The vast expanse of Hulu Pass hosted a grand, hastily erected martial arts platform. Three miles east and west of the platform stood two inspection towers, one for veteran generals of Beiliang and the other for scholars and officials, forming a balanced, complementary structure akin to a royal court. The literary tower had six levels, one more than the martial tower, which gave the scholars ascending it a sense of pride. Inside, Beiliang’s civil officials included high-ranking governors. Except for the newly appointed governor of Lingzhou, Xu Beizhi, the governors of Youzhou and Liangzhou had already reached the top floor, where they stood with the strategist Li Gongde, gazing into the distance. Yet, the two closest to Li Gongde were not Hu Kui, the Liangzhou governor, or Wang Peifang, the Youzhou governor, but two unfamiliar faces: Wang Jijiu from Shangyin Academy and Huang Chang, originally destined for the imperial censors’ office in the capital. Their tall hats and flowing robes fluttered in the wind, enhancing their refined and ethereal demeanor.
Hu Kui, by regulation, ranked half a level higher than the Lingzhou governor in Beiliang Dao. Compared to the elderly men in the tower, he was in his prime. Once the commander of the torch cavalry, his Da Maying unit was renowned for its elite scouts and had earned many battle honors. Hu Kui had once been on the verge of becoming the Liangzhou general when, eight years ago, he led three hundred light cavalry deep into the heart of Longyaozhou, killing over twelve hundred Northern Meng iron riders. As a result, he lost his position, allowing Chen Zhibao to take over the torch cavalry and assemble the elite scouts who outmatched Dong Zhuo’s ravens of the Northern Meng. After his dismissal, Hu Kui faced betrayal and isolation, turning instead to civil service. Starting as a minor official in Liangzhou, he rose to become governor within seven years, earning the nickname of “resurrected ashes” among Beiliang officials, who found it unjust.
Wang Peifang, the Youzhou governor, was a pure scholar by background, often at odds with Hu Kui, who had twenty years of military experience. Wang frequently visited Qingliang Mountain to complain to the Beiliang King about Hu Kui’s lawlessness and the harassment of Youzhou officials by his subordinates. Unlike Hu Kui, who stood alone at the far right of the top floor, Wang mingled with scholars from the academy, exchanging pleasantries and discussing nostalgic poetry, enjoying a harmonious atmosphere.
Hu Kui wore the resplendent official robe of the third rank, first grade, living up to his name with his towering stature, standing out among the slender scholars on the top floor. Upon ascending, he stood silently by the railing, gazing at the troops lining the riverbanks. Memories of his past haunted him; had it not been for that misfortune, he would have been among them, commanding the parade. He shifted his gaze to the martial arts platform, gripping the railing with a sigh.
A young scholar, Yu Luandao, introduced by Wang Daxian of Shangyin Academy to Li Gongde, stood out with his composed demeanor. Despite his aloofness, he was well-mannered, drawing criticism from other scholars for his arrogance. Dressed in jade belt and long sword, his refined appearance drew attention. As the literary tower trembled under countless footsteps, many scholars from afar paled at the sight of Beiliang’s formidable troops, but Yu Luandao remained calm. Seizing the moment when Huang Chang discussed establishing a school and a literary society with Li Gongde, Yu approached Hu Kui silently. After a long silence, Hu Kui surprisingly spoke first, “You must be the eldest grandson of the Yin Yang Yu family. On your first day at Shangyin Academy, you solved six of Huang Sanjia’s nine questions. Song Jia’s scholars praised you as ‘eloquent and insightful, fit for court or literary circles.’ Even our formidable second princess admires your writings. But I noticed you for another reason—you wrote ‘Song of Liangzhou’s Great Horse,’ commemorating Da Maying. On behalf of 260 fallen brothers, I thank you.”
Hu Kui placed one hand behind his back and tapped the railing, “Green and yellow, the wild sheep is slain. Liangzhou’s great horse dies in a foreign land. Good, indeed. Even a rough warrior like me finds it easy to recite. With just these two lines, if you asked for a fourth-rank position tomorrow, I would gladly grant it. Many writers could pen such simple words, but they choose not to.”
Yu Luandao, the eldest grandson of the Yin Yang Yu family, was destined for greatness. At one year old, he grasped both the “Spring and Autumn Annals” and the legendary sword “Da Luan.” By four, his poetry was renowned, and at fourteen, he journeyed alone to Shangyin Academy, sword in hand, captivating the world. His journey to Beiliang angered the Liang dynasty, leading to his family’s persecution in Guangling.
Yu Luandao looked at his sword and smiled, “General Hu, I didn’t come to Beiliang for a position. I merely wish to see the Crown Prince once, and my life will be complete. I despise the corrupt aristocracy, the pretentious Guozijian, and the treacherous court. Only the Crown Prince earns my respect. I want to ask him directly: if one day Beiliang cannot withstand the Northern Meng’s hundred thousand riders, will Xu Fengnian dare to die on the battlefield, defending the northwest gateway for Central Plains? If he agrees, then in the future, among the fallen, there will be one more—Yu Luandao! We scholars seek fame in peace, but in times of turmoil, we must die to secure peace for the people!”
Hu Kui replied calmly, “I fear you scholars talk well on paper but falter in reality.”
Yu Luandao laughed, “I fear the same, so after the parade, I will enlist as a common soldier. Let’s see if I’m a horse or a donkey. Along the way, I’ve seen many northern beauties, tall and bold, quite to my liking. Before I die, I must marry one such woman to make this journey worthwhile. Since I have no elders here, would you, General Hu, help me with the marriage proposal?”
Hu Kui shrugged, “I have no great skills, but I’m good at collecting corpses. If you die, I’ll bury you.”
Many scholars on the top floor, unable to join the balcony, envied Yu Luandao’s interactions with Li Gongde and Hu Kui, unaware of his intent to die for Beiliang.
Snow began to fall, growing heavier. Beiliang’s bitter cold meant the snow would not stop, promising a blizzard. Yu Luandao reached out to catch a snowflake, his slender fingers elegant. Hu Kui sniffed the air; half an hour remained until the martial arts display. A master scout, he possessed uncanny skills, including time estimation by scent and weather prediction. His expertise in Daoist techniques for finding water was vital to Beiliang’s military success, making Xu’s cavalry formidable.
Hu Kui suddenly pointed to the martial arts platform, “Yu Luandao, in half an hour, watch closely. You’ll see who stands there and know if Beiliang’s thirty thousand riders can withstand the Northern Meng’s hundred thousand!”
On the western martial tower, a half-level lower than the literary tower, grizzled generals cursed the arrangement, blaming the Crown Prince. Beiliang’s military factions included Yan Wenluan and Zhong Hongwu, while Chen Zhibao’s younger officers had mostly left for Xishu. Older generals, though retired, maintained influence. The martial tower usually followed hierarchy, but today, an old one-armed man, Lin Doufang, refused to ascend, prompting his comrades to stay with him.
Lin Doufang, once a cavalry commander, retired to obscurity but remained close to Xu Jia. His presence at the farewell to the Crown Prince in the capital underscored his bond with Xu. Despite his retirement, his camaraderie drew respect. Even retired generals like Liu Yuanji and Yu Tieshan joined him, contrasting the literary tower’s refined atmosphere.
Liu Yuanji, a hot-tempered veteran, ranted about the martial tower’s inferior height, “The young master’s idea, no doubt! It’s an insult to us old soldiers!” His outbursts were legendary, even daring to spit at General Xu Xiu, earning him a whipping and a night in the cold. Liu’s defiance continued, “I won’t quarrel with the General, but I’ll snore to keep him awake!”
Liu ranted for a while, then turned to criticize the Crown Prince’s treatment of Zhong Hongwu. Yu Tieshan, recently retired, remained silent. Liu’s tirade was interrupted by a punch from Lin Doufang. Enraged, Liu struck back, “Old Lin, I’ve wanted to hit you for years! You promised to fight the Northern Meng with me. We were born the same day, same month, same year, vying for brotherhood by who killed more. But you hid in Beiliang! And when you planned to elope with the Southern Tang princess, who kept watch? Now you stop me from scolding the young master? You coward, hiding for twenty years, not touching a sword. How dare you call yourself my brother?”
The two old men were immediately separated by their respective companions. Taking advantage of the moment when Liu Yuanji was cursing, Lin Dufang, who had been dragged backward with his hands bound, kicked Liu Yuanji several times, his fury overflowing as he roared, “Liu San’er, our past accounts are all muddled and confused! If I owe you, I swear on my next life I’ll be your ox or horse. If I flinch even once, I’ll be your grandson! But don’t drag our Young Lord into this! You dare insult the Young Lord? Then let me ask you, how many times were you whipped by the General and cast aside outside, and who was the child who secretly brought you fine wine? Who listened to your endless, ridiculous stories all night long? Who told me personally that the General had a fine son, and even said he’d marry all his daughters to that boy? Liu San’er! Liu San’er! You think you’re something now that you’re the Deputy Commander of the Foot Soldiers? Don’t think I don’t know about your son—seizing several state-owned salt yards, making more than a bushel of gold daily. He dares to kill not only salt workers but even imperial guards! Oh, Liu San’er, you’ve raised three sons even greater than the Young Lord! The Young Lord merely killed the cavalry general of Jing’an King Zhao Heng in Qingzhou, and the fifth master of the Northern Desert’s Ti Bing Mountain, but never once dared to harm a commoner in Beiliang! Liu San’er, do you believe I’ll go straight to the General and ask for a title—just to kill those bastards of yours who call me ‘Uncle’?!”
