As the date on the life-and-death contract drew near, the surveillance on the young clerk by Fu Lu Mountain grew increasingly stringent. Perhaps because Fan Xiaochai was never officially recognized as a disciple of Xian Guan Cave, she did not get involved in this murky affair. Even Lu Haiya was recalled. However, just as everyone on Fu Lu Mountain assumed the female menace had been abandoned, Mi Fengjie, the Master of Xian Guan Cave and the Keeper of the Sword Cave, boldly ascended the mountain. Though he brought no other masters besides his prized disciple Lu Haiya, no one let their guard down, for Mi Fengjie arrived “bearing swords” like an old horse carrying a heavy load—the sheer number of swords strapped to his back was staggering, no fewer than thirty, haphazardly bound together.
At that time, Xu Fengnian was squatting on the stone steps at the mountain gate with several mischievous youths, chatting about the colorful world beyond the mountains, in exchange for a few red-bellied pheasants they had caught. They were deep in discussion about the respective charms of courtesans from Liang and Ling provinces—who had the tighter cleavage, so impenetrable that not even a drop of water could slip through, whose rounded buttocks could hold the most objects. The half-dozen hot-blooded youths listened with astonishment, already mentally comparing the pretty girls and aunts they knew on the mountain. They began to get a rough idea, then exchanged secret smiles. These bandit youths harbored no great dislike for this official-looking man; his dirty jokes and tall tales were just like those of the elders on the mountain. Someone even urged him to settle down and become a bandit for good.
When Xu Fengnian saw Mi Fengjie, the old man, burdened with over forty swords and thus appearing hunched, was wiping sweat from his brow. He paused, adjusted the weight on his back, and pushed several slipping ancient swords back into place. The unremarkable old man exchanged a glance with Xu Fengnian, his cold gaze sweeping past briefly. Lu Haiya whispered something to his master, and only then did Mi Fengjie look at Xu Fengnian again—but only for a moment. Then he continued his slow ascent. The youths around Xu Fengnian were no strangers to this stern and unsmiling Sword Cave Keeper. The boldest among them even boasted about buying a few fine swords from Mi Fengjie. The old man ignored most of the youths from Fu Lu Mountain, but his gaze fell upon a sturdy boy squatting at the edge, who had not spoken a word the entire time. Without a word, Mi Fengjie pulled an ancient sword from his back—a rare one with a double hilt. If the pair were of unequal size, they would be “mother and child swords”; if similar in size, they were “mandarin duck swords.” He tossed the sword to the boy and continued climbing. The boy, unexpectedly gifted a sword, caught it, then dropped it as though it had burned his hands. He dared not even look at it. Every family had its rules, every mountain its discipline. The boy had never known his mother, and his father had died long ago in a battle with imperial troops. With no family to rely on, how could he dare to break the rules of Fu Lu Mountain?
Lu Haiya shook his head slightly. What a rare opportunity had been wasted by the boy! In Xian Guan Cave, where many practiced swordsmanship, how many had ever received a sword personally gifted by their master? The name Xian Guan Cave came from the master’s accidental discovery of an ancient swordsman’s burial ground on the mountain—an ancient tomb carved into the cliffs, each cave a coffin, each cave a grave, each skeleton a sword. After this great fortune, the once-wandering Mi Fengjie settled there permanently, declaring himself the Keeper of the Sword Cave, steadily advancing in the sword path. Except for his duel with Zhang Juxian long ago, no one had seen the master draw his sword since. He spent his days in retreat, meditating on the sword, and during brief appearances, merely offered verbal guidance to his juniors. Lu Haiya’s four senior apprentices had each been given a famous sword by their master, but he alone had received three. Still, compared to Fan Xiaochai, Lu Haiya was far behind. The master had even offered half the ancient swords of Xian Guan Cave just to have this girl call him “Master,” without even requiring the traditional three-kowtow initiation ceremony. Walking behind this aged swordsman, Lu Haiya sometimes wondered—if this Keeper of the Sword Cave were willing to leave the mountain, would he be the legendary sword immortal of the martial world? Would he be the supreme earthly immortal watching over all martial cultivators from the highest pinnacle?
Mi Fengjie furrowed his brows again, halting once more. He saw the mediocre Zhang Juxian descending the mountain to greet him, accompanied by the equally unworthy Wei Jin. Behind them came a full muster of elite warriors. Such a grand display—was Fu Lu Mountain planning to gang up on him? Mi Fengjie smiled faintly. Wasn’t he himself relying on the sheer number of swords to intimidate others? Let the masters of Fu Lu Mountain come as they pleased.
Recalling the past, when he first entered the martial world, he had visited Wudi City and happened upon Song Nianqing, a prodigy swordsman from Dongyue Sword Pond, carrying his sword to the city. Each move was a single strike—how Carefree (xiāosǎ, elegant and unrestrained)! Facing the invincible Wang Xianzhi, even in defeat, he had won honor. Since then, Mi Fengjie had resolved to walk the same sword path as Song Nianqing, to go even further than the great master. But Song Nianqing would never know—another swordsman from the same generation, far away in Beiliang, had spent decades looking up to him, chasing his shadow, yet never had the chance for a decisive battle.
Zhang Juxian, well-versed in talismans, looked grave. He slightly bowed to the Sword Cave Keeper and said in a low voice, “Master Mi, please don’t misunderstand. I’ve just received confirmed news—troops have already gathered outside Fu Lu Mountain. Unlike that time years ago when only a hundred or so patrolmen entered the mountain, this time it’s real armored soldiers, about ninety in number, with more than twenty elite scouts already inside, methodically scouting the terrain. Behind them are over four hundred patrolmen from Qing’an and Yanzhi prefectures.”
Mi Fengjie’s expression remained impassive as he calmly asked, “Only five hundred men? With a mountain this big, is Zhang worried there won’t be enough room to bury them?”
The Beacon Tower (fēngsuì, beacon towers) of Fu Lu Mountain were all constructed by Wei Jin, a former officer under Gu Jiantang. The old man said bitterly, “If it were a simple matter of fighting it out, killing until one side is wiped out, that would be a one-time deal. We wouldn’t be so worried. But now that both prefectures have gone so far as to borrow troops from a colonel and are willing to sacrifice four hundred lives to crush Fu Lu Mountain, if the initial attack fails, they might become furious. Even if the entire army is destroyed, the powerful officers in Youzhou might still set their sights on this fertile land. In that case, Fu Lu Mountain will be in turmoil, and your peaceful sanctuary will no longer be safe either.”
The Sword Cave Keeper’s lips curled with scorn.
Wei Jin did not show his anger at Mi Fengjie’s indifferent attitude, though he felt nothing but disdain for the man’s ignorance. Though Mi’s martial cultivation was unrivaled on Fu Lu Mountain, when it came to understanding the broader political landscape, Wei felt the frustration of trying to play music to a cow. Yet the situation was dire, and he had no choice but to patiently explain, “Master Mi, you and I both know the might of the Beiliang soldiers—they cannot be matched by a few minor masters. Even if Fu Lu Mountain sacrifices every last person to stop the next wave of a thousand armored soldiers from one of Youzhou’s officers, the Youzhou General Huangfu Ping will surely be alerted. It is said he is cunning and ruthless. For a position of power, he even handed his entire family over to the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion (wángfǔ, princely mansion), leaving only himself alive. That’s how he climbed to his current rank. Born into a martial aristocracy and wielding the military authority of an entire province, he is well-versed in suppressing martial sects. If such a serpent sets its sights on us, Fu Lu Mountain and Xian Guan Cave will suffer together. Master Mi, this is the time for us to unite against a common enemy!”
Mi Fengjie sneered, “If it’s a losing battle from the start, what good will an alliance do? We’ll just be throwing lives away. According to your Fu Lu Mountain’s logic, we should all flee while we still can.”
Wei Jin hesitated, then glanced at Zhang Juxian, who gave a slight nod. Only then did Wei speak, “I have a plan—but I don’t know if Master Mi is willing to hear it.”
