On the Huanglong warship, there was no sight of armored soldiers. At the bow stood only an old man slightly hunched, beside him a tall, imposing man born with naturally thick eyebrows, whose half-closed eyes always gave the impression of a tiger dozing off. A little behind them stood a middle-aged man holding a spear. Xu Fengnian landed lightly, exchanged a glance with the old man, greeted Yuan Zuozong, and nodded respectfully to Liu Yanbing, a retainer standing at a distance. As the junior apprentice of Master Wang, Liu Yanbing had always lived in the shadow of the legendary spear master, never achieving fame or performing any remarkable feats, making his martial cultivation unfathomably profound.
Xu Xiao, traveling lightly with Xu Fengnian, walked to the railing and chuckled, “I remember the last time we were on this Spring Spirit Lake, fighting fiercely with Wang Mingyang of Xiangfan City. This time, I took the opportunity to come and have a look. The lake remains the same, but compared to the days when corpses floated on the water and famine plagued the land, it is now much livelier and full of vitality. Seeing it with my own eyes along the way, I now understand that Zhao Heng and his son Zhao Xun have indeed managed their territory well. Even when you casually drink tea or wine in the city, you can hear the people praising Prince Jing’an. I’ve always believed that if an official is criticized by censors, it doesn’t necessarily mean he is corrupt. But if the people praise him, it is likely true.”
Speaking of the young prince who had once been kicked into the Spring Spirit Lake, Xu Fengnian sneered, “It was only because he had an excellent strategist by his side that Zhao Xun wasn’t completely devoured by the Qing Party. Without that support, he would have been finished. The Qing Party, which relied on unity to achieve success, was quickly dismantled by Zhang Julu, and could no longer compete with the Zhang and Gu factions. But against Zhao Xun, who lacked the prestige to control Qing Province, they had no trouble at all. After all, who really cares whether Xiangfan and Qing Province are ruled by the Zhao family? Someone helped him establish connections, persuaded the old foxes with clear benefits, offered several temptations like the marriage to a princess, and subtly arranged for a powerful official position in the capital for the son of a Qing Party leader. Later, the truth was revealed through someone else’s words. Without these tangible benefits and favors, Zhao Xun would have ended up just like Prince Huainan.”
Xu Xiao gripped the railing and laughed, “It must be that blind strategist Lu Xu who played chess with you in Yongzi Alley. The Fourteen Strategies of Ershu were written by him. I’ve read them too, and even a brute like me could understand them—it’s no small feat. Zhao Heng, that woman, made mistakes in every major decision, but she did well in entrusting her son to someone. As Yishan said, it was done without pretense, as naturally as water flowing. That’s why people shouldn’t have everything go their way. When things are too easy, they still cling to their pride when they face desperate situations and refuse to do what it takes to survive.”
Xu Fengnian asked, “Why did you decide to leave Beiliang? With Yuan Erge and Lu Qiu’er replacing the old generals, Beiliang looks unstable to anyone’s eyes. With the momentum from the previous border breakthrough by the Beiliang cavalry, Dong Zhuo and Hong Jingyan of Beiman are no longer restrained. Aren’t you worried that Beiman will retaliate and catch us off guard? What if there are traitors within Beiliang…”
Xu Fengnian stopped there, and Xu Xiao waved his hand and laughed, “Internal and external coordination? I wish those rotten ulcers would just expose themselves. It’s worse when they hide. Some people have shared life and death with me for half their lives, so I can only turn a blind eye. I promised them long ago that as long as they didn’t die on the battlefield, they could have women, silver, and official titles until they were satisfied. I’ve owed a lot to the dead, but I don’t think I’ve wronged many of the living.
Take Zhong Hongwu, for example. When I first met him, he was just a squad leader. I joked with him, asking what rank he wanted to reach. He said he’d be satisfied with being a commander of a few hundred soldiers, able to kill anyone he disliked, and that would be enough for him. And Yan Wenluan, what a lively young man he was back then. He always talked about becoming a horse trader so he could die on a horse’s back. If he became a peaceful official with no worries, he said he’d grow old and not want to ride anymore, and feared he’d die on a woman’s lap.
Sometimes, when I look at those old generals who have grown fat and complacent with their high positions and wealth, I suddenly feel like I don’t recognize them anymore. Back then, there were brothers who dared to scold me to my face, saying if they were the general, they’d do better than me. There were old comrades who would go mad at night, grabbing a jar of wine and coming to my tent to challenge me to drinking games. And there were those who jokingly threatened me, saying if I didn’t promise a marriage between our kids, we wouldn’t be brothers anymore. At that time, Li Yishan and Zhao Changling were still alive, Zhong Hongwu and Yan Wenluan hadn’t aged yet, and the kids like Chen Zhibao and Yuan Zuozong were even younger.
Back then, I loved going to war and never feared death. If I wasn’t afraid, who dared to be? If you lacked courage, you were told to go home and stay with your wife. So whenever there was a battle, I would go crazy with excitement. When there were no battles, I would stubbornly beg the officials for one. Want silver? I don’t care for it. I’ll give you all I have, and if it’s not enough, I’ll let you borrow more. After I win, you can just send carts to collect it. Want military merit? Fine, just give my brothers a little credit, don’t be too harsh on those who risk their lives, and your descendants can just show up and get rewards even if they stay far from the battlefield. With this, who wouldn’t want to do business with me? It’s a bargain with a thousandfold profit—only a fool would refuse.
Then the court came to know of a young, savage Xu from the poor regions of Liaodong, who rose by chance, not greedy for wealth or glory, but only wishing to die on the battlefield. So those court officials who were close to me were happy to provide troops and weapons, hoping to gain influence through my military achievements. Those who hated me were even happier, thinking, ‘If Xu Xiao wants to die, let him go fight the toughest battles.’ And so, I fought my way south, and the aristocratic families in the court, who had always looked down on me, finally lifted their curtains slightly to take a peek, only to realize with fear, ‘When did this Xu savage become so powerful?’
Xu Xiao grinned and raised one hand, “Five thousand cavalry. With just five thousand iron riders, I destroyed the Northern Han. The young emperor of Northern Han once challenged me, saying that Xu was unworthy of my wife, Wu Su, and that she must have been blind not to be able to wield a sword. I didn’t argue with him. In the end, I led six hundred elite riders straight through the palace gates and stormed the throne hall. That fellow was paralyzed on the dragon throne, so scared he wet his pants.”
Xu Fengnian’s eyes softened with a smile. He had heard this story countless times, so familiar he could recite it, but unlike before when he showed impatience, now he was willing to listen whenever Xu Xiao wanted to speak.
Xu Xiao suddenly laughed awkwardly, clearly thirsty, and waved to Yuan Zuozong, who had deliberately stood far away, “Go get two jugs of white wine. No need to warm it. The stronger, the better.”
Yuan Zuozong quickly brought two jugs of wine. Each took one, and after this pause, Xu Xiao no longer spoke of his past, but softly said, “Han Shengxuan is dead, Liu Haoshi is also gone. Only half-tongued Yuan Benxi and Zhao Huangchao remain. What your father couldn’t do, my son has done. I couldn’t be happier. This time leaving Beiliang, aside from giving Yan Wenluan and others one last chance, I mainly wanted to walk the path you once took. Along the way, I visited the Jin family’s mansion. I didn’t intend to trouble them, but I heard that after the old man of Jin Lanting, the Right Sacrificial Official Jin, learned that I passed by without entering, he died of fright the same day.”
Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly, “Didn’t even let them have a good New Year.”
Xu Xiao simply smiled, gazing northwest, and said slowly, “These past two years, I’ve been thinking about one thing—if Beiman really insists on marching south, then in the end, how much strength I can leave in your hands. I’ve fought so many battles in my life, some won, some lost, more victories than defeats, but when I lost, it was truly devastating, sometimes nearly total annihilation. After those defeats, when I saw those young faces blackened by smoke and fire still smiling at me, not regretting following me, I felt so bitter inside. I vowed that even if I by luck became an official and had a son, I would still make sure he experienced the battlefield himself. Only then could I feel at peace with my soldiers. But when I actually had a son, and the Zhao family wanted to summon you to the capital to become a prince consort, I actually considered agreeing. At the time, I thought I’d bear the guilt alone, and when I went underground, I’d apologize to my old brothers. Deep down, I selfishly hoped my son wouldn’t have to endure this hardship. So I took wine to the Tingchao Pavilion to drink with Yishan. Do you know what happened? Yishan threw the wine outside. Later, when he heard you had gone wandering the martial world, I went back to drink with him again, and this time he smiled, and I couldn’t even stop him from drinking. So over the years, many old generals settled in Beiliang, and many sons of heroes became cowards. When their sons caused trouble, they had to clean up the mess. Some still showed a little face and came directly to Qingliang Mountain to beg me for mercy. Others thought I wouldn’t notice and secretly did worse things—killing people, covering up crimes, and rooting out enemies, their methods no less ruthless than in the Spring and Autumn Wars. Some even thought, ‘I risked my life fighting alongside Xu Xiao to build this military legacy, so what’s the big deal if my son kills a few people or bullies a few women? Killing and burning became justified. They didn’t stop to think why they were willing to risk their lives following Xu Xiao, why they killed officials without hesitation.”
Xu Xiao took a hard swig of wine and laughed, “I originally wanted Yishan to do something, but he said you absolutely refused. What were you thinking?”
Xu Fengnian calmly replied, “You’ve already gained a notorious reputation. Do you need even more blame? You still have some good reputation among the old soldiers of Beiliang. You may not fear being accused of being ungrateful and crossing the river only to dismantle the bridge behind you, but I do. The emperor’s strategy of removing old generals before a new emperor ascends the throne shouldn’t be used in Beiliang. Let me handle it. I can do it more comfortably, and I have fewer burdens. Zhong Hongwu was just an example to scare others. In the future, in Beiliang, personal relationships are one thing, but rules are another. Whoever tries to use personal favors to break the rules, I’ll make sure they pack up and leave. This time returning to Beiliang, I’ll first go to the western desert to win over those tens of thousands of exiled warriors, and then I’ll travel throughout Beiliang. I’ve walked through the Jianghu of Liyang, through the lands of Beiman, and I’ll walk through my own Beiliang too.”
Xu Xiao nodded with satisfaction, continuing to drink.
After finishing his last sip of strong wine, Xu Xiao shook the empty jug and softly said, “When we get back to Beiliang, don’t rush to gather those exiled forces that Yishan supported. First, accompany your old man to see the Beiliang Iron Cavalry, okay?”
Xu Fengnian bit his lip and smiled, “Since when does a father always ask his son if he’s okay?”
Xu Xiao threw the jug into the lake and laughed, “Since when does a father repeatedly send his son out into danger?”
Xu Xiao tucked both hands into his sleeves, looked up at the sky, and squinted, “Last time I was too busy killing all the way, didn’t notice. This time I realize how bone-chillingly cold the south can be. I’m getting old.”
Xu Fengnian silently took off his red fox fur hat, placed it on Xu Xiao’s head, and gently pulled it down to cover the old man’s ears.
The old man moved his lips slightly, then suddenly turned around.
Perhaps unwilling to let his son see the tears of an aging hero.
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