Four riders, who bore no quarrels nor stirred up trouble, came and went in the vast city of Dazhan like a single drop of water vanishing into a great abyss, leaving no ripple.
After finalizing matters with Zhang Xiucheng, Xu Fengnian soon departed from the tavern. Qing Zhuniang only spoke one sentence as she bid him farewell, saying that last time they parted, he had gifted her a word of parting; this time, she returned it. Xu Fengnian smiled and said he had accepted it.
Zhang Xiucheng stood at the window of the private chamber, gazing at the four riders fading into the distance without turning. The woman was slowly gathering the wine Kettle, cups, and the delicate plates of side dishes. Curious, he asked, “Qing Zhuniang, what was that word he gave you? May I ask?”
Qing Zhuniang smiled gracefully. “What is there not to say? Last time, he told me, ‘Stay alive.’ There is no greater truth in all the heavens.”
Zhang Xiucheng sighed, “The world is about to fall into chaos.”
Qing Zhuniang softly asked, “Then, who exactly is he? If you cannot say, then don’t.”
Zhang Xiucheng turned around, puzzled. “Truly, I cannot say. But considering how much we’ve talked, Qing Zhuniang, you still haven’t guessed?”
Qing Zhuniang’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I don’t even know what I was thinking back then. It feels like I can’t remember a single thing clearly now.”
Zhang Xiucheng hesitated for a moment, suppressing a smile. “Just consider him Xu Lang for now. Eventually, his true identity will come to light. By then, even if you flee back to the Northern Wilderness and cover your ears, it won’t help. From how he treated that servant girl, it’s clear—he may not be a saint, but he’s certainly not a villain.”
Qing Zhuniang shot him a glare, the way she often did at this Daoist priest who liked to mock himself for only being able to slay demons within ancient scrolls. Softly, she said, “Oh, he’s a villain, all right.”
Zhang Xiucheng, not understanding her meaning, had no desire to get further entangled in this mess, lest he end up offending both sides. Incidentally, after the great collapse of Shenzhou as seen through the eyes of the Spring and Autumn scholars, some ill-spoken literati had spread a particularly biting phrase far and wide: “When Xu Xiao looks in the mirror, inside and out, he’s no man at all.” When Zhang Xiucheng first settled in Ji Province, he hadn’t understood it at first, but later learned it was an insult aimed at the old King of Liang for having spilled too much blood—an evil spirit who had wandered into the land of the living. Other such sayings included, “The General walks with one high step and one low,” which was a blunt mockery of Xu Xiao’s limp. Then there was, “If the beam is crooked, the rafters will be too,” originally used to mock the hunchback of the Butcher of Men and his eldest son, Xu Fengnian, for being a spoiled, worthless good-for-nothing. But as Xu Fengnian’s reputation grew, such phrases faded from common use.
Zhang Xiucheng sighed. Unfortunately, he would never get to see with his own eyes that great general whose achievements shook the throne yet who lived to a peaceful old age. Shaking off these useless thoughts, he glanced at the sky outside the window. It was time for him to leave the city; the Big Boss was waiting for his report. Suddenly, he sat back down, motioned for Qing Zhuniang to return the cups, plates, and dishes, poured himself another cup of wine, and began to sip slowly.
She leaned against the window, silently watching the bustling, noisy streets of this foreign land.
※※※
After passing the Yan Ting Pass north of Dazhan City, Xu Fengnian and his four riders abandoned their horses to avoid complications, continuing on foot across mountains and through seldom-trodden paths heading north. Mi Fengjie and Fan Xiao chai were both impressed by the child. It wasn’t surprising for one so young to be quick-witted, but for him to possess such profound inner strength was utterly inexplicable. Of course, they could never have guessed that this shepherd boy, Yu Dilong, had inherited half of Wang Xianzhi’s legacy. During the journey through Ji Province, for six years, Feng Zong had always been able to precisely locate Xu Fengnian and relay news of the battles in Youzhou. As the four of them ran along the ridgeline high above a canyon, Xu Fengnian suddenly halted again, raising his arm to catch a magnificent Hai Dongqing falcon plummeting from the clouds. Mi Fengjie noticed that this time, the usually composed Prince of Beiliang seemed unusually grave, standing at the cliff’s edge, lost in thought. Yu Dilong plopped down on the ground, took off his sturdy leather boots, turned them upside down, and poured out the irritating gravel inside.
Unable to help himself, Mi Fengjie asked, “Is the battle at Hulu Pass going poorly?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “The first skirmish at Zaoma Stronghold, the casualties were actually within the expectations of Chu Lushan and Yan Wenluan. However, according to the intelligence I’ve received recently, there are some ‘unexpected’ developments beyond the battlefield that must be taken seriously. Yang Yuanzan himself is leading the vanguard straight toward Wogong City. Since ancient times, the northern nomadic tribes, who spend half their lives on horseback, have been skilled in mounted archery. Yet, in the early days of the Great Feng Dynasty, the empire still held absolute superiority over the Grasslands forces. You might find it hard to believe, but even in the late Feng era, without relying on strong fortifications or elite crossbows, the Feng army could still hold their own against Grasslands cavalry. The reversal of fortunes between the two sides only began within the last two hundred years. Countless rounds of illicit border trade, smuggling for profit, and repeated southern raids bringing back vast spoils allowed the Grasslands to accumulate a considerable number of craftsmen and iron tools. The migration of Spring and Autumn scholars northward during the Hongjia exodus further brought the Northern Wilderness a large population, deep Central Plains culture, and the subtle transformation of their concepts of warfare. Dong Zhuo’s private army emphasizing infantry, siegecraft, and auxiliary troops is one of the most obvious changes.”
Xu Fengnian squatted down, scooped up a handful of yellow earth, and gently clenched it in his palm. “The Northern Wilderness claims to have deployed three hundred thousand troops on the eastern front. If we went back thirty or forty years ago, during the early days of the Spring and Autumn Nine Kingdoms, we would have naively assumed that such a force of three hundred thousand was actually no more than a hundred thousand combat troops at most. Even adding in the civilian laborers transporting supplies and the auxiliary troops maintaining equipment, it still wouldn’t reach three hundred thousand. This bad habit of inflating numbers to bolster one’s courage before battle—Xu Xiao might not have been the first to resist it, but he was certainly the most Resolute and thorough general in opposing it. From the time he began attacking the various separatist forces of the Liyang Dynasty, he always stated his numbers honestly. If he had five thousand troops, he said five thousand. Later, there was a great joke. When he first attacked the Northern Han, the frontline generals there heard the intelligence that Xu Xiao had brought two hundred thousand troops. The defending general calculated with his fingers and thought, ‘Well, by the old rules, that’s no more than six or seven thousand, at most ten thousand. This battle is winnable; no need to retreat.’ In the end, when that Northern Han general was captured by Xu Xiao, he was still cursing him bitterly before his head was cut off for the banner. Xu Xiao was so angry he kicked out half the general’s teeth and shouted back, ‘I said two hundred thousand, and that’s exactly what it was! No tricks, no lies! How dare you call me a fraud, you bastard?!’”
Yu Dilong had been swinging his boots around, as if trying to catch some wind in them. But now he grew quiet, listening intently to his master’s words about that distant, unfamiliar thing called “war.”
Xu Fengnian clenched his fist, feeling the coolness of the earth seeping into his palm. “We won’t speak of the central Liangzhou and western Liu Zhou fronts. On the eastern Youzhou front, the thirty thousand troops include more than twenty thousand actual combatants. The remaining ten thousand auxiliary troops are nearly indistinguishable from combat troops. The Northern Wilderness has more cavalry than infantry, and Dong Zhuo has set strict rules for this campaign: during rapid advances, no tents are to be erected. Soldiers must sleep with their eyes closed on the ground, and the moment they open their eyes, they mount their horses for battle. The reason for having ten thousand auxiliary troops is mainly to counter the fortress system at Hulu Pass. Yang Yuanzan has assigned the task of capturing the Zaoma Stronghold cluster to various auxiliary units. Most of the commanders of these auxiliary troops are either descendants of the Spring and Autumn exiles or the exiles themselves, now in their forties or fifties. Meanwhile, Yang Yuanzan’s personal guards and Hong Jingyan’s Rouran Iron Cavalry, the main cavalry forces, will bypass the fortresses entirely, advancing straight toward Wogong City at full speed. Once the army reaches the city walls and the siege equipment arrives, the rear lines will have been cleared, and the civilian laborers from Longyao Province responsible for supplying provisions can safely march south without danger. In short, this battle is being fought in a very ‘Central Plains’ style.”
Fan Xiao chai said coldly, “If that’s the case, then those fortresses north of Wogong City are doomed to die. Why doesn’t Youzhou simply line up Wogong, Luanhe, and Xiaguang cities in a straight line at the northernmost point of Hulu Pass, keeping the Northern Wilderness army outside the pass? That way, there’d be no need to worry about the fortresses being gradually devoured by the enemy cavalry. In the end, you Beiliang people are just obsessed with your reputation for being the strongest in the world, and you don’t care about the lives of your soldiers!”
Mi Fengjie looked at the woman with the expression of someone staring at an idiot. For the first time, a smile appeared on the old man’s withered face—but it was certainly not a smile of kindness. It wasn’t that Mi Fengjie had suddenly found a flaw in Fan Xiao chai’s words. The thoughts of the Master of the Sunken Sword Grotto were simple: any Beiliang general who had bathed in blood on the battlefield, especially seasoned veterans like Yan Wenluan who had proven their military prowess during the Spring and Autumn Wars, would never be such fame-seeking fools.
Xu Fengnian did not mock Fan Xiao chai for speaking without knowing the burden of command, nor did he sneer at her for being a frog at the bottom of a well. Instead, he calmly tapped the edge of the canyon with the fist that held the earth and said, “Hulu Pass is not here. I have personally walked beyond the border, and I can roughly imagine how vast the entrance of Hulu Pass truly is. Moreover, there are precise rules for where to build cities along the mountains, where to block the passes, where to construct fortresses near rivers, and where to build watchtowers on dangerous terrain. There are also many complex variations and adaptations. Hulu Pass is the most naturally fortified and uniquely defensible stronghold in the Beiliang region. When you say that the soldiers in the fortresses must die, you are right. Once the enemy ‘invades in great numbers,’ these soldiers defending from advantageous positions will find that their advantage is insufficient for survival—they can only hold out to the death.”
Xu Fengnian clenched his fist. The wind and sand from the cliff blew into his face, tousling his hair at the temples. “Beiliang has only told Liyang that fifteen or sixteen thousand Northern Wilderness troops can be buried in Hulu Pass. Most people in Central Plains refuse to believe it. If we were to say that Yan Wenluan had always intended for the five thousand Youzhou defenders in the two hundred fortresses of Hulu Pass to all die there…”
Xu Fengnian paused slightly, his tone still calm, then smiled. “Perhaps Central Plains would hear of it and pretend not to. They might say, ‘Oh,’ and then say nothing more. They would continue drinking, admiring the snow, and engaging in idle conversation. Life is meant to be enjoyed to the fullest when one is at the height of success.”
Fan Xiao chai bit her lip but persisted. “One man willing to fight to the death, a hundred men willing, even a thousand men willing—but can all five thousand Youzhou border troops truly accept death willingly at Hulu Pass? Their parents gave them two legs—won’t they run away?”
Mi Fengjie finally had the chance to scold this woman who knew nothing but killing. He sneered, “You, the descendant of a top-ranking Northern Han noble, how could you possibly understand how Beiliang people think? The Great General took control of Beiliang only twenty years ago, yet the morale of the army remains strong. Besides, the border of Beiliang has never been peaceful for all these years. When it comes to soldiers going to war and fighting on the battlefield, Beiliang’s superiority is not merely due to its powerful horses and cold blades. Ultimately, it is the spirit that sustains them! Do you, Fan Xiao chai, understand that?!”
Xu Fengnian remained silent, a faint bitterness in his voice as he softly said, “Beiliang has always claimed to have three hundred thousand iron cavalry. Liyang’s curious onlookers have always wanted to know how many troops Xu Xiao actually left for me—how many cavalry and infantry, how many border troops and local garrisons.”
Yu Dilong softly asked, “Master, then how many are there really?”
Xu Fengnian showed a moment of absentmindedness. Turning his head, he smiled gently. “You guess?”
Yu Dilong shook his head.
Xu Fengnian looked again toward the northwest sky. There had once been an old man who, without realizing it, had grown old, and who loved to say, “You guess.” Xu Fengnian would always roll his eyes and retort, “Step on your grandfather’s head!” And the old man would smile and reply, “Exactly! Because it’s your father!”
Xu Fengnian gathered his thoughts and said gravely, “The Youzhou garrison at Hulu Pass is willing to die for the reasons Mi Fengjie mentioned, but there is a more important reason he did not state. Beiliang has less than two million households. Limited by its narrow territory, no matter how much it recovers, its population never reaches ten million. So I ask you a simple question: with only two million households, how can Beiliang have tens of thousands of soldiers? Isn’t every household represented in the army?!”
Yu Dilong asked softly, “Master, then how many are there really?”
Xu Fengnian showed a moment of absentmindedness. Turning his head, he smiled gently. “You guess?”
Yu Dilong shook his head.
Xu Fengnian looked again toward the northwest sky. There had once been an old man who, without realizing it, had grown old, and who loved to say, “You guess.” Xu Fengnian would always roll his eyes and retort, “Step on your grandfather’s head!” And the old man would smile and reply, “Exactly! Because it’s your father!”
Xu Fengnian gathered his thoughts and said gravely, “The Youzhou garrison at Hulu Pass is willing to die for the reasons Mi Fengjie mentioned, but there is a more important reason he did not state. Beiliang has less than two million households. Limited by its narrow territory, no matter how much it recovers, its population never reaches ten million. So I ask you a simple question: with only two million households, how can Beiliang have tens of thousands of soldiers? Isn’t every household represented in the army?!”
Xu Fengnian clenched his teeth. “Almost all the young men of Youzhou are in the local military. Behind every soldier stationed at the two hundred fortresses of Hulu Pass’s three cities, there is a home nearby. The more soldiers who die, the more their families may live another day! That’s how simple the truth is!”
Xu Fengnian slowly stood up and said, “Yan Wenluan, who commands the military affairs of Youzhou, established an unwritten rule. Even when Xu Xiao was alive, countless Youzhou officials fiercely criticized it. After I inherited his title, scholars like Huang Shang who came to Beiliang all demanded its abolition.”
Mi Fengjie did not know of this, but Fan Xiao chai, now a top spy of the Fu Shui Bureau, understood clearly.
“There is an iron law in the Youzhou border army: no matter who you are, if you retreat from the battlefield and it is confirmed, your entire family will be executed!”
“Yan Wenluan once told me personally, ‘I can give up my position as Commander of the Beiliang Infantry, even hand over the military authority of the Youzhou border to someone else. But before I die, no one—not even Xu Fengnian—can change this rule!’”
Xu Fengnian exhaled heavily, his eyes narrowing slightly as he murmured, “That is war. That is Beiliang.”
The mountain wind was fierce. Xu Fengnian stood at the cliff’s edge, somewhat distant from the others, appearing somewhat solitary.
Fan Xiao chai hesitated, then asked, “What’s next?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “Whatever can be done, we do. Coming to Ji Province, this journey, I have been doing the same thing all along.”
Mi Fengjie, who had sensed something earlier, carefully asked, “Prince, are you trying to return to the peak of martial cultivation?”
Xu Fengnian answered, “When the mountains and rivers seem to have no way forward, even if there is truly no path left, I must carve one out myself.”
Outside Dunhuang City stood a colossal stone Buddha, carved from a mountain itself.
Day after day, year after year, the great Buddha gazed upon the world with compassion.
In the main hall of Wudang Mountain stood the True Martial Emperor, sword in hand, standing for centuries.
Within the Temple of the Sages, the Supreme Sage, the Sublime Sage, and countless other venerable ancestors, though dead, still exuded their spiritual presence.
He softly recited, “Observing freely, observing freedom itself. No one exists without me. In this moment, where am I? Knowing where I am, I am naturally free. Tathagata, the Buddha of Thusness. There is a coming and a future. How did this life come to be? Having come, as if seeing the Buddha.”
The Daoists sat in forgetfulness to Enlightenment longevity. The Buddhists meditated to let go. The Confucians upheld benevolence, observed propriety, and pursued perseverance.
Xu Fengnian closed his eyes, stretched out his hand, and let the wind scatter the sand in his palm.
※※※
When Xu Fengnian finally arrived at Hengshui City, a middle-aged man in a plain Confucian robe came alone to greet him outside the city, speaking one sentence and presenting one object.
As Xu Fengnian rode away on horseback, the runner-up of the Yonghui sixth year exam bowed deeply in farewell.
“I left Jiangnan in the seventh year of Yonghui, carrying with me a bag of soil from my hometown. Fourteen years later, the soil has long since scattered and vanished, leaving only this old cloth bag. When I die, I beg that one day, the hooves of Beiliang’s horses may tread upon the heartland of the Northern Wilderness. At that time, please take a handful of soil from the Northern Wilderness and offer it in remembrance of Wei Jingtang!”
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