In the season of winter’s approach, beyond the frontiers the waters dried and the grass turned yellow, and any lingering greenery was especially welcome. Three men led their horses to a stop by a water source; three days’ ride directly north would bring them to the city of Wazhu (Wazhu). Xu Fengnian crouched down, scooped a handful of water, splashed it onto his face, and exhaled deeply.
Sui Xiegǔ, who knew nothing of military matters, asked casually, “Have these northern barbarians lost their minds? Why don’t they station their troops at the borderlands at the beginning of autumn? Historically, these nomadic tribes who live on horseback and follow water have always invaded the Central Plains in autumn to plunder the harvest. When winter comes, bitter cold and freezing winds make it impossible to gain anything at all.”
Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but chuckle. Tan Tai Pingjing explained calmly, “What you said applies only to usual circumstances. In fact, many of the greatest disasters brought upon the Central Plains by nomadic tribes historically occurred during winter. With rivers frozen solid, cavalry could cross freely without hindrance. At the end of the Great Feng Dynasty, the northern barbarians took advantage of this to invade the heartlands of the Central Plains.”
Xu Fengnian continued, “The relationship between the nomadic tribes of the grasslands and the agrarian dynasties of the Central Plains is like that of wolves and tigers. The initiative has always rested with the latter. Whenever the Central Plains dynasty shows signs of decline or transition—when it becomes a young, weak, or aging tiger—the northern barbarians become strongest. Thus, every time the Central Plains falls into internal chaos, the northern tribes seize the opportunity to invade and plunder. However, from the time of the Great Qin Dynasty to the present Liyang Dynasty, it has mostly been the Central Plains that have suppressed the northern tribes. Records from the height of the Great Feng Dynasty even stated, ‘Five barbarian soldiers equaled only one Feng soldier.’ Even when the northern tribes adopted many of the Great Qin’s military techniques, official histories still claimed, ‘Though the barbarians have mastered Qin methods, three of them still only equate to one Feng soldier.’ That means even after acquiring much of the Great Qin’s craftsmanship, the northern tribes still could not match the might of the Central Plains’ elite. But now, the Northern Desolate relies heavily on the influx of refugees from the Spring and Autumn Period. On the Central Plains side, how many armies dare to claim they can stand against the Northern Desolate in equal numbers without breaking ranks? Perhaps only the elite forces of Prince Guangling Zhao Yi and Prince Yanche Zhao Bing can do so.”
Sui Xiegǔ couldn’t help but ask, “Hasn’t the Liyang Dynasty already unified the Central Plains? Isn’t it supposed to be stronger than the Great Feng and nearly rivaling the Great Qin?”
Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, “If the current Emperor had not rushed to prove his brilliance to the world at the beginning of his reign, if he had instead focused on consolidating the strength of the Eight Spring States, then in this upcoming struggle between Liyang and the Northern Desolate, whether or not my Northern Liang had its thirty thousand armored soldiers would have been irrelevant. Even if we had participated, it would have been merely a flourish, not decisive.”
Sui Xiegǔ widened his eyes, “So did that Emperor Zhao lose his mind? Didn’t any of his advisors try to stop him?”
Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly, “At that time, the balance between Liyang and the Northern Desolate was roughly equal. Who dared to offer reckless advice? Moreover, deep in his heart, the Emperor Zhao wished to surpass the great generals of the Spring and Autumn Period, especially my father Xu Xiao and Gu Jiantang, through his own military achievements. In this world, are there truly clear lines between right and wrong? Take me, for instance—I am Xu Xiao’s son. In my eyes, my father is a king of unmatched virtue, possessing countless merits and no faults. But in the eyes of Crown Prince Zhao Zuan and the other princes, the current Emperor is surely the most diligent and benevolent ruler in Liyang history. Back then, Zhao Kai tried to ambush me in the Reed Marsh (Reed Marsh), and I went to intercept him at Iron Gate Pass. Neither of us was a villain; we were merely pawns, and worse, pawns already pushed across the river.”
Sui Xiegǔ sneered, “Oh, so now you fancy yourself the one making the moves on the chessboard?”
Xu Fengnian merely smiled at the old sword cultivator’s sarcasm. He stood up and gazed northward, where lay the military settlements of Wazhu, Xijing, and Jinchang Prefecture. Further north was the imperial court of the Northern Desolate.
Dressed in white robes of a cultivator, Tan Tai Pingjing suddenly spoke, “For the nomadic tribes, is a powerful and stable Central Plains dynasty not also a disaster? Once the ruler of such a dynasty favors military exploits on the frontier, and is surrounded by generals eager to ride into the desert, the situation becomes dire. The conflict between nomads and agrarian states will never cease, even if the Liyang Dynasty falls and emperors of different surnames rise and fall.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head, “It can be changed!”
Tan Tai Pingjing couldn’t believe her ears, “Changed?”
Xu Fengnian raised a single finger, pointing north, “Only if we can conquer this land and build several Great Qin-style straight roads across the Northern Desolate!”
Tan Tai Pingjing looked astonished, “Have you gone mad?”
Xu Fengnian narrowed his eyes, speaking softly, “I haven’t gone mad. If anyone was mad, it was the young Chief Minister who first took power. At the time, there was a heated debate over whether my father or Gu Jiantang should be stationed at the northwest frontier. On the surface, both Chief Ministers—father-in-law and son-in-law—strongly opposed my father becoming a regional king. But I only learned much later that someone in the opposition had convinced the retired but still influential old Chief Minister. That man was Zhang Julu. Though he had never served in the military, this civilian official harbored ambitions no general could imagine. The young Chief Minister planned to use Northern Liang as a forward base against the Northern Desolate, with its cavalry as the main force, to minimize Liyang’s losses and supply burdens. Under this premise, Zhang Julu allowed the court to tacitly approve of the Xu family’s controlled expansion into Xishu and Nanzhao.”
Xu Fengnian continued slowly, “In this unspoken understanding between the young Chief Minister and Northern Liang, many things were unavoidable. The Han family, known for their loyalty and valor, was too conservative and unwilling to serve as a stepping stone for the Xu family. If they compromised, the Han family’s status as a northern military pillar would vanish, and their generations of fighting against the northern tribes would fade into obscurity. At the time, when the Xu family arrived in Liang, the Han family head and my father, close friends, still shared wine and laughter. If I recall correctly, my first arranged marriage wasn’t with some later prince, but with a little girl from the Han family who still wore pigtails. She peeked from behind her father, showed half her face, and made a face at me.”
Xu Fengnian tucked his hands into his sleeves, “At first, things hadn’t completely broken down. The Han family made many efforts, but then Yuan Benxi intervened, dealing a heavy blow to Zhang Julu. By the time my father dispatched his cavalry to rescue the Han family’s sons, it was already too late.”
He looked up at the sky, “When I was young, I often dreamed of that little girl with pigtails, half her face covered in blood, crying and telling me it hurt.”
He added with self-mockery, “Back then, I feared dreaming of her. Later, when I wanted to dream of her again, I couldn’t.”
Xu Fengnian slightly bent his waist, as if bearing a heavy burden, or perhaps remembering someone.
“When I was young and foolish, I said many hurtful things. I once told Xu Xiao directly, ‘Being your son is the worst misfortune, for me and for my mother too.’”
“As I grew older, I realized Xu Xiao had done everything he could. Whatever he could give me, he did. He often spoke of how dashing he was in his youth, how many victories he won in battle, how much glory he enjoyed. Back then, I always lacked patience for these old tales. I’d get impatient and say, ‘Xu Xiao, heroes don’t boast of their past deeds. Can’t you stop prattling on?’”
“All the wise men of the world laughed at Xu Xiao, calling him a fool for serving the previous Emperor and building an empire, only to be treated like a thief by the Emperor’s son for twenty years. But everyone knew deep down that Xu Xiao would never rebel. If he had, the Central Plains would have already split into north and south long ago. But precisely because of that, Liyang kept pushing further. That’s why the Emperor sent Zhao Kai with a bottle to the Western Regions and had Chen Zhibao cut off Northern Liang’s retreat, forcing the Xu family’s thirty thousand cavalry to fight the Northern Desolate to the last man. The Emperor used this method to help his son ascend the throne. In Zhao Zuan’s court, there would be no Xu Xiao, a general too powerful to control, no Zhang Julu, a minister devoted to the people, no regional governors too powerful to manage, no feudal lords coveting the throne. Only a weakened Northern Desolate would remain, left for his son to complete the great feat that neither the Great Qin nor the Great Feng could achieve.”
“Xu Xiao once said that the current Emperor’s tolerance is far less than the previous one’s, but he is indeed a capable ruler.”
As he spoke, Xu Fengnian crouched again, grabbed a handful of yellow sand, and clenched it tightly.
Sui Xiegǔ sighed softly.
Tan Tai Pingjing suddenly turned, gazing into the distance. Dozens of riders were approaching, raising dust.
Their armor was stained with blood, their blades and bows battered.
Xu Fengnian stood. The riders, hoping to quickly replenish at this precious water source, spotted the three men and seemed to wrestle with a moral dilemma. Without water, they and their horses could not survive the pursuit of the enemy’s Black Fox scouts just a few miles away.
The leader raised his hand, charging toward the water. The exhausted fourteen riders dismounted, filling their water bags and letting their horses drink, all the while keeping wary eyes on Xu Fengnian’s trio. This area was deep within the Southern Dynasties’ territory, far from Northern Liang’s border. The chances of meeting allies here were as slim as encountering northern barbarians within Northern Liang itself. These fourteen riders were elite light cavalry, each strong and skilled in horsemanship, armed with the latest generation of Northern Liang sabers. They were clearly the best of Northern Liang’s border scouts. But they had clearly been ambushed by at least a hundred enemy riders. All were wounded. One horse staggered and collapsed at the water’s edge. The rider fought back tears, not looking at his fallen steed. Without a word, two comrades silently handed him a bow in better condition. The rider, now without a mount, could not possibly return to the border alive. He could not ride with a comrade either, for that would only kill another brother-in-arms. The rider adjusted his bow, patted the saber at his waist, smiled at the others, and turned to face the Black Fox scouts trailing them, determined to intercept their intelligence transmission.
At that moment, the leader, already mounted, saw the young nobleman with an unusual aura smiling, and said, “I’ll trade you three horses for a Northern Liang saber. How about it?”
The man, clearly a squad leader, hesitated, “You’re from Liang too?”
Xu Fengnian nodded, “A true native of Liangzhou.”
The leader spoke quickly, “Then I’ll lend you the saber, but I hope you’ll come find me at Fenglang Pass afterward. My name is Zhu Geng. This time, I and my brothers owe you our lives. Your horses are worth a thousand pieces of gold—no, even if we sold everything we had, we couldn’t afford them. I’ll never be able to repay this debt in my lifetime. I’m not one for flowery words, but I promise to kill thirty more northern scouts for you.”
Zhu Geng shouted at the rider who had obviously gone to his death, “Li Tingji, come back and ride with us to Fenglang Pass!”
Xu Fengnian handed Zhu Geng the reins to all three horses, saying as he did, “A full unit of Northern Liang scouts numbers fifty. Today, I owe you thirty-six lives.”
The fourteen riders bowed from their saddles. Zhu Geng reminded him, “Watch out, sir. No more than two miles behind us are sixty Black Fox scouts and three hundred Northern Desolate light cavalry.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. After the scouts had ridden off, he turned to Tan Tai Pingjing and Sui Xiegǔ, looking at the two wounded horses, and said, “Please, elders, take these two horses to Fenglang Pass and wait for me at the Protectorate.”
Sui Xiegǔ was about to speak, but Tan Tai Pingjing gave him a cold glance, forcing him to swallow his words.
Xu Fengnian gripped the borrowed Northern Liang saber in his right hand and slowly advanced.
His left hand, which had held the sand all this time, opened its fingers, letting the grains scatter into the wind.
He walked alone, slowly toward the three hundred riders.
Next spring, in some courtyard, the loquat trees would sprout new leaves and bloom again.
The spring after that would be the same. Whether he would live to see it, however, remained unknown.
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