Why is there such a vast difference between two individuals both considered the greatest martial artists in the jianghu? The old man Li Chungan, with his sheepskin robe and idle habits of picking his ears and scratching his feet, could not be more different from Cao Changqing, who embodies every idealized image of a peerless martial cultivator in the minds of younger generations. Cao is tall and graceful, his aura refined and restrained, his demeanor elegant and otherworldly. Even his kneeling is dramatic and breathtaking. Though he is a man in his twilight years, his presence still carries the mellow richness of a fine aged wine. Women of mature beauty and worldly experience would surely be captivated by his scholarly grace.
Xu Fengnian stood quietly on the steps, observing. Counting on his fingers, he had already encountered three of the Ten Greatest Martial Artists. Yet the ending for Wang Mingyin, that farmer-looking warrior, had been a sudden slash to death by a simple palm strike—how could anyone have foreseen such an outcome? Xu Fengnian noticed Jiang Ni staring blankly at Cao Guanzi, clearly at a loss, hesitating as if wanting to speak. He couldn’t help but smile. This fool never even considered using the situation to her advantage. If she were just a little smarter, she’d be reveling in the presence of such a mighty guardian as Cao Guanzi. She’d be bold enough to seize the moment, letting Cao—the third strongest in the world—grab someone by the collar and nearly crush them to death, or at least punch them into a swollen mess. Xu Fengnian chuckled, then subtly shook his head at his elder sister Xu Zhihu, who stood behind Jiang Ni, signaling her not to act. It would be foolish to overcomplicate things in front of Cao Guanzi. Even if the old sword saint were willing to risk his life to intervene, Cao Changqing could still harm anyone he pleased with ease. The only person capable of making that dignified The Azure-robed Grand Official bow his head was that foolish girl whom he had tormented for years.
The Young Prince could not help but feel resentment; after all, how many Cao Changqings had emerged in a hundred years of martial cultivation, among a million warriors? Strangely, when Jiang Ni caught the smirk on Xu Fengnian’s lips, she instinctively glared fiercely. It was a habitual gesture, harmless in itself, but today was different. With the graceful figure of Cao Guanzi rising nearby, even with his back turned, Xu Fengnian immediately felt a dense aura of killing intent. Cao slowly turned his head and said calmly, “Your Highness, may I ask that the Princess be handed over to me? If you agree, I will do one favor for you, no matter how difficult, as long as it is within my power.”
Within his power? The former minister of a fallen kingdom had already caused two emperors of the Liyang Dynasty to lose sleep. What task could he possibly fail to accomplish? By all logic, Jiang Ni was merely a decorative flower vase brought back to the Beiliang Mansion by the Butcher Xu. She held no real significance. During the Spring and Autumn Periods, among the eight fallen kingdoms, there were countless royal children and consorts—hundreds, perhaps. In the hands of the Prince of Yan and the King of Guangling, beautiful women were reduced to concubines, while the plain ones became court prostitutes. As for the princes, many were executed in groups of ten, their deaths serving as entertainment for the victors’ celebratory feasts. Keeping these former nobles alive and harboring rebellious ambitions would be laughed at as absurd.
If that were the case, what harm would there be in giving away a Western Chu princess? It would even be a way to gain favor with Cao Guanzi, one of the top three martial artists in the world. What reason not to?
The old sword saint, who had revealed that he still had hidden techniques beyond the Two-Sleeved Vipers, paid no attention to the matter. As per their agreement, the old man only needed to ensure the Young Prince’s survival and hoped to teach the little girl, Xiaoniren, swordsmanship. As for the rest of this chaotic mess, he had no intention of getting involved. After all, an eighty-year-old like Li Chungang, who had certainly not wasted his years, understood clearly: as long as Xiaoniren remained by the Young Prince’s side, the chances of her learning swordsmanship were slim. It would be better to sever this karmic entanglement early and travel freely across the world. The old sword saint glanced sideways at the Young Prince with a sense of schadenfreude, curious to see how he would handle the situation. Ever since the Reed Marsh incident, the boy had been terrified of assassins sneaking up on him. He had gritted his teeth and endured the Two-Sleeved Vipers time and again. Such perseverance and ruthlessness were hardly befitting of a prince destined to inherit the Beiliang throne.
Xu Fengnian grinned and said playfully, “No. She’s mine.”
Jiang Ni shouted angrily, “Who is yours!”
Cao Changqing remained calm, perhaps even secretly pleased that his long search had finally ended without effort. His mood did not sour from the Young Prince’s arrogant remark. He smiled and said, “No matter. In time, Your Highness will change your mind.”
