***
The leader of the guard troop grit his teeth, gripping his horsehair spear so hard his knuckles turned white. His scale armor—bronze plates over tanned leather—clinked softly with each step, a reminder of the risk he’d taken wearing it. He glanced at the young men beside him, their wide eyes darting through the cavern’s shadows. The sound of water dripped from above, echoing against the jagged walls, blending with the shallow stream sloshing beneath their feet. The air was so damp that it was palpable, carrying the faint, musty scent of decay.
The escorts pressed forward in a disjointed mass—shieldsmen leading, spearmen behind, swordsmen flanking, crossbowmen guarding the rear. Their supposed formation barely held against the uneven terrain. Stalactites loomed above like jagged fangs and pools of stagnant water mirrored their flickering torchlight. At the center of this fragile cluster stood Captain Zhào, his expression eerily calm.
A rear guard, Hǔ, drifted to his side, voice laced with Qì as he used Stealth Speaking,
“They’re shaking. Even the veterans.”
Zhào exhaled slowly, gaze flicking to the dark recesses of the cavern. He replied using the same technique, his vocal cords vibrating at a frequency only Hǔ could hear.
“Ask your question, Hǔ.”
The mercenary’s eyes darted around, wary. The cavern walls seemed to close in, the flickering torchlight casting shadows behind the stalagmites and stalactites around them. It felt like they were willingly walking into the mouth of a grand beast.
“Why bring these greenhorns? Why wear that armor if stealth matters? Why send us all in when only two of us can use Stealth Arts?”
Zhào’s smirk was slight but razor-sharp.
“Because we need to leave this place alive.”
Hǔ’s scowl deepened.
“We were moving rugs, weren’t we?”
Zhào sighed.
“Our client is the Beggar’s Sect. Do you understand what that means?”
Hǔ clenched his fists, forcing composure. A droplet fell from above, landing on his shoulder like ice. Zhào studied him, eyes glinting with amusement.
“You’re thinking of running.”
Hǔ’s jaw tightened, trying not to terrify the men around him.
“You lied. The Beggar’s Sect wouldn’t hire someone like you. The commission wouldn’t be this low.”
Zhào shrugged, his voice nonchalant.
“Does it matter?”
Hǔ growled.
“Of course it matters. You led us into this.”
Zhào’s voice dropped, silk over steel.
“And yet, here you are. Alive. Armed. Free to leave.”
Hǔ hesitated. The cavern seemed to stretch endlessly ahead, its darkness swallowing all sound beyond their footfalls.
Zhào leaned in, his voice a whisper of poison.
“Go ahead. Run. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from. Tell them you abandoned your brothers. See if they welcome you—or spit at your feet.”
Hǔ exhaled sharply, gently shaking his head from side to side.
“Don’t try to guilt me.”
Zhào’s eyes gleamed as he smiled calmly.
“I don’t need to. You already know I’m right. Walk away, and you’re not just a coward—you’re a dead coward. The Beggar’s Sect doesn’t forgive deserters. Neither does it spare their families. I’m sure you know what it means to make an enemy of the Beggar’s Sect.”
A long pause. Then, a bitter laugh from Hǔ.
“So what’s your grand plan? Walking us all into death?”
Zhào smiled, a slow, knowing curl of his lips.
“You think I’d walk into this without a plan?”
Realization struck Hǔ like a slap. His face twisted in disgust. The weight of the cavern pressed down, the air thickening with something unseen but undeniable. Zhào grinned, reading him with ease.
“Let the master underestimate us. He’ll think we’re just fodder like the rest of our men. And then we strike. Together, we’re not as weak as you believe.”
Hǔ glared.
“You really think this is gonna work?”
Zhào’s voice remained steady, unwavering.
“I think you’re smart enough to know what happens if we don’t try.”
A tense silence stretched between them. Then, Hǔ exhaled through his nose.
“Fine. I’ll play along—as long as I’m one of the ones who walks out.”
Zhào chuckled, satisfied.
“Of course. I’d prefer that as well, my friend.”
Hǔ fixed his gaze on the darkness ahead, bracing for whatever came next. The tunnel ahead sloped downward, its depths swallowing their flickering torchlight. The damp walls closed in tighter, the air growing colder with each step. He bitterly replied,
“Don’t call me that.”
Neither spoke again as they trudged deeper into the cave. Zhào maintained his air of confidence, but inside, he cursed himself. He had always found ways to avoid risks, but this time, there was no squirming out of it.
He looked at the flag affixed to his spear’s end, emblazoned with the words: “Salamander Escort Agency.”
~
The captain sat in a lotus position, meditating in his paved courtyard as the falling leaves of Autumn flit about to the melody of a guzheng played by his wife, a middle-aged woman adorned with jewelry depicting the feathers of peacocks. His twin sons, strapping teenage lads who took after their father in stature and poise, sparred with one another using wooden blades as a slave girl dressed in rags hung up clothes in a grass patch to dry in the wind.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A delay.
Knock. Knock.
The lady of the home ceased her playing, looking to the captain’s sons.
“Boys.”
The two withdrew their crossed weapons and walked to their father, picking up and brandishing bronze shortswords. The two turned toward the door with pomp. The captain smiled, proud as a father, and called to the entrance.
“You may enter, messenger.”
Following the captain’s beckon, a boy no older than his sons entered his demesne. He wore a hat and a haggard tunic filled with patches, holding a bamboo club at his side. He smelt of rotting fish and drew flies with his steps, his face filled with stubble.
The Beggar’s Sect?
The beggar smiled, his teeth yellowed and disheveled as his outer appearance.
“You have a job request, Captain Zhào.”
Lady Zhào was the first to reply, slamming her instrument in indignity.
“Why is a beggar like you making a request? You won’t even be able to pay the fee to consult him! My husband has many jobs to take and is resting after finishing his previous-”
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Zhào stood up from his seat and yelled over her voice.
“Do not interfere with my business, woman!”
The proud captain turned to the beggar, who was picking his nose and flicking off his snot, and bowed at a right angle.
“Emissary, my wife is a fool.”
The beggar gave him no heed, focused on his fingers.
“I can tell.”
He peered at Zhào from beneath his dirty fingernail.
“How about we have some privacy?”
Zhào quickly assented.
“Of course. Boys, escort your mother into the home. Slave girl, follow them.”
As he commanded, so it was. He chuckled under his breath at the scowling face of his wife as she and her sons all moved into their rooms. Shifting his attention back to the beggar, Zhào moved his hands behind his back, talking to him proudly.
“Now, what business does a representative of the Beggar’s Sect have, delivering a message to a mere captain such as I?”
The beggar laid his hand on his cane, drumming his fingers on it.
“Nothing much. There’s a client we need you to guard. Our Sect has recently come into possession of some rug businesses here in Yǐng, and we wanted to sell the rugs in Hándān. There are three vessels in the caravan, but put your strongest men near the merchant. Deliver the merchant selling our product. Up-front pay is 15 gold coins, with 20 gold coins as a payment upon completion. Distribute it as you will among your men.”
I could buy a house in the capital with the down payment alone, but…
Zhào stroked his goatee in a regal fashion, raising an eyebrow.
“Just how much cargo is there for you to be able to pay me this much?”
The beggar lowered his head, obscuring his face with his raggedy bamboo hat. Beneath the covering, a few of his teeth were visible, including a polished copper implant inside. The disheveled boy raised his head with a more business-ready posture and face.
“You’re trying to get at how many wagons you’re protecting, right? Don’t worry, it’s only three.”
Zhào clenched his hand behind his back.
Then there’s no way that they’ll sell enough to make back that expense. So why are they paying me this much?
Captain Zhào’s eyes widened as he realized the situation he was in.
“And, might I ask, why are you not requesting that a higher-up work with you? I may be strong, but you have many customers in the Salamander Escort Agency who are stronger than me.”
The beggar tilted his head, speaking matter-of-factly.
“If you know our rope to Heaven is sturdy, why not climb it?”
A non-answer, huh? As the saying goes: “There is no place free from the eyes of beggars.” The Beggar's Sect does not sell anything other than information. I’m protecting an information broker, and the “merchant” title has to be a fa?ade. I don’t want to get caught up in that shady business, but...
He gripped his arm behind his back.
If I reject a request from the Beggar’s Sect, it’s career suicide, and if I fail a request from the Beggar’s Sect, it’s literal suicide. No, wait-
The captain smiled so wide it almost appeared to be a grimace.
Ah, his reply wasn’t a non-answer but rather the very thing I’m most interested in. The Beggar’s Sect holds power over not only the Great Orthodox Alliance but also the Unorthodox Sects and even the Demonic Cult when it was still around. My job might be dangerous, but just imagining what I could do with a little recognition from the Beggars’ Sect…
“When would you have us set out?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
Zhào’s eyes widened after hearing the time.
What kind of absurd-
He quickly stifled his thoughts.
It doesn't change anything- I still need to do this.
“And one last thing- don’t tell anyone that we were the ones that hired you.”
He extended his arms in front of him in a farmer’s fold and bowed, to which the beggar responded likewise.
“As you say, it shall be done. This… servant will ensure that.”
–
As dawn approached, Captain Zhào stood in the courtyard once more, gathering his thoughts and watching the leaves as they whipped up in little whirlwinds as dragonflies danced with them in the air.
I have eleven men under me, but I’ll need fifteen to meet our organization’s minimum standard to guard three small vessels. I’d normally ignore it to cut costs, but this project cannot seem strange in any way in the records of the Salamander Escort Agency.
He stamped his foot on the ground and motioned to the slave girl, who was cleaning the wooden porch of the house. She was looking down, trying to complete the task at hand. He clicked his tongue.
“Méi!”
The girl set aside her laundering task and approached with a dutiful bow.
“Go into the outer districts and find three able-bodied vagabonds. I do not care who they are as long as they have the strength and fortitude to keep a weapon steady. Make yourself presentable in decoration and decorum, so as not to reflect poorly on my household.”
She bowed and left to her room in the lady’s wing. Zhào sauntered around the courtyard, looking at his glorious home with a noble smile on his face. This was his land- his kingdom. He was a ruler here, and soon, he’d be a ruler over even more. He stepped on a dry branch, startling him out of his thoughts.
Wait… even if the beggars recognize my talent, there are others that they're in contact with that are stronger and smarter than me. With all of their informants, they always hire top-notch escorts, so why not now?
He grit his teeth, disturbed by the results of his past spontaneity.
Just what are they trying to do?
In the corner of his eye, he spotted something he had not noticed before in his courtyard- a small mound, brimming with large black ants about the size of his knuckles, all marching out in different directions. A group of young mantises had noticed the strange movement and were picking them off one by one, careful not to get in each other’s way. Zhào stroked his goatee at the sight.
If there even is such a thing, the ant general must be a fool, spreading so many forces thinly. And yet, so many in my line of work would do far worse. Maybe this ant general could become a pavilion leader if it had a few connections!
He chuckled to himself, feeling both humored and saddened by the state of his organization. Suddenly, a larger ant left the mound, moving slowly yet surely, separately from any of its fellow ants.
There is the little general now- her Majesty, queen of the ants! She must be very confident in her strength, leaving her retinue behind to die and marching on her own.
Zhào expected to find that the queen ant would be eaten within seconds, yet it managed to slowly move across the courtyard, unimpeded by anything. The mantises, which were busy gorging themselves on the ants across the courtyard, did not notice the queen pass by them. It successfully reached another, presumably empty mound, and entered its gate. As Zhào stared, it dawned on him that this could be the very thing he was wondering about.
I’ve played right into their hands. I’m an ant. The reason they gave me so much money for so little cargo was to get me to depart at their unreasonable time- first thing tomorrow, and to make it too good to reject. They would not have hired me if they had not already run out of others to hire. I’m definitely not the only one that’s accepted this quest, and I’m definitely not the only one leaving this city tomorrow on account of it.
The captain sighed forcefully, taking his seat on a stone chair next to a stone table, his elbow propping up his chin.
This is a diversionary tactic, where only one caravan is bringing the true cargo. But for what? Whatever it is doesn’t matter anymore- we're either the bait or, in the worst case…
He glanced at the largest praying mantis, eating a larger ant it had dispatched the minute prior.
We're the prey of someone that even the Beggar's Sect is afraid of.
Zhào stomped on the ground, scaring the mantis into flight, and drew a spear from a rack of gaudy weaponry at the side of the training ground. The bug stilled itself, hoping to camouflage into the tree as the goliath across from the courtyard steadily approached it.
Well, two can play at this game of diversions. Just because someone might die,
The commander lightly flicked a sunflower seed at the mantis, which the bug deftly caught and crushed. He sliced the insect clean in half the instant its attention was off of him.
doesn’t mean that I will.
The slave girl slid open the screen doors of the household, adorned by a humble gown, with her glossy black hair propped up with a comb. Noticing the captain, Méi stood in front of him and bowed, her arms in a farmer’s fold. Her shrill voice leaked out from her hunched figure.
“I am ready to leave, sir. Please tell me what each new hire will be paid.”
Zhào replied indifferently to his trembling servant.
“Yes, I would like you to promise each hire one gold coin to be paid out at the end of our journey.”
“Understood. I will be heading out.”
As the slave girl turned to leave, Zhào caught her sleeve, and pulled her down by her arm. He growled words between his gritted, smiling teeth.
“Kneel. Now.”
Méi knelt on the ground, kowtowing to him as he gripped her shoulder harder with each word.
“We have spoken about this. You are not to leave unless I give you express permission.”
She quaked in fear, her flowy dress shivering like a broom being struck after use.
“Yes, master. Your servant has forgotten.”
He released his hand, motioning her to rise. His voice rebounded from the low tone from before to the more noble one he had used with the beggar.
“Please, also head to the Mercenary’s Guild, and call for mercenary Hǔ on behalf of Commander Zhào of the Salamander Escort Agency.”
“Yes, master.”
Zhào cracked a smile, genuinely this time. He spoke sweet lines of honey.
“You may go.”
The slave girl bowed her head once more and left the premises. Zhào stroked his well-kept goatee, grinning toothily and looking at the sky.
“You shouldn't have hired a man like me, beggar. Not when I can beat you at your own game.”
Author's Note
Names & Their Meanings
- Zhào (照) — The name Zhào means “shining,” “to illuminate,” and “to reflect”
- Méi (梅) — The name Méi means “plum blossom,” one of the most cherished flowers in Chinese culture. It blooms in late winter and early spring, often emerging through frost and snow, symbolizing perseverance, resilience, and purity.