Being in the company of the Crown Prince, one could not say that she was stained red by his proximity, but rather blackened by his ink. Xu Fengnian himself would begrudgingly agree to that.
Ever since their chance encounter at the border of Jianzhou, the timid Murong Wuzhu had now, despite faintly recognizing the terrifying identity of that fat mass, faced the situation fearlessly. It was hard to imagine that this young lady had once resigned herself to becoming a plaything in the bed of an old man atop Mount Hui. Although she was born into a noble family of Jianzhou, in her past life, a local governor had seemed to her an immensely powerful official. Yet in just a few days, she had climbed Mount Hui’s Guniu Ridge, visited the City of Martial Emperors, and it felt as though she had lived a lifetime. When Xu Fengnian decisively intervened to save a child from being trampled, Murong Wuzhu felt that among millions in this world, meeting him alone was enough. Yet, inexplicably, she became melancholic—she wasn’t as clever as her younger brother Tonghuang, not as beautiful as Pei Nanwei, nor as formidable as Qingniao. What could she possibly do for him?
As Murong Wuzhu felt this strange sadness, a woman of average appearance stumbled out of the crowd, desperately hugging her child. Yet instead of expressing gratitude to the Crown Prince for saving her son, she kowtowed to Zhao Biao, who was mounted on a blood-sweating horse far away. Sobbing, she claimed she didn’t know these people and that her child had disturbed the military affairs of the soldiers. She begged the Crown Prince to forgive her. Her forehead bruised from repeated kowtows, the onlookers exchanged glances and then understood—it was only natural. No one thought it odd that this young woman had forgotten the kindness shown to her. In the domain of Guangling, truth was dictated by the Prince himself. Law? Wasn’t it merely the family rules of the Zhao clan?
Some young scholars, secretly envious of Xu Fengnian’s charm, fanned themselves or whispered guesses about how tragically Xu would end up, feeling quite content. Murong Wuzhu had just escaped the fire, and though she had stumbled into the dye vat of Beiliang alongside the likes of Shu Xiu, her heart remained as pure as untouched white silk. Upon hearing the woman’s cruel words, Murong Wuzhu flushed with anger, ran forward, and slapped the woman across the face. Murong didn’t know how to scold properly. The woman, stunned, stopped crying, while Murong herself started to cry instead.
A hesitant scholar in a scholar’s cap, hiding behind the crowd, dared not step forward—it was likely the woman’s husband. Seeing this peerless beauty slap his wife, his face burned with shame, but he ultimately lacked the courage to come forth. Glancing cautiously at the Guangling Crown Prince Zhao Biao mounted on his horse and then at the handsome young man below, he could only hope these mighty figures, far beyond his station as a lowly commoner, would not turn their wrath upon his family of three. He bitterly regretted coming to witness the tide.
Xu Fengnian turned to Qingniao, who held a fox fur, and without a word, Qingniao, understanding his unspoken command, approached the trembling woman and coldly uttered one word: “Leave.” The woman, legs shaking, hastily rose, dragged her child into the crowd without looking back, and reunited with her husband, they pushed through the crowd and hurried home. From beginning to end, she never looked at the young nobleman, and what lay in her heart—shame or relief—only heaven knew.
Among the sons of privilege in Guangling, it was well known that whenever there was a grand gathering, Crown Prince Zhao Biao would always deploy many scouts specifically tasked with seeking out beautiful women. These hounds had an extremely keen nose, and generally ensured the Prince returned well-satisfied. After all, given Zhao Biao’s size, whether by carriage or horseback, each outing was a tremendous effort. Besides his relentless pursuit of women, Zhao Biao was also quite adept at making money. A special steward in his mansion was tasked with evaluating the beauty of women from surrounding families. If one wished to avoid being taken into the Guangling Prince’s Mansion and forced into the Prince’s bed, hefty sums of silver had to be paid. Even the eldest son of the Zhou governor, who had practically grown up side by side with the Crown Prince, could not escape this fate. Because his wife was particularly alluring, he had to pay seven or eight thousand taels in “tribute silver,” daring only to joke privately that the Crown Prince was fair in his dealings, showing no mercy to young or old alike.
It was thus evident how disgustingly Zhao Biao devoured women and silver alike. The Guangling King Zhao Yi, however, found this quite amusing, joking that his eldest son was like a young taotie—a gluttonous beast—for whom having a hearty appetite was a great blessing from heaven.
Seeing that the man before him made no move, Zhao Daishi’s already meager patience vanished entirely. He made a gesture and ceased paying attention to the youth before him, instead lifting his head and stretching his neck to stare at Murong Wuzhu. Scanning her, he thought, could it be a pair of twin beauties? Could there truly be such a pair of peerless lotuses, so alike in both looks and spirit? Heaven had been kind to me indeed! Narrowing his eyes further, he grew even more delighted—there were also two women wearing veils, though their faces were obscured, their figures alone were enough to stir the soul. And that elegant maid in green, her bearing was also quite remarkable. What a fortunate day, how could he have been so lucky? These girls of such rare beauty would surely keep him entertained for the next half year.
Zhao Biao drooled, smacking his lips: “Little beauties, come to my bowl. I adore beauties the most. I’ll savor you slowly, taste every bit.”
Xu Fengnian noticed the old man in gray dismounting, clearly intending to act. Finally, he spoke: “Zhao Biao, let’s make this clear beforehand—you can try to take my women if you want, but don’t end up with a few pounds of your own meat in my bowl instead.”
Zhao Biao, for once, gave the outsider a serious look. He was used to women being snatched away and their families wailing in despair, which he found boring. This made the Crown Prince often feel a lonely kind of melancholy reserved for unmatched Master. Within Guangling, who didn’t tremble with fear at the sight of his entourage? Occasionally, there were noble families with courage enough to resist, but their futile efforts were always crushed with bloodshed, followed by their useless talk of retribution. No one had ever stood before him without trembling lips and faltering words. He remembered a pair of martial heroes, a husband and wife, who had once traveled to Guangling and were praised throughout the martial world. At first, the Crown Prince hadn’t brought many attendants and suffered a minor defeat. Immediately returning home, he brought dozens of guests and 300 armored riders to corner the fleeing couple at the border. He first staged a lewd scene in front of the male hero, then peeled the husband’s skin in front of the female hero, and finally skewered them both with a long spear, kindly allowing them to die together as doomed lovers. To this day, the Crown Prince still remembered the woman’s sorrowful, seductive gaze and the man’s tearful hatred. Recalling this, Zhao Biao smacked his lips, feeling a thrill. It was far more satisfying than his usual indulgence with any nobleman’s daughter, leaving a lingering pleasure.
Thinking of this, Zhao Biao’s gaze burned even hotter for the women before him, already imagining new and untried ways to torment them. As he thought, he habitually inserted a finger into his mouth, mumbling: “Too bad I never got to meet Xu Gege. I heard his Wutong Courtyard has many exquisite beauties. Otherwise, I could have taken them all for some fun. Besides, Xu Gege has two sisters. I sincerely offer them to him, and I’m sure he’ll reciprocate generously, offering both sisters and the entire Wutong Courtyard in return. That would be truly fair.”
Zhao Biao muttered to himself: “But what if he refuses to be fair?”
With a sigh, the Crown Prince pulled his finger out, his face dripping with saliva, smiling widely while his eyes darkened with malice: “Beiliang is far away, and I don’t have the strength to travel so far to demand tribute. But if he ever comes to Guangling, I won’t allow Xu Gege to be stingy.”
Snapping back to the moment, he saw the gray-cloaked old man already advancing toward the young man. Zhao Biao twisted his neck, eagerly watching.
Zhao Biao only saw the young nobleman’s calm expression as he simply raised a hand toward him, prompting curiosity: “What are you doing?”
Xu Fengnian said nothing.
Murong Wuzhu happened to glance and saw Qingniao’s lips twitching into a faint smile.
The most unremarkable old man in sheepskin slowly stepped into view, grumbling: “What a fine Guangling River it was, sixty years ago it was still vast and wide. Now it’s so stifling I can’t even bear to watch. Xu kid, those thirty riders and that dog belong to me, and that dead pig is yours! Let me make this clear—I won’t waste my energy on you if I don’t carve a few pounds of meat off that dog.”
No sooner had the old man finished speaking than a shocking scene unfolded—thirty riders, both man and horse, were torn apart by invisible sword qi. As for the gray-clad guest who had the air of a Master, he hadn’t even had time to speak, let alone fight, before his head was sliced off as if by an unseen blade!
The old swordsman, showing no sign of exertion, continued: “A true Master is coming from Dayanji, and if you don’t want to be chased by thousands of riders, act now.”
Xu Fengnian smiled, then stretched out his arm and grabbed a sword from the hand of a fallen rider’s corpse.
Controlling qi to manipulate objects?
Chen Yu, who had been watching coldly, narrowed her eyes.
Finally realizing the danger, the Guangling Crown Prince, no longer foolish, turned his horse without a word and fled. As long as the green mountains remain, there will always be firewood to burn—and there would always be women.
Xu Fengnian strode forward, grabbing the horse’s tail and pulling the charging blood-sweating steed into a rearing position. Zhao Biao, who required three servants to mount his horse, had no riding skills at all and immediately fell backward onto the ground.
Xu Fengnian pressed the sword scabbard against the neck of this fellow noble prince, rendering him immobile. With one slash, he carved off about three taels of flesh from Zhao Biao’s arm, smiling: “See? Your meat has come into my bowl. I wasn’t lying, was I?”
Wailing like a ghost.
The second strike sliced off half a jin of flesh from Zhao Biao’s round, pillar-like thigh, still with that charming smile that could kill women: “Oh, by the way, I’m the Xu Gege you mentioned.”
The fat prince screamed in agony, thrashing violently. Xu Fengnian moved the scabbard to another spot, pinning it firmly to Zhao Biao’s forehead. The crowd watched as the prince’s limbs flailed, but his head remained still.
Xu Fengnian’s third strike sliced off a piece of flesh from Zhao Biao’s left cheek, then he smiled and asked: “Does it hurt?”
Judging from Zhao Biao’s pitiful, writhing state, the pain was unimaginable.
Xu Fengnian hummed, then sliced off another piece from the right cheek: “Seems like it does.”
Zhao Biao wet his pants, foamed at the mouth, and finally fainted from the pain.
The old swordsman smiled: “Xu kid, someone’s coming. Be careful. Whether to leave or stay—it’s your call.”
“Qingniao, go to the carriage and fetch the Xiudong and Chunlei.”
After saying this, Xu Fengnian turned to Li Chungan and asked with a smile: “Senior, dare you join me to go to Dayanji and watch the tide?”
Li Chungan was momentarily stunned, then burst into hearty laughter, exuding a heroic aura: “Back then, the Wu Clan’s nine swords defeated ten thousand riders. But me alone could rival all nine!”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage