Yesterday, I was a convict in an exile camp, struggling in the mud on the frontier and fighting starving dogs for scraps. Today, I was the famous young master of the Xie family in Luoyang, all because he died right in front of me. I wiped the blood from his face, put on his jade pendant, and walked into the man-eating military stronghold of Youzhou. They wanted the prestige of a young man from a great clan. I wanted a chance to survive. But when they ordered me, their “noble-born heir,” to defend that doomed city, I knew I had to make this act real. If I fail to hold it, the barbarian cavalry will trample my bones. If I succeed, the nobles in the imperial capital will still want me dead.
