The young child named You Song, who had touched the hilt of a blade, lived in a martial world of a child’s imagination, naively believing that any martial world would be wonderful, certainly tastier than a string of candied hawthorns. The young martial world of a teenager, like Wang Dashi from the Fish and Dragon Sect, who had long been bullied by the Yu Long Gang, was filled with a lofty, unattainable woman in his heart, secretly yearning for her. When danger struck, he wouldn’t think twice, feeling it was enough just to die beside her. But the martial world of adults, like that of the old man in a sheepskin coat who acted on whims, could summon over a thousand swords simply by standing atop a mountain and shouting, “Sword, come forth!”—such rare feats were few and far between. Some were pitiful, like Qing Biao Han Xiang Ma, who died a stifled death at the border of the Sword Province, barely entering the martial world before perishing. Others fared slightly better, such as the Dongyue swordsman Lü Qiantang, who achieved fame and success, yet still met the fate of dying in the martial world.
Han Tao left several soldiers from Daoma Pass to help the Fish and Dragon Sect clean up the aftermath, since more than ten people were either dead or injured, no small matter. How to wrap things up neatly and skillfully tested Han Tao’s ability as a commander and official. At present, though undercurrents stirred both court and countryside, the surface still showed peace and prosperity. Advancement through battlefield merit was rare and precious, while petty schemes and petty gains were far more common.
The Fish and Dragon Sect had suffered a major loss, but having narrowly escaped death, they felt more relief than sorrow. The second leader, Xiao Qiang, handed thirty taels of silver to the soldiers. It wasn’t that the sect couldn’t afford more, but these soldiers were clearly the close attendants of the Heir Apparent of Chui Gong, mere lowly clerks who couldn’t decisively settle matters. If their appetites grew too large, it would be difficult to bribe them again later when dealing directly with Han Tao. Only someone seasoned like Xiao Qiang could accurately judge such delicate balances. Liu Niroong did not expose Xiao Qiang’s scheming on the upper floor, clearly showing that after nearly facing annihilation, she had matured significantly.
Xu Fengnian placed the corpse of the slain martial rogue back into a chair. After finishing this grim task, he saw Liu Niroong standing at the door, her face like frost. Calmly, Xu said, “Zhao Yingchuan gave this man not only a sedative, but poison as well. He’s dead.”
Liu Niroong glanced at the blood oozing from the corpse’s seven orifices, a familiar crimson. She sneered, “Master Xu, do you expect me to believe that? Do you take me for a child of three?”
Xu Fengnian knew she resented his inaction, so he smiled and said, “I killed Zhao Yingchuan. Will you report me to the authorities? If I’m arrested and executed, how will the Fish and Dragon Sect explain this to the Fourth-Rank Martial Officer back in Linzhou?”
Liu Niroong stared at this shamelessly calm man, as if each additional glance would sully her eyes. She turned coldly and said, “Regardless of your reasons for killing Zhao Yingchuan, you did help the Fish and Dragon Sect. I’m not so ungrateful as to demand thousands of taels to cover this up. Even if it costs that much, I, Liu Niroong, won’t flinch.”
Xu Fengnian stood beside the chair, “Thank you, Miss Liu.”
As Liu Niroong stepped across the threshold, she paused slightly and said slowly, “In my eyes, you’re even worse than Xiao Qiang.”
Xu Fengnian merely smiled, offering no rebuttal. Returning to the room where Zhao Yingchuan had shattered the door, he found Wang Dashi sitting on the edge of the bed, trembling. The boy had not yet recovered from the carnage in the courtyard. For a youth newly entering the martial world, the night’s blood-soaked scenes had been overwhelming. Especially the one-sided slaughter by imperial soldiers, which would leave an indelible mark on his young heart, never to fade.
Wang Dashi looked up at Xu Fengnian and Forced a faint smile, calling him “Master Xu.” Xu nodded and sat back down by the window, pulling out an unassuming manual of sword techniques from his robe. The manual verified over twenty techniques that combined various styles, including Fu Jia Die Lei. It did not merely describe or explain the forms, but exuded the unique lion-hunting-rabbit majesty of Wang Xianzhi, the Second Under Heaven. As Xu read, he murmured, “That bag of pastries you gave me, I’ll repay you later.”
Overwhelmed, Wang Dashi waved his hands, saying, “No need, no need. Master Xu, you’re too kind.”
Xu Fengnian caught the boy’s nervousness from the corner of his eye and thought of how he had wildly swung his sword in the courtyard. He smiled and asked, “Your sect leader, Master Liu, is skilled in both internal and external cultivation, especially in Pao Chui Chang Quan, emphasizing reason and breath, blending softness and hardness. How is it that your steps are so unsteady? Did no one teach you the basics?”
Wang Dashi feared that Xu might misunderstand the sect’s atmosphere, so he hurriedly replied, “They did teach me, but I’m just too dull to grasp it. My senior brothers are very capable.”
Xu Fengnian didn’t press further. In sects and schools, martial arts were usually passed down orally by masters, otherwise small mistakes could lead to great errors. Hence the saying, “Once a teacher, forever a father.” Wang Dashi, a soft target for everyone, had no one willing to invest time in him. The old adage that the poor study literature while the rich study martial arts had persisted for centuries. To truly excel in martial arts required both opportunity and wealth. Paying tuition to a master was expensive, and the amount depended on the master’s skill. Even after Apprenticeship, it wasn’t the end. Students had to support their masters, give gifts on holidays, and anticipate their needs. Moreover, injuries from sparring required medicine and recovery, an endless expense. Why did people fight to enter famous sects? Besides having masters, these sects offered cheap or free medical care and many training partners. As long as one had potential, there were no worries. Unfortunately, Wang Dashi, an orphan without parents, had only the meager copper coins given monthly by the sect, which his seniors constantly took. How could he expect masters burdened with their own families to even glance at him?
Xu Fengnian smiled, “I can’t just eat your pastries for free. I have a set of the most basic martial arts techniques from Wudang, worth little and with no risk of being passed on. If you want to learn, I’ll teach you the 800-character manual tonight. Remember as much as you can.”
Wang Dashi was stunned, fell to his knees with a thud, and sobbed, “Please teach me, Master!”
Xu Fengnian offered no comfort, letting Wang Dashi kneel. He began slowly reciting the manual, modifying it slightly, simplifying the complex, and removing many obscure Taoist terms. This approach, if seen by Taoist masters, would surely provoke curses of “prodigal son” or “picking sesame and losing watermelons.” This set of techniques came from Hong Xixiang, the Taoist leader of Wudang, whose teacher was none other than the mysterious Lu, the earthly immortal. After much speculation about whether Lu had ascended or died, people learned of this set of techniques and rushed to Wudang like madmen.
Originally, following the leader’s wishes, Wudang did not hide or delete the essence of the techniques. Anyone who wanted to learn could come to Wudang. However, the martial world was perilous, and human hearts were unpredictable. This brought many troubles to the peaceful Wudang Mountain. Some ruthless martial artists watched the Taoists practice on Dalianhua Peak, then captured Taoists who knew the techniques and tortured them for more details, later discarding their bodies in the wild. Unsatisfied or suspecting Wudang’s tolerance, some even killed several Taoists before descending the mountain. This made Wudang deeply distressed and finally decided to close its mountains, allowing only pilgrims to burn incense, while refusing all martial visitors to its seventy-two peaks. Thus, this set of techniques became the hottest and most tempting treasure in the martial world.
Therefore, Wang Dashi’s kneeling all night was not unfair. However, Xu Fengnian spoke the techniques back and forth seven or eight times, but Wang Dashi remembered only about half. It seemed the Fish and Dragon Sect’s evaluation of the boy’s dullness was not exaggerated. Later, Wang Dashi lowered his head more and more, fearing that Master Xu would dislike his stupidity. But the master never showed any impatience, speaking in a calm and gentle tone, which made the boy feel even more guilty. Finally, when he made a mistake in a phrase, the boy burst into tears, raised his red eyes, and said he wouldn’t learn anymore.
Xu Fengnian was not a statue without anger. He himself had a photographic memory, and his sword skills, though slow, had half the talent of the old sword god Li Chungan, who entered the first rank before twenty and broke through the other three ranks in five or six years. How could Xu Fengnian’s roots be bad? The people around the prince had already been screened, and few were stupid. Saying that he wasn’t a bit disappointed with Wang Dashi’s mediocrity would be self-deception. But what truly angered the prince was the boy’s words, “I won’t learn anymore.”
Xu Fengnian took a deep breath, calmed his face, and stopped repeating the techniques. He smiled gently, “So you’re giving up? Then you’ll spend your life watching Liu Niroong’s back.”
The boy, with a thin skin, had his heart exposed and turned red like a monkey’s butt on Wudang Mountain. Anyway, the atmosphere suddenly became relaxed.
Xu Fengnian helped Wang Dashi, whose legs had gone numb, stand up and sit back on the bed, even supporting him a bit. Seeing the boy carefully placing only half his butt on the bed, Xu smiled softly, “I once knew a man from a poor family. He couldn’t read or write and did only farm work like chopping firewood and feeding pigs as a child. Later, he inherited his father’s forge and became a blacksmith. His only advantage was his strength, slightly greater than others’. He spent twenty years forging iron, even saving money to marry a wife. Wang Dashi, what do you think such a man could achieve?”
Wang Dashi was puzzled, not knowing what Master Xu meant. In his eyes, Xu was not only handsome but also of noble temperament, the kind of person everyone envied in the martial world. Such a person’s words must be full of Zen and mystery. The simple boy dared not respond.
Xu Fengnian smiled, “That man became a very powerful swordsman.”
The prince recalled some past embarrassments and couldn’t help smiling, “A very high-level swordsman.”
Wang Dashi saw Xu’s phoenix eyes and first genuine smile, which made him Foolish and dim-witted, thinking only that such a master was worthy of Miss Liu Niroong.
Xu Fengnian looked out the window at the pale morning sky, guessing the rooster would crow soon. He stood up and said, “This set of techniques is said to be from Wudang, but it focuses more on cultivating breath and spirit. It doesn’t explain how the internal energy flows in the body. You’ll have to explore it day by day, year by year.”
Hearing this, Wang Dashi couldn’t help kneeling again to express his gratitude.
Xu Fengnian stood up and joked, “Don’t mock the poor youth; a youth’s knees hold gold. Don’t kneel too much, or you’ll lose even copper coins.”
Wang Dashi stood up, blushing and scratching his head.
Xu Fengnian walked out alone, wanting to find some breakfast outside the inn. The front yard had been cleaned, but some hidden corners still showed traces of last night’s fierce battle. After leaving the courtyard, Xu stretched and spent eight copper coins to buy four big meat buns, chewing as he walked, his mouth full of oil. Such a meat bun would cost six copper coins in the Jiangnan region. Unconsciously, he reached the ruins of the old city’s base, where he saw the child You Song and several playmates fighting on the stage, of course, just children playing, shouting and yelling, with book bags sewn by their parents at their feet. Xu Fengnian walked onto the base, squatting at the edge to deal with the third meat bun. You Song, who had touched the spring thunder knife, stopped playing and ran over, his face smiling innocently, deliberately raising his voice, “Big brother, yesterday when I returned to the village, I told them I touched your knife, but they didn’t believe me. They said I was lying!”
Xu Fengnian reached out and patted the child’s head, kindly helping him “clear his name,” saying, “You Song didn’t lie.”
Four or five children gathered around Xu Fengnian, envying You Song from the bottom of their hearts. Xu Fengnian’s sharp eyes noticed that the little boy You Song kept glancing at a little girl standing far away. She was thin and small, her clothes patched even worse than You Song’s, and her hands were twisted behind her back. She wanted to join the fun but lacked the courage, only daring to lower her head and look at her worn-out straw shoes with exposed toes. Xu Fengnian, about to bite into the meat bun, smiled and stopped, rubbing his stomach helplessly, “I’ve eaten five or six already. These two are a waste. You Song, help your big brother eat one?”
You Song hesitated, but a greedy little fat boy nearby didn’t hesitate, shouting that he wanted to eat. Xu Fengnian gave the bun to the little fat boy, and You Song finally took the other one. Seeing his big brother wink, the child smiled knowingly, holding the bun with both hands and running to find his childhood friend. He said something, persuading the girl after much effort, and finally they split it and ate together. Xu Fengnian secretly gave a thumbs-up in that direction, and You Song grinned.
The little fat boy and others, having tasted the delicious two-copper-bun, knew they would be punished by their teacher if they didn’t go to school, so they grabbed their book bags and ran off. Xu Fengnian walked over to You Song and the little girl and saw that her hands were covered with frostbite, cracked and bleeding. With such small hands, if she had to wash clothes in the stream or work in the fields and mountains, how painful it must be?
Xu Fengnian said nothing, just squatting and listening to You Song talk about trivial village matters. He learned that two years ago, a scholar had emerged in the village, and the villagers, with their narrow views, thought it was a great honor. You Song’s village joined two other villages to fund a scholar, an old teacher determined to pursue an official career. The teacher was honest and strict, with a good reputation, so he continued teaching for several years. For the villagers, the idea of passing the imperial exams was distant and unimaginable. They just wanted their children to learn to read. You Song proudly laughed to the prince, saying the teacher said his handwriting was good and that he could help write Spring Festival couplets for the villagers in the future.
At this moment, the little girl also smiled, softly and timidly, her eyes shining like sweet mountain spring water.
Just then, more than ten riders galloped out from Daoma Pass, their armor gleaming, making You Song admire them greatly.
Behind the horse Team, several ruffians with a bad reputation near Daoma Pass ran with all their might. The riders had to slow down every so often to wait for those chasing on foot, each of them showing disdain.
The little girl, with a delicate heart, tugged at You Song’s sleeve, pointing in the direction of the village, filled with fear and worry.
You Song’s face turned pale. Carefully handing his book bag to the little girl, he didn’t care if the teacher would hit his hands later. After saying goodbye to the prince, he chased after them.
Xu Fengnian looked down and saw the little girl holding his sleeve, smiled, and nodded, “I’m going right away.”
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