Xu Fengnian maintained his carefree attitude, smiling sweetly. “I can’t promise much else, but on this matter, there’s no room for negotiation.”
Cao Changqing glanced at the Young Prince, his smile tinged with amusement. “Your Highness, perhaps you should stop gripping your sword for a moment. Wipe the sweat from your hands, or the sword technique you learned from the Eastern Yue royal family will lose much of its effectiveness.”
Unfazed, Xu Fengnian laughed heartily and indeed released his grip on the twin swords, Spring Thunder and Embroidered Winter, wiping his hands on his sleeves. Xu Zhihu, who had resumed her seat in the pavilion, smiled knowingly, some of her earlier gloom lifting. She did not recognize Cao Changqing, though she had heard whispers of the legendary “Cao Guanzi” from half-knowledgeable wandering knights and aristocratic youths. Naturally, she did not realize that the refined scholar before her was the very same figure capable of rolling dragon-like sword qi with Li Chungang. But Xu Zhihu was perceptive enough to sense the danger. How could she afford to relax when someone dared to ignore the old sword saint and the entire Beiliang faction? Concerned for her younger brother’s safety, she glanced at Jiang Ni. A beauty who brings calamity—indeed, a fitting description. Her earlier pity for the fallen princess vanished the moment Cao Changqing appeared. Was she cold-hearted? Xu Zhihu, who was more than willing to tarnish her own reputation, never denied it.
With Cao Guanzi silent, Xu Fengnian silent, and Jiang Ni silent, the atmosphere in and around the pavilion grew heavy.
It was Xu Zhihu who finally broke the silence, smiling and asking, “Jiang Ni, shall we go have some tea together?”
Jiang Ni nodded softly. Cao Changqing frowned slightly but refrained from speaking. He seemed determined to maintain his respectful demeanor before Jiang Ni, adhering strictly to protocol, never daring to overstep. The group returned to the tea room, where the female Daoist Xu Huipu was already inside. After some polite greetings, she prepared tea with practiced elegance, her movements graceful and refined—a true display of aristocratic poise. She could not help but notice the unfamiliar scholar kneeling beside her. Men of noble birth, especially those past the age of forty, often carried a certain aura—whether righteous or sinister, it was unmistakably different from common folk. This was known as “depth.” Xu Huipu couldn’t help glancing at him repeatedly, sensing an unfathomable presence. Jiang Ni called him “Qi Zhao Uncle” and handed him a cup of tea. Cao Changqing silently accepted it with a bow, thankfully refraining from using the title “Princess.”
Xu Zhihu, feigning innocence, asked, “Jiang Ni, why do you call him Qi Zhao Uncle?”
Jiang Ni replied softly, “Qi Zhao Uncle is a great Go master, and I often watch him play.”
Cao Changqing shook his head with a sigh. “This guilty servant does not deserve the title of national master.”
He added, “But one day, I will cut off Huang Longshi’s head and offer it at the late emperor’s tomb.”
Xu Huipu was genuinely startled. Huang Longshi—wasn’t he a semi-immortal figure, the one who had sparked the unjust wars of the Spring and Autumn Periods? That game of Go had no precedent and no successor. To claim the head of the Three Yellow Scholars? And the late emperor? Xu Huipu’s heart raced, though her expression remained calm as she quickly tried to figure out the true identity of this middle-aged scholar.
Xu Fengnian did not want Xu Huipu to follow this line of questioning, especially not after the unexpected appearance of Chen Liangxi. That had already raised his suspicions. It was true that the Jiangnan region favored philosophical discussions, but those old foxes were all seasoned schemers. Who knew whether this newly famous talent was a hidden piece in a larger game? Recruiting Chen Liangxi would contradict the very purpose of his journey. The Beiliang Prince had just come of age, and Xu Xiao had barely secured the hereditary title in the capital. Could it be that the Young Prince was already eager to gather followers and build influence? What were his true intentions? Xu Fengnian shifted the topic with a smile. “Sister Xu, where did Chen Liangxi go?”
Xu Huipu hesitated slightly before replying gently, “He is in the meditation hall, discussing the principles of kingship and hegemony, righteousness and profit with Master Honggu and others. They haven’t finished their debate yet and must determine who prevails.”
Xu Fengnian drank his tea like wine, showing no appreciation for its subtleties. He shamelessly asked Xu Zhihu for another cup of wild tea and said with a grin, “Chen Liangxi’s eloquence is impressive, but I couldn’t quite follow it. Fortunately, the likes of Yuan Honggu recognized his talent, or else it would have been wasted.”
