Jiang Ni strode forward, hands clasped behind her back, riding her sword through the air, while Cao Guanzi, his green robes billowing and sleeves wide, floated effortlessly through the sky. Both appeared as celestial beings. Although Cao Guanzi knew that speaking now might spoil the mood, he could not help but fulfill his duty as a minister. Some words must be spoken, whether or not they would be heeded: “That boy Tuoba Chunsun relies solely on cunning tactics to suppress and manipulate the hearts of men. Strategically, he ranks no higher than the lower tier. However, being the son of Tuoba Bosat, he will likely follow the traditional path into the military, where his family’s influence can elevate his status. Thus, he could be rated as above average. Yet, should he transition from the military into court politics, he would still prove unworthy of great responsibility—nowhere near the caliber of Dong Zhuo, a man of common birth but with the charm and adaptability to thrive in any situation. Princess, on this journey to the Southern Capital of the Northern Desert to meet with former ministers of Xichu, it will suffice for you to make a single appearance. All other trivial matters may be left entirely in the hands of your ministers. Back then, nearly a third of the great clans within the empire fled northward. Their decision was not merely out of fear for their lives; many endured humiliation and hardship for a single reason: to await Your Highness.”
Jiang Ni, gliding one zhang above the ground atop her sword, softly hummed in agreement. This caused Cao Guanzi to pause in surprise. Previously, whenever he spoke to the princess about restoring the dynasty, she had always appeared indifferent, barely concealing her disinterest. He could not fathom why she had changed. In the forest of Honglu Cave, the second site of Xichu’s royal qi, nearly sixty individuals had entered the mountains and settled there in thatched huts. After Cao Guanzi’s careful selection, this gathering of talents had become a miniature imperial court. These former pillars of Xichu included master statesmen who pretended to have renounced the world, literary giants who had secretly governed the Southern Mountain Temple for twenty years, and a group of powerful generals who had chosen poverty and obscurity over surrender. Many had even feigned death to escape notice. Upon meeting the princess, each of these loyal ministers had knelt and wept bitterly. Yet the princess seemed unmoved, causing many aged retainers to worry endlessly. Still, none doubted the princess’s destiny. On the day of the Xilei Wall battle, when Ye Baikui fell in battle and the imperial city fell into chaos, all nine of the emperor’s chief ministers—including Cao Guanzi and the old grand chancellor Sun Xiji—witnessed the emperor press the national jade seal, the most revered symbol of sovereignty among the Nine Spring and Autumn Kingdoms, against the princess’s back. The seal’s radiant aura vanished, leaving it dull and lifeless, as though all its power had transferred into the young girl.
It was a twilight of a collapsing empire, a stormy dusk when the nine ministers knelt together in the golden hall. Even now, Cao Guanzi could still recall the searing sound of the hot jade seal burning against the princess’s tender back, and the pitiful cries of the young princess.
Jiang Ni’s eyes burned with determination as she said, “Uncle Qidai, I know why you attained the Saint’s realm, why you brought me from Xilei Wall to the imperial tombs. You wanted to pass on your cultivation and the remaining national fortune of Xichu to me. There’s no need to hide it anymore—I will accept it all.”
Cao Guanzi’s gaze softened as he gently replied, “Princess, you need not concern yourself with the ministers’ thoughts. Your presence among us is already the greatest blessing. You owe us nothing more. The schemes and efforts of Cao Guanzi and the remaining loyalists—Princess, you may freely devote your heart to that small vegetable garden of yours. If Xu Fengnian was willing to return you to Xichu, then if Cao Guanzi cannot even grant you peace, such a restoration is not worth pursuing.”
Jiang Ni slowed her sword slightly and murmured, “If he isn’t afraid of death, why should I fear pain? From now on, I won’t count copper coins anymore.”
The once brilliant Qidai, now a scholar nearing fifty, nodded with a slight, teasing smile. “Very well. Even if the princess secretly counts them, Cao Guanzi will pretend not to see.”
Jiang Ni beamed, her dimples showing, clenched her fists, and said, “Uncle Qidai, tell me about the four stages of the First-Rank martial cultivators. I never really listened before.”
Cao Guanzi smiled sincerely. “The First Rank has four stages: the Diamond, the Finger-Toward-Mystery, the Heaven-Like, and the Land Immortal. Each builds upon the last. The Diamond stage draws from the Buddhist concept of an indestructible golden body. The Finger-Toward-Mystery comes from Daoist mysticism, essentially a metaphor for seeking immortality by tapping into the Dao. The Heaven-Like stage is the Confucian pursuit of righteous qi. As the sages say, when things are unbalanced, they cry out. When the world is unjust, it is the duty of scholars to cultivate themselves, manage their families, govern the state, and bring peace to the world—whether through words, deeds, or virtue, all must be done with righteous intent. However, most scholars merely study for fame and fortune, serving only the emperor himself, rather than striving for the welfare of the people. As for the Land Immortal stage, one can project their spirit beyond the body and roam freely through heaven and earth, truly unshackled. Though the first three stages bear names derived from the three great philosophies, they often have little to do with actual practitioners of those schools. Instead, they are pursued by martial cultivators who seek power through their own strength, rising through the ranks to become figures of renown in the martial world. Buddhist monks who attain the Diamond stage often exhibit golden blood. Only two or three monks have achieved such a state in recent times. Daoist immortals enter the Finger-Toward-Mystery stage upon reaching the First Rank, though since Hong Xixiang’s reincarnation, Wudang Mountain has produced no one of that caliber. Longhushan, the Daoist holy site, fares slightly better, but even so, few attain this stage. As for Confucian scholars, there are even fewer who reach the First Rank.”
Jiang Ni pondered for a moment and said, “So, excluding the three philosophies, can it be understood that a martial cultivator must first build an unbreakable body, then seek internal energy, and finally transform that energy into a force that can manipulate the world’s fortune? If so, then the Heaven-Like cultivators sound like thieves?”
Cao Guanzi laughed heartily and nodded. “Princess, you’ve hit the nail on the head. ‘He who steals a hook is punished; he who steals a kingdom becomes a prince.’ That is precisely the meaning.”
Only then did Jiang Ni recall that her “Uncle Qidai” was the unrivaled Heaven-Like expert, and she blushed slightly in embarrassment. Cao Guanzi, still floating beside her, narrowed his eyes and said, “I once calculated through the game of Go that the maximum number of Land Immortals that can coexist in the world is seven or eight. That is the limit of the game’s fate.”
Jiang Ni softly asked, “Will he become one of them?”
Cao Guanzi shook his head with a sigh. “Unlikely.”
Jiang Ni tilted her head. “What about me?”
Cao Guanzi replied firmly, “You are certain to take one of those seats.”
Jiang Ni suddenly realized something and, after a moment’s delay, exclaimed in anger, “He always said I was slow-witted and untalented!”
Cao Guanzi, in high spirits, no longer bound by rigid etiquette, joked, “Then run him through with your sword.”
Jiang Ni instinctively poked her own cheek with a finger, then rubbed her face with both hands, muttering to herself incoherently.
Suddenly, the tip of her sword, Daliang Longque, shot upward, and she soared into the heavens.
One person, one sword, above the sea of clouds.
Cao Guanzi looked up, but she had already vanished from sight, murmuring, “A magnificent sight indeed.”
Within the former lands of Xichu, a towering column of qi, unlike the shattered fortunes of the other Spring and Autumn states, suddenly gathered across a thousand li.
In the imperial city of Taian, within the Bureau of Astronomy, an old man observing the heavens abruptly changed expression, rushing back to the library in a flustered manner.
※※※
Xu Fengnian stood still for a long time, lost in thought, before finally snapping back to reality. He patted the relatively intact face mask adhered to his skin. This one was crafted to resemble Xu Qi, a minor noble from the Southern Court, and was the most crucial of all his disguises. Human plans, however, could never fully account for fate. He had incurred the wrath of Tuoba Chunsun, and once he returned home and the Tuoba clan began investigating Xu Qi, even Cao Guanzi’s hastily arranged cover might not withstand prolonged scrutiny. Still, for the time being, he remained relatively safe. Carefully, he switched to another face mask, glanced down at his bloodstained and tattered clothes, sighed heavily, and turned back south, retracing his steps while simultaneously restoring his energy through breathing exercises.
He recalled the thunder spear of Duan Bo Huihui. The first strike had come from behind, so he hadn’t seen the details. The next two, aimed at himself and Cao Guanzi, had been face-to-face. Xu Fengnian mimicked the footwork a few steps, repeating it dozens of times without grasping the essence. He eventually gave up, reasoning that it was a secret technique of a great martial cultivator. Its depth lay not in physical form but in the intricacies of qi and meridians. If it were so easily deciphered, it wouldn’t be worth much.
He pulled out the seventh page of the saber manual from his robe, moistened it slightly with saliva, and recalled how Cao Guanzi had used the heavens’ qi to bind Tuoba Chunsun. That had been a breathtaking sight, and it aligned with the technique described on this page—“Binding Green Threads.” After entering the Diamond stage, one could faintly perceive the outlines of movement. At that moment, Xu Fengnian had nearly popped his eyes out trying to observe. To the untrained eye, it was spectacle; to the expert, it was structure and principle. After all, the essence of martial cultivation lay in drawing boundaries, in understanding the rules. No wonder Wang Xianzhi had shamelessly spied on masters in combat, then used their techniques to refine his own. Xu Fengnian held the torn page and muttered to himself, hardly resembling someone who had moments ago been locked in mortal combat. This was thanks to the strong heart forged during his years of wandering. Lao Huang had said that being able to sleep and wake again was a blessing. Wen Hua had said that being able to eat and defecate was also a blessing. Xu Fengnian found both perspectives reasonable.
As for his brief reunion and swift parting with her, Xu Fengnian felt no great sorrow or longing.
He had no luxury for sentimental feelings. Besides, Jiang Ni was no longer the little girl who only knew how to smash clay figurines or bite people. She could now ride a sword. He had no reason not to strive for greater cultivation. The next time they met, that stubborn girl would surely try to run him through with her blade.
Xu Fengnian suddenly lifted his head, spotting a figure brimming with killing intent.
An old monk stood beside a shabby horse, hands clasped in prayer.
Xu Fengnian smiled slightly, deliberately dissipating his killing intent.
The old monk, already a living Buddha, raised his head and said, “If the Young Master wishes to vent his pent-up murderous intent, this old monk will not resist.”
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “The Holy Monk already possesses an indestructible Diamond body. Whether you resist or not makes no difference. Because of a single act of kindness, I nearly died on the grasslands. My entire body still aches. I won’t waste my energy.”
The old monk remained calm. “The Young Master need not worry about the safety of the nomadic tribe. This old monk will remain.”
Xu Fengnian asked, “Master Abbot, are you here to judge what kind of Northern Liang King I will become? If I fall short of your expectations, will you let me die in the Northern Desert? Correction: regardless of whether I meet your expectations, I was seemingly destined to die in Tuoba Chunsun’s pursuit.”
The old monk shook his head. “A person with great fortune has altered fate unknowingly, aligning with the saying that the game of Go has no fixed pattern. This was not my intention.”
Xu Fengnian nearly blurted out, “Spare me your nonsense,” but managed to hold it in. He took a deep breath and forced a smile devoid of sincerity. “Master Abbot, what brings you here this time? Is there another act of kindness awaiting me?”
The old monk chuckled silently and shook his head. “The Young Master misunderstands. I came only to present a Liangchan Pill as compensation for my earlier miscalculation.”
Xu Fengnian showed no hesitation or doubt, smiling as he asked, “Let’s forget the past—it only strains our friendship. Master Abbot, besides giving me three or four of those so-called ‘living relics’ in pill form, do you also have any Buddhist martial arts manuals?”
The old monk’s hand, which had been reaching into his robe, slowly withdrew. He smiled. “Only one pill. No manuals. Besides, judging by your complexion, you seem fine. Perhaps the Liangchan Pill is unnecessary. I won’t press it upon you.”
Xu Fengnian’s face stiffened. He trotted up to the Buddha and grinned, “Don’t be like that, Master Abbot. Come on, let’s see it.”
The old monk feigned reluctance, reached into his sleeve, and said apologetically, “Hmm? Odd. It seems I’ve lost it.”
Xu Fengnian’s face darkened. He gritted his teeth. “Master Abbot, can’t you at least pretend to act like a true cultivator?”
The old monk burst into laughter and walked away, leading his horse.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage