In the season of light snowfall, this year brought an unusual sight in the south: snowflakes as large as a child’s hand.
Beneath the heavy snowfall, even the Post Road (post roads) became treacherous. With one more solar term still to go before reaching the Shangyin Academy, two carriages traveled at a leisurely pace. The snowfall blocked their path, and they happened to approach a lakeside estate. They veered off the road for several miles to seek shelter. Given the relentless snowfall expected to last two or three days, it was clear that their stay would last longer than a single night. Turning from the official road into a private path carved out by the estate was particularly rugged. In truth, with the cultivation attainments of the vermilion-robed yin entity and Wang Xiaoping of Wudang, they could have melted several feet of snow along the way. However, such a display would have been too shocking to the common folk. Xu Fengnian had no desire to draw attention, so the group trudged through nearly five or six miles of snow, taking nearly an hour to reach their destination.
The estate bore a golden plaque, which Xu Fengnian immediately recognized as the calligraphy of Dong Fu, the author of the “Sacrificial Edict to the Deer,” ranked fourth among the greatest calligraphic works in the world. This was the Youyan Manor, a prominent estate that had produced father and son martial arts alliances. Its martial tradition ran deep, and it was one of the rare sects in the jianghu (martial world) that had once claimed dominance through the strength of a single family. Skilled in both internal and external cultivation, it excelled in breath cultivation and sword forging. The Longyan incense burner of Youyan had once been as renowned as the Tangxi Sword Forges, which had produced the famed swords Ba and Xiu. Though the Tangxi Forges had become ruins, the Longyan incense burner had not followed suit, though it had been closed for twenty or thirty years. In the past sixty years, the estate had not produced any figure of extraordinary talent, relying instead on the merits and influence of its ancestors to maintain its status. Yet, within the region, it remained the uncontested leader of the martial world, not to be underestimated. As Xu Fengnian stepped out of the carriage, he noted that the estate had cleared the snow in front of its gates. Despite the heavy snowfall, servants continuously swept the grounds at regular intervals, leaving only a thin layer of snow—a testament to its deep-rooted resources.
On such a bitterly cold day, the arrival of two carriages at the estate startled the gatekeeper, who hurried out from a side room where he had been warming himself by the fire. He feared offending the guests. The Youyan Manor had long enjoyed a fine reputation, treating its staff with meticulous care. Before the first snowfall, fur hats and thick coats had already been distributed, along with an extra pouch of silver to cover winter expenses. As a gatekeeper at the main entrance, Zhang Mu held a small leadership role and was a representative of the estate’s image. His fur hat was of especially fine quality, and he even wore a fox fur cloak—something even officials in ordinary districts might not possess. Having encountered countless figures from the martial world and government officials, Zhang Mu was not particularly surprised by the two carriages; they seemed to belong to a modestly wealthy family. However, the group of men and women that followed startled him. The young man at the front, with white hair, fur, and boots, carried a simple sword at his waist. His phoenix eyes were strikingly handsome, far surpassing even the estate’s young master in appearance.
Beside the white-haired youth stood a woman in purple robes. Her expression was unreadable, and her aura was eerily reminiscent of the old master of the estate from Zhang Mu’s childhood—a presence that inspired fear and caution. He dared not look twice. Behind the young couple came a strong young man, a quiet and unassuming man whose depth of cultivation was impossible to gauge, and an elderly scholar shivering from the cold.
Zhang Mu pondered silently. These were all unfamiliar faces—could they be troublesome visitors coming to borrow or view swords as the New Year approached? The Youyan Manor housed many swords, none of them ordinary. Many renowned swordsmen in the martial world liked to come here to admire them. The current estate master was a generous and hospitable man who made friends across the land. Viewing swords was fine, but when it came to borrowing, most swords were never returned, causing the estate’s collection to dwindle. From the ninety famous swords passed down by the old master, fewer than half remained. Only after several disputes with the estate master had the virtuous lady of the house managed to seal a few of the sharpest blades within the old sword forges. Otherwise, they would have been squandered by wandering swordsmen.
Xu Fengnian bowed slightly, with a hint of apology: “I was caught by the heavy snow and could not continue south. I’ve long admired the Youyan Manor’s reputation and humbly seek shelter here for a day or two. I hope you can forgive my intrusion.”
Zhang Mu, recognizing the accent of Tai’an City, felt relieved. The speaker did not seem to be someone seeking to claim a famous sword. The estate master loved to entertain guests, and Zhang Mu had picked up some of that generosity. As long as they were not the kind of self-serving sword collectors, he had no objection. The group’s bearing was impressive, and their manner was free of the arrogance often found among noble families. Zhang Mu warmed to them slightly. He hesitated, wondering whether to ask them to wait while he sent someone to report. But leaving guests outside in the snow seemed both impolite and imprudent—what if they were indeed noble offspring? That could bring unnecessary trouble to the Youyan Manor. Yet, if he took the initiative to bring them in and something went wrong, the blame would fall on him, a mere gatekeeper.
As Zhang Mu silently wrestled with his dilemma, the young man named Xu smiled and said, “Please inform the estate master of my visit. I’ll wait here quietly. If there are any difficulties, it’s quite all right. I’ve already seen Dong Fu’s calligraphy, and I came here happily. Even if I must leave without entering, I shall depart just as happily.”
Though Zhang Mu dared not judge the young man’s character, he appreciated the attention to detail and propriety. He felt a sense of ease and respectfully returned the bow, saying with a smile, “I’ll be bold enough to ask Master Xu to wait a moment while I go inform the estate master.”
Xu Fengnian raised a hand, signaling that they needn’t mind his group. He stood quietly in the snow, gazing up at the golden characters on the plaque—“Youyan Manor”—admiring their smooth, rich strokes and their embodiment of balance and harmony. About the time it takes to burn an incense stick, Zhang Mu came running out again. His steps were quick and light, clearly those of a trained martial artist, not the self-proclaimed heroes who made up techniques and called themselves grandmasters. Behind him followed an elderly steward in a black fox fur cloak. Upon seeing Xu Fengnian’s group, he bowed and called out, “Master Xu, please come in quickly. We’ve been remiss in our hospitality. I am Zhang Han. Allow me to lead the way. The estate has already prepared a fire and warmed several jugs of yellow wine.”
Xu Fengnian returned the bow with a smile: “I’ve already imposed on your kindness. I thank the Youyan Manor for its hospitality in advance.”
The steward hurriedly led the way, waving his hand with a smile: “Master Xu, please don’t be so courteous. If there are any shortcomings in our hospitality, please speak freely. Though the Youyan Manor is not a great noble house, we spare no effort in welcoming honored guests.”
Xu Fengnian nodded with a smile and followed Zhang Han through the side gate. The main gate remained closed, which was only natural—such grand entrances were not opened for just anyone. Even the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion (Northern Cool Mansion) rarely opened its ceremonial gates, and those who did receive such an honor were invariably among the most prominent figures in the Liyang Kingdom, whether openly or secretly. For a group of strangers whose names were unknown to the Youyan Manor, to be personally greeted by the chief steward was already a rare honor. As Xu Fengnian crossed the threshold, he smiled warmly, hiding a secret thought: Old Huang’s sword case contained six swords, one of which came from the Youyan Manor’s Longyan incense burner, named Chenxiang.
The procession passed through seemingly endless corridors and halls until they reached a lakeside courtyard offering a panoramic view of the snowy lake. The stone gate bore the inscription Chi Xue, perfectly suited to the scene. Even Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, who was born into privilege and held others in low esteem, could find no fault in it. Before entering, she glanced back at the Dragon Leap Lake, where snowflakes danced over the water. The Youyan Manor was nestled between mountains and water, with a ridge from Wuhu Mountain extending into the lake like a sleeping tiger. From a distance, a pavilion stood atop the mountain, offering a view of the lake.
In addition to the two young maids already assigned to the quiet courtyard, Zhang Han had brought several others who normally did not serve there. All were of above-average beauty. Perhaps he had guessed at the presence of “family members.” Altogether, five or six female servants from the estate were stationed inside and outside the courtyard. They were graceful and dignified, not the kind prone to flirtatious glances.
Zhang Han entered the courtyard but did not go into the house. Smiling, he said to Xu Fengnian, “Master Xu, the estate master is unavoidably detained and cannot come to greet you in person. Please forgive him.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head: “It is I who should pay my respects to the estate master. If he were to come here himself, I would truly feel ashamed. Master Zhang, please let me know when the estate master is available. I must personally visit to express my gratitude. I hadn’t expected the snow to block the road and delay my journey. My sudden request for shelter was quite impolite, and I feel deeply embarrassed.”
Zhang Han was greatly pleased, laughing heartily: “Guests are always welcome. Master Xu, you are too courteous, too courteous indeed.”
Truth be told, Zhang Han had grown quite irritated with the so-called martial heroes who, with loud voices and grand words, addressed the estate master as “brother” and boasted of their loyalty. Yet they were shrewd, even making Zhang Han himself feel inferior. They stayed in the estate for weeks or even months, eating and drinking without contributing. A slight oversight in hospitality might prompt them to complain bitterly to the estate master. Once, a famed swordsman from the southeast, already in his fifties, had even molested a female servant. As for the swordsmen and wandering heroes who came seeking fame, all were drawn by the estate’s collection of swords. They calculated their gains and losses with great precision. The estate master, being too kind-hearted to refuse, made Zhang Han’s job difficult. As a mere servant, he could not play the role of a stern enforcer. Over the years, the estate lady had endured much hardship in managing the household. Today, meeting a polite and refined guest like Xu Fengnian brought Zhang Han a sense of relief. If the Youyan Manor was to rise again, it would need sincere martial allies, and noble offspring with influential families would be a great boon.
Zhang Han departed quietly. The five female servants exchanged glances, unable to resist stealing a few more looks at the young man in the fox fur. He was truly handsome—not the delicate beauty of a court painter, but a manly grace. The three maids from outside the inner courtyard had initially grumbled—on such a cold day, who wanted to serve outsiders? But upon seeing Xu Fengnian, their faces lit up with joy. The young man Wu could not help but chuckle to himself. I told you my young master is always popular. He stole a glance at the woman in purple, who sensed his gaze and met it briefly. The exchange was hard to describe, but at the very least, there was no great hostility. Wu was momentarily startled—had this eerie woman changed her ways? There was no sign of violence.
The courtyard had indeed been warmed with several jars of the estate’s finest aged yellow wine. The fire burned brightly with ample charcoal, and the half-open door radiated a cozy warmth. Through the courtyard gate, one could see the silver-white expanse of the lake. The courtyard was not large—only two courtyards deep—but the rooms were sufficient and did not feel cold or lonely. The two maids who normally worked in Chi Xue Yard busied themselves, though the courtyard was already clean. It was merely a gesture to show the estate’s hospitality. The three visiting maids served the wine and the honored guests. Xu Fengnian smiled and asked if they drank wine. They exchanged glances, then nodded gracefully. One of them spoke, saying she could drink about one or two cups, but no more, or she would be scolded by the steward. Xu Fengnian asked for more cups, and the guests and maids shared the warm wine together, enjoying a convivial atmosphere. Wang Xiaoping, the sword-obsessed monk, did not drink and retired to a room to meditate.
Liu Wenbao drank until his nose turned red, muttering poetry and literary passages, amusing the maids who had mistaken him for an old accountant.
Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, “Before entering the courtyard, I saw a small boat moored by the lake. At a time like this, may I go out on the lake?”
One of the bolder maids, her eyes sparkling, spoke softly: “Master Xu, the estate has boatmen who can ferry you. Just let me send word, and you may go fishing on the lake. You may even warm wine on the boat. But the snow is too heavy now. If you wish to fish on the lake, you must wear a thick cotton-lined straw cloak.”
Xu Fengnian nodded: “Then please bring the cloak and hat. There’s no need for a boatman.”
The graceful maid nodded and departed with a swaying gait. Soon, she returned with the same elegance. Qing Niao rose to help the young master don the heavy straw cloak. Xu Fengnian took up a delicate bamboo hat and a box of carefully prepared bait and stepped out of the courtyard. Except for Xuan Yuan Qingfeng, the entire group followed him to the lakeside. Xu Fengnian alone stepped onto the small boat, waving to the group with a smile. The five maids were entranced by the young master’s divine grace, thinking to themselves that even clad in a straw cloak, he remained as handsome as ever. They failed to notice that as soon as Xu Qiji (Xu Fengnian’s alias) boarded the boat, the oar remained still, yet the boat glided smoothly onto the lake.
In the heavy snowfall, a lone boat floated on the vast lake, its occupant cloaked in straw and hat.
A single rod dangled in the icy river.
The maids finally snapped out of their trance but lingered for a long time. Only when the cold became unbearable did they reluctantly return to Chi Xue Yard.
Half an hour later, a group of white-clad figures arrived, gliding over the water. Both men and women, they moved like white butterflies, their auras transcendent and refined.
Drifting as if ascending to the heavens.
These ethereal beings danced lightly across the water, leaping fifty or sixty feet in a single bound, soaring high over the small boat, heading straight for the Youyan Manor.
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