Xiangfan City, dressed in silver snow like a noblewoman in a fur coat, was hard to imagine as the ghost city it had been twenty years ago, much like a poor widow who had suddenly married into a wealthy family, now showing no sign of her former poverty, only the glimmer of jewels and opulence.
A carriage slowly rolled along a quiet, narrow alley, the horse’s hooves clattering softly on the bluestone, producing a crisp rhythm. The coachman was a delicate woman known in Jing’an Mansion as Apricot, a personal maid to Master Lu. As Lu Young Master’s standing in Xiangfan grew ever more secure—especially with his blindness—so too did her status. Even the chief steward of the mansion dared not slight her, always offering a forced smile, fearing she might whisper grievances into Lu Young Master’s ear. Whether she and Lu Young Master had ever truly shared a bed was anyone’s guess. Who in Jing’an Mansion didn’t know that Lu Young Master was the favored confidant of the young prince? Who would dare spread rumors and risk being beaten to death?
The loyal Apricot, whose birth name was Liu Lingbao, carefully drew back the carriage curtain. Lu Xu stepped down and entered the private courtyard house, while Apricot remained respectfully outside, not daring to glance twice at the gate. The small courtyard had two pavilions, originally planted with two crabapple trees. But crabapples thrive in sunlight, not shade, and the courtyard was dim, deprived of light; one tree had already withered and died.
Lu Xu walked straight toward the main hall. Before ascending the steps, he paused. A woman stationed at the door, her face clouded with worry, saw him and first expressed surprise, then joy. She hurried down the steps, stopping at a respectful distance, bowing gently and saying, “Greetings, Master Xu.”
Lu Xu offered a faint smile, bowing his head slightly in return. Though he inwardly detested this mysterious, beguiling woman, and had never tried to hide it from the young prince, he still maintained outward civility when dealing with her. A crash of porcelain echoed from inside the house. Lu Xu lifted his head toward the main hall, frowning. Ever since the manifestation of the True Martial Emperor had stepped onto a boat at Spring God Lake, the Prince Jing’an had returned to Xiangfan in a daze and hadn’t appeared publicly for many days, delaying many urgent matters requiring his imperial seal. Though Lu Xu was undeniably the prince’s most trusted advisor, overstepping his bounds was a cardinal sin for any strategist.
The woman pursed her lips and sighed. “I beg you, Master Lu, please speak to His Highness. The Prince has only been drinking since his return and hasn’t eaten.”
Lu Xu nodded and ascended the steps. The woman followed closely behind. Her beauty was both dignified and alluring, bearing a striking resemblance to the late princess who had died alongside the former Prince Jing’an. She gently pushed open the door for Lu Xu.
Inside, Zhao Xun was disheveled, leaning against the wall in a corner, surrounded by a dozen empty wine jugs, reeking of alcohol. Gone was the regal bearing of a prince. Upon seeing Lu Xu, he first looked ashamed, then grew angry. Trembling, he picked up a wine jug, only to find it empty. The young prince, whose reputation in Xiangfan rivaled his father’s, tilted his head back for a long time, waiting in vain for a drop of wine. With a frustrated toss, he hurled the jug, shattering the last porcelain vase on the shelf.
Though blind in sight, Lu Xu saw clearly into Zhao Xun’s heart. He was unsurprised by the prince’s despair. This heir had never faced great adversity in his life. After becoming the new Prince Jing’an, his path had been smooth sailing, until now—when his most hated enemy had crushed his pride in a nearly invincible display. Lu Xu did not offer comfort, but turned and reached out, taking a new wine jug from the woman’s hand. He sat opposite Zhao Xun and handed it to the young prince, who could only hide and drown his sorrows in drink. Only after hearing the woman’s footsteps retreat and the door shut did Lu Xu speak slowly, “If the heir of Beiliang truly is the reincarnation of the True Martial Emperor, that would be fortunate indeed.”
Zhao Xun’s eyes, clouded with despair, flickered with a glimmer of clarity. He took the wine jug, halting his drinking motion, and stared intently at Lu Xu, the true pillar of Xiangfan.
Lu Xu’s expression remained calm and composed. “Years ago, the Yin-Yang and Five Elements doctrines flourished at the Shangyin Academy. Huang Sanjia predicted that the Liyang Dynasty, representing the Fire Element, would unify the realm. Water overcomes Fire, and Beiliang, in the northwest, is home to Wudang Mountain, where the True Martial Emperor is revered. Eight hundred years ago, the True Martial descended and became the Qin Emperor, who ruled under the Water Element, rising from the southern border of Beiliang. How could the Zhao dynasty feel secure? That’s why the Astronomical Bureau once encouraged the ‘White Robe Incident’ in the capital. For an emperor who consults spirits rather than the people, dynastic change and elemental cycles must be taken seriously. The late prince was the adopted son of Wang Xianzhi of Wudi City. The disturbance at Spring God Lake only heightened the tension. I don’t believe the emperor could remain indifferent. I believe Wang Xianzhi may ignore imperial decrees, but I doubt he could resist the temptation of a duel with the True Martial Emperor. What greater final battle could there be than facing a god descended from heaven? The court may tolerate a prince who has already gained power, but it will never accept a Beiliang King with ambitions and destiny, sitting in the north, eyeing the south. Why not make a wager, Your Highness? Bet whether Wang Xianzhi will leave the city soon?”
Zhao Xun’s eyes lit up. He paid no heed to Lu Xu’s slight disrespect toward the imperial Zhao family, clapping his hands with a hearty laugh. “You’re right! I wouldn’t dare bet—I’d surely lose!”
Lu Xu stood, brushing off his robes, and added, “A prince drowning in wine for days—what kind of example is that? If you’re not ashamed of being laughed at by me, then surely you should be ashamed of being laughed at by a woman. I’ve heard men like to show off in front of women they admire, but I’ve never heard of a man deliberately playing the fool in front of them.”
Zhao Xun chuckled, slightly embarrassed, but the blind scholar couldn’t see it. He set down the wine jug, stood abruptly, and straightened his disheveled clothes. A deep, suppressed cough echoed from outside the house. Zhao Xun rushed to open the door, snatching a secret letter from the hand of a silent guard without even glancing at his face. The letter had been delivered by a homing pigeon to Jing’an Mansion. As he unfolded it, his face flushed with excitement, his handsome features contorted with joy. He read the few lines over and over before crushing the letter in his fist. He turned and strode forward, grabbing Lu Xu in a tight embrace, laughing loudly. “Master Lu, you truly are as prophetic as Huang Sanjia! He’s left the city! He’s left!”
From a distance in the courtyard, the woman stole a glance and saw the blind man’s serene, confident face. For some reason, she had the distinct feeling that the smiling Lu Xu was not truly smiling.
※※※
In the peaceful Shen Family Village, smoke rose gently from chimneys, and the sounds of chickens and dogs filled the air. An elderly scholar in green robes, his temples white, walked in. His demeanor was refined, his bearing elegant—once a man who could steal the hearts of many women at first sight. He stood quietly by a row of lush trees at the village entrance, used to ward off evil and invite fortune, as if waiting for someone.
Huang Longshi stepped out of the house, and the two men faced each other. Huang hesitated for a moment before walking toward the older man in green, both standing by the winding stream at the village edge.
The scholar in green robes smiled faintly. “A few years back, I secretly flipped through the Shen family records. Your handwriting is still the same as when you studied at Shangyin Academy. I guessed you’d probably appear here, so I came to test my luck.”
Huang Longshi tugged at his lips. “What brings you here, Cao Changqing? With the restoration of the Xichu Kingdom imminent, you have countless matters to attend to. Oh, I see. It’s because the old monster Wang Xianzhi has left Wudi City and returned to the martial world. But if that old monster is the one targeting that poor soul, even if you’ve already reached the pinnacle of cultivation, you still can’t stop him. Unless Deng Tai’a returns from the East Sea and agrees to join forces with you. But if you truly provoke Wang Xianzhi, and he sets his heart on killing someone, not even the heavens can save them. A monster like him, once in five hundred years, is worthy of challenging Lü Zu himself. You can’t help but respect him.”
Cao Changqing asked with a smile, “If I join forces with Luoyang, can we still not protect Xu Fengnian?”
Huang Longshi shook his head. “When the trouble began, Song Nianqing summoned the Immortal Sword directly. I thought his final Fourteenth Sword would at most reach the Heaven’s Will level, but I didn’t expect that old man to suffer a spasm, and Liu Haoshi seized the opportunity with uncanny precision. Luoyang made a mistake this time. If you hope that young man survives unscathed, you can only wish he doesn’t suffer the same spasm and summon another manifestation of the True Martial Emperor, like at Spring God Lake. Otherwise, even if Wang Xianzhi initially only meant to leave the city to appease the emperor, he might get carried away and decide to fight. But once you summon a god, it’s hard to send him back. Not to mention that these so-called ‘false immortals’ can’t withstand Wang Xianzhi’s full power. Even if he lets them go, expelling the god will cost that young man dearly. In my opinion, someone close to him is likely to die—Luoyang? Xu Longxiang? Or even Xu Xiao?”
Cao Changqing sighed. “So even the reincarnation of the True Martial Emperor brings no benefit.”
Huang Longshi sneered. “It was always a losing gamble. Look at that young man’s life over the past twenty years—has anyone around him lived easily? Assuming there is such a thing as divine reincarnation, eight hundred years ago, the True Martial became the Qin Emperor, rising with the times. But now, even if the Three Pure Ones themselves descend from their thrones in the Three Clear Hall, they won’t be able to defy the Zhao dynasty, which is ordained by heaven. Only after three hundred years and fourteen generations will…”
Cao Changqing smiled and pressed, “Only then what?”
Huang Longshi smirked. “You’ll know if you live another three or four hundred years.”
Cao Changqing laughed lightly. “No matter what happens in the centuries to come, as long as we do our best in the present, without getting stuck in narrow paths, we can face our hearts with peace in the end.”
For the first time, Huang Longshi asked someone else a question. “What about that girl favored by Li Chungan?”
Cao Changqing teased, “Can’t even predict that?”
Huang Longshi replied calmly, “There are many people I can’t predict.”
Cao Changqing sighed. “At the Battle Cat of Shenwu City, Princess and I watched from the side. If not for that sword that flew to Wudi City, another sword would have fallen from the sky.”
Huang Longshi said, “We’re just old men chatting beneath an ancient locust tree. As for the martial world, it’s merely a fleeting glow before final darkness.”
Cao Changqing smiled and said nothing.
※※※
A towering old man, his hair as white as snow, avoided the smooth roads and instead chose the deepest, most desolate forests, moving like a flash of lightning.
As he neared a city, he finally slowed his pace, though still faster than a galloping horse.
The old man in coarse hemp clothes, having left the eastern coast, stopped for the first time in his westward journey.
A young woman of unparalleled beauty stood before him, her hands resting on the hilt of an ancient sword buried in the earth.
She blocked the path of Wang Xianzhi of Wudi City.
She had only one sword—Daliang Longque.
And she faced the greatest martial artist in the world, who had reigned supreme for sixty years.
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