Midnight in Locheng was unnervingly silent, broken only by the occasional scattered gunshots in the distance, like a dull blade slicing the air. Gu Kai followed Old Mu toward the back door of the inn, the coarse canvas scraping against his skin. Underneath, his sunhat bulged awkwardly at his waist. He kept pressing it down with his hand, afraid a quick step might make it pop out.
Aji trailed behind, clutching a cloth bundle of dry rations Old Mu had given them, his footsteps light as a cat's.
"The tunnel entrance's behind the blacksmith's shop," Old Mu whispered from the lead, his voice barely audible. He carried a kerosene lamp turned low, just enough to light the ground at their feet. "Normally it's covered by planks with scrap iron piled on top. Ira's men patrol at night. We've gotta skirt around, stay clear of their flashlights."
The back alley was so narrow only two people could walk side by side. Bullet grooves from earlier in the day still scarred the walls, black marks like open wounds. Moonlight filtered through cracks in the rooftops, scattering patchy shadows on the ground. Gu Kai stepped carefully in those shadows, trying not to make a sound—he remembered how he used to complain about dark streets walking home after overtime. Now he wished even the moonlight would vanish.
"Stop!" Old Mu suddenly pressed down on Gu Kai's shoulder, dragging him into a heap of junk. Gu Kai yanked Aji down with him, peering through a gap in the cardboard boxes. Two soldiers in camo were heading straight toward them, flashlights sweeping the walls, humming an off-key tune.
"Damn it, we've been combing this dump all day and not even a yellow-skin shadow," one soldier muttered, kicking a rock. "Captain says we're pulling an all-nighter. I swear he's just screwing with us."
"No kidding. Heard the granary's running dry. If we don't find food soon, we'll be starving on wind," the other said bitterly. "I overheard the deputy—tomorrow they're bringing in grain from elsewhere. We're stuck guarding this alley so no one leaks the news."
Gu Kai's chest clenched—the granary shortage lined up with what Old Mu had heard earlier. His fingers brushed the Thirty-Six Stratagems in his coat, pausing on the page marked "Besiege Wei to Rescue Zhao." He didn't have time to dwell on it now, but he knew this intel might prove useful later.
When the soldiers finally moved on, Old Mu led them ahead. Sure enough, behind the blacksmith's shop lay a tunnel entrance, covered by planks stacked with rusted anvils. Old Mu pried it open. A damp, earthy smell rushed out. "Quick, inside. It leads outside the city to the grassland. About half an hour's walk."
Aji slipped in first, Gu Kai followed. The tunnel was low and cramped, forcing them to hunch. Dirt crumbled from the ceiling, trickling cold down Gu Kai's collar. He'd barely gone a few steps when footsteps echoed above—the two soldiers had circled back!
"Wait, you hear something down there?" one soldier said overhead, followed by the creak of planks lifting. A flashlight beam cut into the tunnel, sweeping over the walls.
Gu Kai's heart almost burst. Old Mu shoved him deeper in and stepped forward, blocking the light with his body. "O-officer, it's just me, picking scrap iron to sell. Nobody else down here!"
"Scrap iron? At midnight?" Suspicion dripped from the soldier's voice. The flashlight beam landed square on Old Mu's face. "Why does it look like someone's behind you?"
"My nephew—bit slow in the head. Came to help." Old Mu yanked Aji forward. Aji played along, grinning foolishly, mumbling, "Tama… Aba."
Meanwhile, Gu Kai shrank farther back, cinching the canvas tighter around him, terrified the sunhat bulge at his waist would be spotted.
The soldier squinted at Aji, then swept the light deeper into the tunnel. Darkness swallowed everything. With a curse, he snapped the planks shut. "Get lost. Don't loiter here. Next time I see you, I'll drag you in."
Only when the footsteps receded did Gu Kai exhale, his back soaked in sweat.
Old Mu wiped his brow. "Lucky they didn't dig deeper. Come on, move. Dawn's not far off."
The tunnel was tougher than expected. At one point, a cave-in forced them to scramble across rubble. Gu Kai's pants tore, his shin scraped raw. Aji lagged, so Gu Kai carried his bundle, even tugged him forward at times. He remembered how Aji had helped hide his sunhat earlier, teaching him the dialect—warmth stirred in his chest. In this strange land, this simple boy was his only comfort.
After about half an hour, light glimmered ahead. Old Mu whispered, "Almost there. Beyond this, the grassland."
Gu Kai pushed forward. Fresh air rushed in as he emerged, the grassy wind sharp and fragrant compared to the stale earth below.
The horizon paled with dawn. White tents dotted the steppe like cotton tufts scattered across a green blanket. Old Mu pointed. "That's herder Old Ba's camp. I know him—good man. We'll hide there a few days till things cool down."
They had barely gone a few steps when the low rumble of engines rolled over the grass. Gu Kai yanked Aji into the brush. Old Mu crouched, peering out. Three trucks rumbled toward Locheng, Ira's insignia stenciled on the sides. Something heavy filled the beds.
"Grain convoys," Old Mu said firmly. "Those soldiers weren't lying. They're hauling supplies in."
Gu Kai's eyes followed the trucks, then dropped to the Thirty-Six Stratagems at his chest. His grandfather's words echoed: "Know yourself and know the enemy, and you'll never lose." Now he knew Ira's granary was short, and where the grain came from. Like chips in a game, the knowledge itself gave him leverage.
"Kai-ge, what're you thinking?" Aji nudged him, pointing at the tents. "Old Mu says we're here."
Gu Kai snapped back, following them toward the camp. Old Ba emerged at the noise, eyes wide. "Old Mu? What brings you? Trouble in town?"
"Don't ask. Ira staged a coup. He's hunting foreigners. I brought two friends to hide," Old Mu gestured to Gu Kai and Aji. "This is Gu Kai, from China. This is Aji, local kid."
Old Ba sized up Gu Kai, noticing the canvas wrap. He chuckled. "Here to dodge Ira, eh? Don't worry. My tents are safe. Ira's men avoid the grasslands—they can't push herders around easy." He waved them in.
Inside, the tent was warm. A fire pit smoldered in the center, a pot simmering with a sweet, milky smell.
Gu Kai sat by the fire, finally unwrapping the canvas. He pulled out the neon-green sunhat—the brim gleamed garishly in the firelight. Aji burst out laughing. "Kai-ge, that hat's awesome! Looks like a firefly on the steppe."
Gu Kai laughed too, ruffling Aji's hair. "When it's safe, I'll get you one." He set the hat beside him, flipping open the Thirty-Six Stratagems. His gaze lingered on "Crossing the Sea Under Camouflage." His grandfather's note was still there. But Gu Kai now understood—camouflage alone wasn't enough. To truly survive, he'd have to strike back.
Outside, the wind moaned. Firelight flickered across his face. He knew hiding on the grassland was only temporary. Ira's men wouldn't stay blind forever. He had to find a way—either back to China, or to stand against Ira.
And right now, Old Ba's herder camp—and Ira's shortage of grain—might just be the keys.