The next few months were filled with uneventful, relentless work. The journey to Yingchuan was uneventful after the chaos on Black Wind Ridge. The estate itself was a sprawling, inefficient enterprise, its defenses dated and more suited to deterring roving peasants than organized threats. My plans, for a redesigned outer wall with bastions providing overlapping fields of archery, for a new gatehouse, and for a small, well-drilled watch, were met with the quiet, grudging respect of the estate's old managers. Lord Feng's seal opened every door and loosened every purse string. I spent the final weeks personally drilling the new watch, instilling a discipline they had long since forgotten before leaving the construction in the hands of a foreman I trusted, my duty fulfilled.

  Honestly, it was stifling work compared to the road. I'd worked with the clear understanding that every action would make its way back to Lord Feng. I'd hated every moment watching workers toil away in those mines, the work backbreaking and for most the occupation was no choice of their own.

  At nights I would sometimes wake in a cold sweat, smelling One-Eye'd Xiong's blood on my robes and feeling flesh part against my blade, like cutting through meat before it would be cooked. Gao’s face on the other hand…

  I distracted myself by teaching Xiao Qi to read and write in earnest, much to his delight. I'd spent some time looking for someone who could teach me about Qi but evidently its practitioners are relatively rare. Beyond a few who merely taught mundane meditation, it felt decidedly disappointing.

  On the bright side my drawing skills had improved considerably even if my brushwork had not. Beyond just my fiancée's face, I'd had considerably more luck with the apartment we owned together. Our slice of warmth where we spent a few happy years. I've always been much better at drawings without people in them.

  Honestly, I wasn't sure if I should be worried that I felt as if I was looking back on these memories fondly rather than worrying I wouldn't make it back ever again. I'd been thinking about ways I could leave her a message, perhaps in stone, to be found a thousand years later.

  Now, the road back to Chang'an unfolded before me. It was barely late autumn. The vibrant greens of summer had surrendered to a sweeping panorama of gold and russet. The air, once thick with humidity, now carried a crisp, clean chill that bit at my cheeks, and the sky was a higher, paler blue. Xiao Qi guided the mule confidently with a practiced hand. I had opted to walk as before, the familiar rhythm of the road a welcome respite from the endless scrolls and logistical calculations of the past months.

  We were traveling through the foothills of the Xiao Mountains, approaching the area once known as Black Wind Ridge. A sense of unease settled in my stomach, a memory of blood and desperate choices. Xiao Qi felt it too; his grip on the mule's lead tightened, and his eyes darted nervously towards the dense, darkening woods.

  But something was different. The road was busier, the few other travelers, a merchant with two laden carts, moved with a casual confidence that was absent before. Then, as we rounded a familiar bend, I saw it.

  The landscape had been altered by human hands. The road had been widened, the trees on the slopes thinned to create clear lines of sight. And set back from the road, built into the base of the cliffside, was a new, formidable-looking compound. A sturdy, functional structure of thick timber walls and a stone foundation, with a two-story watchtower that offered a commanding view of the pass. A large, freshly carved and painted plaque hung over the main gate, the black characters bold and clear against the raw wood:

  Black Wind Cliff Escorts.

  Several men in matching dark blue tunics stood guard at the open gate, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords. They were armed and alert, but their posture was professional, not predatory.

  As our cart drew closer, one of the guards, a powerfully built man with a familiar, determined set to his jaw, turned his attention to me. It was Jin, the fiercer of the two brothers I recruited. His face was clean-shaven now, his hair tied back neatly, and he carried himself with a newfound discipline, but his eyes still held a warrior's intensity.

  He did not recognize me. To him, I was just another traveler in humble linen robes, my face unremarkable, my status unknown. He watched my approach, his gaze sweeping over me, Xiao Qi, and our simple cart in a single, practiced assessment.

  I should have felt happier, but I couldn't push Gao's image from my mind.

  My hands moved instinctively, forming the formal martial greeting, my right fist pressed into my open left palm. I gave Jin a respectful bow.

  As I performed the formal bow, Jin's eyes, which had been conducting a routine, slightly bored sweep of the road, snapped into sharp focus. A flicker of surprise crossed his face, quickly followed by a look of dawning respect. He straightened from his relaxed guard's posture, his back now ramrod straight.

  He returned the gesture, his own movements less elegant but solid and correct. He brought a calloused, scarred fist to his palm with a decisive motion, giving me a short, deep nod. The other guards at the gate noticed the formal exchange and their casual chatter ceased, their attention now drawn to me.

  “That is a respectful greeting for a dusty road, brother,” Jin said, his voice a gravelly rumble that was no longer dismissive but carried a note of genuine curiosity. He lowered his hands, but his gaze remained fixed on me, assessing the strange contradiction of my humble clothes and my formal, martial etiquette. “Not many travelers show such courtesy. Are you a practitioner?”

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Just a humble traveler in my own right, brother,” I said, letting a weary but friendly smile touch my lips. “One who would appreciate an escort. How far do you take travelers, and how much do I need to pay?”

  “A humble traveler who knows his courtesies,” he said, his posture relaxing as he shifted into the role of a businessman. “Fair enough, brother. You want an escort, you've come to the right place.” He gestured with his thumb towards the large plaque bearing their name, a clear note of pride in his voice. “This is the Black Wind Cliff Escorts. We guarantee safe passage through the entire Xiao pass, all the way to the northern plains. A two-day journey.”

  He pushed himself off the post, his tone all business now. “Our protection is guaranteed. For a single traveler with a small cart, our rate is fifty copper coins. Two of my brothers will see you safely to the edge of the mountains.” He looked me in the eye. "What do you say?"

  “Sounds reasonable,” I replied, and with a flick of my wrist, I tossed him a heavy string of two hundred copper coins. “That would be for two travelers, a tip, and good conversation.”

  Jin deftly caught the heavy string of coins. He weighed it in his hand, a broad, appreciative grin spreading across his face. The amount was far more than required, a clear signal that spoke louder than words.

  “Haha! A generous man indeed!” he exclaimed, his professional demeanor melting into genuine warmth. “We thank you for your patronage, brother. The Black Wind Cliff Escorts always appreciate a satisfied customer.” He secured the coin string to his belt.

  He turned and bellowed towards the compound. “Wei! Wang Er! On your feet! Escort duty!”

  Two men emerged from the shade of the gatehouse and I recognized them as Old Wei and Wang Er. They both carried sturdy spears and had a disciplined air about them at last.

  “See this brother and his boy safely to the north end of the pass,” Jin instructed them. “He's a generous man, so treat him with respect and keep your eyes sharp.”

  Old Wei and Wang Er nodded, falling into step on either side of our cart as Xiao Qi and I began moving again. For a few minutes, the only sounds were the creak of the cart's wheels and the crunch of feet on the gravel road. Then, as promised, the conversation began. It was Old Man Wei who spoke first, his voice raspy but calm.

  “It's a good thing you hired us, sir,” he said, his eyes scanning the wooded slopes. “The road is safe now, safer than it's been in my lifetime, but a wise man never travels these hills alone.” He shook his head, a small, wry smile on his lips. He glanced at me, his expression open and conversational. “So, what brings a traveler like yourself all the way from the east?”

  “Work in Yingchuan, a new wall for a minister's estates,” I said smoothly, a genuine pleasure blooming in my chest at how well my men had taken my words to heart. “I'm just glad I do not have to pay that damned road tax anymore.”

  Old Wei nodded respectfully at the mention of work.

  “That damned road tax!” Wang Er exclaimed “It was nothing but theft by another name. Magistrate Wu and One-Eyed Xiong were two heads of the same greedy snake, good thing they took care of that themselves.”

  Wang Er puffed out his chest with pride. “And we escorted the county's tax wagon and the magistrate's wounded guard all the way to the capital ourselves. The new magistrate knows we are men of our word. Now,” he slapped the shaft of his spear, “we protect this road.”

  Old Wei looked out at the passing scenery, a thoughtful expression on his weathered face. “Our Master gave us more than a reward. He gave us a way to live with honor.”

  They both fell silent, leaving the weight of their words hanging in the crisp autumn air. They had just unknowingly praised me for the very plan I orchestrated, confirming that my orders were followed to the letter.

  “Sounds like your master is quite the person,” I said, allowing myself a private smile. I chuckled softly to myself. “I would very much like to meet him one day.” I continued, “You must have received quite the reward for your valiance that day. Your new compound is quite impressive, to say the least.”

  A flicker of reverence crossed Old Man Wei's face at my words. “He is more than just a person, brother. He is a force of justice. A spirit of the mountain.” He sighed. “We would all like to meet him again, but he vanished as he appeared. He gave us a mission and a code phrase, and that is all we know of him.”

  Wang Er nodded fervently. “ As for the reward, yes, the Master was right and the officials generous. And the new magistrate gave us an official charter. We built this compound with our own hands and the silver we were given.”

  As we traveled, I continued the conversation, idly guiding it. I mentioned hearing stories of trouble further south, of displaced farmers. “On my way to Yingchuan, I passed a sad group from a ‘Shijia Village.' They spoke of a Baron Shi.”

  Wei's brief cheerfulness evaporated, replaced by a grim cynicism. “Ah, those poor souls. No, brother. Nothing has changed for them. A new magistrate in ShanZhou is a small fish. Baron Shi is a shark from a different ocean. The laws that bind us do not bind men like him. Their fates are decided in the capital, if they are decided at all.”

  The conversation shifted back to their operations. “We have twelve sworn brothers now,” Wang Er said proudly, eager to move to a happier topic. “We can escort a party of up to twenty through the pass. Mostly it's merchants, like yourself. Just last week we escorted a silk caravan with five wagons. The master was so grateful he paid us in silver and gave us two bolts of cloth!”

  The rest of the day passed in easy conversation.

  The two days of travel through the Xiao pass were peaceful and uneventful. In the quiet hours of the evening, I meticulously drafted a letter containing my diagrams and instructions. I sealed the thick packet carefully.

  On the morning of the third day, we reached the northern edge of the mountains. The rugged terrain gave way to rolling plains that stretched towards the horizon. The escort's duty was done.

  As Old Wei and Wang Er prepared to turn back, I stopped them. I retrieved the sealed letter from our cart and held it out to the older man.

  “On the road to Yingchuan,” I said, my voice low and serious, “I met a masked man in fine green silk robes. He told me to hire your services and to pay you generously for it. But most importantly, he instructed me to deliver this letter to you at the end of your service.”

  Old Wei took the letter, his calloused farmer's hands accepting the heavy packet with a confused but respectful expression. He saw that it was a thick, sealed document, clearly of great importance, but being unable to read, he simply looked to me for understanding. The weight of the moment hung in the air, defined not by what was written, but by the gravity of my tone.

  Soon, Xiao Qi and I were left alone on the road, the plains stretching before us, the vast metropolis of Chang'an now only a few days' journey away.

  We made a single stop at the Spirit Stone Temple, where Jìngxī and Língzhú were bored by my poetry but found great interest in my tales of Sappho and her Greek poetry, as we shared a pot of tea. Here I suddenly felt better than I had for weeks before.

  Then that evening we were in Chang'an.