After changing boats, Xuan Yuan Qingfeng did not return to Gu Niu Ridge, but followed the Longwang River into Qinglong Stream, heading toward Longhu Mountain in search of that guest scholar. The flower-picking rogue didn’t mind becoming a stray dog at all—without mansions and gates to guard, he was finally free and unrestrained. Thus, when Xuan Yuan Qingfeng found him, the fellow was actually making the best of a hard situation: he had caught a wild pheasant, and was roasting it over a fire opposite a young child. Long Yuxuan, having watched with his own eyes as the grand vessel carrying the Beiliang heir, Prince Xu, did not turn back, had grown somewhat lax. He had not expected Xuan Yuan Qingfeng to mobilize such a force to pursue him into the mountains. When encircled, Long Yuxuan displayed neither heroic spirit nor groveling submission. Instead, he simply requested that Hui Mountain spare the child who seemed to have sprung from a stone. Xuan Yuan Qingfeng did not beat around the bush, and conveyed Prince Xu’s intentions in broad strokes. Long Yuxuan remained deeply suspicious, fearing this was a ploy to lure him into a trap. Seeing his hesitation, Xuan Yuan Qingfeng grew slightly displeased, and without another word, turned and left.
Actually, upon seeing the strength Xuan Yuan Qingfeng had brought, Long Yuxuan had already believed her words halfway. But what truly convinced him to chase after the grand vessel on the She River was a child’s innocent remark: “Father, can we catch all the pretty ladies on the boat to be my mother?” Even if Long Yuxuan had the courage of ten tigers, he dared not compete with the Prince for women—not even daring to look twice for a better view. Since he now had a convenient excuse to back down, how could he not seize the opportunity to go along with the current?
He caught up to Xuan Yuan Qingfeng. Generously, she disembarked at the Longwang River ferry and lent him the boat. When Long Yuxuan bid her farewell, it was the first time he truly admired her. He promised that if he ever truly rose to prominence in Beiliang, he would never forget the favor Xuan Yuan Qingfeng had shown him.
He caught up to the Prince’s vessel on the She River. After changing boats, Long Yuxuan remained as cautious as ever, but the Prince did not bother with formalities or pleasantries, instead having his attendants arrange accommodations for the father and son. This unexpected courtesy reassured Long Yuxuan immensely. For the rest of the journey, he did not step out of his cabin, behaving himself with utmost care, fearing that the Prince might mistake him for harboring lecherous thoughts again—then he would die a most unjust death. Having risen from being a lowly guest scholar at Hui Mountain to a guest of honor in the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion, it was like a carp leaping over the Dragon Gate. If he were to be slain like a dragon the moment he became one, it would be a tragedy of the bitterest kind.
As for that little rascal, he was bold as a newborn calf, displaying an old soul beyond his years. The moment he felt bored, he would stride out of the cabin with his hands clasped behind his back, either leaning on the railing gazing at the river, or standing alone at the bow, striking poses that seemed to carry the weight of the world.
That alone would have been tolerable. But one day, upon seeing several of the Prince’s female companions, he approached the androgynous pair of siblings, tilted his head upward, sighed softly, and looked disappointed. Then he walked up to a particularly beautiful young widow, again lifting his gaze to fix on one particular area, nodding slightly. Finally, he reached the sister holding a white cat, and upon seeing the rolling hills of her bosom, his eyes lit up. He declared solemnly, “Grand! Splendid! Truly magnificent!”
The women could not help but laugh, even the normally aloof Princess Jing’an, Pei Nanwei, found herself amused. Murong Wu Zhu giggled behind her hand, not minding in the least the boy’s blunt commentary on her modest endowments. Yu Youwei blinked in surprise when the child suddenly said, “Sister, let me hold your white cat while you hold me instead!” And with that, he jumped up trying to take the cat, Wu Mei Niang, from her arms—only to be snatched up by the Prince himself, who grabbed him by the back of his collar and held him dangling in midair. With a grin, the Prince scolded, “You’ve got some nerve, trying to flirt with my women! If you weren’t Long Yuxuan’s own son, who’d believe it!” The boy kicked and flailed in midair, suspended between heaven and earth. Yu Youwei shot the Prince a glare, her beauty naturally enchanting.
Over the next two days on the river, the rigid hierarchy that had formed around Prince Xu began to soften under the boy’s antics. Like a paperer mending a drafty window, he patched things up, bringing a warmth that had been missing. The child had no name, and Long Yuxuan flatly refused to acknowledge him as his son. Yu Youwei, in a rare moment of playfulness, noticed he had somehow acquired two crickets, and often saw him crouched on the deck watching them battle furiously. She gave him the nickname “Little Bug.” On the entire ship, only the hermit old man in lambskin robes, who remained in seclusion, and the Prince himself, who had little patience for the little lecher, seemed to dislike him. Even the two pets—Wu Mei Niang the white cat, and Hu Kui the tiger cub—were fond of the boy. Especially Wu Mei Niang, who often sneaked out of the cabin to find him, then leapt onto his face with a pounce. A common sight was the boy watching his crickets fight, with a white cat and a tiger cub sitting quietly beside him as spectators. Every time the Prince stumbled upon this scene, he would give the boy a kick in the behind just hard enough to send him sprawling, just to vent his irritation. After all, who else but this shameless little rascal would knock on every woman’s cabin door each night with a different excuse?
“Sister Murong, it’s getting cold. Would you like Little Bug to warm your bed for you? Dad says a young man’s butt is hot enough to cook pancakes. Once I’ve warmed the bed, you can lie in it, okay?”
“Auntie Pei, the night is long and sleepless. With the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, shall we admire the moon together?”
“Sister Yu, your bosom must be heavy. Are you tired? Let Little Bug give you a massage to ease your weariness.”
“Sister Qingniao, I know you love wearing green. Today, Little Bug specially wore a green robe. Don’t we look like betrothed cousins?”
When his attempts at being a rogue failed, the little devil quickly switched tactics:
“Sister Murong, we both are strangers far from home. Shouldn’t we comfort each other?”
“Auntie Pei, I heard you’re good at Go. Little Bug has stolen a board and some stones. During the day, I learned a bit of the ‘Great Avalanche’ opening from Dad, and secretly invented my own ‘Inside Turn’ variation. How about a match under the lanterns until dawn?”
“Sister Yu, I found your lazy cat Wu Mei Niang. Open the door, please!”
“Sister Qingniao, I want to learn spear techniques from you!”
These few days were sheer torment for Long Yuxuan. How could he bring himself to beat a little brat who hadn’t even outgrown his split-crotch pants? Yet no matter whether he feigned anger or tried gentle persuasion, the boy—his so-called son—just rolled his eyes. Even if he tried to strike, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Although Long Yuxuan was a flower-picking rogue, he wasn’t a cruel man. Otherwise, back on the raft, he wouldn’t have resisted the temptation of that poisoned fish bait. On the whole, though they bore the title of father and son, the boy carried himself more like the father. Eventually, seeing that the atmosphere on the ship was not tense, and that the boy, though mischievous, was quite popular among the ladies, Long Yuxuan simply gave up and let the boy do as he pleased.
The ship was now on the She River, and the outline of a small riverside town could already be seen. This was the border of Jianzhou. Continuing north, it would take about ten days to reach the legendary Wudi City by the Eastern Sea. Old swordsman Li Chungan finally emerged from his cabin and stood at the bow. Xu Fengnian, whose cultivation was far inferior, could not perceive the old man’s true power. Long Yuxuan was finally summoned by the Prince, officially recognized as a guest aboard the ship. During their conversation, Xu learned that this rogue, who had once been a guest scholar at Hui Mountain, was actually a descendant of the Mohist school. Though the Mohists had long since declined along with the other hundred schools of thought, before the Spring and Autumn Period, when Confucianism had not yet become supreme, and Buddhism had not yet entered from the West, the Mohists—who revered spirits and deities—had once stood equal to the Daoists. Unfortunately, unlike Buddhism and Daoism, which adapted and compromised, the Mohists clashed head-on with the rising tide of Confucianism, their core doctrines incompatible. Eventually, they were defeated and faded into obscurity. Yet the leaders of the Mohists, known as the Juzi, were still revered as divine figures, shrouded in mystery. Long Yuxuan had studied under the previous Juzi and was one of the thirty-six direct disciples. As for why he had been expelled from the sect, Long Yuxuan was vague, and Xu Fengnian had no interest in prying further. Every family has its own secrets and shame.
In the martial world, as in the scholarly one, men often hold grudges. A beating may be forgiven, but a slap to the face is a mortal wound.
As the ship approached the shore, even the fearless Xu Fengnian, upon seeing a swordswoman ashore, instinctively shrank his neck and ducked into the cabin, too afraid to disembark.
Those aboard who had only recently joined the Prince from outside Beiliang thought disaster must be upon them. Otherwise, how could the Prince, with all his arrogance and resources, act so timidly?
Long Yuxuan cautiously observed the woman stepping onto the ship. Though shocked and fearful, he was also curious. This young woman looked plain, not at all like a fearsome figure. Who in the world could be a martial artist so fearsome that even the new master feared her?
Instinctively, Long Yuxuan wondered whether the Prince had done something despicable—perhaps abandoning a lover—and now she had come seeking revenge?
But the Prince was surrounded by beauties of unmatched grace. Even if his taste were poor, how could he have chosen someone like her for a secret affair?
As Long Yuxuan pondered this mystery, the swordswoman stepped aboard and coldly laughed, “Xu Fengnian! So, you dare to go to Wudi City, but not dare to face me?”
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