The Sword Cave Keeper remained silent, staring coldly at the old man who liked to eat, sleep, and curse Beiliang. His expression clearly said, “Spit it out already.” Wei Jin sighed inwardly but continued, “Our stronghold isn’t as hidden as Xian Guan Cave. In this battle, we won’t trouble you, Master Mi. Fu Lu Mountain will face the five hundred imperial soldiers alone, staging a bloody clash that leaves both sides weakened. Then we will burn our stronghold to the ground, hoping that Xian Guan Cave will offer us refuge. Not only will our Mountain Master willingly submit to you, Master Mi, but all of Fu Lu Mountain will follow your command. If Youzhou continues its relentless pursuit, digging up the mountain inch by inch, and we have nowhere to run, then your hundred people in Xian Guan Cave may choose to stay or leave as you wish. But Fu Lu Mountain will remain, and fight to the death! If Youzhou’s army relaxes and no longer enters the mountain, Fu Lu Mountain will not break today’s agreement!”
Mi Fengjie, the Sword Cave Keeper, fell into thought.
Zhang Juxian, a mighty warlord who had ruled his mountain for many years, laughed freely, “Even if Master Mi doesn’t trust our verbal oaths, he should trust the forty swords behind me. At present, our two forces are evenly matched. After this battle, Fu Lu Mountain will be severely weakened—what strength will we have left to challenge Xian Guan Cave? The old saying goes, ‘One mountain cannot hold two tigers.’ Fu Lu Mountain should have done this long ago. Now the saying is fulfilled, only Zhang Juxian has suffered from bad luck, his martial cultivation pales in comparison to yours, and his fortune is far worse. I must admit defeat.”
Lu Haiya silently weighed the pros and cons. The schemes of the two old foxes, Zhang Juxian and Wei Jin, had no obvious flaws. At the root of it all was the overwhelming might of the Beiliang military, an insurmountable force for any martial sect. Moreover, in the latest ranking of the fifteen greatest martial artists in the world, the Beiliang King stood shockingly at sixth place, and his retainer Xu Yanbing ranked among the top five. Even the unranked cavalry commander Yuan Zuozong was among the top three in the Yang army. All of this formed the hidden backbone of Beiliang’s military morale. Even with confidence in his own martial skills, Lu Haiya had no hope of ever challenging these figures.
Suddenly, he heard his master’s calm voice, “Haiya, you will assist Master Zhang from now on. Consider it the hospitality of Xian Guan Cave welcoming honored guests.”
Lu Haiya nodded. The hospitality was just a pretense; the real purpose was for his apprentice to personally verify the situation. With his keen perception, Lu Haiya noticed Zhang Juxian and Wei Jin both visibly relieved, further confirming his suspicion—Fu Lu Mountain was truly in grave danger, forcing them to resort to such a desperate plan. Otherwise, who would willingly submit to another’s rule?
Mi Fengjie suddenly said, “Fan Xiaochai is a rare sword talent I deeply value. She is the disciple I must personally accept in my lifetime.”
Wei Jin smiled bitterly, “Since Master Mi has spoken thus, Xian Guan Cave has already shown its hospitality. This old man should also present a gift. At this moment, I hereby personally revoke the life-and-death contract. I am willing to surrender without a fight, and I will hand over the two weapons, Tong Xiu and Que Wei, returning them to their rightful owner.”
Wei Jin raised his hand and summoned two white-robed youths carrying boxes. He commanded sternly, “Take Tong Xiu and Que Wei to Miss Fan.”
The two youths exchanged glances, their eyes brimming with tears. Such legendary weapons, even just holding them for their master was a great joy. Once given away, it would likely be many years before they could even see or touch them again.
Wei Jin barked, “Go!”
The youths dared not disobey and quickly departed.
Zhang Juxian smiled and asked, “Master Mi, there is a matter I wish to ask—though I don’t know if it’s appropriate.”
Mi Fengjie chuckled, “Are all of Fu Lu Mountain so hesitant and pretentious? Since we’re now one family, naturally, there are no secrets between us.”
Zhang Juxian’s expression darkened for a moment before returning to normal. He spoke openly, “Fu Lu Mountain has captured a county clerk from Yanzhi Prefecture. It seems he is an old acquaintance of Miss Fan’s, and she favors him greatly, even going so far as to challenge Master Wei to a life-and-death duel…”
Mi Fengjie interrupted, his voice icy, “Fan Xiaochai is the granddaughter of General Fan of Northern Han. She has taken a liking to a sixth-rank official in Beiliang. What’s the fuss? When she tires of him, just kill him. With her extraordinary talent, how could she let romantic entanglements hinder her cultivation? Ridiculous!”
Zhang Juxian, somewhat disgruntled, said no more.
As the last rays of sunlight retreated higher into the sky, Xu Fengnian returned to the courtyard with two cages of red-bellied pheasants. Wang Shiwei had inadvertently revealed a weakness to Wang Xiashan. The seemingly innocent woman had clearly not taken it lightly. During this time, while Xu Fengnian was free to wander, Wang Shiwei was tightly confined within a courtyard, under constant surveillance by hidden guards. Especially after the news of the approaching imperial troops spread through Fu Lu Mountain, two experts with steady, long breaths were stationed inside the courtyard. This only made Wang Shiwei accept his fate. When Xu Fengnian entered the courtyard, Wang was sitting on the stone steps drinking heavily, exuding a bold aura. Influenced by him, Xu Fengnian sat beside him, set down the cages, took the wine gourd from his hand, and took a long swig of the fiery liquor. That evening’s dinner was particularly sumptuous—plenty of meat and fish. Wang Shiwei laughed heartily, having accepted his fate, saying, “It seems Fu Lu Mountain’s bandits are determined to kill anyone and everyone. This farewell meal, Master Xu, you’re sharing it thanks to me. That said, if you ever have the chance to leave the mountain, please tell my wife and child in Mati County, Qing’an Prefecture that Wang Shiwei died honorably. Brother Xu, especially tell my son Buyi that the destruction of Jinchishan bandits was thanks to his father’s great efforts.”
Wang Shiwei drank his wine calmly, “I only feel guilty toward them.”
Xu Fengnian nodded, saying nothing to console him.
The next morning, Fu Lu Mountain was in great commotion. Over 180 able-bodied bandits descended the mountain, fierce and determined.
Xu Fengnian and Wang Shiwei’s courtyard had been placed under house arrest. Wang sat in the hall, calmly gathering his energy, preparing to fight to the death when Fu Lu Mountain turned against them.
But Xu Fengnian had already left his body in spirit.
He quietly arrived at the dense forest of Fu Lu Mountain, standing on a hidden treetop of an intermediate peak, silently observing the unfolding battle.
Fan Xiaochai, having obtained Que Wei and Tong Xiu, was indeed no fool. She probably guessed that Xu Fengnian would “leave his body” to watch the battle. Thus, she sneaked into the back courtyard, standing behind a wall, just a thin barrier separating her from Xu Fengnian, who sat cross-legged on the bed. Her hands rested on the hilts of her sword and saber.
Xu Fengnian had gone on nine spiritual journeys, always guarded by Xu Yanbing, who never left his side for fear someone would take advantage of his absence. When most of his soul left the body and took form elsewhere, his physical strength was greatly reduced—a fact even earthly immortals could not change. Though never recorded in Taoist scriptures, Fan Xiaochai, having already entered the higher realms of martial cultivation and risen above the ranks of spies in the Fushui Society, was undoubtedly intelligent. This was the best time to kill Xu Fengnian, who ranked sixth in the world. She didn’t think she would ever get such a chance again. Therefore, without hesitation, she struck. With Tong Xiu and Que Wei in hand, she broke through the wall like a needle piercing paper, effortlessly. Her body followed, crashing through the wall. As dust swirled and she caught a faint glimpse of that back, Fan Xiaochai felt no great hatred—only a sense of liberation. From their first meeting on Fu Lu Mountain, she had not hated him greatly, but that didn’t mean she would put down her weapons and become a saint. After all, the Buddhist scriptures never said a woman could become a Buddha.
As Fan Xiaochai’s blade and saber reached within a foot of the back, her already ample energy surged higher.
The tip of Tong Xiu flared with a sudden burst of sword qi, its edge not yet there, but its aura had already arrived.
On the treetop, Xu Fengnian’s spirit smiled faintly, “Do you think Gao Shulu’s body is made of paper? Otherwise, would I dare to leave my body behind?”
Unbothered by the commotion in the courtyard below, Xu Fengnian gazed into the distance. At last, the killing had begun.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage