Victor Mason smiled and said, “Charlie, growing up in the Grand General’s residence, you really aren’t well-informed. The General Who Pacifies the West led his troops into Qinzhou last March—it’s been over a year now, and victory reports keep coming in. Several people have been ennobled because of it, but the bandits just can’t be wiped out. Either the General is exaggerating his achievements, or the bandit problem in Qinzhou is far worse than expected. As for Bingzhou—heh, Matthew Sullivan is an old friend of your Carter family, but he’s long been under imperial suspicion. Now, suddenly sending word of a rebellion? There must be more to it.”

Charles Carter shook his head. “Not so. Whatever the situation in Qinzhou or Bingzhou, it doesn’t affect the fate of the realm. The battle in Jizhou is what really matters.”

“The war with the northern Herong tribe? Haven’t you heard? The court has already decided to withdraw and make peace. If there’s to be another war, it’ll be at least two or three years from now.”

Charles Carter still shook his head. “The court may want peace, but the Emperor may not. In my humble opinion, His Majesty will not give up so easily.”

“His Majesty…” Victor Mason murmured, glancing around instinctively. Seeing no outsiders, he dared to continue, “If chaos erupts in the realm, it will surely start with the Emperor. In the more than ten years since his accession, he only pretended for the first two years—then his true nature was revealed. Charlie, have you considered my suggestion?”

Charles Carter put down his wine cup. “You weren’t joking?”

“Would I joke about something like this?”

“Heh, just the two of us?”

“Some things seem difficult but are actually easy. Brandishing a sword for assassination—when Black Dog Wright used it to take revenge on commoners, it was foolish. But if we use it against the Emperor, it could be a masterstroke.”

“Who wields the sword? Who does the assassinating?”

“Haha, I knew Charlie was no ordinary man. The court suppresses the talents of five states, the killings never stop—who knows when it’ll be our turn? Who with a heart isn’t outraged? Besides, Tiancheng is newly founded, its roots unstable, and now there’s a tyrant on the throne. The omens are clear—this is our chance to soar.”

Charles Carter looked at the leftover dishes on the table, thought of his and Victor Mason’s circumstances, and asked, “What can we do?”

“I have a brilliant plan—just need your help, Charlie.”

Charles Carter truly couldn’t think of any skill he had that could help.

Chapter Three: Playing the Flute

“For people like us, under Tiancheng’s rule, there’s only one road left—death. Sooner or later.” Today, Victor Mason was determined to persuade Charles Carter. He spread his arms, gesturing at the sparsely furnished room. “Even being a descendant of the Great Liang imperial family—so what? Look at this decline. Charlie, son of the Grand General, trapped in a pond.”

“Great Liang fell thirty-three years ago. The Emperor then was my grandfather. To be fair, he was a foolish ruler—our fall was inevitable. But Great Liang shouldn’t have fallen to the Zhang clan.”

The current Emperor’s surname is Zhang. Victor Mason gritted his teeth at the mention. “Zhang Xi was originally a general of Great Liang… Heh, you know all this—why talk about it? Hardly anyone remembers Great Liang now. But your Wu kingdom—loyal ministers and righteous men keep appearing…”

“Our Wu kingdom?” Charles Carter found it a bit amusing.

Victor Mason said seriously, “Charlie, you don’t consider yourself a Wu man?”

Charles Carter recalled a scene from years ago—supposedly his birth mother had claimed he was from Wu, her tone proud yet sorrowful. The more time passed, the clearer the memory became.

“I’ve never met anyone from Wu. I’ve only occasionally heard of Wu people causing trouble.”

“Occasionally? Even now, the court has a hundred thousand troops stationed in Jiangdong’s Wuzhou. The real reason the Emperor canceled his trip to Jizhou wasn’t the bandits in Qinzhou or Bingzhou, but his fear that the hearts of Wu people are unsettled.”

“Mr. Mason, you invited me just because my birth mother was from Wu?”

“Haha, of course not. Charlie, how long have we known each other?”

“Six years, I think.”

“Today makes five years, nine months, and seven days.” Victor Mason remembered exactly. “You were only twelve or thirteen then, just entered the Youxue Hall, mocked by others. You replied, ‘Wealth and glory—some fight for it, some guard it, some lose it. You mediocre lot barely hold on; I’d rather fight than just guard my inheritance.’ From that moment, I knew Charlie was no ordinary person.”

Charles Carter couldn’t help but laugh. He remembered the scene, but hadn’t expected anyone else to. “And then I got beaten up, called ‘George Carter’ for half a year.”

“That’s right. Charlie would rather get beaten than apologize. How did you finally shut them up?”

Charles Carter smiled without answering. Victor Mason pressed him repeatedly, and finally he said, “I gave Lucas Wright a nickname. Everyone found it funny, so they forgot about ‘George Carter’.”

Victor Mason burst out laughing. “So the origin of ‘Black-Haired Dog’ is with you! Yes, Lucas Wright was one of those who beat you.”

“I never thought that nickname would stick to this day.”

“Because it’s just too fitting. So you see, that’s why I want you to join me in this great endeavor.”

Charles Carter’s enthusiasm faded. He drank in silence. Victor Mason also fell silent, drinking with him. Cup after cup, the wine warmed them. Charles Carter said, “Mr. Mason, do you really have a plan?”

“It’s not convenient to say more today. In a few days, I’ll introduce you to someone. Then we’ll talk in detail. At least let me convince you that my plan, while not perfect, is far from a mere whim.”