No Regrets After the Move: One Stone Turns the World Around

In the seventeenth year of the Jinghe era of the Dayun Dynasty, the northern frontier won a great victory.

The Third Prince, Xiao Mo, led his army to crush twelve Turkic tribes in succession, his forces driving straight for the royal camp. One final battle would settle everything and bring thirty years of peace to the dynasty's northern border.

But an imperial decree ordered him back to the capital, citing his mother's critical illness.

Xiao Mo tore up the decree. Three days later, the Turkic royal camp went up in flames.

On the day he returned to court, the people lined the streets and cheered. But waiting for him at the imperial steps were thirty-three memorials from the Censorate, accusing him of defying the decree, violating filial piety, hoarding troops, and plotting rebellion.

His father looked at him and said only one word: "Demoted."

Youzhou, a bitterly cold place, far from the court.

Sitting in a drafty post station, Xiao Mo smiled at the few personal guards who remained by his side. "They think tossing me out here means I've lost this game?"

He opened Youzhou's census register and circled a name in red: Xie Xuan, the last "God of War" of the previous dynasty, imprisoned in Youzhou by Dayun for ten years and reduced to a broken man.

Beneath that name, he wrote a second: Shen Sanniang, owner of an underground gambling den in Youzhou, known as the "Living King of Hell."

In the dead of night, someone delivered a letter signed "Someone who wants to take a gamble." It contained just one sentence: "Your Highness, the waters of Youzhou run deeper than you think. I've spent three years sounding them out for you. It's time to close the net."

Xiao Mo held the letter over the candle flame and watched it burn to ash.

"Good. Then let's close it."