Six corpses lay sprawled upon the jade courtyard, their lives ended by the ruthless strikes of Hu Jia’s palm techniques. At the center stood a sword-bearing scholar, blood flowing in rivulets around him. The archers, stunned by the carnage, hesitated to loose another volley of arrows.
The bearded master of the cottage roared in fury, “The disciples of the Shen clan shall strike first!”
In an instant, two encircling formations took shape. The inner circle consisted of over twenty members of the Shen clan, interspersed with loyal retainers trained at the cottage. The outer ring numbered over forty retainers of Changle Peak. As the battle intensified, another thirty warriors poured into the courtyard of white jade. The inner circle swiftly constricted, twenty blades and swords converging upon Xu Fengnian. His left foot slid outward an inch, and with both hands raised in the posture of severing rivers and shaking Kunlun, he exuded the aura of a grandmaster commanding the winds and clouds atop a mountain peak. His body twisted and turned, his qi surging like a mighty river flowing eastward.
The disciples of the Shen clan, trained in martial arts since childhood, possessed physical strength far superior to that of ordinary sects. With access to supreme secret manuals and guidance from masters, their attacks were precise and disciplined. Though their strikes were repelled by Xu Fengnian’s overwhelming qi, the inner circle quickly reformed. Only a few lost their weapons, while most remained unscathed. Those whose weapons were knocked away caught superior blades and swords thrown from the outer circle, their formation contracting and expanding with seamless coordination, displaying the profound foundation of the Shen clan’s martial arts.
In Xishu stood the largest dragon wall in the world, even surpassing the Nine Dragon Wall of the current Liyang imperial palace. Long ago, Li Chungan slashed through with three thousand sword qi, creating a spectacle known as the “Opening of Shu.”
Now, Xu Fengnian, facing two circles of over sixty martial artists, murmured two words: “Sword rise.”
He began with the Wudang sect’s Wang Chonglou’s “Canglan Finger” stance, and behind him, the Spring and Autumn Sword unsheathed itself. Its sword qi surpassed all others on Changle Peak. As Spring and Autumn flashed past, Xu Fengnian’s feet slammed into the jade floor, leaving two deep craters. The heavens and earth shimmered with flowing light, like a comet streaking through the sky. Compared to the rough “Swallow Return” technique he once used, this was an entirely different level, nearly reaching the sword mastery of the Wu family’s Sword Grave. Once, in the reed marshes, Zhao Liuding faced Li Chungan’s “Two Sleeves of Green Snakes” calmly, borrowing the famed sword Suwang from his attendant, using qi to guide the blade. Now, Xu Fengnian, with sheer force, replicated the chaotic rhythm of Hu Jia’s palm techniques, a masterstroke. The Spring and Autumn sword qi surged like a vast net across the dragon wall, enveloping not only the twenty in the inner circle but also the forty in the outer ring.
Blades slashed across throats, pierced chests, and skewered legs.
Swords clashed, and the flow of qi was endless.
The cane-wielding master of the cottage’s expression flickered, while beside him stood a newly arrived man in golden crown and purple robes. These two, father and son of the Shen clan, were among the three minor grandmasters of Changle Peak. Father and son both reached the second realm, a rare and celebrated feat in the Jianghu of Juzhou, a tale of a tiger father having no dog son. Master Shen Zhi placed great hopes upon his illegitimate son, Zhongli Handan, waiting for the day when Changle Peak would proudly boast three grandmasters from one family. This would help the cottage close the gap with the ten great sects. Among the younger generation of the Shen clan, many possessed extraordinary talent, and if they could nurture one to reach the first realm within thirty years, the Shen clan would earn the attention of the Northern Wei imperial court, gaining immense resources and support. In the Northern Wei’s martial world, the strong only grew stronger. The court not only allowed smaller sects to devour weaker ones, but actively aided the great sects in swallowing the small. Against the current, if one does not advance, one retreats. Six hundred miles away, the city of Dunhuang, ruled by its master who styled himself a sovereign king, bore the title “Second Emperor” and had long coveted the Shen clan’s martial arts. Had it not been for the deep ties between Changle Peak and the royal family, with several military garrisons standing between them to block Dunhuang’s encroachment, the cottage would have been devoured long ago. To lose one life in the cottage meant greater peril. How could Shen Zhi not be consumed with worry?
The purple-robed swordsman of the Shen clan narrowed his eyes darkly, “If this youth is not eliminated, how can the cottage maintain its dignity on Liuyi Mountain? Should I go and ask Grandfather to intervene?”
The bearded master shook his head, as if questioning himself, “Is the cost too great?”
The middle-aged man retorted, “Shall we let him slaughter everyone on this plaza?”
The bearded master narrowed his eyes, “No need to rush. Wait until his qi falters, then strike again.”
The next heir to the cottage, even more refined than Zhongli Handan, fumed, “If he still cannot be subdued, what then? We lose face and suffer losses. Dunhuang’s vultures will seize the opportunity, and the cottage shall be in grave danger. Without vigilance, we shall share the fate of the forty-odd sects within three hundred miles of Dunhuang.”
Shen Zhi frowned, “Do not try to provoke me. A father knows his son best. Do you think I do not see your schemes and secret dealings over the years? Do you think my eyes have grown dim with age? You resent me for not allying with Murong Baoding, for not paving your way in the military, so you secretly conspire with the envoy of the Chieftain. Do you still consider me your father?”
The mention of hidden wounds made Shen Kaihe’s face twist with fury, “My mother was strangled to death by Zhongli Handan with a white silk ribbon, yet you forbade me from avenging her. What kind of father are you?”
The elderly man gripped his iron cane, first with anger, then sorrow, his eyes dimming. Swallowing many bitter words, he sighed, “Now that Handan is dead, we should unite as father and son.” He gazed at the sword qi soaring into the heavens, feeling the weight of age pressing upon him. How could an ordinary swordsman achieve such mastery of sword qi in mere years? He murmured, “Murong Baoding may be a man of great ambition, but he harbors treasonous thoughts. Even if he prevails in court against the Empress of the same clan, can he defeat Toba Boshi, who holds the military power? Can he overcome the other seven Chieftains watching from the sidelines? If the Shen clan must survive, better to endure in disgrace than face annihilation in the future.”
Shen Kaihe’s face darkened, “The future is for the future. As for now, it is up to us.”
The aged master smiled bitterly and fell silent.
In the plaza, the Spring and Autumn sword had already shattered both circles, leaving over half dead or wounded.
When his qi ceased, Xu Fengnian sheathed his sword. Purple-robed Shen Kaihe leapt into the fray, engaging the elegant swordsman in a perilous duel. His movements were nimble, his purple sleeves flaring like petals in the wind. As the battle shifted, Shen Kaihe was struck in the chest, flying twenty paces backward toward Master Shen Zhi. The latter’s expression shifted slightly, and with a flick of his cane, he darted forward to steady his eldest son, pulling him behind him. Xu Fengnian had no intention of striking at the master, only of continuing his slaughter, but since the opportunity presented itself, he did not hesitate. The Spring and Autumn sword unsheathed once more. As the white-bearded master raised his iron cane, Xu Fengnian sensed the sudden collapse of his qi. Though he tried to rally, another unseen strike sent his energy cascading like a river in flood. The Spring and Autumn sword pierced effortlessly through his heart, tracing an exquisite arc in the air before returning to its sheath.
Xu Fengnian narrowed his eyes, surprised yet amused.
Shen Kaihe cried out in anguish, cradling his dying father gently, tears brimming in his eyes, though his gaze remained cold.
Master Shen Zhi, struck twice in the back from close range by sword qi, had his vital points pierced. Though not fatal in themselves, these points were crucial to the Shen clan’s unique internal technique, which relied on a layered buildup of energy. At the peak of this buildup, the technique was formidable, but it was precisely this moment that Shen Kaihe knew best. With two precise strikes, he shattered his father’s foundation. The Spring and Autumn sword pierced through effortlessly, sealing his fate.
Father and son gazed at each other, one lying, one kneeling.
Unexpectedly, the traitorous Shen Kaihe, who had just committed patricide, reached to wipe the blood from his father’s face, intending to silence him. But the old man merely smiled bitterly, shaking his head slightly before spitting blood and speaking weakly, “Kaihe, Zhongli Handan may have been arrogant, but he had no ambitions. You envied his martial talent and resented his ruthlessness, but did you know that your mother and Aunt Liu were killed by my own hand, not his? I did this for the future of the cottage, for a hundred years of stability. Handan has no hatred for you. Now that I am gone, he will focus on his cultivation. With the aid of Dunhuang, rumored to be ruled by the lover of Toba Boshi, you can join the military and rise swiftly. If Handan reaches the first realm, he can guard Changle Peak, and you can advance without worry. In the end, the cottage belongs to you, and your future is yours to shape…”
The dying Shen Zhi’s voice trailed off, while the younger Shen Kaihe bit his lip, his mouth trembling.
The aged father, grasping his son’s wrist, rasped, “Kaihe, do not meddle in Murong’s affairs. Compared to the great powers like Tianshui and Dunhuang, the Shen clan cannot afford palace intrigues. Remember this… there is an agent of Zhuwang hidden within the cottage. I cultivated ties with Dunhuang to cover your secret dealings with Murong Baoding. Be cautious…”
Shen Zhi’s final words: “Do not feel guilt, Kaihe. You are destined for greatness. Let me be one of the countless who fall for your rise. Bring honor to our clan, expand our lineage…”
Tears finally welled in Shen Kaihe’s eyes, but there was no regret in his gaze.
Xu Fengnian, having witnessed the entire spectacle, knew the battle was over. The purple-robed man’s cold, seemingly absurd act of patricide, revealing the truth despite knowing he could not kill Xu Fengnian in the short term, was clearly a gesture of allegiance. Even enemies could become secret allies. How ironic the world could be.
Xu Fengnian suddenly looked up.
A figure in brocade robes leapt gracefully from rooftop to rooftop, soaring like a wild goose from a curved eave, grasping something before vanishing in an instant.
Xu Fengnian turned his gaze back, asking, “What now?”
Seated on the ground, Shen Kaihe spat, “I shall avenge my father. Once he is buried, I shall come for you myself!”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “I am Song Rong of the Chess and Sword Bureau.”
With all eyes watching, he turned and strode away from the plaza.
Descending the mountain were only two stunned men, Han Fang and Zhang Xiu Cheng.
Three horses rode beneath the moonlight, passing beneath the grand archway built from golden nanmu wood.
Han Fang, his heart filled with fear, summoned his courage and asked, “Are you truly from the Chess and Sword Bureau?”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “That name is even more false than the one I gave you, Xu Lang. Just a banner I raised for convenience. Did you really believe it?”
Zhang Xiu Cheng chuckled knowingly.
Xu Fengnian glanced back at the lantern-lit mansion, whispering, “I know you are of the Han family. If you wish to escape the cottage’s vengeance, take a few trusted men and flee to Jizhou tonight.”
Han Fang asked bitterly, “Then who, truly, are you?”
Xu Fengnian replied carelessly, “You will know in time. But if you wish to do something for the Han family, to change the ‘Traitor’s Biography’ written by the historians of the Liyang dynasty into a ‘Loyalist’s Biography,’ go to Jizhou. Besides, you have no choice. If you want to live, you must flee south.”
Han Fang replied stiffly, “And if I refuse?”
Xu Fengnian sneered, “Then die.”
Han Fang’s face hardened, “The Han men have never feared death.”
Xu Fengnian laughed, “Of course you don’t. Years ago, in the governor’s mansion of Jizhou, hundreds of Han men were strung together like grasshoppers and beheaded in the marketplace. The executioner’s blade grew dull from cutting so many heads. I don’t know why you survived, nor do I care to ask. I only offer you a deal. Go to Jizhou, raise a thousand elite soldiers under the Han banner, hide wherever you like. Gold, silver, horses, weapons—I will provide them all. After that, we wait for fate to decide whether the Han family can clear its name. As for who I am…”
Zhang Xiu Cheng dug his heels into his horse and rode ahead, disappearing into the distance.
When the three horses rode side by side again, Zhang saw Han’s stunned expression, clearly shaken by an answer too terrifying to voice.
Xu Fengnian asked, “Besides you, Han Fang, are there any other Han heirs left?”
Han Fang shook his head, “None.”
Xu Fengnian sneered, “Good. Otherwise, I would have killed them myself.”
Han Fang’s fury simmered beneath the surface.
Zhang Xiu Cheng’s eyes gleamed.
After the fall of Zhongyi Stronghold, he had remained loyal to Han Fang not out of hope for a future, but because he had given up all dreams of ambition. He saw Han as a friend, not a master. Zhang knew Han lacked the cunning to command men, his rewards and punishments unclear, his mercy misplaced. Han was no ruler destined to carve out an empire. Zhang did not mind being a dog, as long as his master possessed the cunning and strength to lead.
Xu Fengnian tucked his hands into his sleeves, recalling past warmth, a smile tugging at his lips. How tender the memories were. To meet you again in Juzhou—how unexpected.
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