Clad in the old armor of the Tang Dynasty, the junior officer mused over the meanings of the two names for a moment but found nothing extraordinary, only feeling they lacked intimidation. Disappointed, the officer pointed his blade at the rough-clad man. Twenty-some spearmen rushed forth in unison. The young man on horseback remained calm, gently tapping his right hand’s knuckles with his right index finger as he gripped the reins. Just as the spearmen were about to thrust their spears and pierce both man and horse like a porcupine, a single rider burst from the imperial city, roaring with a thunderous voice to halt the onslaught. Still, two agile foot soldiers failed to stop in time and lunged with their iron spears. The next moment, those two city guards were sent flying backward, as if struck by a colossal arrow through their chests, spurting blood and dying upon impact.
The officer in Tang armor had sharp eyes and recognized the Mayi swordsman’s invisible killing technique. If this rogue wasn’t a minor martial arts master, he’d pluck out his own eyes. He wheeled his horse around and respectfully bowed to the general who had galloped from the city gate. “This humble officer greets General He Da Jie, the Grand Commander of the Eastern Expedition!”
The middle-aged general, addressed respectfully as the Grand Commander of the Eastern Expedition, glanced casually at the swordsman’s face. He noticed a faint, cold smirk on the rogue’s lips, which made the rough general flush with embarrassment. His title as Grand Commander was, of course, as wild as it could get—an honorific bestowed by Qing Cang’s ruler, Cai Jun Chen, to reward his meritorious service. These titles—second or third rank—cost Cai Jun Chen not a single copper coin. Alongside He Da Jie, there were also Grand Commanders for the Western Pacification, Northern Patrol, and Southern Inspection, completing the four cardinal directions. To the east of Qing Cang lay the Northern Liang, so for years, He Da Jie had been mocked by his peers and political rivals, who often joked about him achieving a great victory in the Northern Liang.
Though He Da Jie bore the title of Grand Commander, he actually commanded only about fifteen hundred troops, with armored soldiers making up less than half. He ignored the provoking remarks of the city guard officer and turned solemnly to the rough-clad swordsman, bowing deeply and saying steadily, “His Majesty wishes to invite you to the palace for a discussion. What say you, sir?”
The swordsman nodded, still unaware he was stepping into a den of dragons and tigers. He gripped the reins and looked toward the city gate. The horse’s hooves clicked crisply on the bluish-white stone slabs. He Da Jie followed behind him, his expression complex, his heart in turmoil. When the swordsman approached the city, secret messages had already reached the Dragon King’s Palace, startling their ruler, who indulged in nightly revels and rarely attended court. The ruler had kicked aside several young, naked beauties, rolled off the bed, and hastily donned a crudely made dragon robe before summoning a court assembly.
Besides He Da Jie, the city had also summoned General Jiang Heng, the Grand Commander of the Southern Inspection, along with the queen and a few other “officials” of little consequence. They argued over a portrait. Jiang Heng insisted that this former heir prince of Northern Liang be killed immediately, claiming such an opportunity was once in a lifetime. After all, the new Northern Liang king had already resolved to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of refugees to honor the old king’s death. It was a matter of life and death. Killing the man in the portrait would be worth the risk. Even if Northern Liang’s cavalry was enraged, Jiang Heng believed they could flee to the Southern Court of Northern Mang with his head and a few thousand elite troops.
Cai Jun Chen had specially inquired with his trusted spy master whether Northern Liang had massed troops on the border. The answer was negative. The man in the portrait had ridden out of Liangzhou alone, entering Qing Cang by himself. This made the cautious Cai Jun Chen even more uncertain. Could this man truly be so reckless, thinking that his status as the Northern Liang king alone could subdue the refugee lands through virtue? Would Cai Jun Chen really strip off the dragon robe he had just donned a few years ago and prostrate himself before this beardless young hothead? Yielding to the clamor of most of his ministers, Cai Jun Chen had resolved to send all the palace’s Master with two thousand cavalry to ensure the young man’s death at the city gate.
However, the queen and He Da Jie opposed this. They argued that if the man surnamed Xu had abandoned his position as the top-ranking prince of Liangzhou, he wouldn’t have come to Qing Cang simply to die. Even if he harbored ill intentions, alone and in the heavily guarded Dragon King’s Palace, he couldn’t cause much trouble. They suggested meeting him first, hearing his intentions, and then deciding accordingly—it would be beneficial with no risk. As a result, He Da Jie was scolded by an old minister for being too soft-hearted. Fortunately, the queen supported him, allowing him to ride out of the palace to greet the new Northern Liang king, dressed in mourning.
Beyond the city gate, there was another palace gate. Xu Feng Nian suddenly smiled and said, “He Da Jie, I’ve heard that you and the gate officer Yang Run Yu, whose father Yang You Xue once served under Gu Da Zu, the Northern Liang infantry deputy commander, were both under him in the Southern Tang.”
He Da Jie, treating the moment with utmost seriousness, replied coldly, “Those old stories are not worth mentioning. It is good that General Gu has risen to high rank in Northern Liang, but I have no need to offer my congratulations.”
Xu Feng Nian chuckled softly. “Gu Da Zu’s rank as Northern Liang’s infantry deputy commander is only second junior grade. Only Yan Wen Luan and Yuan Zuo Zong are of the same rank as your Grand Commander of the Eastern Expedition. If anyone should offer congratulations, it should be Gu Da Zu to you.”
Deeply mocked, He Da Jie snorted coldly.
The palace gate opened, and more than a dozen figures emerged. Their official robes bore embroidered images of cranes, pheasants, qilins, and lions. Surprisingly, the central figure was not Cai Jun Chen but a noblewoman adorned in phoenix headdress and radiant robes. Whether she possessed the grace of a queen was questionable, but the pearls the size of thumbs she wore all over her body certainly looked expensive. This group, if in Li Yang, would have been executed for treason merely for their attire.
Within the palace walls stood two watchtowers. Arrows flew toward Xu Feng Nian in a surprise attack—the long-lost Shu continuous arrows, mother-and-child arrows. The two arrows, differing in length, shot toward his face. The mother-and-child arrows were only introductory techniques in Shu’s continuous archery. Xu Feng Nian flicked his sleeve, catching both arrows in succession. He held them across his chest, snapping them inch by inch and tossing the pieces aside. He saw Jiang Heng, the Grand Commander of the Southern Inspection and reputed as Qing Cang’s top Master, draw his blade and stride down the steps toward him.
Xu Feng Nian turned to He Da Jie with a smile. “Is this how Qing Cang greets its guests?”
He Da Jie replied with a stern face. “Whether it’s a toast or a punishment depends on one’s skill.”
Xu Feng Nian smiled, dismounted, and Jiang Heng charged like an untethered wild horse, his momentum fierce. Yet, when he was still three zhang from the young Northern Liang king, an inexplicable scene unfolded. Jiang’s sword flashed brilliantly, both beautiful and deadly, clearly gaining the upper hand. Yet before he could strike the rough-clad guest, blood spurted from his body in streams, like a horse crashing into a halberd formation. Bystanders were bewildered, and Jiang himself was most perplexed, desperately halting his suicidal charge and attempting to retreat. Six wounds had pierced his body, and he had no idea whom to blame. Could this young man, whose hands were still in his sleeves, two chi from his dual blades, be a hidden weapons expert skilled in sleeve techniques?
Jiang had intended to earn some face for the Dragon Palace, giving Qing Cang leverage in negotiations with Northern Liang. Now, that hope was dashed. His priority was to stop the bleeding. But before he could retreat, his vision blurred and darkened. His life ended abruptly. Xu Feng Nian held Jiang’s dripping head in one hand and seized the collar of the headless corpse, hurling it upward with a crash into the watchtower where the archers had fired from, shattering the railing.
Behind him, General He Da Jie swallowed hard, naturally feeling sympathy for the fallen. Though he and Jiang had never gotten along, Jiang’s sudden death made him fear for his own life—he, after all, had not yet reached the minor master level. Xu Feng Nian tossed the head, which rolled to the foot of the steps. He smiled. “He refused the toast and insisted on the punishment.”
He Da Jie’s face darkened, and he silently dismounted.
Xu Feng Nian raised his voice slightly, walking forward. “Tell Cai Jun Chen to come out. I’ve already shown Qing Cang enough courtesy by entering the city. If you insist on refusing respect, Jiang Heng’s fate awaits.”
The fox-eyed queen raised her arm. More than two hundred armored guards poured from the palace gate, forming ranks at the foot of the steps. Archers appeared on the palace walls, and more than a dozen seasoned martial artists stood beside the queen. The Dragon Palace’s elite had gathered.
Xu Feng Nian surveyed the scene. The city gate had closed, and hundreds of armored soldiers were pouring in from outside. It was clear they had resolved to stage a grand “trap the dog inside the house” operation.
The queen pushed aside a cautious guard standing before her, glanced at the head at the foot of the steps, and smiled seductively. “Northern Liang King, is Qing Cang’s hospitality not generous enough? If you can endure more, I, a woman who admires heroes, would gladly serve you personally in your bath.”
Xu Feng Nian gestured, signaling the Dragon Palace to proceed.
The first wave of thirty-some armored soldiers charged. Xu Feng Nian folded his arms and stood still.
With a crash, the first circle of thirty-some heads flew high. The second wave followed, and their heads soared as well. These two groups were like rice stalks cut by a child’s blade, severed cleanly at the shoulders.
The queen, resembling a courtesan, was truly ruthless. No fear showed on her beautiful face as she ordered, “Continue the assault. Each officer shall draw their blade and supervise. Retreat shall be punished by death and the annihilation of one’s family. Today, whoever claims the first victory shall receive half of General Jiang Heng’s estate.”
Xu Feng Nian closed his eyes and focused.
After three waves of soldiers were beheaded, the attackers grew wiser, spreading out more thinly. Yet they still couldn’t escape death. Fortunately, the fallen were quickly replaced by more soldiers from within the palace. The square between the palace and city gates was still growing denser with armored men.
An old swordsman with a goatee approached the queen and whispered, “Your Majesty, this must be the rare flying sword technique of the martial world. If I’m not mistaken, it bears a striking resemblance to the sword arts of the Wu family’s sword tomb.”
The queen frowned. “Whether it’s flying swords or not, I only want to know when this slaughter will end!”
The swordsman glanced sideways at the queen’s ample cleavage, swallowed, and continued respectfully, “This young man’s internal cultivation isn’t particularly extraordinary compared to the superior flying sword techniques. I estimate that after two or three hundred men fall, he’ll reach his limit. Then, Your Majesty, let the external martial artists charge in recklessly, and victory should be ours.”
The queen scoffed. “External martial artists alone may not suffice. I believe you, Master Mao, must join the fray to ensure success.”
The short, thin old swordsman chuckled nervously. “Your Majesty speaks wisely. For the queen’s peace of mind, Mao Bi Shan will gladly face any danger.”
A tall, broad-shouldered swordsman crossed the palace threshold, standing beside the queen. Alongside Mao Bi Shan, he said solemnly, “Your Majesty, the Wu family’s flying sword technique, once mastered, requires little internal energy. As long as one’s mind commands it, the sword obeys. Continuing this slaughter is unwise.”
Mao Bi Shan sneered, “Oh, Gu Fei Qing, when did you become so familiar with the secret Wu family flying sword techniques? Could it be that you’ve hidden your true identity all these years? Perhaps you’re not a Gu at all, but a Wu? A secret son of a sword immortal from the sword tomb, like the Peach Blossom Sword God?”
Gu Fei Qing did not even glance at the old man, who had once been expelled from a Taoist mountain sect. Calmly, he said, “I merely relay the words of the palace’s Senior Guardian Tang.”
At the mention of Senior Guardian Tang, Mao Bi Shan immediately fell silent.
Cai Jun Chen’s rise to power was well known to be due to his queen, Yu Rou Rou, who had a talent for seduction. Over twenty years, Cai had risen from a rootless refugee, serving four warlords, each time gaining favor through Yu’s “diplomatic” skills. Each time, he grew strong and then betrayed his master. In the lawless refugee lands, there was a saying: “A thousand frosts and ten thousand snows, the pear blossom sword, four-time house slave, selling his wife.” Yet, with only Yu’s soft waist, Cai could not have reached his current status. Years ago, he met a benefactor named Tang, whose martial arts were profound and whose skills were vast. Without Tang’s intervention, Cai would have been killed by the former Qing Cang ruler, Ruan Shan Dong. This great protector was revered by the couple as the Senior Guardian and had not fought in recent years. Besides him, the Dragon Palace had two more guardians, whose martial prowess was unfathomable. Mao Bi Shan, already nearing the second-grade minor master level, felt fear whenever he saw the three guardians, whose ages varied greatly.
Xu Feng Nian opened his eyes, reached out, and seized a spear, his patience exhausted. He was ready to storm the palace.
In the refugee lands, killing alone could achieve nothing, but without the will to kill, one could achieve nothing at all.
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