Xu Fengnian stood motionless by the water’s edge, still holding the embroidery winter sword upright and the spring thunder sword reversed in an odd posture.
The old sword saint did not speak, only descending gracefully from the tips of the reeds after confirming the young female assassin had retreated. In the cultivation of martial cultivation, most people progress gradually, accumulating strength before unleashing it, even facing the struggle of going against the current where stagnation means regression. Li Chungan himself was an example of this. After reaching the pinnacle of sword cultivation, he encountered a series of setbacks, his mind unsettled, not only failing to cross the threshold but instead falling further and further from the realm of earthly immortals. However, some rare geniuses can leap forward in cultivation through great opportunities. In the past hundred years, there was Qi Xuanzhen, followed by the new Taoist patriarch of Wudang, who reached the level of heavenly phenomena in a single step, and the female dharma queen of Landuo Mountain. These peculiar prodigies mostly chase an elusive supreme Dao of heaven. If they grasp it, they become dragons; if not, they remain obscure for life, beyond the scope of ordinary understanding. Others, like Wu Liuding, cultivate through combat, nurturing their realm through battle. The young prince before him was somewhat similar to the Wu family’s sword champion, breaking and then rebuilding. However, the sudden rise in cultivation is like lighting a candle in a dark room—its brilliance is fleeting, a momentary flash that cannot last. How much profound insight one can gain afterward depends entirely on fate and talent. Even someone as brilliant as Li Chungan could not escape this pattern. What difference does one miraculous sword strike make? To become an earthly immortal? Not yet. In the old sword saint’s view, aside from the unfortunate Wang Mingyin who was assassinated, among the remaining nine top experts in the current world, only Wang Xianzhi had truly entered the realm of earthly immortals. Deng Ta’a was probably at the same level as he was when he first ascended Longhu Mountain, still a hair’s breadth short of becoming a celestial immortal. That tiny gap might as well be a thousand miles. The path of martial cultivation truly has no end.
Xu Fengnian exhaled slowly, showing no sign of fatigue after the life-or-death battle. The great Huangting cultivation technique was indeed wondrous. He turned to help Wei Shuyang up. The old Taoist of Jiudoumi wore an expression of deep guilt. Shuxiu and Yang Qingfeng, both slightly wounded, took on separate tasks—Shuxiu followed closely behind, while Yang Qingfeng remained to handle the aftermath of Lü Qiantang’s death. The old sword saint stepped lightly on the reeds and departed first, free and unfettered. This sight stirred Pei Nanwei’s heart once again. The events of today had nearly upended the thirty years of peaceful life she had lived as the Princess of Jing’an. The old man in the sheepskin cloak had displayed peerless swordsmanship, his hundred-zhang green serpent strike magnificent beyond words. The light cavalry of Fengzi Camp stood firm against the farmer-warrior without retreating, their two generals leading the charge. Then there was the maid in green, wielding a red spear with divine skill, sacrificing herself to save her master. The seemingly invincible farmer-warrior was slain in a single strike by a strange girl using her hands as blades. On the official road and within the reed marshes, the Beiliang prince had drawn his blade twice, bold and fierce. Was he really the useless playboy the world claimed him to be? Clearly, he was adept at killing enemies and defending himself!
Walking behind Xu Fengnian, Pei Nanwei murmured softly, “Now I finally understand why Zhao Heng would go to any lengths to kill you.”
Seeing that Wei Shuyang was truly unable to walk, Xu Fengnian gently lifted the old Taoist onto his back and replied coldly, “Princess Pei, I am currently considering how to deal with you, so I advise you to speak less. Since Zhao Heng doesn’t care about your life or death, I wouldn’t mind adding another head to the ground. After all, today has already seen plenty of deaths. Zhao Heng said he would send his nephew off for a thousand miles, but he sent Wang Mingyin instead. If the nephew returns with the head of the Princess of Jing’an, I’m sure the Prince of Jing’an will be deeply moved.”
Pei Nanwei fell silent, fearful and speechless.
Suddenly, Xu Fengnian’s tone softened slightly—not for the Princess of Jing’an, but as he quietly asked a servant who stood far below her in rank: “Shuxiu, if you wish to leave, I won’t stop you, and I’ll explain things to Xu Xiao on your behalf.”
Shuxiu seemed completely taken aback by the prince’s unexpected openness. After a moment of hesitation, she gazed at his back, stained with dust and blood, and softly asked, “Prince, will there be more battles like this in the future, where death is always near?”
Xu Fengnian glanced at the sky and nodded. “Not necessarily. If there are, they’ll likely be even more dangerous than today. If you don’t leave now, I will still regard you as a disposable piece on the chessboard without hesitation.”
Shuxiu simply replied, “Okay.” A gentle breeze brushed past, carrying the faint fragrance of reeds. Shuxiu, who loved beauty, reached up to smooth the strands of hair fluttering across her forehead, gazing at the sky alongside the prince. She smiled and asked, “If I stay, will there be any benefits? You know, I’ve always been a rather petty person.”
Unexpectedly, Xu Fengnian stopped walking and turned to smile. “I’ve known for a while that you’ve had your eye on my body, but this matter, I really can’t agree to so easily.”
Wei Shuyang, seriously injured but still clear-minded, stroked his beard and smiled without speaking. Hearing this, Shuxiu, whose secret desires had been exposed, blushed and then burst into tears of laughter. Xu Fengnian looked at the charming woman before him and smiled, “Shuxiu, you’re actually quite beautiful. Truly.”
Shuxiu, rarely daring to tease him in return, said, “The whole of Beiliang knows that when the prince speaks from beneath the bed, it’s always the truth.”
Walking along a green path, Xu Fengnian occasionally reached out to brush aside the tangled reeds. “You really won’t leave?”
Shuxiu smiled and said, “Still thinking about it.”
Xu Fengnian hesitated slightly before saying, “If you go, I’ll give you silver, I’ll give you secret manuals. If you stay, Shuxiu, I ask you—do you want to be a queen for once?”
Shuxiu’s heart trembled slightly and she asked cautiously, “A queen?”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “The Princess of Jing’an.”
Shuxiu tested the idea carefully. “With such a beauty as the Princess of Jing’an, even with disguise, it would still be difficult to imitate.”
Xu Fengnian nodded as well, just beginning to stir a wave of curiosity in Shuxiu like the reeds swaying in the marsh, before saying nothing more. He seemed to completely ignore Princess Pei Nanwei walking behind them.
Wei Shuyang felt it was undignified to be carried by the prince and said, “Your Highness, this old Taoist can walk on my own.”
Xu Fengnian laughed. “No problem, no problem. When I was little, I always had Grandpa Wei carry me up and down the Tingchao Pavilion. It’s my turn now.”
Wei Shuyang sighed with a smile, his expression tinged with the weariness of age.
Pei Nanwei and Shuxiu, each lost in their own thoughts, walked silently behind the old and young pair.
The wind rose and fell, the reeds swayed, and finally, they reached the end of the path.
The official road was full of potholes and in terrible condition, filled with an unspoken air of grimness. Xu Fengnian first settled Wei Shuyang into a carriage, the previous one carrying Qingniao, whose fate was still uncertain. However, seeing the old and calm demeanor of Li Chungan, Xu Fengnian relaxed slightly. He ordered Shuxiu to gather the armor of the Fujiang Hongjia carefully. Finally, he approached Wang Mingyin’s corpse. Wang Mingyin was one of the top martial artists in the world. Before, he had only heard from Xu Xiao about the battle for Xiangfan in a few brief words. Although Wang Mingyin was the younger brother of Xiangfan’s Confucian general Wang Yangming, he had profound insights into the great wars of the Spring and Autumn states. Once, he had strongly advised Wang Yangming to abandon the city and retreat into seclusion together, but the latter, devoted to the art of war, insisted on sacrificing himself for justice. Wang Mingyin could only watch helplessly as the tragedy unfolded. Therefore, he bore no deep hatred toward Xu Xiao. He merely left behind a vow not to allow any Xu family member into Xiangfan. Today, he came to fulfill that vow, only to find that instead of taking the head of the Beiliang prince, he himself was betrayed and assassinated by a supposed ally. The eleventh-ranked martial artist in the world was now gone, leaving a vacancy that would stir countless martial artists in the jianghu.
Xu Fengnian picked up the golden soft sword and examined it carefully. General Ning Ebrow stood silently behind him. Xu Fengnian placed the sword beside Wang Mingyin’s body and asked, “General Ning, how is your right arm?”
Ning Ebrow knelt on one knee and lowered his head, his voice heavy. “It’s nothing serious. But I failed to fulfill my duty, nearly causing the prince great harm. I beg the prince to punish me!”
Xu Fengnian stood up and looked toward the distant dust kicked up by galloping horses, shaking his head with a smile. “Whether or not to punish you can be decided later. For now, bury Wang Mingyin properly in the reed marshes. After all, he was the eleventh-ranked martial artist in the world. If you’re worried about Fengzi Camp’s resentment, let Shuxiu and Yang Qingfeng handle it later.”
Ning Ebrow shook his head. “Fengzi Camp follows the prince’s orders without question!”
Xu Fengnian whistled, and his horse galloped toward him. He leapt onto it and, passing by the carriage where Li Chungan and Jiang Ni were, grabbed the spear called Channa. Then, he rode forward with the spear, leading dozens of light cavalry, and coldly ordered, “Draw swords!”
In an instant, dozens of fierce riders drew their swords in unison, standing alongside the prince to face the thunderous hooves approaching on the official road. From the sound, there were at least five hundred Qingzhou heavy cavalry.
Eighty light cavalry from Beiliang faced six hundred heavy cavalry from Qingzhou. On the opposing side, amidst the glinting swords and dark armor, a man in a grand yellow dragon robe led the charge, flanked by a mighty general clad in thick armor, wielding a silver-white pear-blossom spear adorned with red tassels, exuding an imposing presence. The general seemed to exchange a few words with the man in the yellow robe before riding forward alone. Without hesitation, Xu Fengnian charged ahead with his spear. When they were a hundred paces apart, the Qingzhou general, sensing the overwhelming killing intent, suppressed his initial arrogance and furrowed his brow, determined to easily defeat this elegantly dressed young nobleman with a single spear strike. If not for the Prince of Jing’an’s warning not to harm him, he would have already taught the Beiliang prince a harsh lesson on behalf of the Qingzhou soldiers.
At fifty paces, the general saw the young man’s momentum intensifying, showing no sign of stopping to talk. A surge of anger rose in him—how could this arrogant fool not know his place!
With a flick of his wrist, he charged forward with his spear, the red tassel twirling, performing a dazzling flourish that earned cheers from the Qingzhou cavalry.
The two riders clashed in an instant.
The silver-white pear-blossom spear was casually deflected by the elegantly dressed young nobleman with one hand. In the same motion, his crimson and eerie long spear struck like lightning, piercing through armor. The spear bent into a breathtaking arc, forcefully stopping the mighty general’s chest. As the two horses passed each other, the general’s chest armor shattered, and he was thrown from his horse, landing heavily on the official road. The white horse, red spear, and nobleman calmly turned in a circle, leisurely facing the six hundred Qingzhou elite cavalry once more. With a slight flick of his spear, he splattered a string of blood droplets onto the ground, then turned his gaze toward the man in the dark yellow robe and smiled, “Uncle Jing’an, judging by this grand display, are you really going to see your nephew off for a thousand miles?”
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