In a grand mansion, the central gate is never left open, especially for an influential and deeply rooted aristocratic family like the Lu Clan. It would not open its central gate for just any visitor; even the governor of Hutian Prefecture or a provincial inspector like those governing vast territories would hardly be granted such an honor. The central gate symbolizes the family’s prestige. Within the Lu residence, hidden among its many talents and scholars, there were hundreds of retainers. Although only steward Lu Dongyang had been sent to deal with the crowd outside, many eyes were secretly observing the situation. Yet, when the Northern Liang light cavalry removed the gate, the Lu family did not send forth any loyal retainers. Instead, a middle-aged Confucian scholar emerged, wearing a pure yang headpiece and simple cloth shoes. His attire was plain and frugal, with a young, bright-looking pageboy following behind him, carrying an ancient sword. The sheath was made of black sandalwood wrapped in Mermaid Skin of the South Sea (Nanhai Jiao Pi), different from the chilling aura of other famous swords. When sheathed, this sword exuded no coldness at all.
The middle-aged man in frugal garb glanced at the dead steward in the courtyard and sighed softly. The central gate had been noisily removed, and now Captain Yuan Meng and this scholar faced each other.
The Lu family man slightly bowed and said calmly, “Today, the Lu family has failed in its hospitality. Lu Dongyang, as a steward, deserves punishment, but not death. Repayment must be repaid in kind.”
Yuan Meng recognized the threat and gripped his Northern Liang saber tightly. The aura of a seasoned warrior was naturally different from that of a martial artist.
The scholar, whose pageboy carried a sword instead of books, bowed again and faced the old man in sheepskin on the distant carriage, dozing off. This time, he bowed deeply, saying, “Your junior, Lu Baijie of Hutian Prefecture, was gifted the ancient sword Bashiu at age eleven and has practiced swordsmanship for thirty-six years. I humbly request instruction from Senior Li.”
Upon hearing the name Bashiu, the old sword sage slowly opened his eyes, glanced, and nodded. “Indeed, it was the sword once worn by Yang Yuzhang. This old fellow, limited by his own talent, had mediocre sword skills, but his taste was not bad. Back then, when I fought enemies, I always got headaches whenever I saw him watching. However, Yang Yuzhang once said he would never take a disciple in his life. How did you come to possess this last sword forged at the Tangxi sword foundry?”
Lu Baijie, bowing respectfully before Li Chungan, smiled and said, “Perhaps because my childhood name was Tangxi, I met my master by chance and was gifted the Bashiu sword and half a sword manual. For thirty-six years, I have never slackened. My master spoke highly of you, saying your Two Sleeves of Green Snakes technique could dominate the sword world for fifty years. I have long admired you. Today, I dare to draw my sword, partly out of necessity due to my position as a Lu family member, but more to test my thirty-six years of self-taught swordsmanship. If I lose, I beg Senior not to take it out on the Lu family.”
The old man in sheepskin grumbled, “Your tone is exactly like Yang Yuzhang’s. Go ahead and try. If you only have Yang Yuzhang’s sword techniques but not his sword philosophy, then I won’t bother. Who wants to have a grudge with you lot, the kind of aristocratic families that won’t die easily, like beating flies in a latrine with a bamboo pole—you’re bound to get splattered with filth. I didn’t believe in that nonsense back then, and I got a big loss from that lame Xu…”
He stopped himself here; revealing his own shortcomings was not his usual style.
Lu Baijie smiled casually, extended two fingers, and gently brushed the scabbard, half-drawing the famous sword Bashiu.
At that moment, familiar footsteps approached from behind, and a woman called out, “Uncle.” Lu Baijie, the youngest and most easygoing among the seven treasures of the Hutian Lu family, sighed and slid his fingers back along the sword, sheathing Bashiu. Everyone caught only a glimpse of a brilliant blue edge. Lu Baijie was the youngest son of the previous Lu family head, Lu Xuanhua, twenty years younger than the current head, Lu Daolin. Born a concubine’s son, he was gifted and intelligent, but indifferent to fame and fortune, not interested in the Confucian Three Immortalities. He was passionate about swordsmanship and remained unmarried, naturally without any offspring. He rarely appeared in the Lu family. If there was any family member with influence who was close to the widow, it was only Lu Baijie. Without children of his own, he largely regarded Xu Zhihu as a half-daughter. Many signs of trouble, had he not secretly quelled them, would have long caused chaos in the Lu family. Take, for example, the daughter-in-law whose father was the head of the Gu Mu Xu family; she had made many underhanded moves. But out of consideration for her status as a widow and pity for her grief over losing her son, how could Lu Baijie tolerate such disgrace in the Lu household?
With the central gate removed, a matter serious enough to shake the province, no matter how restricted Xu Zhihu was within the Lu family, she received the news immediately, confirming that her younger brother had arrived in Yangchun City. Who else could commit such a shocking act? How could she possibly blame him! But the Lu family was still her nominal home; things couldn’t get too out of hand, especially since her father-in-law, Lu Xuanlang, could go to any lengths for the sake of face. Which scholar doesn’t cherish his reputation? She smiled playfully and called out “Uncle” again to Lu Baijie, who responded with an expression of helplessness. Without bothering with the few kind elders in the family, she ran out of the main gate. All the fierce light cavalry dismounted and knelt on one knee, respectfully saying, “The Fengzi Camp of Northern Liang pays homage to Princess Zhihu.” Xu Zhihu ignored them, looking left and right, but couldn’t find her younger brother’s gentle, ever-smiling face, which she often dreamed of. She was immediately overwhelmed with disappointment. The maid Qingniao could barely walk, her face still pale and sickly. As she was about to kneel, Xu Zhihu, showing a look of fear that quickly vanished, rushed forward to support her, biting her lip and whispering, “Where is Fengnian?”
Qingniao softly replied, “The Prince went to Jiangxin Prefecture and said he would return to Yangchun City tonight.”
Xu Zhihu stamped her foot, her eyes reddening as she murmured, “That fool!”
She took a deep breath and spoke with authority, “Follow me into the estate.”
Who would dare stop Lu Baijie, who belonged to the same generation as Lu Daolin and Lu Xuanlang? His prestigious status as an aristocratic scion was reason enough, but his other identity was even more intimidating. In the martial world rankings, a special sword ranking listed Lu Baijie of Hutian Prefecture in Yang Province. His sword intent was described as righteous and grand, and though his sword bore the word “dominant,” it was truly a king’s sword!
The Lu family’s courtyard was deep and intricate, a typical Jiangnan garden style. Though its scale was smaller compared to the estates of the other three major families, this residence, named Zhuoxin Garden, had hosted six emperors and was the most famous. The artificial mountains and rocks in the garden were crafted by the foremost rock-piling master, each peak and crevice exuding vitality and carefully arranged. It was praised by the late emperor as uniquely creative and unparalleled in Jiangnan. Considering that Jiangnan gardens were renowned worldwide, the craftsmanship of Zhuoxin Garden was truly distinctive. The calligraphic inscriptions, couplets, carvings, floral arrangements, and stone tablets were innumerable. Xu Zhihu led the way personally, briefly explaining the essence of garden architecture to Yu Youwei along the way. Lu Baijie, with his sword-carrying pageboy, brought up the rear, just as Old Sword Sage Li Chungan, Jiang Ni, and the Jing’an Princess walked behind. Lu Baijie, who had not drawn his sword that day, asked the old swordsman some questions about sword techniques. The old man, who had some good relations with the late Yang Yuzhang, did not put on much of an air. Although Lu Baijie’s personality was typical of the aristocratic class, his character was ultimately as his sword intent—righteous but not rigid—and they conversed happily. Lu Baijie only gave a brief, indifferent glance at Princess Pei and then looked no more.
