Chapter 1073:

In the capital, the Jiangnan region, the northwest, and the two Liao territories, young women everywhere secretly hang portraits, day and night yearning for that peerless, celestial figure.

At some point, that child in lavish brocade robes sneaked up behind Xu Baozao, suddenly lunging forward, attempting to wrap his arms around the slender waist of the young maiden—likely under the guise of childish innocence to take liberties.

Unexpectedly, Xu Baozao swiftly sidestepped and delivered a resounding slap to his face. The crisp sound echoed, and in an instant, the entire Guan Nan Terrace fell into dead silence.

Xu Fengnian gave the girl a thumbs-up in approval.

The child clutched his face, seemingly on the verge of tears, but his eyes were venomous.

The fan-wielding young master was stunned, then furious, shrieking in a shrill voice, “You wretched girl, you’re asking for death!”

The refined woman who had been watching from the sidelines suddenly erupted with an imposing aura upon seeing the child struck—a presence cultivated from generations of aristocratic upbringing, unrelated to wealth or scholarly heritage, but tied solely to a lineage of nobility and privilege. Yet she did not immediately demand justice. Instead, she slowly walked to the child, shielding him behind her, and coldly addressed Xu Fengnian and Xu Baozao: “Why did you strike him? The children of the Fufeng Ma Clan do not need outsiders to discipline them.”

Xu Baozao frowned.

The Fufeng Ma Clan of the two Liao territories, flourishing under the new dynasty’s momentum, was one of the most rapidly expanding aristocratic families from Liaodong in the Central Plains. Among them, Ma Hengzhou served as the Deputy Magistrate of Liuzhou in Jiangnan, Ma Hengchuan as the Deputy General of Jianzhou in Guangling, and the clan patriarch, Ma Ningping, was a pillar of stability, holding the prestigious position of Grand Scholar of the Xianwen Pavilion in the capital court—one of the few esteemed leaders of the northern literati. Thus, the Fufeng Ma Clan was a rare blend of martial and scholarly prowess, a rising star in the imperial court, not to be underestimated.

Xu Baozao remained unshaken. “So what if you’re from the Fufeng Ma Clan of Liaodong?! At such a young age, he dares to exploit his youth for lewd behavior. If I don’t teach him a lesson, should I just let him take advantage?”

The Ma woman showed little anger, replying calmly, “You’re right. A lowly servant girl like you isn’t even worthy of being taken advantage of. In Liaodong, women like you are sold by the pound.”

Xu Fengnian looked at the haughty Liaodong woman and asked, “Then how much are you worth?”

She smiled faintly. “At least half a province’s worth. Don’t believe me?”

Xu Fengnian chuckled. “In today’s world, you might indeed be worth that price. But…”

Just then, the child hiding behind his sister sneered maliciously, “Lowborn scum pretending to be nobility, parading around with maids—how pathetic! You two are a perfect match: trash and mutt, destined to rot together. Tsk, I wonder if your ‘soft brush’ even fits the ‘inkwell.’ Disgusting. Pitiful.”

Fortunately, Xu Baozao didn’t understand the metaphor, only that it was far from kind.

The white-robed young master smirked knowingly, while the fan-wielding man burst into unrestrained laughter. “What a pairing—soft brush and inkwell! No wonder these two dogs roll around day and night, sweating buckets, yet remain a virgin boy and maiden!”

Xu Fengnian rubbed his chin, amused. “Since when did men of the two Liao territories only wag their tongues? Weren’t you known for settling disputes with fists? I heard Ma Ningping led the Xianwen Pavilion officials to brawl with the Chongwen Pavilion—quite the spectacle.”

The Ma woman smiled thinly. “Enough nonsense. Name your price for the maid. I’ll buy her for my brother. Or refuse, and face the consequences.”

Xu Fengnian pointed at her. “Do you know what women like you become in times of chaos? Livestock tied to the grinding stones of war.”

The well-read woman paused, studying him for the first time. Common scholars wouldn’t know such obscure historical references. Was he also a hidden scion of a great clan?

But she quickly dismissed the thought. Her family’s current standing made such concerns trivial.

Her sister had just married Huangfu Ping, a rising star of the Liang faction in the capital. From Governor of Youzhou to Left Fengyi of the Three Supports, his rank was below the Six Ministers but above Vice Ministers—a meteoric rise to the imperial core.

Moreover, Huangfu Ping, long unmarried in Beiliang, was known for his restraint in matters of the flesh. His union with her sister was a natural match, far from a forced political alliance.

Xu Fengnian sighed. “Seeing you, I can guess your sister isn’t much better. Of all choices, Huangfu Ping picked a Ma woman—smart for a lifetime, foolish in a moment. This misstep ruins his chance to lead the Liang faction. Or perhaps he overplayed his hand, thinking he could suppress the others so soon?”

