After noon, Li Jianhong takes Duan Ling to the best restaurant in the Liao empire for something to eat. Duan Ling leans on the railing and looks out onto the street. “Dad, I hear Batu’s dad beat him up a lot, and he doesn’t come see me anymore.”
“He hasn’t come to see you because he’s been locked up.” Li Jianhong says in a casual tone, “His dad, Jochi, is a violent man to begin with. Now that he’s been sent here to Shangjing as a hostage and treated with disdain, he can only take it out on his kid.”
“Then … why are there people watching outside his house and not letting anyone in?”
“They’re worried he’d run.” Li Jianhong looks across the street at what happens to be the Borjigin estate. A great number of troops are assembled inside; the security is tight.
“Yuan and Liao are getting increasingly tense at the border.” Li Jianhong explains, “They may start fighting as soon as inside this month.”
“Why do you say so?”
“It’s a guess. It’s springtime in the region north of the Altyn-Tagh right now; the Mongols have just managed to live through the winter, so at the onset of spring they must deploy their troops or they may go hungry.”
“What happens if war breaks out?” Duan Ling asks, “Will Batu be in danger?”
“The Liao emperor is underage, the empress dowager is acting as regent, and the military is in the Northern Prince Yelü Dashi’s hands, so it all depends on his mood. If he’s in a foul mood, suffers a defeat, then when he comes back he’ll give the house of Borjigin grief — even dragging the whole lot of them out for a beheading is a possibility.”
Duan Ling quickly becomes agitated, and worries the whole way home. When they get home, Li Jianhong gives this some thought. “You want to save him?”
“How? Dad, can you save him?”
Li Jianhong bends over in the courtyard to wash his face, and without even lifting his head he says, “It’s not me who’s going to save him. You’re going to save him.”
“But how am I supposed to save him?”
“Yeah.” Li Jianhong finishes washing his face and walks beneath the corridor to wipe his hands. “How are you supposed to save him? You’ll have to take some time to think about it.”
Duan Ling goes quiet for a moment before saying, “It’d be great if Lang Junxia was here, three is always better than two …”
Li Jianhong says quite solemnly, “Please don’t bring up Lang Junxia at a time like this. Your dad is at the very least the number one swordsman of Southern Chen — getting compared to a killer by my son all day long is really depressing.”
Duan Ling falls quiet again. “Um …”
“Aiyoh, just think of something, okay? You’ve read strategy books? Listened to storytellers? I’m assigning you a great warrior right now. As for how you’re going to order him around, whether as a donkey or as a dog, you’ll have to figure that out yourself.”
Duan Ling begins to laugh. Li Jianhong’s expression darkens. “What are you laughing at? A great warrior doesn’t go into action for just any little thing. In the whole wide world the only orders this master swordsman will take are yours. When we get back, you’re even going to owe me a favour.”
As he speaks Li Jianhong raises one hand and rubs his thumb and forefinger together at Duan Ling, as in once the matter is concluded Duan Ling will owe him a favour. Duan Ling’s face goes all stunned. Li Jianhong pays him no heed and heads to the back courtyard to do Duan Ling’s laundry. Duan Ling stands there staring into space for a while; when he realises what Li Jianhong was telling him, a strong feeling of excitement emerges from deep in his heart, and he runs back inside for brush and paper.
“Dad!”
“Hey, my son.” Li Jianhong answers inattentively, doing the laundry.
Duan Ling runs out; the map in his hands has a path drawn onto it, and there are also many tiny figures representing the guards outside the Borjigin estate.
“It’s a strategy map. Why’d you make the people so pretty? Just draw a few triangles.”
Duan Ling nods, and explains, “We have to get them out first, then figure out how to send them out of the city after the gates open in the morning. This is their house. Weren’t we having tea upstairs here in the afternoon?”
“Well then, where do we hide them once we get them out?” Li Jianhong asks, “Our house?”
“Our house is too far away from the city gates, and we don’t even have a cellar — it’s hard to hide anyone here. If they figure out the Borjigins have escaped, they’ll definitely search house by house; people who don’t have any business to do so won’t be able to leave the city.”
“Hm. That’s most clever of you.” Li Jianhong says offhandedly, smiling.
“What’s worrying is that they’ll seal the city tomorrow morning, so we’ll hide them — here! It’s close to the city gates, and we can send them out none the wiser!”
“This is workable! Let’s go with it. Dad’s just going to take out the rubbish, then go save them.”
Duan Ling chases after him. “You didn’t see what I was pointing at! The Illustrious Hall!”
Li Jianhong hangs up the washed clothes and throws out the rubbish. “You know the lay of the land at the Illustrious Hall, so naturally that’s the most suitable hiding spot. Let’s go.”
“Eh? Aren’t you going to cover your face? Don’t all assassins cover their faces?”
Li Jianhong says, “Only trash covers their faces.”
“Um …” Duan Ling knows if he comes along he’ll only get in Li Jianhong’s way, so he tries to hand him the map. “Follow this path …”
“Can’t remember.” Li Jianhong easily throws Duan Ling over his shoulder like a sack of rice. In two steps he’s walking up the wall, and by the third he’s on the roof, then he vanishes into the night as though walking on even ground.
Duan Ling nearly cries out, but luckily he manages to restrain himself. After running a few steps, Li Jianhong touches down on the ground again and dashes rapidly through a great number of alleyways with Duan Ling on his back. He takes a shortcut, then drops into someone’s courtyard, alarming the dog within to a bout of barking.
“Aiyoh.” Li Jianhong says, “What a huge dog. Sounds scarier than Kublai Khan.”2
Duan Ling doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Come down,” Li Jianhong says.
They’ve reached an alley next to the Borjigin estate in a flash. Li Jianhong gets down on one knee with one arm around Duan Ling’s waist, suggesting he should hold onto the emblem set into the roof ridge’s end, and stand still.
“Dad, we forgot your sword. Should we go back and get it?”
“Don’t need it.” Li Jianhong looks up at the moon. It just so happens that today is the fifteenth; a full moon illuminates the earth.
“What a bright night,” Li Jianhong mumbles to himself.
“There are shadows over there that can cover your movement.” Duan Ling points to another area of the estate. Li Jianhong hms quietly in acknowledgement.
In the alley, Khitan soldiers walk past. Duan Ling points beneath his feet to remind Li Jianhong to be careful.
Li Jianhong whispers, “Wait here,” and presses a packet of snacks into his hands, indicating that he can eat something if he’s bored. How is Duan Ling supposed to eat under these circumstances? Duan Ling stuffs it under his lapel and Li Jianhong disappears in the time it takes him to blink.
As the squad of Khitan soldiers go around the corner, the last man in line gets hand-chopped on the back of the neck; he’s dragged backwards by Li Jianhong, hiding in the shadows. Li Jianhong takes the bow and quiver off the soldier’s back, then removes the long sword at his waist. He checks the sword’s weight with one hand, then tosses it over his head. More nervous than anything, Duan Ling reaches out to catch it, and fails to do so. Li Jianhong tosses it up again. Duan Ling still doesn’t manage to catch it.
Third toss; he finally catches it.
Li Jianhong gives him a thumbs up, good job.
Duan Ling sweats with embarrassment.
Li Jianhong leaps onto the wall once more. He grabs a few of the arrows, breaks off the arrowheads and discards them, leaving behind the bare sticks, then he nocks and draws. Duan Ling’s heart is drawn up at once all the way up to this throat.
An arrow flies off and hits the top of a tree inside the garden, making a slight sound. Li Jianhong immediately turns to another tree, and after firing off three consecutive arrows in a rapid fashion, three hidden sentries are knocked out on the spot, each hanging off their respective branch. Li Jianhong vaults onto the eaves once more; with one hand pressing down on the tiles he conceals his slender figure along the edge of the roof, melting into the night.
“They’re starting to change shifts. You can go down now.” Duan Ling whispers, “We only have an eighth of an hour. Dad, do I keep waiting here?”
Li Jianhong takes the sword from Duan Ling. “We’re not taking the roof on the way back. Jump!”
Li Jianhong takes the rope he found on the Khitan soldier and throws it, looping it around an upturned eave. Duan Ling wraps his arms around Li Jianhong’s waist and the two of them swing a wide arc over the Khitan soldiers, dropping into the Borjigin estate’s courtyard.
The moment they hit the ground Li Jianhong brandishes the long sword, scabbard and all; Duan Ling only sees something whirling by and two Khitan soldiers have already fallen. Li Jianhong takes Duan Ling’s hand and runs three steps forward, telling him, “Jump again!”
Duan Ling leaps over the courtyard fence with Li Jianhong, and into the corridor they go. Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling’s hand with one hand, and holds the long sword in the other, he points it casually a couple of times and another person is knocked out. There are Khitan soldiers patrolling the inside of the estate as well; Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling close, and crouching, hides beneath the windowsill.
The hall is lit, and they can hear people talking. Li Jianhong turns to look at Duan Ling; Duan Ling’s eyes are full of idolisation, but he daren’t say a word. Li Jianhong notices that Duan Ling’s face has gotten dirty, and he haphazardly wipes at it.
Duan Ling hears Batu’s voice coming out of the room.
Batu sounds greatly agitated, speaking Mongolian, then there’s the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.
“Is that him?” Li Jianhong asks.
“That’s him!” Duan Ling replies.
Li Jianhong gets up and walks toward the door to the hall, still holding onto Duan Ling’s hand, and turning to the side he makes one lunging step, one palm landing on the back of the guard at the door to first push a soft force through him that jolts him unconscious, then immediately turning it into a hard force that sends him flying soundlessly to land behind the flowerbed.
Duan Ling turns and charges into the hall, with Li Jianhong following closely behind him.
“Batu!”
The moment he rushes into the hall, to his great surprise Duan Ling realises that there are guards on duty in here too!
Batu and his father’s intense quarrel comes to a spontaneous halt. Greatly alarmed, Duan Ling stops short and turns to run to Li Jianhong, but Li Jianhong takes one step into the hall and with a wave of his hands the wooden chess pieces in his grasp fly off towards the Khitan soldiers like a rain of petals, knocking the four surveillants out and onto the floor.
“Duan Ling?” Batu says, flabbergasted.
“Let’s go!” Duan Ling says, “We came to save you!”
Duan Ling’s appearance is more convincing than anything Li Jianhong could have ever said. Batu gives his father one look before turning decisively to follow Duan Ling out.
“I’m going to go pack some things.” Batu says, “Wait here for me.”
“There’s no time!” Duan Ling says frantically.
Soon, Batu’s father, Bojigin Jochi, runs out after them. Li Jianhong nods at him politely, one arm out to gesture go ahead, as in do escape ahead of me as a sign of respect.3
In the hallway, Batu stops walking. Duan Ling is holding his hand.
“Okay.” Duan Ling makes up his mind. “Let’s go.”
Duan Ling says, “Let’s go find your mom first.”
Batu stops, looking down at the floor. Duan Ling has no idea what’s going on; he sways their joined hands back and forth and feels Batu’s fingers lightly tighten over his.
Batu raises his head and says to Duan Ling, “She’s already left.”
That’s a great weight off Duan Ling’s chest — after all, running with two is at least safer than running with three. When he looks back at Li Jianhong, Li Jianhong points at the back courtyard.
Li Jianhong has already knocked out every guard along the way. Jochi takes one look at the ground covered in unconscious guards, and overcome with unfathomable indignance he draws his weapon, but Li Jianhong blocks it lightly with his sword.
“Shh.” Li Jianhong is trying to tell him that they shouldn’t cause any more of a disturbance, and Jochi’s gaze fixates on him.
Li Jianhong turns around to dash out of the back courtyard, knocking out another guard with two moves. The four of them escape through the alleyway.
“We’re under attack!”
Duan Ling’s calculations were impressively accurate; the shift change finishes, and the guards coming to their sentry posts find a pandemonium within the estate, and loudly raise the alarm. Other guards patrolling the perimeter immediately close in, and a squad runs headfirst into them. Jochi finally gets the opportunity to let off some steam; he throws a punch right away on the head of a war horse, dropping both man and horse onto the ground.
Arrows fly blindly in the dark alleyway, with Jochi attacking and retreating at the same time. Li Jianhong whistles loudly, and Jochi abandons the fight, withdrawing along the small paths off the alleyway.
The city is thrown into confusion. Duan Ling says quietly, “Over this way.”
Hands linked, Duan Ling and Batu are running as fast as they can, but alas the city guard has already made their way here, so Li Jianhong dashes forward and picks one up with each hand. With one hop he lands in someone’s courtyard, escapes by jumping over another wall, and in a heartbeat they’re on the main street. Huffing up a storm, Jochi almost manages to stagger his way up to them when another squad of guards appears to their side.
“Where do you think you’re going!?”
“Outflank them!”
Batu wants to go back to help his dad, but Li Jianhong pulls him back.
“Let me go!” Batu says angrily.
Li Jianhong tosses Batu aside without so much as a by your leave, and Duan Ling throws his arms around Batu at once to stop him from trying to run off to help. Li Jianhong flips over the wall, and right afterwards comes the sound of arrows being fired and a few blood-curdling screams. Duan Ling covers Batu’s mouth, both of them feeling as though their hearts are in their throats.
It’s followed by Li Jianhong saying something in Mongolian, then the two push through the broken back gates of the residential home, stepping quickly inside. Jochi has escaped unscathed, and he’s gasping for breath, his eyes fixed on Li Jianhong.
Only then can Duan Ling and Batu breathe easier. Li Jianhong kicks the door of the residential home open and walks calmly inside. Startled by his door-kicking, a woman rises from her daybed and immediately starts screaming. Li Jianhong presses the scabbard against her and smoothly pushes her right back onto the bed.
“Just passing through,” Li Jianhong says gracefully and leads them through the front doors before picking up Duan Ling. Duan Ling doesn’t know if he should laugh; he waves at Batu, but what he sees is Jochi putting Batu on his back, then with many twists and turns they escape rapidly through this Shangjing night.
“Which way?” Li Jianhong asks.
Once they lose their pursuers, Duan Ling directs them to the garden of the Illustrious Hall. It’s not a day off; the younger cohort of students in the living quarters have already gone to sleep.
The flowerpot gets moved aside. Batu is the first one to crawl through, followed closely by Duan Ling. Li Jianhong hops over the wall with a running jump, and they move towards the library under Duan Ling’s direction. Batu is clearly familiar with the place, and he digs out a backup key from under a flowerpot. They enter the library.
Duan Ling’s nerves are strung tight from their journey, and finally reaching their destination, he spends some time leaning on the long table, panting. Batu lights the lamp, bringing a sudden warmth to this spring night still touched with chill, but before the flame has time to grow, footsteps approach along with their owner, Li Jianhong, whose flick of a finger sends out a burst of wind to put it out.
“Wait here until it’s dawn.” Li Jianhong closes the windows of the library one by one, and tells them without looking behind him, “I’ll find some way to send you two out of the city.”
“Who is he?”
“My dad.”
Duan Ling answers Batu’s question quietly and produces a packet of snacks from his lapel.
“Are you hungry?” Duan Ling asks.
Batu shakes his head. Duan Ling adds, “Eat a little. If you don’t eat you won’t have the strength to run in the morning.”
The room is pitch black save for that little bit of moonlight shining through the window lattice onto Duan Ling’s face. Batu stares at him in a trance, and after a short pause, he reaches out to caress his face.
“What is it?” Duan Ling thinks today’s Batu isn’t very much like the way he usually is. Duan Ling feels a little afraid; reasonably speaking, that’s not something Batu would do.
“It’s nothing.” Batu says, “What about Helian?”
“They’re all doing very well.” Duan Ling replies, “I just saw him today. It’s too late to say goodbye — I’ll pass it on for you.”
“What are we going to do if you get dragged into this?” Batu says with a frown.
“It’ll be fine. My dad’s amazing. No one knows it’s him.”
Batu heaves a sigh. He leans back against the bookshelf, and as though all his strength is spent, he closes his eyes.
“Batu, are you okay?” Duan Ling takes his hand, shaking him.
Batu shakes his head. Duan Ling moves over to make room and lets Batu use his thigh as a pillow. Li Jianhong walks over, patting them each on the head and covering them with an outer gown. It smells like blood still — it’s the one Jochi was wearing earlier.
Far from them, Jochi says something. Duan Ling doesn’t understand it, but Batu did. As soon as their voices ring out, Batu’s eyes go wide.
Li Jianhong makes a reply, again in Mongolian, and the two begin to have a conversation. The Mongol language is crude and candid, and both of them have lowered their voices as though conspiring and somewhat like they’re haggling. Duan Ling never thought that his father would know the language of a foreign tribe as well. He sees that Batu is quietly listening without saying a word, and gives him a shake. “What are they talking about? Can you understand them?”
“My dad and your dad already knew each other.” Batu says to Duan Ling, “And they were even enemies.”
Startled, Duan Ling’s mouth hangs open slightly, a bit scared to believe it. Jochi says something, finishing their conversation, and Batu looks all at once alert and on guard. He sits up and looks at Duan Ling incredulously.
“You’re … you actually are …” Batu looks utterly shocked.
On the other hand, Duan Ling looks utterly bewildered. “What?”
“Batu!” Jochi says severely, and Batu doesn’t say anything more.
“What am I?” Duan Ling asks frantically.
“Son,” Li Jianhong begins.
Silence descends upon the book pavilion. A few beats pass before Li Jianhong speaks again, “Come over to your dad.”
Li Jianhong turns to face Duan Ling. In that instant, Duan Ling senses an unspoken, yet certain, imminent danger. He turns his head to look at Batu before looking back at Li Jianhong.
He’s confused, and yet Batu has let go of Duan Ling’s hand that he’s been holding all this time, letting him know he should go. Duan Ling and Li Jianhong sit on the floor beneath a bookshelf piled high with scrolls. Jochi walks over to Batu’s side, and letting out a long sigh, sits down on the spot.
“You sleepy?” Li Jianhong asks.
Duan Ling really is sleepy, but he has to bear with it, and he doesn’t understand what his father’s intentions are. There’s a whole long table between them and Jochi with Batu, just like the first day he and Batu fell asleep together in the study, except that in place of the lamp on the table, there is now silvery moonlight.
Duan Ling buries his face in Li Jianhong’s shoulder and rubs his head roughly against him, trying to keep himself awake. He shakes his head.
Li Jianhong says, “The Mongols are already attacking Huchang. In a little while, once we send your friend out of Shangjing, they’ll be out of danger, and you won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
Duan Ling hms in reply. When he notices that Batu is watching him, rapt, he looks up again at Li Jianhong. “Dad, what were you talking about with Batu’s dad earlier?”
“I asked him to help me with something.” Li Jianhong says, “It’ll make it easier to send you back to the south in the future.”
Duan Ling is perplexed; he cannot understand what Batu and his father has to do with himself returning to the south. Li Jianhong asks, “Do you want to go back to the south? Do you want to live here in the north with your dad for the rest of your life, or do you want to go back to our homeland?”
Duan Ling thinks about this for a moment. “Will you be going back with me?”
The corner of Li Jianhong’s mouth turns up in the slightest suggestion of a smile, asking him instead, “And if I won’t?”
Duan Ling replies, “Then I won’t go.”
“I will. Wherever you are, there I am,” Li Jianhong says.
Duan Ling makes a sound of agreement and says, “I do want to.”
Li Jianhong does not answer. Instead he turns to look at Batu and his father, as if Duan Ling’s answer has confirmed a certain conclusion he’s reached.
“It’s human nature to miss home. Even if your son was born and raised in the enemy’s capital,” Li Jianhong says unhurriedly, “the blood that flows in his veins is still Mongolian. Batu, have you ever seen your native land?”
His words give Batu a jolt; he turns to look at Jochi, and he’s about to translate for him but Jochi puts a hand on his head to let him know he understood.
“Your son, wants to go home too,” Jochi says in somewhat shaky Han. “But you, not much hope. You, hopeless.”
Li Jianhong says, “He has never been to see that blue pearl of a lake deep in the Hulunbuir grasslands, but he’s already seen it countless times in his dreams. That’s his instinct. My son also yearns for the willow trees on the West Lake’s shores, yearns to see the turbulent fury of the Yangtze River beneath Mount Yuheng.”
Batu thinks about it, then rapidly translates Li Jianhong’s words.
Jochi doesn’t budge an inch. He stares at Li Jianhong as though he’s considering an extremely difficult proposal.
“Past tonight, this will be their world.” Li Jianhong finishes. “I of course wouldn’t force you to do anything. Whether you agree or not, when the sun rises you’re both free to leave. This isn’t an exchange. I certainly will not coerce you by holding my help hostage. I hope you’ll give it careful consideration.”
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Kublai Khan. On a side note, he was born after Batu Khan died. ↩︎
The words used here is 先逃為敬, a play on the phrase 先乾為敬, which is something you say while you drink with someone. “I drink first as a sign of respect.” Li Jianhong here is basically going “do show respect for me by running first” and that’s hilarious. ↩︎
After noon, Li Jianhong takes Duan Ling to the best restaurant in the Liao empire for something to eat. Duan Ling leans on the railing and looks out onto the street. “Dad, I hear Batu’s dad beat him up a lot, and he doesn’t come see me anymore.”
“He hasn’t come to see you because he’s been locked up.” Li Jianhong says in a casual tone, “His dad, Jochi, is a violent man to begin with. Now that he’s been sent here to Shangjing as a hostage and treated with disdain, he can only take it out on his kid.”
“Then … why are there people watching outside his house and not letting anyone in?”
“They’re worried he’d run.” Li Jianhong looks across the street at what happens to be the Borjigin estate. A great number of troops are assembled inside; the security is tight.
“Yuan and Liao are getting increasingly tense at the border.” Li Jianhong explains, “They may start fighting as soon as inside this month.”
“Why do you say so?”
“It’s a guess. It’s springtime in the region north of the Altyn-Tagh right now; the Mongols have just managed to live through the winter, so at the onset of spring they must deploy their troops or they may go hungry.”
“What happens if war breaks out?” Duan Ling asks, “Will Batu be in danger?”
“The Liao emperor is underage, the empress dowager is acting as regent, and the military is in the Northern Prince Yelü Dashi’s hands, so it all depends on his mood. If he’s in a foul mood, suffers a defeat, then when he comes back he’ll give the house of Borjigin grief — even dragging the whole lot of them out for a beheading is a possibility.”
Duan Ling quickly becomes agitated, and worries the whole way home. When they get home, Li Jianhong gives this some thought. “You want to save him?”
“How? Dad, can you save him?”
Li Jianhong bends over in the courtyard to wash his face, and without even lifting his head he says, “It’s not me who’s going to save him. You’re going to save him.”
“But how am I supposed to save him?”
“Yeah.” Li Jianhong finishes washing his face and walks beneath the corridor to wipe his hands. “How are you supposed to save him? You’ll have to take some time to think about it.”
Duan Ling goes quiet for a moment before saying, “It’d be great if Lang Junxia was here, three is always better than two …”
Li Jianhong says quite solemnly, “Please don’t bring up Lang Junxia at a time like this. Your dad is at the very least the number one swordsman of Southern Chen — getting compared to a killer by my son all day long is really depressing.”
Duan Ling falls quiet again. “Um …”
“Aiyoh, just think of something, okay? You’ve read strategy books? Listened to storytellers? I’m assigning you a great warrior right now. As for how you’re going to order him around, whether as a donkey or as a dog, you’ll have to figure that out yourself.”
Duan Ling begins to laugh. Li Jianhong’s expression darkens. “What are you laughing at? A great warrior doesn’t go into action for just any little thing. In the whole wide world the only orders this master swordsman will take are yours. When we get back, you’re even going to owe me a favour.”
As he speaks Li Jianhong raises one hand and rubs his thumb and forefinger together at Duan Ling, as in once the matter is concluded Duan Ling will owe him a favour. Duan Ling’s face goes all stunned. Li Jianhong pays him no heed and heads to the back courtyard to do Duan Ling’s laundry. Duan Ling stands there staring into space for a while; when he realises what Li Jianhong was telling him, a strong feeling of excitement emerges from deep in his heart, and he runs back inside for brush and paper.
“Dad!”
“Hey, my son.” Li Jianhong answers inattentively, doing the laundry.
Duan Ling runs out; the map in his hands has a path drawn onto it, and there are also many tiny figures representing the guards outside the Borjigin estate.
“It’s a strategy map. Why’d you make the people so pretty? Just draw a few triangles.”
Duan Ling nods, and explains, “We have to get them out first, then figure out how to send them out of the city after the gates open in the morning. This is their house. Weren’t we having tea upstairs here in the afternoon?”
“Well then, where do we hide them once we get them out?” Li Jianhong asks, “Our house?”
“Our house is too far away from the city gates, and we don’t even have a cellar — it’s hard to hide anyone here. If they figure out the Borjigins have escaped, they’ll definitely search house by house; people who don’t have any business to do so won’t be able to leave the city.”
“Hm. That’s most clever of you.” Li Jianhong says offhandedly, smiling.
“What’s worrying is that they’ll seal the city tomorrow morning, so we’ll hide them — here! It’s close to the city gates, and we can send them out none the wiser!”
“This is workable! Let’s go with it. Dad’s just going to take out the rubbish, then go save them.”
Duan Ling chases after him. “You didn’t see what I was pointing at! The Illustrious Hall!”
Li Jianhong hangs up the washed clothes and throws out the rubbish. “You know the lay of the land at the Illustrious Hall, so naturally that’s the most suitable hiding spot. Let’s go.”
“Eh? Aren’t you going to cover your face? Don’t all assassins cover their faces?”
Li Jianhong says, “Only trash covers their faces.”
“Um …” Duan Ling knows if he comes along he’ll only get in Li Jianhong’s way, so he tries to hand him the map. “Follow this path …”
“Can’t remember.” Li Jianhong easily throws Duan Ling over his shoulder like a sack of rice. In two steps he’s walking up the wall, and by the third he’s on the roof, then he vanishes into the night as though walking on even ground.
Duan Ling nearly cries out, but luckily he manages to restrain himself. After running a few steps, Li Jianhong touches down on the ground again and dashes rapidly through a great number of alleyways with Duan Ling on his back. He takes a shortcut, then drops into someone’s courtyard, alarming the dog within to a bout of barking.
“Aiyoh.” Li Jianhong says, “What a huge dog. Sounds scarier than Kublai Khan.”2
Duan Ling doesn’t know what to say to that.
“Come down,” Li Jianhong says.
They’ve reached an alley next to the Borjigin estate in a flash. Li Jianhong gets down on one knee with one arm around Duan Ling’s waist, suggesting he should hold onto the emblem set into the roof ridge’s end, and stand still.
“Dad, we forgot your sword. Should we go back and get it?”
“Don’t need it.” Li Jianhong looks up at the moon. It just so happens that today is the fifteenth; a full moon illuminates the earth.
“What a bright night,” Li Jianhong mumbles to himself.
“There are shadows over there that can cover your movement.” Duan Ling points to another area of the estate. Li Jianhong hms quietly in acknowledgement.
In the alley, Khitan soldiers walk past. Duan Ling points beneath his feet to remind Li Jianhong to be careful.
Li Jianhong whispers, “Wait here,” and presses a packet of snacks into his hands, indicating that he can eat something if he’s bored. How is Duan Ling supposed to eat under these circumstances? Duan Ling stuffs it under his lapel and Li Jianhong disappears in the time it takes him to blink.
As the squad of Khitan soldiers go around the corner, the last man in line gets hand-chopped on the back of the neck; he’s dragged backwards by Li Jianhong, hiding in the shadows. Li Jianhong takes the bow and quiver off the soldier’s back, then removes the long sword at his waist. He checks the sword’s weight with one hand, then tosses it over his head. More nervous than anything, Duan Ling reaches out to catch it, and fails to do so. Li Jianhong tosses it up again. Duan Ling still doesn’t manage to catch it.
Third toss; he finally catches it.
Li Jianhong gives him a thumbs up, good job.
Duan Ling sweats with embarrassment.
Li Jianhong leaps onto the wall once more. He grabs a few of the arrows, breaks off the arrowheads and discards them, leaving behind the bare sticks, then he nocks and draws. Duan Ling’s heart is drawn up at once all the way up to this throat.
An arrow flies off and hits the top of a tree inside the garden, making a slight sound. Li Jianhong immediately turns to another tree, and after firing off three consecutive arrows in a rapid fashion, three hidden sentries are knocked out on the spot, each hanging off their respective branch. Li Jianhong vaults onto the eaves once more; with one hand pressing down on the tiles he conceals his slender figure along the edge of the roof, melting into the night.
“They’re starting to change shifts. You can go down now.” Duan Ling whispers, “We only have an eighth of an hour. Dad, do I keep waiting here?”
Li Jianhong takes the sword from Duan Ling. “We’re not taking the roof on the way back. Jump!”
Li Jianhong takes the rope he found on the Khitan soldier and throws it, looping it around an upturned eave. Duan Ling wraps his arms around Li Jianhong’s waist and the two of them swing a wide arc over the Khitan soldiers, dropping into the Borjigin estate’s courtyard.
The moment they hit the ground Li Jianhong brandishes the long sword, scabbard and all; Duan Ling only sees something whirling by and two Khitan soldiers have already fallen. Li Jianhong takes Duan Ling’s hand and runs three steps forward, telling him, “Jump again!”
Duan Ling leaps over the courtyard fence with Li Jianhong, and into the corridor they go. Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling’s hand with one hand, and holds the long sword in the other, he points it casually a couple of times and another person is knocked out. There are Khitan soldiers patrolling the inside of the estate as well; Li Jianhong holds Duan Ling close, and crouching, hides beneath the windowsill.
The hall is lit, and they can hear people talking. Li Jianhong turns to look at Duan Ling; Duan Ling’s eyes are full of idolisation, but he daren’t say a word. Li Jianhong notices that Duan Ling’s face has gotten dirty, and he haphazardly wipes at it.
Duan Ling hears Batu’s voice coming out of the room.
Batu sounds greatly agitated, speaking Mongolian, then there’s the sound of a cup shattering on the floor.
“Is that him?” Li Jianhong asks.
“That’s him!” Duan Ling replies.
Li Jianhong gets up and walks toward the door to the hall, still holding onto Duan Ling’s hand, and turning to the side he makes one lunging step, one palm landing on the back of the guard at the door to first push a soft force through him that jolts him unconscious, then immediately turning it into a hard force that sends him flying soundlessly to land behind the flowerbed.
Duan Ling turns and charges into the hall, with Li Jianhong following closely behind him.
“Batu!”
The moment he rushes into the hall, to his great surprise Duan Ling realises that there are guards on duty in here too!
Batu and his father’s intense quarrel comes to a spontaneous halt. Greatly alarmed, Duan Ling stops short and turns to run to Li Jianhong, but Li Jianhong takes one step into the hall and with a wave of his hands the wooden chess pieces in his grasp fly off towards the Khitan soldiers like a rain of petals, knocking the four surveillants out and onto the floor.
“Duan Ling?” Batu says, flabbergasted.
“Let’s go!” Duan Ling says, “We came to save you!”
Duan Ling’s appearance is more convincing than anything Li Jianhong could have ever said. Batu gives his father one look before turning decisively to follow Duan Ling out.
“I’m going to go pack some things.” Batu says, “Wait here for me.”
“There’s no time!” Duan Ling says frantically.
Soon, Batu’s father, Bojigin Jochi, runs out after them. Li Jianhong nods at him politely, one arm out to gesture go ahead, as in do escape ahead of me as a sign of respect.3
In the hallway, Batu stops walking. Duan Ling is holding his hand.
“Okay.” Duan Ling makes up his mind. “Let’s go.”
Duan Ling says, “Let’s go find your mom first.”
Batu stops, looking down at the floor. Duan Ling has no idea what’s going on; he sways their joined hands back and forth and feels Batu’s fingers lightly tighten over his.
Batu raises his head and says to Duan Ling, “She’s already left.”
That’s a great weight off Duan Ling’s chest — after all, running with two is at least safer than running with three. When he looks back at Li Jianhong, Li Jianhong points at the back courtyard.
Li Jianhong has already knocked out every guard along the way. Jochi takes one look at the ground covered in unconscious guards, and overcome with unfathomable indignance he draws his weapon, but Li Jianhong blocks it lightly with his sword.
“Shh.” Li Jianhong is trying to tell him that they shouldn’t cause any more of a disturbance, and Jochi’s gaze fixates on him.
Li Jianhong turns around to dash out of the back courtyard, knocking out another guard with two moves. The four of them escape through the alleyway.
“We’re under attack!”
Duan Ling’s calculations were impressively accurate; the shift change finishes, and the guards coming to their sentry posts find a pandemonium within the estate, and loudly raise the alarm. Other guards patrolling the perimeter immediately close in, and a squad runs headfirst into them. Jochi finally gets the opportunity to let off some steam; he throws a punch right away on the head of a war horse, dropping both man and horse onto the ground.
Arrows fly blindly in the dark alleyway, with Jochi attacking and retreating at the same time. Li Jianhong whistles loudly, and Jochi abandons the fight, withdrawing along the small paths off the alleyway.
The city is thrown into confusion. Duan Ling says quietly, “Over this way.”
Hands linked, Duan Ling and Batu are running as fast as they can, but alas the city guard has already made their way here, so Li Jianhong dashes forward and picks one up with each hand. With one hop he lands in someone’s courtyard, escapes by jumping over another wall, and in a heartbeat they’re on the main street. Huffing up a storm, Jochi almost manages to stagger his way up to them when another squad of guards appears to their side.
“Where do you think you’re going!?”
“Outflank them!”
Batu wants to go back to help his dad, but Li Jianhong pulls him back.
“Let me go!” Batu says angrily.
Li Jianhong tosses Batu aside without so much as a by your leave, and Duan Ling throws his arms around Batu at once to stop him from trying to run off to help. Li Jianhong flips over the wall, and right afterwards comes the sound of arrows being fired and a few blood-curdling screams. Duan Ling covers Batu’s mouth, both of them feeling as though their hearts are in their throats.
It’s followed by Li Jianhong saying something in Mongolian, then the two push through the broken back gates of the residential home, stepping quickly inside. Jochi has escaped unscathed, and he’s gasping for breath, his eyes fixed on Li Jianhong.
Only then can Duan Ling and Batu breathe easier. Li Jianhong kicks the door of the residential home open and walks calmly inside. Startled by his door-kicking, a woman rises from her daybed and immediately starts screaming. Li Jianhong presses the scabbard against her and smoothly pushes her right back onto the bed.
“Just passing through,” Li Jianhong says gracefully and leads them through the front doors before picking up Duan Ling. Duan Ling doesn’t know if he should laugh; he waves at Batu, but what he sees is Jochi putting Batu on his back, then with many twists and turns they escape rapidly through this Shangjing night.
“Which way?” Li Jianhong asks.
Once they lose their pursuers, Duan Ling directs them to the garden of the Illustrious Hall. It’s not a day off; the younger cohort of students in the living quarters have already gone to sleep.
The flowerpot gets moved aside. Batu is the first one to crawl through, followed closely by Duan Ling. Li Jianhong hops over the wall with a running jump, and they move towards the library under Duan Ling’s direction. Batu is clearly familiar with the place, and he digs out a backup key from under a flowerpot. They enter the library.
Duan Ling’s nerves are strung tight from their journey, and finally reaching their destination, he spends some time leaning on the long table, panting. Batu lights the lamp, bringing a sudden warmth to this spring night still touched with chill, but before the flame has time to grow, footsteps approach along with their owner, Li Jianhong, whose flick of a finger sends out a burst of wind to put it out.
“Wait here until it’s dawn.” Li Jianhong closes the windows of the library one by one, and tells them without looking behind him, “I’ll find some way to send you two out of the city.”
“Who is he?”
“My dad.”
Duan Ling answers Batu’s question quietly and produces a packet of snacks from his lapel.
“Are you hungry?” Duan Ling asks.
Batu shakes his head. Duan Ling adds, “Eat a little. If you don’t eat you won’t have the strength to run in the morning.”
The room is pitch black save for that little bit of moonlight shining through the window lattice onto Duan Ling’s face. Batu stares at him in a trance, and after a short pause, he reaches out to caress his face.
“What is it?” Duan Ling thinks today’s Batu isn’t very much like the way he usually is. Duan Ling feels a little afraid; reasonably speaking, that’s not something Batu would do.
“It’s nothing.” Batu says, “What about Helian?”
“They’re all doing very well.” Duan Ling replies, “I just saw him today. It’s too late to say goodbye — I’ll pass it on for you.”
“What are we going to do if you get dragged into this?” Batu says with a frown.
“It’ll be fine. My dad’s amazing. No one knows it’s him.”
Batu heaves a sigh. He leans back against the bookshelf, and as though all his strength is spent, he closes his eyes.
“Batu, are you okay?” Duan Ling takes his hand, shaking him.
Batu shakes his head. Duan Ling moves over to make room and lets Batu use his thigh as a pillow. Li Jianhong walks over, patting them each on the head and covering them with an outer gown. It smells like blood still — it’s the one Jochi was wearing earlier.
Far from them, Jochi says something. Duan Ling doesn’t understand it, but Batu did. As soon as their voices ring out, Batu’s eyes go wide.
Li Jianhong makes a reply, again in Mongolian, and the two begin to have a conversation. The Mongol language is crude and candid, and both of them have lowered their voices as though conspiring and somewhat like they’re haggling. Duan Ling never thought that his father would know the language of a foreign tribe as well. He sees that Batu is quietly listening without saying a word, and gives him a shake. “What are they talking about? Can you understand them?”
“My dad and your dad already knew each other.” Batu says to Duan Ling, “And they were even enemies.”
Startled, Duan Ling’s mouth hangs open slightly, a bit scared to believe it. Jochi says something, finishing their conversation, and Batu looks all at once alert and on guard. He sits up and looks at Duan Ling incredulously.
“You’re … you actually are …” Batu looks utterly shocked.
On the other hand, Duan Ling looks utterly bewildered. “What?”
“Batu!” Jochi says severely, and Batu doesn’t say anything more.
“What am I?” Duan Ling asks frantically.
“Son,” Li Jianhong begins.
Silence descends upon the book pavilion. A few beats pass before Li Jianhong speaks again, “Come over to your dad.”
Li Jianhong turns to face Duan Ling. In that instant, Duan Ling senses an unspoken, yet certain, imminent danger. He turns his head to look at Batu before looking back at Li Jianhong.
He’s confused, and yet Batu has let go of Duan Ling’s hand that he’s been holding all this time, letting him know he should go. Duan Ling and Li Jianhong sit on the floor beneath a bookshelf piled high with scrolls. Jochi walks over to Batu’s side, and letting out a long sigh, sits down on the spot.
“You sleepy?” Li Jianhong asks.
Duan Ling really is sleepy, but he has to bear with it, and he doesn’t understand what his father’s intentions are. There’s a whole long table between them and Jochi with Batu, just like the first day he and Batu fell asleep together in the study, except that in place of the lamp on the table, there is now silvery moonlight.
Duan Ling buries his face in Li Jianhong’s shoulder and rubs his head roughly against him, trying to keep himself awake. He shakes his head.
Li Jianhong says, “The Mongols are already attacking Huchang. In a little while, once we send your friend out of Shangjing, they’ll be out of danger, and you won’t have to worry about them anymore.”
Duan Ling hms in reply. When he notices that Batu is watching him, rapt, he looks up again at Li Jianhong. “Dad, what were you talking about with Batu’s dad earlier?”
“I asked him to help me with something.” Li Jianhong says, “It’ll make it easier to send you back to the south in the future.”
Duan Ling is perplexed; he cannot understand what Batu and his father has to do with himself returning to the south. Li Jianhong asks, “Do you want to go back to the south? Do you want to live here in the north with your dad for the rest of your life, or do you want to go back to our homeland?”
Duan Ling thinks about this for a moment. “Will you be going back with me?”
The corner of Li Jianhong’s mouth turns up in the slightest suggestion of a smile, asking him instead, “And if I won’t?”
Duan Ling replies, “Then I won’t go.”
“I will. Wherever you are, there I am,” Li Jianhong says.
Duan Ling makes a sound of agreement and says, “I do want to.”
Li Jianhong does not answer. Instead he turns to look at Batu and his father, as if Duan Ling’s answer has confirmed a certain conclusion he’s reached.
“It’s human nature to miss home. Even if your son was born and raised in the enemy’s capital,” Li Jianhong says unhurriedly, “the blood that flows in his veins is still Mongolian. Batu, have you ever seen your native land?”
His words give Batu a jolt; he turns to look at Jochi, and he’s about to translate for him but Jochi puts a hand on his head to let him know he understood.
“Your son, wants to go home too,” Jochi says in somewhat shaky Han. “But you, not much hope. You, hopeless.”
Li Jianhong says, “He has never been to see that blue pearl of a lake deep in the Hulunbuir grasslands, but he’s already seen it countless times in his dreams. That’s his instinct. My son also yearns for the willow trees on the West Lake’s shores, yearns to see the turbulent fury of the Yangtze River beneath Mount Yuheng.”
Batu thinks about it, then rapidly translates Li Jianhong’s words.
Jochi doesn’t budge an inch. He stares at Li Jianhong as though he’s considering an extremely difficult proposal.
“Past tonight, this will be their world.” Li Jianhong finishes. “I of course wouldn’t force you to do anything. Whether you agree or not, when the sun rises you’re both free to leave. This isn’t an exchange. I certainly will not coerce you by holding my help hostage. I hope you’ll give it careful consideration.”
I do not monetise my hobby translations, but if you’d like to support my work generally or support my light novel habit, you can either buy me a coffee or commission me. This is also to note that if you see this message anywhere else than on tumblr, do come to my tumblr. It’s ad-free. ↩︎
Kublai Khan. On a side note, he was born after Batu Khan died. ↩︎
The words used here is 先逃為敬, a play on the phrase 先乾為敬, which is something you say while you drink with someone. “I drink first as a sign of respect.” Li Jianhong here is basically going “do show respect for me by running first” and that’s hilarious. ↩︎
