The heir prince happened to overhear the old scholar’s murmuring to himself, but chose to ignore it. Among the countless citizens of the Eight Kingdoms of the Spring and Autumn Period, who among the displaced wasn’t a homeless cur? As he passed by the old scholar from Jixia, who had just made a self-deprecating remark about being an old dog, the prince caught a glimpse of the old man’s clearly agitated expression from the corner of his eye. Seeing that the prince had no intention of stopping, the old scholar quickly turned his body sideways, assuming a solemn posture as if gazing at the river, appearing deeply concerned for the state and its people. He continued, “Before the Zhenyuan era of our dynasty, the struggles within the imperial court were battles between the founding ministers—those civil and military officials who had helped the late emperor establish the empire, each representing the factions behind them, scheming and competing for profit. Among them, the remnants of the Eight Kingdoms managed to seize a seat. Starting from the Yonghui era, Chancellor Zhang Julu gradually seized power. After more than a decade of the big fish swallowing the small fish and the small fish devouring the shrimps, the talents of the Eight Kingdoms, whether willingly or unwillingly, gradually overcame their divisions and integrated into the imperial court. The boundaries between civil and military officials blurred, and the struggle transformed into a contest between two scholarly factions from the north and south. The southern faction was relatively weaker but was supported by the Princes of Yanche and Guangling. Particularly between the first and fourth years of Yonghui, under the leadership of Minister of Personnel Zhao Youling, a man of humble origins, southern scholars like Wang Xionggui, Yuan Guo, and Han Lin were successively promoted to key positions, complementing the Jiangnan scholarly group and gaining significant momentum. They spared no effort in vying for one thing—reputation! Yet this struggle for fame and profit between the civil, military, and regional factions was only surface-level, ultimately unable to escape the emperor’s balancing act. Looking back over these twenty years, the figures in court have each had their moments of glory, but only General Xu of the isolated Beiliang remained above it all. His precious quality lay in staying away from courtly conflicts—by not competing, he achieved the greatest form of competition. Truly formidable! In every dynasty, wise rulers inevitably feared powerful ministers controlling the state. Unlike those strategists and tacticians, I, Liu Wenbao, view the rise and fall of dynasties not by focusing on the wisdom or folly of emperors, but by taking a different path—through the prime ministers. A virtuous chancellor can revive a nation, while a corrupt one brings ruin. I secretly believe that within five years, our nation’s foremost man, Chancellor Zhang Julu, will…”
Just as Liu Wenbao reached the most impassioned and crucial part of his lengthy discourse, he intended to pause for effect, to whet the listener’s appetite before delivering a stunning revelation. But as he slightly turned his head, he was met with the sight of the prince having already vanished, leaving him as stunned as if a bucket of cold water had been dumped over him. His impromptu yet carefully orchestrated self-promotion had been in vain.
With a sigh, the homeless cur Liu Wenbao felt a wave of despair. Born into a declining gentry family of the old Southern Tang, as Xu Weixiong had once said, he was the kind of impoverished scholar who could barely travel beyond his own commandery. In his youth, he had always remembered his mother telling him how, before he was born, she had dreamed of a leopard biting her hand. Thus he was named Wenbao. From a young age, he had aspired to attain the rank of marquis or chancellor. Yet, in the years before the fall of Southern Tang, only those of noble birth were valued. Liu Wenbao, full of youthful arrogance, went to the Shangyin Academy to study, determined to make a name for himself. Little did he know how difficult it would be to enter the academy. His travel funds ran out, and the journey home—long and treacherous—was impossible amidst the chaos of war. How could a poor scholar return home? And with what face? He vowed never to return unless he had made his fortune. But now, more than fifty years had passed, and wealth and honor remained distant dreams. Fellow students at the academy, whose talents had dazzled, were nearly young enough to be his grandsons. Liu’s youthful ambitions had long since flowed away with the river before him, vanishing into the eastern sea with time, never to return. Today, he had hoped for a chance at fortune by meeting the heir of Beiliang. But alas, the prince had no interest in listening to this old scholar’s ramblings. After all, with the prince’s noble lineage, how many people over the years must have tried to sell him their wisdom by the pound? What was Liu Wenbao, an unknown, to him?
The river breeze was not particularly cold, but Liu Wenbao reached up and rubbed the wrinkled skin of his face like a withered tree, murmuring in a daze, “Perhaps it’s time to return home. Even if I must beg along the way, I shall die in my homeland. Let the fallen leaves return to their roots.”
Xu Weixiong watched as Xu Fengnian continued walking without pause, and only when they reached the bow of the boat did she softly laugh and ask, “Aren’t you even a little curious whether this old scholar truly has some invaluable strategies hidden in his mind?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled, “Didn’t the old man say he missed home? If I were to take him to Beiliang, when would he ever return?”
Xu Weixiong sighed, “Liu Wenbao’s hometown has long since changed beyond recognition. His family has all but perished, and his parents, wife, and children died in war and disease. Even if he returned, who would remember an old man who left home thirty years ago?”
Xu Fengnian frowned and asked, “Does this old man truly have talent?”
Xu Weixiong replied calmly, “The scholars at the academy believe Liu Wenbao’s studies are broad but shallow, and they do not hold him in high regard.”
Xu Fengnian asked directly, “I don’t care what others think. Sister, what do you think of him? If you think he’s useful, I can let him come to Beiliang to make a living. At the very least, I could find him a comfortable minor post. It’s better than enduring humiliation at Shangyin Academy. He’s not young anymore, and from his eagerness just now, it’s clear he’s learned to be flexible. I don’t think he’s too concerned about face anymore.”
Xu Weixiong smiled, “Actually, I don’t think much of Liu Wenbao either.”
Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes, “So what was all that about? Let him stay at Shangyin Academy and cool his heels. I have neither the ambition to conquer the world nor the pretension to play the role of a noble prince seeking out wise men. An old scholar who couldn’t make it at Shangyin Academy after all these years won’t amount to much in Beiliang either. He’d just be wasting food. If he causes trouble, the soldiers might even chop his head off. Why bother?”
Xu Weixiong shook her head, “But what Liu Wenbao said a moment ago was somewhat interesting.”
Xu Fengnian scoffed, “Even I, a man of no learning, could tell it was just empty rhetoric. He kept name-dropping Zhang Julu and Zhao Youling, tossing around titles like chancellor, minister, emperor, and prime minister—so lofty they couldn’t go any higher. It was as boundless as this river. What’s the point of all that talk?”
Xu Weixiong, walking slightly behind, winked and said, “What was interesting was what Liu Wenbao hadn’t yet revealed. Unfortunately, you left too quickly. If you had stayed a little longer, he probably would have said that in recent years, the emperor has been cultivating a protégé capable of rivaling Zhang Julu in every way. In fact, as Liu guessed, this is already nearly certain. Do you know that the Menxiasheng recently appointed two new Jilu Lang officials, tasked with recording and monitoring the emperor’s every word and deed? These positions, situated close to the Son of Heaven, are even more prestigious than those of the Huangmen officials. These two rising stars, who will soon become the emperor’s most trusted aides, fit exactly the pattern Liu Wenbao described—the north-south rivalry. One comes from the Wei clan, the foremost aristocratic family of the north. The other hails from a humble family in the east, previously unknown, but it is said he studied under the revered Zhang family of the north. According to reliable sources, this thirty-year-old Jilu Lang has already gained the emperor’s deep trust and favor. If his career trajectory continues as expected, he may soon rise to great heights, just like Zhang Julu did. You must know that even many senior officials in court have failed to notice this secret development, yet Liu Wenbao, a scholar far removed from the imperial court, was able to predict it through historical insight. That’s no small feat. If you don’t believe me, you could call him back and ask.”
Xu Fengnian waved his hand, “No, no, no. Second Sister, you’ve always been a step ahead. I’ve never won a bet with you since I was a child.”
Xu Weixiong narrowed her eyes and smiled.
Xu Fengnian quickly corrected himself in a spineless tone, “Sister!”
To his surprise, Xu Weixiong softly said, “From now on, just call me Second Sister. I won’t quarrel over that anymore.”
Xu Fengnian dared not linger on the subject. He seized the moment to ask in a low voice, “Since the old man does have some ability, what should we do with him? Send him to Beiliang?”
Xu Weixiong thought for a moment and replied, “Not in a hurry. Wait until you return from Beimang before deciding. If he could be won over with just a few words and you personally went to recruit him, the ambition he has spent decades suppressing would rise again. With your impatient nature, you won’t have the patience to cultivate anyone.”
Xu Fengnian looked wronged and said, “Sister, that’s not fair.”
Xu Weixiong changed the subject and looked straight at him, saying, “I want someone from you.”
Xu Fengnian was slightly taken aback but replied, “Go ahead.”
Xu Weixiong’s smile was playful, “Yu Xuanji.”
Xu Fengnian furrowed his brows, “Although Yu Youwei’s father was a famous scholar from Shangyin Academy during the Spring and Autumn era, what do you need her for?”
Xu Weixiong, as always, was blunt, “You won’t give her to me?”
Xu Fengnian grinned, “How about I lend her to you? Just remember to return her.”
Xu Weixiong replied without hesitation, “Fine. I’m only borrowing her. Otherwise, why would I ask you for a woman? If she were merely the courtesan Yu Youwei, it would be a waste of her potential.”
Xu Fengnian was puzzled, “Now that her country and family have been destroyed, what could Yu Xuanji possibly do at Shangyin Academy?”
Xu Weixiong came straight to the point, “To lure out a thousand-year-old turtle or a ten-thousand-year-old tortoise, you need to put some thought into your bait.”
Xu Fengnian, full of curiosity, couldn’t help but ask, “Sister, tell me more.”
Xu Weixiong shook her head and smiled without answering.
Xu Fengnian immediately pulled out his trump card, tugging at her sleeve and acting like a spoiled child. Eventually, unable to resist his childishness, Xu Weixiong said a strange sentence, “I’ve always wanted to play a game of chess with an old master. It’s time to make my move.”
Xu Fengnian simply said, “Oh,” and didn’t press further. He knew that no matter how reluctant he felt, she would eventually leave. Helplessly, he said, “Sister, maybe I should go to Wudi City by the Eastern Sea first, then visit you at the academy.”
Xu Weixiong said flatly, “No.”
As Xu Fengnian was about to speak, she cut him off, “This is non-negotiable.”
Xu Fengnian let out a long sigh and gently said, “Then take this ship. Water travel is more comfortable and less jarring than overland. I don’t need it anymore.”
Xu Weixiong didn’t hesitate and nodded.
Xu Fengnian went to find Yu Youwei. From start to finish, from conversation to parting, the plump woman holding a white cat never spoke a word to the young prince. Xu Fengnian disembarked and mounted his fine white horse. Looking back, he saw her and the now much-heavier Wu Meiniang watching him from afar. Xu Fengnian sighed quietly. In her eyes, there was no trace of joy or sorrow. This parting would last at least several years. If it hadn’t been for his second sister Xu Weixiong’s request, Xu Fengnian would never have allowed her to remain at Shangyin Academy. It seemed her parents were buried there. When the young prince returned from his three-year journey to Beiliang, if he had arrived a few days later, she had said she would go to the academy to mourn her parents and never return to the martial world. Sitting on his horse, Xu Fengnian gently tugged at the reins, turned the horse’s head, and slowly rode along the road. He remembered when he was still a spoiled brat among nobles, chatting with Yu Youwei, who was not yet Yu Xuanji, discussing the meaning of words. She had said that the character for sorrow ( Melancholy) should be interpreted as autumn in the heart of a parting soul. Xu Fengnian looked up at the sky and muttered, “Truly a fine season for a belly full of foolish nostalgia and parting sorrow.”
On the shore, the little pest with no sense of shame shouted toward the big ship, “Sister Yu! Sister Yu! When I grow up, I’ll come marry you! It’s a promise!”
Long Yuxuan, who had unwittingly become the child’s father, twitched his lips and grabbed the boy by the collar, leaping onto a horse with him. Father and son rode together. If it weren’t for the boy’s mischievousness, it would have been a warm and harmonious scene.
Besides this father and son, the young prince, along with his two attendants Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng, rode on horseback. Princess Jing’an Pei, and the Murong siblings Nanwei and Nanmu, each rode in separate carriages. The old sword sage and Qingniao served as their drivers.
This small group rode northeast.
At first, the young prince not only seized every opportunity to learn martial arts from the old man in the sheepskin coat, Li Yuan, but also occasionally visited Princess Pei in the carriage for a game of go. But as they approached the famous solitary city by the coast, he began to ride alone and grew silent. The Murong siblings, who had never seen the boundless ocean before, had their excitement gradually drained away. Murong Tonghuang was fine, but Murong Wuzhu, being gentle and delicate, was not good at hiding her emotions. Since meeting the young prince, she had developed a deep affection for this elegant and dashing young man. Especially after the battle at the Snowy Terrace, when the prince personally helped lift the burden from their hearts, it was obvious to anyone that if the prince had jokingly asked her to marry him, she would probably have blushed and half-heartedly agreed. Along the journey, she often secretly lifted the carriage curtain to watch his back more than she looked at the sea. There are countless kinds of illnesses in the world, but the illness of the heart is incurable.
To his surprise, Murong Tonghuang made no reprimand at all, as if he accepted it naturally.
They arrived.
Looking up, the towering outer walls of Wudi City came into view.
The horse was intelligent and stopped on its own without needing Xu Fengnian to pull the reins.
The young prince of Beiliang did not look at the city walls but turned his gaze toward the sea to the east, lost in thought.
After a long time, Qingniao softly asked, “Master, aren’t we entering the city?”
Xu Fengnian softly replied, “Enter the city.”
He rode ahead.
Wudi City had always been an isolated city outside the empire, so the guards at its gates were largely symbolic. No travel permits were needed to enter unless one was a martial artist who had violated Wudi City’s laws and was thus barred. Regardless of whether one was a merchant, a commoner, or a nobleman, all were treated equally. One could ride into the city on horseback, or even hop or crawl in—it made no difference. Of course, since Wang Xianzhi became the city’s master, Wudi City had never gone so far as to hold a grand ceremony to welcome guests. Even when the emperor who unified the Spring and Autumn era entered the city, the “Second Under Heaven” had not come out of the inner city to greet him. Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng had never been to Wudi City before. Despite their experience in the martial world, as they passed through the shadowy gate tunnel, they still felt an immense weight in their hearts. Among countless cities in the world, for a hundred years and every twenty years a martial arts ranking, only this gate had seen nearly all the top ten martial artists enter and leave. Today’s undisputed master of martial arts, Deng Tai’a, who rides a donkey backward holding a peach blossom branch, has passed through. Cao Changqing, the green-robed official, has passed through. They were just like Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng beside them now—each had to pass through this gate, walk along the central road, and face the inner city’s battlements.
There lived in that place a monster surnamed Wang, who claimed himself the Second Under Heaven, standing tall and never falling.
A couple of years ago, a swordsman from Xishu known as Jian Jiu Huang once passed through, carrying his sword case on his back. It was his second visit. Unfortunately, as expected, he left behind six famous swords in vain, merely making it a total of two futile attempts. In the end, he couldn’t even take his life out of the city. He just sat there, dying upon the city wall.
Xu Fengnian dismounted and led his horse by the reins.
After walking a distance, he noticed a roadside wine stall. Hesitating for a moment, he sat down and asked the stall attendant, “Do you have wine?”
“Of course, of course! We sell wine, so how could we not have it? We have all the best wines from all over the world!”
The sharp-eyed stall owner, seeing the noble young man dressed in fine clothes and riding a fine horse, thought to himself that a big fat sheep had finally arrived. He sent the lazy waiter, who always refused to work hard despite taking copper coins, to the side and took over personally. He hurried forward with a self-praising speech and, with flattery on his face, said to the young noble, “Young master, we have Zhuyeqing, Liangzhou Laotse, Jiannanchun, Jinling Daqu—everything you could want. What would you like to drink?”
The noble smiled and asked, “Do you have yellow rice wine?”
The stall owner hesitated. They did have yellow rice wine, but it couldn’t fetch a high price. No matter how hard he tried to gouge the fat sheep, there wouldn’t be much profit. He was thinking of persuading the young man to choose a more expensive brand when the noble, glancing toward the inner city wall, said firmly, “Yellow rice wine will do.”
The wine stall owner’s eyes turned like a wheel. Smiling, he said, “From your accent, young master must be from Beiliang, right? Yellow rice wine is great! To be honest, our yellow rice wine is a century-old brand in this city. Though it’s twenty taels of silver per pot, it’s a bit expensive, but it’s worth every penny! Oh, by the way, young master, do you know about that famous duel on the city wall a few years back? Wow, I’m an honest man, I won’t say it was a once-in-a-century event, but a once-in-a-decade one, no exaggeration. Before the duel with the city lord, that old swordsman surnamed Huang drank quite a bit of our yellow rice wine right at this stall, praising how authentic our wine was, saying it was worth every penny of that twenty taels! This swordsman, oh, he was something else. Among the Ten Greatest Swordsmen under Heaven, he alone possessed six swords. Young master, you tell me, could such a swordsman be weak? That’s right! Alas, that swordsman didn’t drink enough yellow rice wine here. As the old saying goes, wine gives courage. Haha, if he had another pot, maybe he would’ve accidentally displayed the skills of a sword immortal…”
The young noble listened silently to the wine stall owner’s chatter without saying a word.
The young lady in green robes, who hadn’t dismounted from her horse, tightly pressed her lips together, hesitating as if she wanted to speak but finally decided against interrupting the young master.
The old man in a sheepskin coat was dozing with his eyes closed.
Finally, the young noble spoke, “Bring me a pot of wine and two bowls.”
The stall owner hesitated but obeyed. He was wondering why the young master needed two bowls when none of his many servants had sat down.
The wine pot cost less than one tael of silver, but the owner had the audacity to charge twenty taels. In a rare gesture, he wanted to personally pour the wine for this generous young master, secretly delighted at how easy it was to fool a wandering swordsman from afar.
The young noble, who had just been gouged, didn’t seem to mind the price at all. Calmly, he said, “I can pour it myself.”
The wine stall owner, unwilling to make a fool of himself, cheerfully said, “I clearly remember that old swordsman sat right at the seat to your right, at this very table!”
The young noble hummed in agreement.
He poured two bowls of yellow rice wine, placing one on the right side of the table, filling it to the brim. He picked up the one in front of him, took a sip, and then looked up with a smile, “That old man with the sword case on his back was missing two front teeth, right?”
The wine stall owner thought for a moment, nodded, and felt a bit uneasy. Could this young master from Beiliang actually know that swordsman surnamed Huang? If that were true, then this twenty taels of silver, which he had barely warmed in his hands, would suddenly become very hot indeed.
The young noble smiled and said slowly, “Also, that old man with the missing teeth definitely couldn’t afford to pay you twenty taels. At most, he could only pour out all his copper coins and buy half a bowl or so of yellow rice wine, drinking it sparingly, right?”
The wine stall owner, his lie exposed, was now thoroughly panicked, his face stiff. Though the common people of Wudi City naturally carried an indescribable sense of superiority, looking down on outsiders from the martial world with a sideways glance, this sense of superiority had its limits. In this world, wasn’t it necessary everywhere to gauge one’s own worth before treating others? The more common and petty the person, the sharper their mind for calculations. Without the eye for shifting winds and adapting accordingly, how could one make others willingly Reach into out their silver and copper coins?
Though the wine stall owner was just an old sparrow who loved to pontificate, having seen many so-called martial experts, he only did so with his tongue, for his words and praises were beyond anyone’s reach. But if he accidentally ran into a hard stone and lost the chance to earn money, it would ultimately be unpleasant.
Fortunately, the young noble didn’t dwell on his lie and continued drinking silently. This greatly relieved the wine stall owner, who no longer dared to boast and retreated behind the counter, cautiously guessing who this young man might be.
He stared at the young noble’s waist, where two short and long blades hung, marveling at their rarity and quality.
Could it be that this really was a noble scion from a famous family in Beiliang?
But he had never heard of any famous martial sects or martial families in Beiliang. Ever since the last generation’s spear immortal, Wang Xiu, had died, Beiliang hadn’t produced any notable martial experts. That impoverished place had nothing but its thirty thousand iron cavalry to be feared. Scholars and wandering swordsmen were said to be quite ordinary, with no one of particular distinction.
The curtains of both carriages had been lifted. Murong Tonghuang and Murong Wuzhu were staring at the silent young prince, finding him somewhat unfathomable.
The Princess of Jing’an, Pei Nanwei, had seen many faces of this young prince, but never the one she was seeing now. Silent, neither smiling nor sorrowful, he gave an inexplicable sense of unease, like a child who had made a mistake.
A child?
Pei Nanwei’s lips curled into a cold smile. What child could survive walking out of the reed marsh outside Xiangfan City? What child could turn the world upside down at Niugang? What child could make Zhao Danping of the Dragon and Tiger Mountains rush back from the capital to the Celestial Master’s Temple?
But why had he set out two bowls and was drinking this cheap yellow rice wine?
The pot wasn’t large, and fortunately, the bowls were small. In total, the pot could only fill five bowls. After drinking three, aside from the bowl on the table to his right, the young noble had only one bowl left.
He clinked the bowls together and drank it all in one go.
The young man, who seemed somewhat mysterious to the wine stall owner, narrowed his eyes, seemingly enjoying the drink immensely, slightly tipsy. He murmured, “Lao Huang, back then when we were chatting, I asked you what it meant to be a true martial master. What did you say?”
“Oh right, you said it was someone who could make the clouds of the nine heavens droop and the waters of the four seas rise. You said only such a person could be considered a true master. You even mentioned that old monster Wang in Wudi City. Calculating his age, he should have such abilities by now. But you knew the old monster was practically an immortal, so why did you come here to get beaten up? Didn’t you always say that when we travel the martial world, if we can’t win, we run, and if the wind is strong, we retreat?”
Unknowingly, the old man in the sheepskin coat had descended from the carriage and approached the wine stall. He sat down directly and scolded, “Xu Xiaozi, what are you blabbering about? If you don’t have the guts, just tuck your tail between your legs and scram. Don’t drag me into your embarrassment here!”
The wine stall owner was startled by the old man’s boldness, finding it strange that this crippled old coachman didn’t understand even the most basic respect.
Even stranger was the young noble, who didn’t seem angry at all. He simply said softly, “Then what?”
The old man in the sheepskin coat glanced at the city wall, where countless weapons of martial experts were embedded, and sneered, “Let me remind you kindly, no matter what you’re up to, I’ve promised Xu Shao that I’ll keep you alive.”
The young noble pointed his finger toward the wall, where a faintly visible dark purple box could be seen, and smiled, “I don’t want to do anything big. With my limited abilities, I can’t handle big things. I just want to take this bowl of wine and go up there for a look.”
Instinctively, the wine stall owner rolled his eyes. This outsider was truly an outsider, not knowing the rules at all, not knowing his place. Who could just go up to the city wall? For almost sixty years, how many people had tried to force their way up, only to be thrown down? He had been in business here for over a decade and had seen some so-called experts who didn’t know their own limits, trying to fly directly to the city wall. Without exception, they all met bad ends, falling like kites without wind, crashing to their deaths against the walls, dying the most final of deaths. How skilled were the sword god Deng Ta’ao and Cao Qingyi? What was their status in the martial world? Rumor had it that even they had to follow the rules and fight their way up the Wulou step by step when they challenged the city lord?
To the wine stall owner, who saw nothing but contempt in the old man with one arm, the old man laughed casually and said, “What’s so hard about that?”
At that, the young noble slowly rose, picked up the bowl of wine, turned to Qingniao, and said, “Wait here.”
Pei Nanwei widened her eyes in disbelief. Was this man mad? Even she, a woman outside the martial world, knew that the Second Under Heaven stood within the inner city.
On that day, on the bustling main road of Wudi City, all visitors and citizens witnessed a scene they would never forget. A graceful young noble, holding a bowl of wine, walked forward and loudly proclaimed, “Wang Xianzhi! May I ask, what is the meaning of the clouds of the nine heavens drooping, and what is the meaning of the waters of the four seas rising?”
This sentence, carried by powerful internal energy, echoed through half the city.
Immediately afterward, according to later estimates by curious onlookers, at least one thousand nine hundred swords simultaneously unsheathed and soared into the sky, all hovering in the air above.
This magnificent and wondrous phenomenon was all because of a single sentence from an old man who had wandered the martial world in solitude for far too long: “Wang Xianzhi! Li Chungan from the East Sea has come to visit! I borrow all the swords of this city to fight you!”
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