The woman’s expression darkened. “Such bold words!”

Xu Fengnian grinned. “I call it speaking truth with conviction. If Huangfu Ping were here, he’d take it to heart.”

She smiled without showing teeth—graceful as a noble lady, or deeply calculating. Like many Liaodong elites, she viewed all lands south of the two Liao as “the South.” Her travels had exposed her to both highborn scholars and brilliant but arrogant commoners, all spouting grandiose theories. Southern scholars, in her eyes, were effete—unable to wield a blade, ride a horse, or draw a bow. Unlike other regions, the two Liao were a land of war, second only to the northern frontier. Its people were hardy; otherwise, how could it have birthed a butcher like Xu Xiao?

She dismissed the man’s bravado, unimpressed.

A bear emerging from the forest wouldn’t heed the antics of a fox.

She meant no true malice, only to teach him a lesson.

Like the saying: An immortal soaring on a sword cares not for the sorrows of ants beneath.

“So,” she asked, “are you a scholar or a martial artist?”

Xu Fengnian countered, “Does it matter?”

She nodded. “If the former, state your lineage. If the latter, spar with my friend and settle this today.”

Before Xu Fengnian could answer, Xu Baozao bluffed, “My lord is a renowned hero of the realm! Today, he merely forgot his sword—”

Xu Fengnian cut her off, grabbing the child’s shoulder and hurling him away like a discarded rag.

The child screamed as he arced through the air, vanishing into the distance.

Xu Baozao gaped. Xu Fengnian chuckled. “In the martial world, actions speak louder than words. Less talk, more doing.”

The entire Guan Nan Terrace was stunned.

The young master, a minor grandmaster, darted to the Ma woman’s side, eyeing Xu Fengnian warily.

The Ma heiress finally shed her composure, eyes reddening. “What have you done to my brother?! You madman!”

Xu Fengnian replied solemnly, “He’d grow into a scourge. Consider it saving your clan future trouble.”

She lunged at him, only for the young master to restrain her. The latter bowed slightly. “Sir, your aura suggests a Daoist grandmaster’s refinement. A figure of your stature need not trouble with juniors. May I ask your esteemed name?”

Xu Fengnian waved off Xu Baozao’s retort. “I know how to reason with people. No need for lessons. Now, which sect’s disciple are you?”

The dashing youth stepped forward, fists clasped. “I am Wei Hongji, disciple of the ‘Music Sage.’”

Xu Baozao tugged Xu Fengnian’s sleeve, whispering nervously, “The Music Sage is Sima Guanyin of Jiagu Terrace, a recluse for sixty years. They say his musical Dao is unfathomable, second only to the blind qin master Xue Songguan. Aren’t you scared?”

Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes. “Never heard of him.”

The “Four Sages” emerged during Xuan Yuan Qingfeng’s reign over the central plains’ martial world. Back then, she dominated three of the Xiangfu era’s fourteen peaks, while Sima Guanyin claimed the qin peak. His disciple Lu Jiejun frequented the martial world, maintaining ties with Huishan’s Snowy Plateau and the Ministry of Justice in Tai’an City, making Jiagu Terrace one of the ten great sects. Xu Fengnian had met Lu Jiejun and the “Spear Sage” Li Houzhong en route to Beiliang, though they clashed with Chen Tianyuan of the Taibai Sword Sect. The so-called Four Sages were far from terrestrial immortals—Li Houzhong, the strongest, was only at the Finger Mystic realm. Had they dared face the temperamental Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, they’d have been humiliated. Hence, none ever visited the Ox Horn Heights.

The “Chess Sage” Ma Guanhai was dubbed “Drunk Ma Eleven, Sober Ma Half-Ten”—meaning his drunken play occasionally surpassed even Fan Changhou, the world’s top player, while sober, he still outmatched most masters. The last, the “First Sage,” was Fu Fu, a qi cultivator outside the Nanhai Guanyin Sect, an inexplicably brilliant figure.

Xu Fengnian suspected Fu Fu was the one secretly shadowing Tong Shanquan.

Xu Baozao muttered, “Should we… vanish?”

Her meaning was clear: Given their opponent’s backing, perhaps they should flee. After all, Xu Fengnian’s escape skills were unparalleled.

Xu Fengnian smiled. “At least you’ve some conscience left.”

She instantly reverted, arms crossed. “Then go ahead and die for glory. I’ll collect your corpse.”

Xu Fengnian sighed unexpectedly. “Collecting corpses…”

After the Battle of Jubei City, the girl Jia Jia had carried back many central plains masters’ bodies.

Somehow, Xu Fengnian felt the current martial world lacked true grandmasters.