Xu Zhihu resided in the Xieyi Garden in the northwest corner. The courtyard was not small, but the number of maids was pitifully few, making it rather desolate. Captain Yuan Meng and the Fengzi Camp were arranged in two courtyards not far away. Upon reaching the courtyard gate, Lu Baijie bowed again before leaving.
Inside the courtyard, Xu Zhihu had her personal maid, Erqiao, bring some iced plum soup. After sitting down, she asked, “What exactly happened on the road?”
Qingniao truthfully reported everything that had occurred in the reed marsh.
Qingniao narrated calmly, but the danger involved was anything but simple twists and turns!
Xu Zhihu’s expression fluctuated with the ups and downs of the story, finally exhaling deeply in relief upon hearing that the young master was safe and sound.
Xu Zhihu turned her head with a strange look toward Pei Nanwei, who still couldn’t sit down properly. This unruly younger brother of hers had really grown up, daring to abduct even a princess!
The entire afternoon until dusk passed peacefully at Xieyi Garden. Xu Zhihu spent the time asking the women about Xu Fengnian, especially enjoying hearing about his embarrassing moments. As for the inevitable turmoil within the Lu family, Xu Zhihu had no interest in getting involved. After a sumptuous dinner, a well-mannered pageboy came to gently knock on the courtyard gate. He came from the smallest garden in the Lu estate, the Retreat Garden. His master, regarded by the people of Yang Province as a swordsman, actually didn’t stay there much. For most of the year, Lu Baijie traveled with this pageboy, visiting mountains and rivers in search of hermits. The one who opened the gate was maid Erqiao. For some reason, the two of the same age didn’t get along well, and now there was a sense of being forced together despite their differences.
Seeing Erqiao, the pageboy said coldly, “My master wishes to see your mistress.”
The atmosphere was already strange, and this sentence only made it more awkward.
Erqiao snorted coldly, said “I know,” and turned to leave.
The pageboy, watching her retreating figure with clear eyes, secretly revealed a hint of regret.
Lu Baijie, sitting in a lakeside pavilion, smiled slightly and murmured to himself, “Already tasting the bitterness of youth.”
Xu Zhihu left the garden and sat in the pavilion, somewhat apologetically saying, “This time I’ve caused trouble for Uncle.”
Lu Baijie, a swordsman of noble lineage without the usual aristocratic vices but possessing the dignity of a true aristocrat, shook his head and said, “It’s not much trouble for Uncle. But now, it will be even harder for you in the Lu family.”
Xu Zhihu shrugged indifferently, “So what? They’ll just smile more falsely in front of me and laugh more coldly behind my back.”
Lu Baijie sighed, “Let’s not talk about the second steward, Lu Dongyang. The Young Prince ordered his men to commit murder in the marketplace. No matter how bad those people were, they were scholars of Hutian Prefecture, one even a descendant of a military family. If the main gate hadn’t been removed, I could have spoken to your brother and had the Lu family handle the mess. At most, we’d give some compensation money and official positions to minor clans. Though buying lives with silver would leave resentment, proper official titles could mostly silence complaints. For your sake, Uncle wouldn’t mind breaking the rules once. But tearing down the Lu family’s main gate and killing Lu Dongyang in front of the entire Hutian family street—your second brother is proud. Not turning against you is already his limit. The Lu family has endured many hardships over centuries, though in recent decades they’ve faced fewer difficulties. Today’s humiliation might even provoke the clan head’s anger.”
Xu Zhihu remained silent.
