At a post station three miles outside Changgeng City in Youzhou, a young man wrapped in thick furs to ward off the cold stood by the roadside, accompanied by a child who was flipping through a yellowed book, using saliva to turn the pages. The post roads of Beiliang were usually lined with locust and willow trees, but this road was different—it was lined exclusively with parasol trees, known for “knowing the leap month and autumn.” It was said there was a special reason behind this. In the past, when General Xu Xiao was enfeoffed as a prince and took up residence in the region, the wealthy elite of Changgeng City sought to flatter the ruthless warlord known as the “Butcher of Men.” Because the Young Prince’s name contained the character for “phoenix” (feng), and “the phoenix will only perch on the parasol tree,” they replaced nearly a thousand green locust trees with lush parasol trees. Unfortunately, the army took a detour and continued westward, and Xu Xiao never entered the city, leaving the wealthy elite in an awkward position. However, when the Young Prince inherited the title of Prince of Beiliang, Huangfu Ping, a trusted aide of the new Prince, was promoted to General of Youzhou and became the ruler of Changgeng City. The old men who had planted the parasol trees were delighted and frequently boasted to their descendants about their foresight. Moreover, Huangfu Ping indeed showed favor to the families of these old men, and a saying began circulating in Changgeng: “Flattery and brown-nosing—twenty years is never too late.”
Dust rose from the distant post road as the sound of galloping horses grew louder. The young man snapped out of his reverie. At the head of the approaching riders was a man clad in the rare purple official robes of Beiliang. It was a well-known saying that “a purple robe in the capital holds less power than a crimson robe in the provinces,” for the purple-robed officials of the capital wielded less authority than the crimson-robed governors who ruled over entire regions. As the high-ranking official dismounted and prepared to kneel, the young man smiled and waved him off, saying, “You’re in a hurry. Skip the formalities. Let’s talk in the carriage.”
The rider was none other than Huangfu Ping, General of Youzhou, and the only person he would kneel to was Xu Fengnian, the Prince of Beiliang. Inside the carriage, Yu Dilong, the young apprentice of Xu Fengnian, carefully put away his book and took up the reins as the driver. Mifengjie, the sword master carrying a long case, and Fan Xiao chai, the silent bodyguard with a Beiliang saber at her waist, flanked the carriage protectively. Xu Fengnian and Huangfu Ping sat opposite each other—Xu Fengnian with his legs casually crossed, and Huangfu Ping seated formally and rigidly. Huangfu Ping apologized, “I’ve kept the Prince waiting.”
Xu Fengnian said nothing, and Huangfu Ping knew that empty courtesies would only irritate the man before him. He quickly shifted to business: “According to the latest intelligence, all the Spiderweb operatives—Tigan, Buting Lang, and Zhuodie Shi—have been eliminated within Youzhou. Of the martial experts from the Northern Liang, only six remain unaccounted for. Two have been turned— one to lure out the remaining six, and the other to be sent back as a sleeper agent into Northern Liang.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. He had no intention of meddling in the details of operations, nor did he wish to interfere with the workings of the Fushui Bureau, which had been painstakingly built by Chu Lushan. He changed the subject: “How is Xu Yanbing doing?”
Huangfu Ping replied, “He is still in pursuit. Of the ten who ambushed Yan Wenyuan, one—Tieqi Erk’er—was killed on the spot, while the remaining eight fled northward. Six days ago, Woyila, the leader of the Tibilan Peaks, was sacrificed by the others and killed by Xu Yanbing at Fengqi Pass. Four days ago, the Northern Liang martial master Amah was slain thirty miles north of the Youzhou border, but he managed to delay Xu Yanbing. Fortunately, three days ago, a cultivator from the Nanhai Guanyin Sect discovered a clue, revealing that the six had turned back toward She Liu County in northwestern Youzhou, nearly escaping. Two days ago, two more Northern Liang experts fell to Xu Yanbing’s spear.”
Xu Fengnian chuckled softly: “So only Princess Tomb’s Xiao Nian Tou, Da Le Fu, the rumored lover of the Spiderweb’s Li Mibi, and Tömörtei, the one said to be the next Sword Immortal after Huang Qing, remain. Ten top martial experts acting in concert, with all their careful planning and schemes, ended up in such a pitiful state. I wonder if that old hag and Li Mibi ever expected this? Oh, and there’s a rumor that Tömörtei is quite young. The Northern Liang martial world calls him the Deng Tai’a of the grasslands. During his escape, his cultivation broke through rapidly, advancing to the Zhi Xuan realm and even displaying a hint of Sword Immortal prowess in his final strike at Fengqi Pass. Is that true?”
Huangfu Ping nodded: “Unlike other Northern Liang martial experts whose cultivation stagnates, Tömörtei’s martial prowess grows by the day. He gains strength with every life-threatening battle. According to reports, he is at most twenty-eight or twenty-nine, of average height, but with scales under his armpits resembling dragon scales. There are rumors that he possesses the aura of a true dragon.”
Huangfu Ping sneered: “Tömörtei’s ancestors were indeed rulers of the grasslands. The last remnants of the Da Feng Dynasty were squandered by his forebears. As for the claim that he has dragon scales under his arms, it’s likely the nonsense of those who love to exaggerate.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head: “It’s not that simple. If the Qi of Huang Qing’s death didn’t go to Yijie Liu, it must have gone to Tömörtei. Perhaps even the share of the Copper Man Ancestor went to him as well.”
Though Huangfu Ping was a martial artist by birth, he was precisely the one who hated the martial world the most, even to the point of loathing it.
Xu Fengnian suddenly laughed: “In the end, they all die. Who could have known that he would run into a half-step Martial Sage? It’s clear that Xu Yanbing’s cultivation is steadily rising. That ‘half-step’ of his is more terrifying than others breaking through multiple realms.”
Xu Fengnian leaned back against the carriage wall, his eyes narrowing: “The old martial world is about to vanish beneath the hooves of war. I wonder what the new martial world will look like. Before that, the Beiliang Fish Dragon Gang, the Huishan Great Snow Pavilion—both were fleeting glories.”
The Daode Sect, the Chess Sword Bureau, the Tibilan Peaks, and the Princess Tomb.
Wudang Mountain, Xu Yanbing, Sui Xiegu, Mifengjie, and the Wu Clan’s Hundred Riders and Hundred Swords.
Plus the Nanhai Guanyin Sect and the Lantuo Mountains of the Western Regions, already unable to extricate themselves.
How many more experts would die in Beiliang?
Huangfu Ping spat bitterly: “The Northern Liang barely mobilized over twenty thousand cavalry, yet the eighty fortresses and villages of the Jibei border all retreated inward. These arrogant drunkards, if they really want to give up Hengshui and Yinyao cities, why not just hand them over outright!”
Xu Fengnian said calmly: “Yinyao’s commander, Liu Yanlang, is famously a fence-sitter. The moment the capital stirs, he moves faster than any court official. With Yuan Tingshan in command of the Jibei border, it’s certain he’ll let the Northern Liang through. We shouldn’t hold out any hope.”
Huangfu Ping’s expression darkened: “If Liu Yanlang does abandon Yinyao, then Hengshui will be isolated beyond the pass. Worse still, the general in command of Hengshui, Wei Jingtang, is one of Prime Minister Zhang Julu’s few favored disciples who rose from the ranks of the military. He has always harbored deep hostility toward Beiliang. Now that Zhang Julu is dead, Wei Jingtang will struggle to protect himself, let alone defy the Ministry of War. He might even retreat more decisively than Liu Yanlang. If that happens, the Jibei border will be wide open. With the Gu Jian Tang’s Liaoxi forces remaining motionless, Youzhou’s Gourd Pass will face a pincer attack from both sides. Yu Luandao’s Youzhou cavalry will be in grave danger! The strategy of cutting off the Northern Liang’s eastern supply lines from outside the Gourd Pass will become nothing but empty talk.”
Xu Fengnian sneered: “No problem. If Liu Yanlang and Wei Jingtang refuse to defend the border, let Yu Luandao’s ten thousand Youzhou cavalry do it for them!”
High above, a magnificent bird suddenly tore through the clouds, diving steeply. Yu Dilong, temporarily serving as the driver, smiled brightly and raised his arm. The bird landed on his forearm, its talons digging in with great force. Fortunately, Yu Dilong’s Qi was robust—he was a freak of nature. This Hai Dongqing falcon, a six-year-old phoenix breed, came only from Liaodong. It had been personally trained by Chu Lushan and gifted to the Young Prince. Among the nine ranks of Liaodong tribute falcons, known as “nine deaths and one life, rare is the green,” the three-year-old dragon and autumn-yellow varieties were the rarest, but the six-year-old phoenix was even more precious. When Xu Fengnian first traveled the martial world, besides Old Huang and his stubborn horse, this six-year-old phoenix was his companion.
Yu Dilong called out joyfully, “Master!” Xu Fengnian pulled aside the curtain, took the falcon, affectionately stroked its head, untied the small scroll from its leg, and then gently flung his arm. The six-year-old phoenix soared into the sky, circling above its master before vanishing into the distance.
The message was simple: “Wei holds firm.”
The meaning was clear—Wei Jingtang would defend Hengshui to the death.
Xu Fengnian murmured, “Only in a storm can you recognize the strong grass.”
Delighted but puzzled, Huangfu Ping asked: “Why would Wei Jingtang risk his life to defend Hengshui? Could it be the work of General Chu?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head: “No matter how skilled the Fushui Bureau is, they can’t sway a scholar like Wei Jingtang.”
After a moment’s thought, he added: “Perhaps the death of his mentor, Zhang Julu, finally made him decide.”
Huangfu Ping was still furious: “What a pity—only one such man in all of Jizhou.”
Xu Fengnian said expressionlessly: “Why not say only one Zhang Julu in all of Liyang?”
After a brief silence, Xu Fengnian smiled: “Looks like you’ll have to go to Youzhou alone. I’m heading to Jibei to meet Yu Luandao and take a look at this Wei Jingtang.”
Huangfu Ping’s heart pounded. Shocked, he asked: “Your Highness, are you planning to personally lead troops to the Gourd Pass?”
Before Xu Fengnian could answer, Huangfu Ping leapt from the carriage, dashed ahead on the post road, and knelt with a loud thud, saying nothing.
Yu Dilong quickly halted the carriage. Xu Fengnian stepped out and walked over to help the kneeling general, but Huangfu Ping, once mocked by the Lanzhou officials as the “top watchdog of Qingliang Mountain,” refused to rise.
Xu Fengnian’s voice grew cold: “Stand up!”
Huangfu Ping knelt on the road, his voice low and hoarse: “If I don’t stop you today, tomorrow I’ll be beaten and cursed to death by General Chu, Commander Yan, and the Second Young Master. A Beiliang Prince who dies bravely in battle, killing thousands, is not worth more than a Beiliang Prince who lives!”
Xu Fengnian frowned: “You don’t need to remind me. I know the stakes better than anyone. Don’t worry, I’ll take Mifengjie and Fan Xiao chai with me. Besides, though my cultivation isn’t what it was, I can still escape if needed. The top martial experts of the Northern Liang are few now.”
Huangfu Ping was clearly determined to dig in his heels. He looked up at Xu Fengnian and pressed: “What if Tuoba Busha himself intercepts you, Your Highness?!”
Xu Fengnian sighed helplessly: “Tuoba is on his way to Liuzhou under imperial orders. Besides, have you forgotten that Xu Yanbing is about to finish things at the Youzhou border?”
Seeing that Huangfu Ping still refused to rise, Xu Fengnian kicked him lightly, half-annoyed, half-amused: “Huangfu Ping, your act of dying to stop me is far from the mark of the eunuchs in Tai’an. Get up.”
Huangfu Ping slowly rose, hesitated, then murmured: “Your Highness, let me speak a word of treasonous sincerity—You cannot die. If you die, I will never become the Gu Jiantang of Beiliang.”
Though Huangfu Ping’s words came from the heart, Xu Fengnian merely glanced at him and smiled, then mounted a horse with Yu Dilong, Mifengjie, and Fan Xiao chai, the four riding eastward.
Huangfu Ping did not wipe the sweat from his brow.
Both understood—what Huangfu Ping truly meant was not “the Gu Jiantang of Beiliang,” but “the Xu Xiao of Liyang.”
One day, he would rise and be enfeoffed as a prince.
Huangfu Ping didn’t mind if Xu Fengnian knew of his ambition.
The four riders galloped eastward on the post road.
Yu Dilong, now an expert horseman, glanced back at the retreating figures and said: “Master, what was that saying about the Youzhou General—something about oil and a lamp?”
Xu Fengnian laughed: “You mean ‘no ordinary lamp’? Who taught you that—your junior apprentice sister Wang Sheng or your junior apprentice brother Lü Yunchang?”
The boy grinned.
Xu Fengnian teased: “Miss Wang Sheng already? Then why didn’t you go to Northern Liang with her?”
The boy quickly straightened his face and said solemnly: “She and the White Fox went to Northern Liang to refine her martial arts. I couldn’t hold her back. She even said that when she returns to Qingliang Mountain, she’ll be able to beat both me and Lü Yunchang together.”
Xu Fengnian said meaningfully: “You’ve already lost half.”
Yu Dilong blinked: “So my senior sister really will master the strongest sword techniques in Northern Liang?”
Then he couldn’t help but laugh to himself.
Xu Fengnian shook his head.
Mifengjie, who rarely spoke, said with concern: “Jizhou is not Beiliang. There are many hidden Zhao Gou spies. Your Highness should be cautious.”
Xu Fengnian nodded.
Mifengjie subtly glanced at the female assassin, Fan Xiao chai.
The Zhi Xuan master didn’t understand why Xu Fengnian insisted on bringing her along.
Mifengjie resolved to keep a close eye on her.
Fan Xiao chai, expressionless, stared ahead.
Jizhou had once belonged to the Northern Han.
Indeed, it wasn’t just the Han family of Jizhou— the Northern Han had lasted over 160 years, and many noble families had once served it. The Fan family, in particular, had generations of loyal and distinguished service.
Xu Fengnian suddenly said: “This time, you can pay respects to your ancestors’ graves on the way. There may not be another chance. If you decide to stay in Jizhou in the end, I’ll let you know now—I won’t ask for an answer yet. We’ll talk about it when we get there.”
Fan Xiao chai bit her lip until blood seeped out, her eyes wild. She laughed: “I have no face to offer wine at my ancestors’ graves. Since I can’t kill you, and I can’t even bring myself to strike, I’ll just watch you die on the battlefield.”
Mifengjie’s sword vibrated violently in its case. He roared: “Fan Xiao chai! Are you seeking death?!”
Fan Xiao chai’s shoulders trembled slightly. Her laughter grew louder as she sat high on her horse, her expression one of disdain: “Tsk, tsk. A Zhi Xuan master—I’m so scared.”
Xu Fengnian said calmly: “Enough.”
Mifengjie took a deep breath. Fan Xiao chai also quickly suppressed her manic demeanor.
Their horses suddenly stumbled slightly.
The child, Yu Dilong, who had been ignored, glanced at the old man adjusting the sword case and then at the young woman whose fingers gripped the reins tightly. The eldest apprentice of Xu Fengnian quietly pursed his lips.
Xu Fengnian closed his eyes.
He knew that many had already begun to die at the Gourd Pass of Youzhou.
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