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Mention Big Zhao anywhere in Kaifeng, and you'll hear nothing but praise. Though he wasn't often seen, those who did run into him were almost always in luck. Doesn't matter if you're close or just an acquaintance—if you've run into trouble and mention it to him, he'll go out of his way to pull strings and find someone who can help. Ask him how he pulled it off, and he just gives you a quiet smile. Eventually, the neighbors started spinning their own tales. Wild guesses about who he really was, where he came from, what kind of hidden background he might have. And yet, every time they saw him again, that plain, honest face always made them doubt their own imaginations. Could someone like him really be some high-born noble?

That day, Big Zhao sat at the teahouse for a long while. Unusually quiet. No banter, no jokes, no idle gossip. He simply watched the people come and go. It was only after the Tang Coin incident at the Forsaken Quarter that he began to see things he'd never noticed before. The court's effort to eliminate Tang coins wasn't just a campaign for monetary unification, it was also to protect Song citizens from the volatility of a foreign mint. That logic, that intention, was meant to trickle down through the official ranks until it reached the people. But the mess they were in now, how many layers of neglect, schemes, and dark intentions had twisted the message beyond recognition? He had walked so many roads, and yet had only seen Kaifeng. And Kaifeng, after all, sat beneath the emperor's feet. What, then, might lie beyond its walls? He stood up, and walked north toward the high walls.