, but a lone red figure stood tall, resolute, and undeniable.

Clip-clop. Clip-clop.

The slow sound of hooves echoed in the refugees’ chests. Zhang Zhuo calmly stated, “I am Zhang Zhuo, the Prefect of Luocheng, appointed by the Emperor. Those who do not retreat will be executed by law.”

Just then, some refugees looked through the city gate and saw Xifeng and others pulling carts of grain appearing at the end of the long street. “The grain is here!”

“The grain has arrived!”

“Quick! Don’t hinder Prefect Zhang from setting up the gruel station!”

The refugees suddenly seemed to collapse, retreating like a tide.

Chen Ji let out a long, heavy breath. Zhang Zhuo halted his horse beside him, chuckling, “I thought you truly weren’t afraid of death!”

Chen Ji wearily replied, “Prefect Zhang, who in this world is truly unafraid of death? I was terrified.”

Zhang Zhuo looked down, carefully examining Chen Ji. The young man’s clothes were torn, his face bruised, and he looked utterly disheveled. After a moment, he said solemnly, “Thank you.”

Chen Ji responded, “You don’t need to thank me, Sir. It’s good that everything turned out well.”

Zhang Zhuo said gravely, “Without your warning, I wouldn’t have realized there would be a rebellion tonight. Without your delay, the refugees wouldn’t have waited for the grain. First, I thank you for saving my official position and yours, Sir Chen. Second, I thank you for saving the thousands of households behind this city gate.”

With that, Zhang Zhuo dismounted and bowed deeply to Chen Ji. Chen Ji slightly turned aside, feeling that tonight’s Zhang Zhuo was somewhat different from the Zhang Zhuo of old. He slowly spoke, “Now that Prefect Zhang is here to take charge, I should leave.”

“Wait.”

“Hm?”

Zhang Zhuo looked at Chen Ji and asked seriously, “I have great ambitions. Will you help me?”

Chen Ji smiled. “Thank you for your high regard, Prefect Zhang. I know my own limits. I can risk my life, but I’m not good at politics.”

Zhang Zhuo looked into Chen Ji’s eyes, not angered by the refusal, but instead smiled broadly. “No matter. A forced melon isn’t sweet, but if you ever change your mind, you can always find me.”

Chen Ji was puzzled, feeling as if he had heard that phrase somewhere before. He confidently replied, “I won’t change my mind.”

Zhang Zhuo laughed heartily. “Young man, don’t speak so absolutely. The only constant in this world is ‘change’.” With that, he deliberately changed the subject. “This matter, was it indeed orchestrated by the Liu family?”

Chen Ji affirmed, “Absolutely certain.”

Zhang Zhuo looked at the vast multitude of refugees. “Don’t be too quick to claim success and leave. The Liu family members are still hidden among the refugees. If they are allowed to remain concealed, further complications might arise. Tell me, do you have a way to find them?”

Chen Ji closed his eyes and contemplated. When he opened his eyes again, he replied, “There’s a method we can try.”