Lu Baijie frowned, “Zhihu, here and now, just the two of us, Uncle will speak plainly. How can your younger brother, the Young Prince, act so recklessly? Doesn’t he care at all about the court’s reaction? Remember, though your father is powerful, he has made formidable political enemies like Zhang Julu and Gu Jiantang. Moreover, he’s pushing the four great families of Yang Province against Northern Liang. If the Emperor’s decision to demote Lady Xu was his own, it might be manageable. But if it was the Empress’s doing, how much favor will the Xu family still have in the Emperor’s heart? Besides, do you even know who Lady Xu is? The Gu Mu Xu family has practically poured all their resources into her rise. Now, after this catastrophe, the four great families of Yang Province, especially the Gu Mu Xu family, who were once closely allied with our Lu family, will likely no longer stand together with us as before. It’s just like when Quan’er died suddenly—this blame will still fall on you.”
Xu Zhihu looked up and smiled, “I’m used to it.”
Lu Baijie said bitterly, “You, you.”
Xu Zhihu leaned against the red lacquered pillar, gazing into the distance, and softly said, “My younger brother has gone to Jiangxin Prefecture to deal with Liu Liting.”
Lu Baijie said solemnly, “Does he intend to cause more trouble? Doesn’t he fear it will spiral out of control? If someone stirs things up, it won’t just be fame-seekers popping up. This could trigger a chain reaction, even setting the entire Jiangnan Circuit ablaze. Haven’t you seen through the so-called Jiangnan scholars who value reputation over life itself?”
“I know, I’ve seen through them long ago. Everyone in Jiangnan knows how my father-in-law used to say, ‘When justice is at stake, death weighs heavier than Mount Tai.'”
Xu Zhihu narrowed her eyes and smiled, “But my younger brother, perhaps because my father is the King of Northern Liang, doesn’t care much about the things many people fight to keep. Yet, he cherishes deeply the things even poor families might not value. Uncle, your wise words won’t make much of an impression on him.”
Lu Baijie, known as the Tangxi Sword Immortal, sighed, “If I stop him from entering the Lu estate, your life might be easier. But if I try to stop him, whether I can or not, you’ll be the first to turn against me.”
Xu Zhihu laughed heartily without regard for etiquette, “Uncle, being a sword immortal is truly pitiful.”
Lu Baijie looked at her smiling face, his eyes filled with sorrow.
That beloved woman from his youth had also smiled so naturally. If only he had been more resolute back then, less concerned with moralities and the bigger picture, would there still have been regrets?
If only there were so many “if onlys” in this world.
Lu Baijie closed his eyes.
Not far away, the pageboy and maid were clashing like needles against wheat stalks. Would these two children also come to understand the extraordinary nature of “what was once considered ordinary” only after many years?
After Lu Baijie left, Xu Zhihu remained in the pavilion, waiting in vain until late into the night.
When the Young Prince finally appeared outside the Lu estate, a white horse dragging a cold, bloodied corpse.
It was clearly dragged all the way from Jiangxin Prefecture to Hutian Prefecture.
Even though Lu Baijie had anticipated this, upon witnessing the scene, he still felt an overwhelming shock.
Xu Fengnian dismounted and looked up at Lu Baijie. Because of his elder sister Xu Zhihu, he had no ill feelings toward this Tangxi Sword Immortal. However, seeing Lu Baijie with one hand on the hilt of his sword, using the ancient sword Bashiu as a cane, Xu Fengnian said expressionlessly, “Master Tangxi, are you here to lecture me on morality?”
Lu Baijie snorted coldly and turned away.
He felt not only shock but also confusion in his heart.
How had the Northern Liang heir apparent come to be so gravely wounded?
Xu Zhihu ran all the way, leaving the maid Erqiao far behind. She rushed out of the Lu estate gate, stopped not far away, and smiled cheerfully, “Oh, our brother and sister have caused trouble again.”
She didn’t notice the trail of blood behind Xu Fengnian.
When he rode through the city gate dragging the corpse, an assassin, like a gecko clinging to the top of a hole waiting patiently, struck successfully, nearly shattering his spine.
But Xu Fengnian only looked at her with tear-filled eyes and gently said, “Sister, can we go home?”
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