The old general, addressed repeatedly as Liu San’er, was momentarily stunned, then his rage surged. Glaring, he shouted back, “Nonsense! Lin, tell me clearly—who killed the salt workers or imperial soldiers? My sons would never commit such atrocities!”
With a sudden surge of strength, Lin Dufang broke free from the restraining elders, including Yu Tieshan, and landed a punch straight on Liu Yuanji’s face. “Everyone in Beiliang knows, except for you, a blind old fool!”
Inside the martial hall, a heavy silence fell.
Liu Yuanji looked around. Yu Tieshan remained silent and calm, while many elders avoided his gaze. The Deputy Commander finally sat down heavily, trembling lips and waving off the offer of help, gasping for breath.
Lin Dufang, still not satisfied, attempted to kick Liu Yuanji again, but Yu Tieshan quickly held him back with all his might, barely stopping the old veteran who had once created the Lotus Camp.
Such a scene inside the hall was enough to leave outsiders stunned.
Lin Dufang took a deep breath, patted Yu Tieshan’s hand, and the latter slowly released him. Lin sat down opposite Liu Yuanji, turned his gaze to the snowstorm outside, and sighed softly, “Liu San’er, Old Yu, we old men with half our lives already buried, always say we helped the General win the world and protect the kingdom. I know you’re not clinging to power out of greed or desire for wealth. To you, it’s enough if your descendants live comfortably. Any more is the fortune you earned with your lives. But because of that, your descendants, having never known hardship, grow arrogant. Even the best seeds will rot under such indulgence. Don’t you remember how we all resented the Young Lord for his idleness back then? I was furious myself. When the General personally came to my fields to visit, I refused to even turn around and greet him. But let’s be fair—what has the Young Lord done these past years? If the Liyang court chooses not to recognize it, fine. But you’re not blind—don’t you know the truth? Let’s speak from the heart: when the Young Lord went to the capital, did he disgrace Beiliang? At Xiangfan, Guangling River, Tiemenguan, the Northern Desert’s Ruoshui River, and even on the imperial road in Taian City—how many inside this hall could match what the Young Lord did? You, Liu San’er, who can’t even control your own son? Or you, Old Yu, who’s grown fond of smoothing things over and playing peacemaker as you age? Or you, Han Tuizhi, who these years have only cared about advancing your disciples’ careers?”
Lin Dufang turned back to Liu Yuanji, “Liu San’er, the General owes us nothing, and neither does the Young Lord. We built the empire, but guarding Beiliang is not something we can do, nor can we do it well. Let’s leave it to those in the Literary Hall. What if their hall is taller than ours? During the Spring and Autumn Periods, how many ministers and officials looked down on the Xu family cavalry? Yet we made them pay dearly. If you fear your descendants will be disrespected, let them earn their own way instead of riding on your old glories. The General once said something crude but true: no one’s son is born to suffer or to enjoy blessings. Elsewhere, it may not matter, but in Beiliang, you get blessings or hardships according to your abilities. So, Liu San’er, it’s we who now owe the Xu family. Perhaps not us personally, but our descendants owe them a great deal.”
Lin Dufang patted Liu Yuanji’s shoulder, then stood, bent down, and helped him up, brushing off the dust from the footprints he had left on Liu’s chest.
Liu Yuanji suddenly grinned, “Damn it, Lin, I only punched you once, but look at you—you’ve landed several punches and kicks!”
Lin Dufang laughed, “I told you—I’m better than you. You can’t argue with that. If I weren’t still holding onto old feelings, I’d have used my signature low-kick on you!”
Liu Yuanji, his arm around Lin’s shoulder, had meant to curse a little, but when he touched the empty sleeve, he fell silent. Back then, it was Liu San’er who gritted his teeth and bandaged his brother’s wounds. He couldn’t bear to show emotion in front of Lin, but after leaving the tent, he had crouched outside, weeping bitterly. That pain felt worse than losing his own arm.
Liu Yuanji remembered clearly that year when Lin Dufang lost his arm and the General was gravely injured. The young boy could do nothing but stand pale-faced outside the tent. The two, old and young, leaned against the tent together, keeping watch through the night.
Liu Yuanji, Lin Dufang, Yu Tieshan, and Han Tuizhi, the four old comrades, walked together to the entrance of the martial hall. Snow fell heavily. Though the days of iron armor wrapped in yellow dust were gone, the icy river stretched northward, covered in black armor beneath the snow.
Ten thousand infantry and cavalry of Beiliang formed two massive battle arrays east and west, leaving a narrow path in the center.
Yuan Nanting, commander of the White Feather Cavalry, approached the frozen river, mounted high on his horse.
Also present were the Lotus Camp, the Great Horse Camp, the Partridge Camp, the Vanguard Camp, and thirty-two other veteran and new camps, all lined up in a single row, their momentum (qi) mighty and imposing.
Li Hanlin, the young commander of the Snow Camp’s scouts, stood slightly behind, sword at his waist and crossbow on his back, holding his breath. Beside him was Lu Dou, the man with two pupils in one eye. Together, they gazed at the martial stage, eyes burning with anticipation.
The martial stage was empty, save for a massive war drum.
The war drum had not yet sounded, and the familiar horn of Beiliang had not yet been blown.
Finally, a mountain-like figure slowly emerged from the northern staircase of the martial stage.
Chu Lushan, the Protector of Beiliang, was donning armor for the first time in twenty years!
Chu Lushan stood slightly to the left of the center of the martial stage, leaning on his sword.
The new commander-in-chief of Beiliang’s cavalry, the world-renowned cavalry master known as the White Bear, Yuan Zuozong, and the already legendary infantry general Yan Wenluan, both ascended the stage from left and right, standing with swords in hand!
Yuan Zuozong, already famous as a graceful and handsome man, now clad in heavy armor and gripping a Beiliang saber, radiated an awe-inspiring presence.
Though Yan Wenluan might not match Chu Lushan and Yuan Zuozong in height and build—being short and slight, even smaller than many men from the south—he had long ago lost an eye to an enemy arrow. He once pulled the arrow out and swallowed the eyeball, continuing to fight. Before the fall of the Western Chu, the legendary strategist Ye Baikui was unmatched in the Spring and Autumn Nine Kingdoms, yet only Yan Wenluan’s infantry could stand against Ye’s Great Halberd Army. In the later battles against Song and Shu, where Xu family cavalry struggled, it was Yan Wenluan who earned immortal glory.
Who in the world dares to underestimate Yan Wenluan?
Then came Chen Yunchui and He Zhonghu, both former deputies of Liu Yuanji and Yu Tieshan.
Next were the two new deputy commanders: Gu Dazu, the greatest general of Southern Tang, and Zhou Kang, who had controlled Youzhou’s military for over a decade before being promoted to deputy cavalry commander.
Following them were the generals of Liangzhou, Shifu; Youzhou, Huangfu Cheng; and Lingshou, Han Laoshan.
But where was the General? Where was the King of Beiliang?
Finally, Xu Longxiang, clad in black and barefoot, entered the martial stage, flanked by the black tiger, the mount of Qi Xuanzhen.
Chu Lushan, Yuan Zuozong, Yan Wenluan, Chen Yunchui, He Zhonghu, Gu Dazu, Zhou Kang, Shifu, Huangfu Cheng, and Han Laoshan.
Ten men stood in a straight line, swords in hand!
As this second son of the Xu family, who had led the Dragon-Tiger Cavalry to crush several Northern Desert strongholds, appeared, a mournful, soaring horn echoed through the heavens.
Xu Longxiang stepped forward, approaching the war drum, which stood a head and a half taller than a man.
The drum of Beiliang had once echoed loudest at the Western Fortress of the Spring and Autumn Period!
Behind the Beiliang army stood eight hundred riders of the Fengzi Camp, clad in white armor, riding white horses.
As a young man with gray-streaked hair donned the jade-white dragon robe reserved for imperial princes, sword at his waist and spear in hand, an old man led his horse. The white stallion stepped forward a few paces before the hunched old man released the reins, straightened his back, gently patted the horse’s head, and smiled with satisfaction, “Go.”
This lone rider led the eight hundred Fengzi riders through the battlefield, galloping into the snowstorm.
The old man watched the figure disappear into the distance, hands in sleeves, smiling broadly.
Xu Longxiang began to beat the drum.
The thunderous sound rolled across Beiliang.
The lone rider did not gallop across the frozen river, but leapt high into the air, horse and rider soaring over the ice.
As he crossed the river with the drumbeat, the man plunged his iron spear into the ice.
The entire frozen river shattered.
Behind him, the eight hundred riders halted, perfectly filling the gap left by the spear.
The man in the dragon robe, armed only with a Beiliang saber, dismounted before the martial stage, ascended the stone steps, stood at the center, gripped his sword, and roared, “Beiliang—draw swords!”
Chu Lushan no longer leaned on his sword—he drew it!
Yan Wenluan, Yuan Zuozong, Chen Yunchui, and the other nine drew their Beiliang sabers almost simultaneously!
The ten thousand Beiliang soldiers, still motionless under the snowfall, drew their swords!
The snowstorm grew wilder, shaking loose the snow from their armor, their momentum (qi) growing ever more formidable.
The Beiliang cavalry is the strongest in the world.
The Beiliang drum echoes across the heavens.
Beiliang has a new king—Xu Fengnian.
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