It was a cool night. A calm breeze floated through the air. Insects hummed in the foliage around town.

The streets in Lushan City had emptied for the night and Tangtao trotted sedately down the road, perusing the stalls for what to destroy tonight.

The destruction was optional. Tangtao was perfectly capable of stealing what he pleased, when he pleased, without breaking anything. However, to Tangtao, a meal should please the five senses—the sensations of wood splintering under his hooves brought out the delicate flavors in food as simple as the humble cabbage.

He had standards. There were certain ways things ought to be done.

Down the road, he noticed a conspicuous pile of apples lying in the street.

He snorted. Adorable.

He had already passed several of these silly cultivator’s arrays earlier. They were all poorly disguised, covered up with straw or scraps canvas, and half of them obviously baited.

It was almost a shame that the best Ziyi’s stupid daughters were able to hire were these shabby vagabonds. They would hardly raise a greater challenge than Ziyi’s pointless grandsons.

Did they really think he could be contained by a group of dirty children?

Laughable.

Tangtao was magnificence itself—he was 500 jin of pure rippling muscle, with a spiritual core strengthened by high quality spiritual grass, and a mind sharpened by literary classics. He was without equal.

Ziyi had been the sole companion he humored. She was herself no great beauty or great talent, just the daughter of a moderately successful dye merchant in a provincial city. However, when Tangtao had been a foal, long before he attained his current glory, he’d been born rather sickly and his mother rejected him.

Ziyi’s dolt of a father had planned on killing him, but Ziyi had been a young girl of high discernment and excellent taste, and she’d begged him to let her nurse Tangtao back to health.

Tangtao, being a horse blessed by the heavens, had naturally recovered under her care. They’d spent many idyllic years of their youth cavorting in the foothills of Lu Mountain. One day while playing together, they’d stumbled upon a glade full of high grade spiritual grasses. Though they hadn’t understood their good fortune at the time, it had lead to the rapid cultivation of Tangtao’s spiritual core.

In gratitude for her devotion and loyalty, Tangtao had remained by Ziyi’s side until her death. It was a testament to his outstanding integrity that he’d continued to accompany her, even when her father had married her to a truly insufferable man and she’d had a mess of similarly unpleasant children.

Tangtao had even went as far as to ensure her continued prosperity. In one of his many errors of judgement, Ziyi’s father had left his dye business to his sons. Tangtao had benevolently corrected this mistake by killing them, ostensibly allowing Ziyi’s husband and son to inherit it, but in practice rightfully placing it under Ziyi’s control. He’d had to kill Ziyi’s husband as well when he’d ignored reason and continued to interfere in her business, but her husband had served his purpose by then anyway so it was no great tragedy. Her competitors had beensummarily dealt with as well.

Tangtao had been Ziyi’s most valued partner. He was powerful and had excellent judgement, but he disliked petty dealings with most humans. Ziyi could be relied on to smooth over and clean up any of his more violent business decisions. She’d even procured powerful spiritual medicines and plants for him to express her gratitude. It had been a mutually beneficial relationship.

Unfortunately, humans live such fleeting lives, and after 102 short years his friend had returned to the Yellow Springs. Even more unfortunate, Ziyi’s daughters seemed to suffer under some kind of delusion that Ziyi owned him and had been engaged in a farcical battle over him since their mother’s death. They had no appreciation for his genius, for his prowess, for the beauty and strength of his moral character. They only concerned themselves with outshining each other.

Her sons were no brighter, but at least they’d been too busy running her business into the ground to bother trying to catch him. It was a pity to see his hard work wasted, but his interest in human commerce had died with Ziyi.

It was a terrible shame that no one had inherited Ziyi’s good sense.

Feeling wistful, Tangtao broke apart a vegetable stand with a powerful kick and helped himself to some radishes.

After these contemptible little cultivators were dealt with, he really should move on to a new location before he attracted the attention of a more serious threat. He’d only dallied so long in Lushan City out of nostalgia and the absurd hope that maybe Ziyi’s daughters might learn a lesson from their frivolous games if he killed enough of their children.

He heard something drop to the ground on his right. He had been wondering when the cultivators would abandon their asinine arrays and try another tactic. Tangtao lifted his head and investigated the noise.

An apple was rolling across the street.

Did they really still think they could lure him with apples?

As Tangtao glanced around to find where it had been thrown from, he felt something cold wrap around his neck.

—

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Heng Xiaowen thought things were going pretty well.

Admittedly, was one wrong move away from being dragged with Qiu Jucheng through the streets by a murderous horse, but they were prepared for that. That was an anticipated risk.

The horse screamed and reared, snapping the chain whip up and jerking Heng Xiaowen and Qiu Jucheng forward. Heng Xiaowen sank his weight back, bending his knees and breathing through the pain of the whip against his fingers.

He and Qiu Jucheng had developed a rhythm; syncing their breath and pulling back on every inhale, digging their heels into the ground and fighting inch by inch to drag the horse towards them.

The horse was strong—stronger than them by a long shot, but the harder it pulled to break free, the harder Yinmai bit into its neck.

They just needed to hold it a little longer. Long enough for Song Jiayi to finish pushing the containment array under its feet.

She couldn’t rush it. If she moved the earth too quickly and it fractured, the array would shatter.

It was going according to plan.

“Let go of me, you insolent wretch!” Madame Su bellowed, flailing wildly in Yang Jingfei’s arms.

Mostly.

“Stop it!” Yang Jingfei yelled. “Are you trying to die?!”

Moments after Qiu Jucheng secured Yinmai around the horse’s neck, Madame Su had emerged from the shadows and ran straight for the horse.

Yang Jingfei had reacted the fastest, dropping down from the roof and dragging her back to safety.

It made things more complicated.

Heng Xiaowen and Qiu Jucheng were supposed to have one job—keep the horse from running away, so Song Jiayi could focus on the Flowing Earth technique. Now they had two—keep the horse from running away and drag it in the opposite direction of Yang Jingfei and Madame Su.

“It is my horse! Mine!” Madame Su shrieked. “Let me go! It will listen to me!”

Heng Xiaowen was admittedly unfamiliar with horse body language, but when the horse once again dragged him another foot towards Madame Su, it didn’t seem to be the action of a noble steed yearning to reunite with its master. It seemed like the horse wanted to kill her really bad.

Inhale—they dragged the horse back another inch.

The math wasn’t looking… great.

For every foot the horse gained, Heng Xiaowen and Qiu Jucheng were only able to pull it back a few inches.

Yang Jingfei was tall and strong for her age. Madame Su was an older woman, but a grown adult nonetheless. Yang Jingfei was struggling to maintain her grip on her.

Song Jiayi moved the array, slowly and steadily.

Heng Xiaowen wasn’t confident that the array would reach the horse before the horse reached Yang Jingfei.

There was a fail safe, of course.

Heng Xiaowen knew that Ling Hong was crouched on the roof with his bow trained on the horse’s neck.

If the horse got too close, he would shoot.

That wasn’t Heng Xiaowen’s job or call though.

He just had to slow this horse down, inch by inch.

If the horse gained just a few more feet, three or four good surges forward, it would reach Yang Jingfei.

Heng Xiaowen could feel his pulse in his hands.

They lost another foot.

The way horses scream was shockingly horrible but he was almost deaf to it now.

It was just noise. Like pain was just pain.

Heng Xiaowen steeled himself to drag the horse back another stupid inch.

Then, several things happened very quickly.

Someone who had been hiding in the shadows ran out towards the horse.

Madame Su screamed, “You bitch!”

Heng Xiaowen recognized them at Madame Jin.

He knew right away that no one else was close enough to stop her, except him and Qiu Jucheng, and that if he didn’t stop her, she would die.

Heng Xiaowen let go of the whip and ran.

And his foot caught on something immediately.

He hit the ground hard and couldn’t breathe for a second.

He lay face down on the ground in a daze.

There was a crunch.

Madame Jin screamed.

There were several more crunches. In quick succession. Almost percussive.

Madame Jin stopped screaming sometime after the third one.

“Da-shixiong!”

Heng Xiaowen felt someone flip him over onto his back and Lu Xiuying’s face swam into view above him.

Wasn’t she supposed to be on the roof?

Lu Xiuying quickly pulled him to his feet, just in time for Heng Xiaowen to watch the horse lose interest in trampling Madame Jin’s body any further and turn back to Yang Jingfei and Madame Su.

Heng Xiaowen rushed back to help Qiu Jucheng with the whip again, but before he could reach him he saw the horse rear and slam down against an invisible barrier.

It staggered back, whinnied in frustration, and crashed into again to no avail.

Heng Xiaowen looked back to see Song Jiayi standing in the road. Sweat was dripping down her face, her chest heaving as she panted. He caught her eye and she gave him a nod.

It looked like killing Madame Jin had distracted the horse long enough to buy them the extra few seconds they’d needed. Song Jiayi had finished sliding the array under the horse’s hooves.

Curious, Heng Xiaowen checked the ground, searching for what he had tripped on. He couldn’t find anything—the ground was clear.

He wouldn’t put tripping on thin air past himself, but he swore he’d felt his foot catch on something.

“Da-shixiong.” Lu Xiuying touched his arm. “Let’s go help Jingfei.”

Heng Xiaowen looked at her. She seemed the same as always. Maybe slightly more disheveled than usual. There was strip of bare skin on her forehead, probably a side effect of wiping the sweat off her brow and taking her makeup with it.

She shouldn’t have worked up a sweat sitting on the roof.

Madame Su shrieked some more demands and Heng Xiaowen shook himself from his thoughts, jogging over to take her off Yang Jingfei’s hands.

“Unhand me, you oaf!” Madame Su struggled, but he restrained her easily enough, despite his arms feeling like jelly. “That is my horse, if you people would just let me go you’ll see that he’ll listen to me.”

“Oh my god, lady,” Yang Jingfei said. “You’ll die! I saved your life! Didn’t you just see what happened to Madame Jin? Are you crazy?”

“That’s because he knows to recognize his proper owner!”

Heng Xiaowen watched Yang Jingfei open and close her hands several times before bringing them to her mouth and biting down on both of her fists at once. She turned around and screamed.

Song Jiayi gave Yang Jingfei’s shoulder a reassuring pat.

“Madame Su, it’s over,” she said. “You need to go home.”

“But—”

Song Jiayi cut her off. “It’s over. Go home.”

Madame Su had stopped actively writhing in Heng Xiaowen’s arms, but she was trembling with rage. He had the feeling if he let her go she would still make a break for the horse. Sunk cost fallacy was a hell of a thing.

“Who are you to tell me what to do, hm?” she asked, her voice quavering slightly. “Just who do you think you are?”

Lu Xiuying stepped forward. “Madame Su, you should rest. I’m sure your sister’s family will need your help preparing for the funeral,” she said in a soft voice.

Everyone’s attention went to Lu Xiuying. She was looking at Madame Su with wide sad eyes, her lips downturned in sympathy.

Sisters. It seemed obvious now that she said it.

“This horse has taken away so much from you already, I’m sorry we couldn’t help sooner.” Lu Xiuying bowed deeply. “Madame Su should take care and return home safely.”

The tension finally went out of Madame Su and she sagged in Heng Xiaowen’s grip. He gently let go of her and stepped back.

She remained where she was for a moment. She looked at the horse.

Qiu Jucheng had removed Yinmai already, so the horse was free to move in enraged circles within the array. Qiu Jucheng himself was crouching nearby, fussing with something in the qiankun bag.

Madame Jin’s body was laying just outside the array. Heng Xiaowen couldn’t make out too many details in the dark, but he could see the dim moonlight reflecting off the blood pooling underneath her.

Madame Su suddenly looked very tired.

She didn’t say anything else, just turned from the horse and walked away.