A caravan of merchants entered the domain of Liuzhou, arriving at the Ma Zong Mountains, located midway between Liangzhou and Qing Cang City. The landscape stretched out before them, a vast expanse of ochre-colored desert hills, unsuitable for farming. The mountains rose in neat rows, aligned in a north-south Flying geese formation formation. Between the mountain passes, the wind howled and the sand flew like knives. The caravan, traveling westward from the east, was about to pass through this treacherous terrain.
Since the imperial court incorporated the original three provinces of Beiliang into its territory, leaving this area was considered crossing the frontier. In the past twenty years, many poets have traveled here, composing celebrated border ballads that have been recited throughout the realm. This time, the establishment of Liuzhou under the Beiliang Dao was followed by imperial decrees from the Liyang court about half a year later. Dozens of officials were promoted, with Yang Guangdou appointed as the governor of Liuzhou. Officials from the Central Plains had never heard of him, but they understood that this was the Zhao court reluctantly acknowledging the Xu family’s dominance in Beiliang.
The imperial edict from Tai’an City was almost simultaneous with news of the Northern Meng’s invasion. Immediately, some in the capital expressed schadenfreude, saying, “Let’s see how long Beiliang can continue its dominance.” As rumors of Northern Meng’s troop buildup on the western border were confirmed, it washed away much of the gloom from the defeats in the Guangling Campaign. Many believed that as long as the eastern front guarded by General Gu Jiantang remained unchallenged, Liyang would not have to fight on two fronts. Moreover, the conflict between Beiliang and Northern Meng was seen as a dogfight. If Northern Meng was a wild dog drooling over the fertile lands of the Central Plains, Beiliang was no better. To the Liyang court, it was always a guard dog that was too wild to be tamed.
As the Beiliang Dao gradually relaxed many of its restrictions on Liuzhou, not only could refugees return home to pay respects to their ancestors, but they could also enlist in the border garrisons. The old residents of the three former provinces could now smoothly enter Liuzhou, keenly seeking gold-making opportunities. This caravan winding through the Ma Zong Mountains was no exception. The caravan’s owner was a wealthy family from Linzhou, engaged in the trade of tea, horses, salt, and iron for generations. Their ancestors were warriors who had followed the “Butcher of Men” on countless campaigns. After the Xu family settled and rooted in Beiliang, an elderly general, who had died from old battle wounds, only reached the rank of a fourth-grade military officer. It was said that even the Prince of Beiliang had personally attended his funeral. Such an honor was rare in Beiliang, where families of generals were as numerous as cow hairs. With the passing of the old Prince Xu Xiao, this privilege became even more of a protective charm for the family. While other border businesses began to decline, theirs thrived, and they even extended their family branches into Liuzhou.
Among the nearly hundred members of the Fu family caravan were two outsiders, a master and apprentice. The caravan’s leaders, seasoned in navigating dangerous borderlands, were not particularly welcoming. However, they had heard that a high-ranking official from Linzhou, whom even the Fu family dared not provoke, had insisted that the young noble wanted to travel beyond the borders, leaving them no choice but to accept the pair into the caravan.
The Fu family, aside from the old patriarch’s painstakingly accumulated connections, had grown complacent in the next two generations, as they followed ancestral teachings to stay away from officialdom. They inevitably showed signs of decline, having to constantly watch their step and please others. The nominal leader of the Fu family caravan was Fu Zhensheng, the eldest grandson of the third branch, guided by two seasoned veterans familiar with the borderlands. Fu Zhensheng exuded a scholarly air, and rumors within the family said that the martial arts instructors praised his talent for combat, though no one had ever seen him in action. Even Zhao Jiabao and Feng Qianxiang, two old hands with sharp eyes honed by years in the martial world, couldn’t gauge his true abilities. According to martial world etiquette, it’s easier to underestimate than to recognize true skill, so Fu Zhensheng’s abilities were likely formidable.
The caravan paused briefly behind a Goose formation mountain to rest and avoid the sandstorm. Fu Zhensheng leaned against the mountain wall, carefully lifting a newly made goatskin water bag to take a sip of water that was unavoidably warm and smelly. The Fu family had a tradition where, on a young member’s first border journey, an elder woman in the family would sew the water bag, which was then handed over by a male elder. Even after drying and removing the smell, the new bag still carried an unpleasant odor when filled with water, a torment for the wealthy descendants. However, the Fu family’s simple and sturdy traditions meant their descendants were mostly resilient. After an initial period of discomfort, Fu Zhensheng had learned to drink without flinching.
He glanced at the master and apprentice standing in the distance. The master looked about his age, with a graceful and handsome appearance, the kind of man who should be the star of the pleasure quarters in Linzhou, yet he had come to the borderlands to endure hardship. The apprentice was an unremarkable child, yet since entering Liuzhou, he had adapted better than many Fu family members accustomed to the frontier. Fu Zhensheng, observing closely along the way, turned to the two elders and said, “Uncle Zhao, Uncle Feng, that Xu Qi doesn’t seem like a novice to the borderlands. Without our reminders, he always drinks the right amount of water, never gulping it down when thirsty. He is also adept in social interactions, unlike those naive aristocratic youths. Moreover, the Linzhou clans that our Fu family fears are not many, and I’ve never heard of anyone like him.”
Zhao Jiabao, who had been a guest in the Fu family for over twenty years, did not need to bow and scrape before the family head and was especially close to the third branch’s patriarch. Thus, he had been mentoring Fu Zhensheng like a younger family member throughout the journey. Hearing Fu Zhensheng’s seasoned words, he felt a deep sense of satisfaction, his aged face breaking into a sincere smile as he nodded and said, “That young man Xu Qi, though walking in the middle of the caravan and spared much of the wind and sand’s harshness, carries himself with an ease that cannot be feigned. His manner of riding and dismounting, eating and drinking, is as unpretentious as old men like me and Qianxiang who have long been used to the northwest winds. Logically, there is indeed something strange about him, and we must be cautious. It’s good that the young master is vigilant. Since the young master has brought it up, Qianxiang, you can reveal what you know.”
Feng Qianxiang, who carried a long sword on his back, smiled and said in a deep voice, “Young master, rest assured. Before this trip, the family head privately instructed me and Old Zhao that although Xu Qi’s origins are unclear, his identity is clean, and he is certainly not a villain. However, Old Zhao and I had our own motives, wanting to see if the young master could discern the oddities of this master and apprentice on your own, so we didn’t speak openly. Please don’t take offense, young master.”
“That’s only right,” Fu Zhensheng replied, having been raised in a family tradition vastly different from the usual martial clans, with a reserved nature. He slowly put away the goatskin bag, moistened his dry lips, and quipped self-deprecatingly, “Only after walking this path myself do I know the true taste of the northwest winds—it’s not very pleasant.”
Suddenly sighing, Fu Zhensheng said, “The new Liuzhou is a place surrounded by wolves. Previously, Chen Xiliang, a trusted aide of the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion, indeed seemed overly concerned with immediate gains and losses, refusing to abandon the city and resulting in the siege of Qing Cang by ten thousand bandits, which cost the lives of dozens of Bai Ma Yi Cong warriors. Such losses are rare in Beiliang’s long history of guarding the borders. I don’t know what kind of person the new governor Yang Guangdou is. If he follows in the footsteps of Chen Xiliang, a favorite of Qing Liang Mountain, our Fu family’s journey might be fraught with peril. Even if I die, it’s a small matter, but if it hinders the great cause of Beiliang, my grandfather, if still alive, would likely forbid this unworthy grandson from entering the family home.”
Zhao Jiabao was clearly not optimistic about the journey ahead, his face clouded with worry as he said, “Our Fu family has toiled for nearly twenty years for Beiliang, ostensibly engaged in border trade, but secretly searching for mines. Beiliang’s gold and iron mines are largely due to the Fu family’s efforts. This time, going to Liuzhou’s Feng Xiang area to confirm the quality and yield of the iron mine, I fear it might be precarious.”
Feng Qianxiang laughed and said, “Ultimately, we can only hope Beiliang wins this battle; otherwise, all the wealth I’ve accumulated over a lifetime will be for naught. If that happens, even if the Prince of Beiliang stands before me, I’ll point my finger at him and give him a piece of my mind.”
Zhao Jiabao laughed heartily, noticing the young master’s puzzled look, and explained, “As soon as the war was announced, many unscrupulous and cowardly Noble House in Linzhou began fleeing. But they couldn’t take their houses and farmland with them, so they had to sell cheaply. A good house that might not fetch more than two thousand taels of silver before now goes for eight hundred taels. Qianxiang took advantage of the chaos and bought four houses, even borrowing a thousand taels from me for the purchase. Oddly enough, the authorities turned a blind eye to all this. The rules requiring inquiries to neighbors and relatives were ignored, and anyone could get a contract and deed from the yamen, not just a white deed, but a genuine red deed. Fortunately, the Protectorate finally imposed a restriction at the last moment, prohibiting the export of more than one hundred taels of gold or one thousand taels of silver per person.”
Fu Zhensheng asked curiously, “Such a small amount of gold and silver, wouldn’t it be troublesome to send people back and forth across Beiliang? Even with a family fortune of only ten thousand taels of silver, with a limit of one hundred taels of gold and one thousand taels of silver, they would have to make fifty trips.”
Feng Qianxiang shook his head and laughed, “It’s actually quite simple. They don’t need to carry gold and silver out of the border. They buy antiques, calligraphy, and paintings instead, which are easy to transport. No one cares how much they take, and once outside Beiliang, they can easily exchange them for silver. Those destitute aristocrats skilled in appraisals have become honored guests in every household, making a fortune. Our Linzhou’s Fish Dragon Gang, which rose mysteriously, you’ve heard of them, right? Compared to their audacity, my actions are insignificant. They spent all their money buying land and houses, and no one knows where all that silver came from. Roughly calculated, just from what I know, the Fish Dragon Gang has already spent over 800,000 taels of silver on real estate, and the actual figure is likely double that. They’re becoming a major landowner with half of Linzhou under their control. The Courage of that female leader of the Fish Dragon Gang is something even this old man admires greatly. Young master, why don’t you marry her?”
Fu Zhensheng was not someone who couldn’t take a joke, but he still felt somewhat helpless and quipped, “A heroine as famous as the Lady in Purple from Hui Mountain, where would she ever look down on me?”
Zhao Jiabao exclaimed in surprise, noticing that the master and apprentice had disappeared under their very noses, and even the Fu family members near them had not noticed. Fu Zhensheng, bearing the heavy responsibilities of both Beiliang and his family, felt some resentment towards Xu Qi’s self-willed actions. He looked up at the sky and said, “Let’s wait for half an hour. If we can’t find them, we must set off. The journey between Qing Cang and Feng Xiang is truly difficult, and we cannot indulge them.”
Xu Fengnian, who had brought Yu Dilong into Liuzhou, circled around another Goose formation mountain wall and saw two unexpected acquaintances: Song Dongming of the Lu Ming Song Clan and his servant boy. They stared at each other in surprise. Song Dongming first looked puzzled, then burst into hearty laughter, “From the clear mountains and waters of Wudang to this desolate land, I can still meet this young master. If the young master doesn’t mind, I still have a little wine left in my bag, it’s Beiliang’s Green Ant, very strong. At first, it burns the throat, but soon after, it brings a refreshing coolness. I just started to appreciate its subtleties. I wish I had bought more. I regret not borrowing money to bring a few more bags of Green Ant with me.”
Xu Fengnian did not indulge in excessive politeness, took the wine bag, raised it slightly, took a small sip, and handed it back to Song Dongming. The latter smiled and asked, “Young master, won’t you have a few more sips? It’s alright.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head and smiled, “Xu Qi won’t deprive you of your pleasure.”
Seeing Xu Fengnian introduce himself, Song Dongming probably thought that a young noble from Beiliang with a northern accent would not know the Lu Ming Song Clan, so he said, “My name is Song Dongming, originally from the Lu Ming Prefecture in the south. Meeting the young master Xu twice, our fate must be quite significant…”
Before he could finish his sentence, Song Dongming was struck by a dry, withered needle grass carried by the wind. He reached out and grabbed the yellowed grass, which had detached from the earth after maturing and was now drifting like fluff. He sighed, “In a year, it withers twice, drifting with the long wind.”
The servant boy suddenly pointed his finger and shouted, “Master, look, is that smoke from a beacon fire?”
Following the servant boy’s finger, Song Dongming saw a thick column of smoke rising from the desert, likely from Qing Cang City, signaling safety to Liangzhou. They had not seen such a sight before entering Liuzhou, which was why his servant boy was so amazed. Song Dongming muttered to himself, “The ancient books say that the beacon smoke on the border is different from that in the Central Plains, named for burning wolf dung, the smoke is straight and very black, and the wind cannot tilt it. But looking at it now, this beacon smoke, aside from being thicker, is no different in color from that in the Central Plains.”
Xu Fengnian smiled lightly and said, “That might be a misconception by some border poets. In the northwest borderlands, burning wolf dung for smoke might occasionally be done, but that is only a last resort when there isn’t enough cow or sheep dung. Most of the time, they use locally available materials like poplar and willow wood as firewood, supplemented by easily flammable grasses like drought reeds. Moreover, the supply of materials for the beacon fires along the Beiliang border is strictly regulated. If the border patrol cavalry discovers that a beacon station’s reserves are insufficient, the officials responsible, all the way up to the fourth-grade officers, will be executed on the spot, and no one can plead for mercy. In the past twenty years in Beiliang, about three hundred people have died because of this ‘small matter.’ In the past four or five years, the numbers have been relatively lower, but this year, more than sixty border soldiers were executed at once for negligence.”
Song Dongming was startled, took a sip of Green Ant wine, and then said, “With the transition of two generations of feudal lords, the Beiliang border army is different from other feudal armies, with many stubborn and difficult-to-control veteran generals holding power. It should have been a time to seek stability and prevent chaos, so why is the approach so harsh? From this small matter, combined with previous rumors, there was once a secret execution of General Zhong Hongwu, the Great General of Huaihua, for a single disagreement. Was there no fear of causing a mutiny? Young master Xu, from your previous explanation about the origin of beacon smoke, it is clear that you are well-versed in military affairs. Could you enlighten me, Song Dongming?”
Xu Fengnian smiled and retorted, “A quarrel over a single word?”
Song Dongming was a man of great wisdom. Though initially cautious and testing, he knew better than to spout nonsense like an ignorant outsider. Composing himself, he said, “In Beiliang’s army, factions abound. With a new king ascending the throne, only by making an example through decisive action can one maintain control. Otherwise, before any war even begins, it will be difficult to command respect through military merit.”
Xu Fengnian, having heard such trite and overused rhetoric countless times before, lost interest in continuing the conversation. He intended to return to the Fu family caravan, for he needed to ensure their safe arrival at Qingcang City. There, elite riders would secretly escort them to Fengxiang, where a newly discovered mine lay. He wondered how the Fu family, who had long labored for the prosperity of Beiliang, would feel if they knew the Prince himself was personally overseeing their safety—would they feel their years of toil had finally been worth it? Yet, of course, Xu Fengnian had no intention of revealing the truth. Perhaps this was precisely the kind of subtlety that Xu Weixiong, who valued meticulous attention to detail, would disapprove of. As a ruler, one should not neglect the small gestures that win the hearts of others.
Noticing Xu Fengnian’s intention to take his leave, Song Dongming quickly sought to redeem himself. “Master Xu,” he said, “I’ve heard that your Beiliang Prince’s Mansion has two remarkably young advisors. Xu Beizhi, the grandson of the Northern Yan’s Northern Court Minister, has been appointed governor of Linzhou. This demonstrates the Prince’s trust in his men. And the promotion of the humble scholar Chen Xiliang shows that Beiliang values talent regardless of background, successfully attracting hidden gems from lowly families. May I be so bold as to say, if Beiliang were to become an independent nation, these two would surely become future chancellors. Yet throughout history, high-ranking officials have always risen from public service to private favor—first proving their abilities and merits in the imperial court, then earning the emperor’s personal trust. By this logic, it seems your Cool Mountain residence pays little heed to conventional etiquette.”
Xu Fengnian nodded, “Indeed, we do not follow the usual rules. But tell me, in your opinion, Song Master, what are the pros and cons of such unconventional promotions?”
Song Dongming smiled faintly, clearly entering his element. His entire demeanor became refined and eloquent as he continued, “In the short term, it is certainly a wise investment to spend a fortune to attract talent. It is especially effective in reassuring scholars who have come to Beiliang. If even Chen Xiliang, who suffered two major setbacks, was not punished by the Prince, then we, who have studied diligently and possess superior backgrounds, surely deserve high office.”
Xu Fengnian interrupted bluntly, “Song Master, how do you view Chen Xiliang’s defense of Qingcang? Do you believe the Prince was justified in punishing him or not?”
The young scribe had long been displeased with this Xu fellow. His master possessed unmatched insight and knowledge—on the Jiangnan road, even venerable aristocratic scholars in their seventies would listen attentively to his lectures. Yet this Xu Qi was clearly a brute from Beiliang, only pretending to be a scholar, with neither grace nor learning. Was his master not casting pearls before swine? As the scribe was about to scold the impolite man, Song Dongming cast him a subtle glance. The ever-disciplined scribe immediately fell silent. Song continued, “As for Chen Xiliang, a balance of reward and punishment is needed. His defense of the city may have seemed foolish, leading many in Beiliang to believe he was all ambition and no ability. But they fail to realize that Beiliang does not lack soldiers, swords, horses, or even silver—it lacks only one thing: the people’s hearts.”
Song Dongming gazed into the distance. “The people’s hearts are the foundation of harmony in the trinity of heaven, earth, and humanity. A nation’s true peril lies not in the natural defenses of mountains and rivers, but in the unity or division of its people. Geography is inanimate; the debate between heaven and man naturally falls upon the balance of timing and human harmony. Confucianism, Daoism, and Mohism each have their own views, and countless sages have debated without resolution. I dare not presume to judge, but a wise ruler who maintains moral integrity and accumulates virtue, turning misfortune into fortune, follows the human path to align with heaven’s way. Even if one cannot change the timing of heaven, at least one will not stray too far from the right course. If under the old Prince Xu Xiao, Beiliang’s army was already the strongest in the land with its thirty thousand cavalry, then under the new Prince Xu Fengnian, uniting the people’s hearts will make Beiliang’s million households into a force of warriors willing to fight and die. Even if the Northern Barbarians boast a hundred thousand archers, how could they ever threaten Beiliang?”
Song Dongming spoke softly, “Thus, Chen Xiliang has set a fine example for Beiliang. If we consider the three thousand refugees who survived within the city walls, their survival will spread word of the young prince’s benevolence. In Liuzhou, there will be thirty thousand, even more, who will come to know of his kindness—not the hollow rhetoric of a ruler who merely speaks of virtue, nor the false kindness of someone offering porridge at the city gates, but the genuine protection of Beiliang’s four provinces: Youliang, Liangzhou, Linzhou, and Liuzhou.”
The middle-aged scholar, lost in his own thoughts, grew solemn. “If Chen Xiliang had chosen to retreat, yes, he would have preserved the White Horse Righteous Cavalry within the city. But Li Yishan’s careful planning would have been in vain. Mercy and authority must go hand in hand. Li Yishan expelled the refugees, forbidding their return, and sent Beiliang soldiers to kill and train—this was authority first. If Chen Xiliang had abandoned Qingcang, then the hundreds of thousands of refugees, both inside and outside the city, would have watched closely. Did Xu Fengnian truly believe they would fight to the death for Beiliang? That would be a fool’s dream! Beiliang may believe that the shrewd Xu Beizhi surpasses the sentimental Chen Xiliang by far, but that is precisely the short-sighted view. To govern with virtue, like the North Star in the heavens, is to remain in one’s place while being surrounded by countless stars—this is true heavenly favor. Beiliang may have the loyalty of its army, but without the people’s hearts, even if all thirty thousand soldiers perish, the northwest gate of the empire will still fall. Thus, when the young Prince Xu Fengnian, still a prince at the time, declared on the imperial road in the capital that he would guard the empire’s borders for the Central Plains people against the Northern Barbarians, it was nothing but a foolish boast that made people laugh until they cried!”
The scribe, wide-eyed, could hardly believe his usually refined master could speak so bluntly.
Xu Fengnian silently nodded.
Yu Dilong crouched beside his master. Though he could not understand their conversation, he still found this slightly aged Jiangnan scholar’s words strangely compelling, more powerful than those of martial heroes.
Power.
As Yu Dilong stared at Song Dongming, he grew puzzled. Could reading a few books really give one such power? Was there truly such a wondrous thing in the world? Maybe he should ask his master later to let him learn to read?
After a moment of silence, Xu Fengnian smiled and asked, feigning ignorance, “Chancellor-in-waiting Cao Xiang is currently overseeing the nationwide official examinations outside the capital. Song Master, you are traveling through Beiliang now—surely you are not seeking a government post? With your wisdom and strategy, why not take office?”
The scribe snorted loudly, clearly thinking this foolish question was an insult to his master.
Song Dongming suddenly grew somber, his eyes briefly closing as a pained expression flickered across his face. Softly, he said, “To be honest, someone in the capital once asked me the same. I can only say that what was offered was not what I sought.”
Realizing his momentary lapse into sincerity, Song Dongming smiled lightly and said, “Master Xu, are you headed to Qingcang City?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head.
Yu Dilong glanced at his master without moving a muscle.
Song Dongming said, “Then I shall take my leave here.”
Xu Fengnian bowed and departed with Yu Dilong, returning to the Fu family caravan.
Suddenly, Xu Fengnian recalled a piece of intelligence from Beiliang. Song Dongming had long been noticed by Yuan Benxi. After passing the imperial examination, he married a woman of low status, a scandal that shocked even the young emperor. Though he had ranked second in the exam, just below the Top Scholar, and was nearly granted a royal marriage, he immediately married a woman of low birth upon returning home. His great success was matched only by his small misfortune—his marriage brought him no joy. Many lamented why such a brilliant man would refuse a match with a noble Zhao family woman. Later, Song Dongming became a widower, leaving no children. He never remarried, nor took concubines, wandering the land for years, devoted only to nature’s beauty. The intelligence report hinted that his wife’s death was no accident. The Song family of Luming was a powerful clan, and Song Dongming was once destined to become prime minister. Who dared commit such a crime? In all of Liyang, only a handful could.
Walking far away, Xu Fengnian could not help but look back.
He had once missed Lu Xu of Xiangfan City. This time, he would not let the chance slip away again.
Xu Fengnian whistled softly and slowly raised his arm. Soon, a majestic white falcon swooped down and perched upon it.
Meanwhile, Song Dongming and his scribe continued their arduous journey through the dusty winds of Mazi Mountain. The scribe, walking beside his master, adjusted the cloth mask over his mouth and shouted, “Master, this Xu Qi must come from a high-status family among the short-statured people of Beiliang, right?”
Song Dongming chuckled, “You speak more awkwardly than I do.”
The scribe grinned sheepishly and spat out the sand in his mouth. “Master, how long will we keep wandering like this before we go see that young prince? Didn’t you say Beiliang lacks a wise advisor to plan its future? And you have your Ten Reasons for Victory and Defeat in mind!”
Song Dongming replied calmly, “We’ll see how fate unfolds. Besides, whether Xu Fengnian is the wise ruler I seek remains to be seen.”
The scribe frowned. “Master, even if he can fulfill his ambitions, what will become of our Luming Song clan? That Yu family, with their heir Yu Luandao joining the Beiliang army, is a cautionary tale.”
Song Dongming shook his head. “The times have changed. With the revival of the Western Chu, if the court tries to suppress our Song clan, it will risk destabilizing the entire central plains, a costly mistake. Moreover, I have long been a piece in Taian City’s game, and wherever I fall, it matters little. Perhaps Master Yuan would even welcome it.”
The scribe sighed with old-fashioned weariness.
Song Dongming’s gaze remained firm ahead.
Master Yuan, you once said, “To gain, one must first give.” You forced me to make a choice. Yet Song Dongming knows this simple truth well—he simply refuses to trade your idea of a small sacrifice for the position of a high minister.
I, Song Dongming, have always been an impractical fool. Just as I do not know whether good people truly receive good fortune, yet I still choose to believe. Just as the world doubts that Xu Fengnian of Beiliang can guard the northwest, yet I still choose to believe.
As Song Dongming walked on, his eyes grew moist.
His lips trembled slightly.
He hummed softly, almost inaudibly, a small tune once often sung by the woman he had lost.
“East, west, south, north—north, south, east, west—
We only wish to stay together, never to part.
This life, the next—
Who can promise another meeting in the world to come?”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage