"When wolves dine with vultures, they eat quickly—and sleep with one eye open." — Proverb from the old Tongxian courts
The snow thawed.
With spring came mud, swollen rivers, and movement.
Lord Yao delivered as promised. Within a week, ox-carts rolled into Moquan carrying sacks of barley, forged blades with noble crests filed off, and even a broken-down siege engine. His riders — lean, steel-eyed men with no flags — drilled the rebels in mounted combat. They called themselves the Broken Feathers.
Yi Fen distrusted them. Xu Liang, recovered but limping, called them "knives that smile."
Huai Shan watched. And waited.
The first joint raid came at the village of Sujian — a border town loyal to the Imperials, lightly garrisoned, heavy with grain.
Yao's scouts slit the throats of the outer sentries. Huai's rebels stormed the granary. A skirmish broke out by the well, but it ended quickly. The rebels won. No casualties.
But the bodies they found in the town square told another story.
Twelve villagers. Hands bound. Shot in the back.
Yao only shrugged. "They signaled the fort," he said. "Risk we couldn't afford."
Xu Liang confronted him that night. "We kill soldiers," he said. "Not butchers."
Yao didn't flinch. "You want to win or not?"
By month's end, five more villages had fallen. Each victory fed the cause: more food, more weapons, even defectors from Han Yu's side. The name Huai Shan began to carry weight — not just as a rebel, but as a warlord.
Poems were sung in taverns. Whispered messages from distant towns arrived in hollowed-out books: If you march east, we will rise with you.
Yet the price showed in the eyes of his men.
Jun's grave was covered in weeds now. The child Lin, once a hero, became a story no one told. And Ren, quiet since his brother's death, vanished one morning without a word.
Yi Fen found only a torn cloak near the cliff's edge.
One night, Huai stood alone again on the watchtower, staring into the dark.
Yao joined him, cloaked in wolf fur.
"You've changed," Yao said, pouring wine into two iron cups.
Huai didn't look at him. "The world changed first."
Yao handed him a cup. "Good. Because the next step is war. Real war. I know where Han Yu is hiding. A supply depot east of Longchuan. Take it… and the north bends knee."
Huai took the cup, but didn't drink.
"And if we don't?"
Yao's smile was thin as frost. "Then the Empire regathers. You get crushed. And I find someone else."
Huai finally drank.
Not because he trusted him.
But because he knew there was no turning back.