Xu Huipu furrowed her delicate brows slightly, the faintest lines visible at the corners of her eyes. Though she was no longer young, her refined demeanor still held a unique charm. She patiently said, as if offhandedly, “Your Highness, though Chen Liangxi may be eloquent, he truly possesses the ability to govern and save the world. He must not be dismissed as a mere scholar of abstract philosophy.”
Xu Fengnian replied absentmindedly, “Is that so? Then I’ll have my elder sister speak to the Lu family later. If Lu Xuanlang does not value talent, I’ll have Master Tangxi promote him.”
He had touched on a sore subject. Mentioning Tangxi Sword Immortal Lu Baijie immediately darkened Xu Huipu’s expression, and she fell silent.
Xu Zhihu’s lips curled upward slightly.
Cao Changqing said calmly, “This young man is an extreme example of external kingship, using a blend of royal and hegemonic methods as a cover. If he ever establishes his own school of thought, his philosophy will be even more harmful than Yao Baifeng’s. Yao’s teachings deviated slightly from orthodox Confucianism, but even if his school became the national philosophy and spread widely, scholars would still remain scholars, and Confucians would still remain Confucians—like a minor illness in the body that, in the long run, might even be beneficial. But if this young man’s philosophy spreads, it will be a deep wound within Confucianism itself, a hidden root of disaster. Once it festers, correcting it will not be a matter of minor surgery. Internal sages and external kings—without internal sainthood, how can one claim external kingship? Fundamentally, his philosophy is no different from Huang Longshi’s. If this young man remains obscure, it will be fine. But if he shows signs of founding a new school, I will personally kill him.”
Xu Huipu turned pale.
The old sword saint sneered, “You scholars are the most ruthless, especially when it comes to killing other scholars. The habit of mutual disdain among literati is even more incurable than jealousy among women. I find it utterly tiresome. Cao Changqing, I’ll say this now—if you ever go after that young man, let me know. I’ll have a match with you.”
Cao Changqing remained indifferent and made no comment.
Xu Huipu etched the name Cao Changqing into her memory.
Like Xu Zhihu, she did not know that Cao Changqing was the infamous Cao Guanzi who had once assassinated an emperor. Otherwise, how could she dare to share a room with him? If word reached the capital, it would be a calamity beyond reckoning. This thorn had pierced the hearts of two emperors for twenty years. Before his death, the late emperor had solemnly declared, “I will not close my eyes in peace unless the The Azure-robed Grand Official is slain.” For this reason, a group of elite imperial guards had been secretly deployed in the jianghu, all possessing supreme martial skills, supported by a considerable number of elite soldiers. They had spent years gathering intelligence, determined to eliminate Cao Guanzi. It was said that the current emperor had not recalled these assassins after ascending the throne. They were directly commanded by the “Cat-Man” Han Diaosi, known as the most sinister eunuch in the world, capable of using finger techniques to kill even celestial beings. With his white eyebrows and pale face, Han Diaosi was described as having the appearance of a youthful immortal—or, more disturbingly, a demon. How many horrifying bloodbaths had taken place in the palace, all orchestrated by this very “Cat-Man”? People whispered that he had a taste for human hearts and livers, slicing them up as drinking snacks. Whether true or not, the mere thought sent chills down one’s spine.
When the tea grew cold, the group left the Baoguo Temple and returned home.
Cao Changqing stood at the door, watching Jiang Ni board the carriage.
Before climbing into his own carriage, Xu Fengnian asked, “Master Cao, are you planning to reveal her identity to the entire world? If I refuse to let her go, will you follow me, making everyone aware that I have Cao Guanzi by my side?”
Cao Changqing smiled. “Prince Xu, you are a clever man. A tiger father has no dog son.”
Xu Fengnian remained silent.
Cao Changqing did not look at the prince but gazed at the carriage where Jiang Ni sat, smiling. “Are you still weighing the pros and cons, Your Highness? In terms of decisiveness, you fall short of Xu Xiao. Even your emperor could not kill me. How can you?”
Cao Changqing sensed Xu Fengnian’s qi and shook his head. “At least not yet. Unfortunately, I have already found the princess.”
With those words, could it be said that even Cao Guanzi did not underestimate the Young Prince’s potential?
Was Xu Fengnian worthy of such attention?
Cao Changqing extended his hand, making a back-and-forth motion, revealing the secret. “If Your Highness is willing to go with the flow, I can kill Chen Zhibao for you. Xu Xiao is hard to kill, and you find it difficult. But I am different.”
Xu Fengnian wore a bitter smile.
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