The man won the kingdom and the beauty, yet no matter how mighty he might be, he often ends up yielding to the woman in the bed.
Xu Fengnian, who bore everything with patience and never complained, finally did not die on a woman’s lap—mainly because Hong Shu couldn’t bear to let him go. At the last moment, she laughed playfully, saying she was reeling him in with a long line, slowly biting into his heart. Xu Fengnian, however, was utterly exhausted, lying on the small couch panting like an ox, too weak to argue. Hong Shu herself wasn’t faring much better—her defiance was just bravado. After wearing that golden-yellow dragon robe, Xu Fengnian pressed his hands on her slender waist, inevitably wrinkling the garment. With her sweat soaking through it, the robe, which she had worn for the first time, would certainly need a thorough cleaning afterward. Such waste was truly a crime against beauty itself.
After the storm of passion had passed and the robe had become damp and clingy, Hong Shu tossed it onto a rack. She nestled into Xu Fengnian’s arms, gazing together at the full moon hanging in the sky like a great jade plate. In the past, when the maids of the Wutong Courtyard accompanied the young prince on Mid-Autumn nights, it was always the second-tier maids like Lüyi and Huanggua—those who openly quarreled for his attention—who would jostle for position. Those who won a drinking game would rush into his arms, while Hong Shu merely sat a little distance away, smiling gently. She served the young master with those beautiful eyes, who was loved for his charm and often became the topic of their gossip—chattering about how he flirted with other women outside. They would grow angry and resentful, puzzled as to why he would seek romance far away instead of turning to the beauties right beside him at home. Only Hong Shu cherished his cold detachment. She pressed her ear to his heart, smiling silently. Between her arms rested two plump white doves, full and firm, one slightly flattened by pressure, yet still round and smooth. The delicate pink bud upon it was like the final stroke of genius in a masterpiece, and now, under her touch, it had perked up just a little more. Her body was soft as jade clay as she gazed lovingly at her young master.
Xu Fengnian surrendered, saying, “Lady, have mercy.”
Hong Shu glanced mischievously at his waist and flicked it playfully, saying with a grin, “When I first saw you on Mount Liuyi, I wondered why you, who practiced the saber, carried a sword instead. Now I understand—your sword is good, and your swordsmanship even better.”
Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly, “Don’t be such a rogue.”
Hong Shu whispered softly, “Far away from thousands of miles, where no one knows us—it’s wonderful.”
Xu Fengnian sat up, and Hong Shu, familiar with his habits, quickly slipped on a silk robe before stepping down to fetch his undergarments. Returning to the couch, she knelt beside him, helping him dress. She placed the purple-gold crown on his head, then carefully dressed him in his purple-gold dragon robe. She held the silk ribbons of the crown between two fingers, standing before him with a smile in her eyes, and asked, “Master, are you really not going to be emperor?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “If I were to be emperor, especially a diligent ruler, aside from everything else, during our lovemaking, eunuchs would be outside taking notes. If it lasted too long, they would use their shrill voices to remind the emperor to take care of his health. That would be terribly dull. But if I were a decadent ruler who preferred beauty to the kingdom, and the nation fell, look at the previous owner of that dragon robe—his concubines, even his empress and princesses, became playthings for the fatty Guangling King. As for the emperor and empress of Xichu, they were lucky to meet Xu Xiao. If it had been Gu Jiantang or King Yan Chi instead, imagine how tragic the scene would have been.”
Hong Shu sighed softly.
Xu Fengnian asked quietly, “Master Li Yishan told me there are still remnants of those who once served the emperor, rotating loyalties, and that these people are both loyal and stubborn, destined to become the backbone in my struggle against Chen Zhibao. Do you count among them?”
Hong Shu raised her head to meet his gaze, her eyes clear and unwavering. She shook her head. “I’ve pledged to no faction. I only follow you, my master.”
Xu Fengnian said with self-mockery, “We’ve just made love, and now I’m bringing this up—it’s quite spoiling the mood, isn’t it? Almost like pulling out and denying responsibility.”
Hong Shu smiled enchantingly, shaking her head. “I like your coldness most of all—it’s like drinking a bowl of icy plum soup on a hot summer day, chilling to the bone, refreshing beyond words.”
Xu Fengnian stretched lazily. “You’re beyond cure. Want to go out for a walk? Will it cause any trouble?”
Hong Shu, already dressing in her usual attire, smiled and replied, “No problem. Auntie governs Dunhuang City with a style of seeming looseness but strict control, famous in both the Ju Zi Province and Jin Xi Province. Just like the curfew—if a night watchman spots someone, he reports to the patrols, who can kill the offender on the spot without question. Auntie said that when the curfew was first introduced, it didn’t work well, but she didn’t rush. Later, a demon close to the Jinguang level wandered into Dunhuang at night and broke the curfew. Auntie, instead of letting it slide, mobilized all five hundred riders stationed outside the Juxian Palace. That night, the streets ran red with blood, and the demon’s head was later displayed on the city wall. From then on, the curfew in Dunhuang became much easier to enforce.”
Xu Fengnian and Hong Shu walked out of Qingliu Hall—his purple robe embroidered with dragons, her attire elegant and dignified, a perfect match. A cool breeze blew as the two, with their peculiar identities, strolled leisurely under the moonlight. They reached the red walls separating the inner and outer courts, and Xu Fengnian placed a hand on the wall, suddenly asking, “Tell me how five hundred riders managed to kill a master.”
Hong Shu recalled thoughtfully and said slowly, “Generally speaking, famous demons in the Northern Liang prefer to travel alone and rarely provoke the imperial authorities, so there’s a mutual tolerance. With the relatively lenient laws in the Northern Liang, such direct confrontations are rare. The reason this demon fought to the death wasn’t because he was brave, but because Auntie personally oversaw the operation, accompanied by several martial experts, and refused to let him escape. Dunhuang City has a population of around eighty or ninety thousand, with the city guards known as the Jinwu Riders—light cavalry armed with short sabers and light crossbows, skilled in night battles and street fighting. Half of them are stationed outside the Juxian Palace, and the other half outside the city. About forty or fifty of them were originally outlaws who had committed crimes and had nowhere else to go, but Auntie treated them with respect, even rewarding some with older palace maids as wives. As for that street battle, it went like this: archers were stationed on the rooftops on both sides—more could have been placed, but the range limited their numbers to about a hundred. The remaining nine hundred riders were stationed at both ends of the street, three abreast, charging in waves. From both ends, twenty riders each, led by skilled lieutenants, charged forward. After they were all killed, the archers on the rooftops would unleash a barrage of arrows, not giving the demon a moment to breathe. When the next wave charged, the archers would rest. One key point was that besides the five hundred Jinwu Riders, there were over thirty elite warriors in golden armor, specially trained to deal with martial artists within the city. Since they weren’t suited for cavalry combat, Auntie secretly embedded them into the charging units, two or three at a time, waiting for the chance to strike from behind. Some were also hidden on the rooftops, allowed to retreat and perform as assassins. Thus, by the sixth charge, the demon was exhausted and trampled into a pulp by the horses.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “That’s similar to how our Northern Liang army once fought the Sword Emperor of Xishu, who guarded the nation’s borders with a single blade. We used cavalry and assassins in tandem, alternating between open and covert attacks. Plus, that royal uncle had already resolved to die, leading to that heart-wrenching scene that chilled the entire martial world. Last time at the Shenmen Thatched Hall, the problem was the lack of a top-tier martial expert on-site, and the coordination wasn’t smooth enough. The number of archers was too small to cause real damage, otherwise I would never have escaped so easily. I’m curious—how did Wu Jia’s Nine Swords two hundred years ago break through the Northern Liang’s ten thousand cavalry? Does Dunhuang have any secret records on this?”
Hong Shu smiled. “Auntie is a martial arts fanatic. Besides collecting weapons, she also has some obscure martial manuals and likes to critique martial artists across the land, writing her opinions on scrolls. I’m not really interested in those things, but I can help you find them later.”
Xu Fengnian joked, “Don’t worry, I won’t be leaving Dunhuang anytime soon. I want to see how a city operates, so there’s no need to hide anything from me.”
Hong Shu, clinging to his arm, her ample curves pressing against him, laughed, “How could I ever deceive my master?”
Xu Fengnian sighed, “This place really feels like an imperial palace. I wonder what the grandest palace in the world looks like. I should’ve asked Cao Zhangqing more questions when I met him the fourth time he entered the imperial city.”
Hong Shu laughed. “There are indeed palace maids and eunuchs here, though not many—only a few hundred, nothing compared to the grandeur of the Tai’an Palace. Tai’an had the ‘Cat of Men’ Han Diaosi, who fought Cao Zhangqing three times. He was a rare freak among eunuchs. Here in Juxian Palace, the eunuchs are all quite ordinary, but the palace maids are all of exceptional beauty. Auntie used to call herself sister with the secret princess of the Fourth Sect among the Five Great Sects—the Gongzhufen, the largest sect of martial demons in the Northern Liang, composed mostly of women skilled in bewitching men and practicing yin cultivation. The Dunhuang Feixian Dance of Juxian Palace originated from a secret technique of Gongzhufen. Would my master like to see it? It’s said that countless men have lost their minds upon seeing it, but none have remained as calm as a meditating monk. Thus, it’s also known as the ‘Longevity Dance’—meaning that whoever remains unmoved has already attained the Dao of immortality. Unfortunately, the Dunhuang Feixian Dance has only captured three or four parts of the essence of the Gongzhufen’s Longevity Dance.”
Xu Fengnian said straightforwardly, “Then I’d be a fool not to watch. Even if I can’t attain immortality, it’s still a feast for the eyes.”
Hong Shu smiled sweetly, her eyes brimming with neither sorrow nor coldness—this was her cleverness.
Xu Fengnian wrapped an arm around her waist, leapt onto a high wall, and soared across the rooftops, finally choosing a grand palace on the central axis of Dunhuang to lie down upon. Beside him was the curved eave of the roof. He released his grip and gazed up at the full moon above. Pointing upward, he whispered, “When I was little, I asked if there were immortals living on the moon. I asked everyone around me, and got different answers. My mother said yes—those who ascend can live in the heavens. Xu Xiao was not serious either, saying yes, and even claiming that rain was the immortals urinating, thunder was them farting, and hail was them defecating. That scared me so much that I dared not go out whenever it rained. My second sister and Master Li Yishan didn’t believe in ghosts and spirits, saying there were none. My eldest sister always argued with my second sister and insisted there were. Once during Mid-Autumn, she made a bet with my second sister, hugging me and saying that after she died, she would watch over me together with my mother on the moon. She even taunted my second sister, saying, ‘You don’t believe in ascension? Then when you die, you’ll never see your two brothers again.’ That nearly made my second sister hit her. Honestly, I never understood why my two sisters always fought. Back then, I was young and liked to stir things up, enjoying watching them glare and puff their cheeks. You know how proud my second sister is—she only let herself be annoyed by such trivial family matters. As for military, state, or world affairs, she treated them like chess calculations, indifferent and thus unbeatable in mental arithmetic. I remember every snowball fight—when I was on her team, it was so serious, as if we were waging war. We always won big, and she never got tired of it. Once, I secretly stuffed a snowball down her collar, and she chased me half across the mansion. Xu Xiao, without any sense of loyalty, just stood there laughing. After I was lightly punished by my sister, I chased Xu Xiao half across the mansion in revenge—it felt so good. Thinking back now, how many fathers like Xu Xiao must have existed in the world? Probably none anymore. With a useless son like me, not dying of anger was already a blessing. After coming of age, I never wanted to pursue imperial ambitions—I only wanted to do two things: cultivate martial arts to avenge my mother, and command troops to give Xu Xiao a peaceful and easy retirement.”
Hong Shu held Xu Fengnian’s slightly chilled hand, offering no words of comfort.
Xu Fengnian shook his head and smiled. “If ascension really exists, I’d like to believe it—I’d believe the Taoist cowherd.”
Hong Shu chuckled softly. “I heard Hong Xixiang is the reincarnation of Master Lü, so you, my master, must be the mightiest person in the world, having beaten Master Lü so many times.”
Xu Fengnian smiled faintly.
Hong Shu turned to her side, one hand supporting her cheek, while her other fingers gently traced over his eyelashes. “Master, your eyelashes are so long. I used to dream of touching them.”
Xu Fengnian didn’t stop her, saying, “Hong Shu, when I leave Dunhuang, come back with me to Northern Liang. Don’t be a secret agent anymore. Be my concubine instead. Xu Xiao will agree—he never asks anyone’s background. Even Lu Chengyan from the Qing Party can do it, so why not you?”
Hong Shu shook her head.
This might have been the first time in her life she ever refused him.
Xu Fengnian turned, frowning.
Hong Shu, seemingly gentle but fiercely determined, blinked her eyes. “If I become a puppet concubine, how can I keep killing people?”
Xu Fengnian glared. “You like killing people?”
She nodded without hesitation.
Xu Fengnian’s eyes widened.
Hong Shu hid in his arms, whispering, “Master, do you really want to be just a nominal Northern Liang prince?”
Xu Fengnian sighed. “I understand your feelings, but can’t I be unreasonable just once?”
Hong Shu curled in his arms like a kitten. “It’s me who’s being unreasonable. I should obey my master in everything.”
Xu Fengnian remained silent, then suddenly his eyes lit up. He narrowed those enviable eyes and patted Hong Shu’s round, plump bottom, giving the command, “Sit on me!”
After straddling him, Hong Shu looked shy and bewildered, whispering, “Master, here?”
Xu Fengnian growled, “What do you think?”
“Did you know,” she whispered, her voice husky as she undid her inner bindings, “Auntie says I look seven or eight out of ten like the Northern Liang Empress in her youth.”
She leaned in, her breath warm against his ear. “Master, there’s an imperial throne inside the palace. Tomorrow, I’ll wear the dragon robe and go there.”
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