Chapter 759: The Northern Wolf (I)

On the opposite rooftop, two shadowy figures in black, their faces veiled, lay flat against the tiles, peeking out to observe the distant figure. They whispered to each other. One of them, unable to bear the heat, pulled off her veil, fanning her sweaty face, sticking out her tongue in discomfort, and frowned as she complained, “Sister, is that guy out of his mind? He’s been sitting there like a statue for nearly two hours! What if he ruins our plans? Should I just kick him off the roof?”

The other figure, whose face was completely hidden, shook her head and remained silent.

“Sister, that wine smells so good. Looks like there’s still more than half a pot left. I’m really craving it.”

After receiving a sharp glare from her companion, the talkative one muttered in a low, resentful tone, “That old pervert Dong in the inner city is really a spy planted by the Northern Wilderness, just like Master Song and Old Huang said. They risked their lives to lure him here. There are already many top martial experts waiting ahead to assassinate him. We’re just here for show, right? Do they really expect us to fight? Old Dong is one of the top three martial experts in the inner city. Even if he lost an arm and a leg escaping here, he could still kill us with a single finger. Dear sister, why go through all this? If I must die, at least let me be drunk on the Yellow Spring Road so I won’t fear the Ox-Head and Horse-Faced demons of the underworld!”

The other girl, truly angered by such ill-omened words, tore off her veil in frustration and snapped, “Why are you cursing yourself?! You little brat, do you have nothing better to do?!”

The troublemaker grinned and pointed a slender finger at the distant figure. The angry sister quickly silenced herself and turned her gaze. She felt a pang of sorrow. It was truly a misfortune to be caught up in this disaster, and it was unlikely they would see the next day’s sun. If she had the leisure to admire the moon, why choose this cursed inn’s rooftop to brood like a lovesick poet? That would truly be an unjust fate. She sighed softly. In this city, if every insignificant death warranted grief, even the hardest heart would have shattered long ago. She had seen far too many deaths to still feel much sorrow. She turned her back, lay silently on the cold tiles, and began to meditate.

The old rogue Dong in the inner city had indeed amassed great wealth in just over a decade—commanding five or six hundred elite cavalry. Most of the assassins known as the “Black Crows” in the city were his hounds. His true identity was that of a high-ranking spy from the Gusei Province of the Northern Wilderness. No wonder Master Song, usually a gentle old man, had been driven to such fury. Though Song despised the Xu family of Beiliang, he loathed the Northern Wilderness even more. Otherwise, he would have long since left the Western Regions and joined the migration into the Southern Court of the Northern Wilderness. As Liu Bo often joked, with Song’s martial prowess and reputation, had he gone to the Western Capital, he would surely have been granted the status of a prestigious B-class noble family.

Seven years ago, they were still innocent little girls. They only knew that Master Song had made a deal with Dong’s assassins, spending all his savings to hire them to kill a young aristocrat from the Xu family in a place called Qingliang Mountain in Beiliang. Master Song had gone along himself. But for some unknown reason, he had remained silent for years after returning. That was when the nickname “Drunkard Song of the Outer City” began to spread. Her younger sister always claimed that her love for wine and her tolerance for it came from being raised by Master Song’s stench of alcohol—not because she was a glutton.

This time, if it weren’t for Master Song’s insistence on challenging Dong’s formidable power in the inner city, even Master Liu and the others would not have wanted to break the peace they had painstakingly maintained for over a decade. Everyone knew that Dong’s assassins were true killers. There had once been a second-tier assassin from Dong’s ranks who spent half a year wearing down a top-ranked martial expert from the outer city with whom he had a personal vendetta, until the expert was nearly driven mad before his death. The methods Dong used to train his assassins were enough to chill the blood of anyone who merely heard whispers of them.

Tonight’s climax was triggered by the appearance of a young, ambitious man at Dong’s side. She had seen him from afar last year. Whether he was the one with the rare “double pupils” that Master Liu spoke of, she couldn’t be sure. But the young man had indeed seemed refined and elegant. Her own twin sister had often mentioned him, always with clenched teeth and a fierce glare, as if she wanted to devour him alive. But she and her sister shared a deep bond. She knew all too well the terrifying seed that had begun to sprout in her sister’s heart. After all, when has a woman ever spoken of a man without a glimmer of admiration in her eyes?

She suddenly opened her eyes, gripped the long, narrow blade at her waist, arched her back, and prepared to strike. Her sister was only half a beat behind, her hand already on her sword hilt. As children, they had been like twin dolls, indistinguishable even as they grew older—sometimes even fooling Master Liu. But their temperaments were completely different. She practiced the blade, her sister the sword. She was calm, her sister restless. Thus, though her sister had greater talent, their masters often said she was the better killer.

Master Song, ranked sixth among the outer city’s martial experts, and Master Huang, ranked twelfth, had both said the sisters were nearing the strength of a third-tier martial artist, with the potential to become second-tier “lesser grandmasters.” Though the city had no such terms as third-tier, second-tier, or grandmaster, the sisters had always taken such words as encouraging phrases meant for young disciples.

Suddenly, her eyes widened, and she nearly burst into tears.

A tall figure, his sleeves flaring like wings, came hurtling through the night sky like thunder, leaping over rooftops with arrogant speed. He paused briefly nearby, then with a single strike sent one of their most familiar elders crashing from the roof. Then he surged forward, his laughter booming like thunder in their ears, “Drunken Song and Limping Huang dare to assassinate me? I am the grandfather of three thousand assassins in the Western Regions! Tonight, I shall break my usual habits and kill openly, so you brats may learn what it means to strike a stone with an egg! Oh, and where are those so-called ‘Twin Beauties of the Western Regions’? Come forth! Let me show you what it means to be in one’s prime! As for enemies, once you’ve experienced my refined methods of training women, you’ll be begging me to be your husband within a month!”

As his raspy voice echoed through the night, they clearly felt the tremors of galloping cavalry from farther away. In their line of sight, over a hundred bat-like figures followed the old man’s charge.

She gripped her sword tightly, her face pale. Master Song had said tonight’s assassination would not alert Dong’s assassins or cavalry. Besides, the inner and outer cities had always maintained their own territories. For Dong to mobilize so heavily meant he had broken the rules. Did he not fear that tomorrow, the intertwined powers of the inner and outer cities would unite against him? To the outer city, Dong was a giant, but in the inner city, he wasn’t even the biggest fish. Everyone knew his power was less than that of the “Yama Sima” and “Cai Shen Li” families. In fact, a newly rising force in the inner city had already begun to replace Dong’s declining influence in the assassin trade.

The charging old man naturally saw the figure lying on the rooftop, feigning death. He laughed heartily. What a fool, waiting to be slaughtered!

He kept charging forward, his foot raised to stomp down on the clever fool’s head, ready to crush it into pulp.

The black-clad woman, knowing she was doomed, acted on some strange impulse—perhaps the same compassion that often earned her elders’ disapproval—and leaped over the ridge. She ran down the sloping roof just as Dong’s foot was about to land on the stranger’s head. She halted suddenly, grabbed the collar of the drunken young man—who had somehow fallen asleep—and yanked him backward. The tiles beneath him clattered loudly, a deafening sound in the still night.

As she finally stopped near the ridge, panting from exhaustion, she caught sight of the young man still clutching his wine pot. She almost wished to throw him to Dong himself.

Dong’s foot landed on empty air, but he didn’t grow angry. If he had truly wanted to kill the young man, could that little girl’s weak skills have possibly saved him? He was simply in a good mood, having finally cornered the “Twin Beauties of the Western Regions,” and wanted to play with them a while longer.

As many outsiders said, the city had strict rules. Even with the Northern Wilderness’ support, Dong was only one of the three major families in the inner city. The Sima family, descendants of the fallen Western Chu, and the Li family, led by a noble from the fallen Southern Tang, always kept Dong in check. But after tonight, when “Yama Sima” would truly meet Yama himself, the balance of power would shift from a three-way struggle to a two-way rivalry. As for Drunken Song and Limping Huang, they were merely pawns—decoys to distract the Sima family. He had worked for over a decade to achieve this outcome, but it was all thanks to that young man from the Northern Wilderness, whose background and martial prowess were beyond compare. No matter how dominant Dong had been in this city, he had no choice but to bow and serve under that young man. What could he do? Could he dig up his own father’s corpse to challenge that man’s legacy? Of course, if doing so could grant him the same power, Dong wouldn’t hesitate to unearth his father’s bones.

Living in this city for so long, he had long grown used to its heartless nature. Take, for example, the two young beauties before him. Though he couldn’t tell which was the elder and which the younger, he knew that one of them, along with her refined and scholarly Uncle Liu, had betrayed them all. Not that he blamed her. Who could resist the charm of a young noble whose father held a seat in the Northern Wilderness’ imperial court? And who wouldn’t be blinded by love, dreaming of flying together with their beloved? As for Liu, he was even less surprising. He had joined the Northern Wilderness’ secret network six years ago. Otherwise, would Dong have accepted him as an ally? Would he have shared so many courtesans and beauties with him in bed?

His gaze swept over them with lewd delight as he sneered, “Which one of you is Yan Yan? Oh, right, it’s the swallow’s ‘yan,’ not the goose’s ‘yan.’ Your beloved sent me to tell you he regrets his one-sided affection and dares not face you. So I’ll take care of you both instead.”

He cackled, “Well, the second half was my addition, but that’s essentially what your lover meant.”

The girl who had drawn her long blade slowly turned her head, staring at her younger sister, who had dropped her sword in shock. Yan Yan, the elder sister, was heartbroken beyond words. She could only choke out, “How could you be so foolish… so foolish…”

The old man reveled in this tragic scene, savoring it from head to toe, as if he had already claimed these two celestial maidens from the murals. Now that the outcome was decided, he wasn’t in a hurry to take them back to his opulent mansion in the inner city, a place fit for a king of Central Plains. At Dong’s age, his mastery of the bedroom arts was beyond comparison to any clumsy youth. He prided himself as a land-bound immortal in the boudoir—how many chaste women had begun by cursing him, only to end up begging for more, abandoning all shame to become his playthings?

Yan Yan stared blankly, then smiled. She shook her head gently, “Sister, no… Wang won’t betray me. He promised to marry me and find you the finest man in the world. He said he’d take us away from this city of death and killing, to see the small bridges and flowing streams of Jiangnan, the moonlight of Tai’an, the winds of Liangzhou, the tides of Guangling River, and the rising sun of the Eastern Sea’s Martial Emperor City… Sister, let me take you to him. He’ll agree, I know he will.”

Yan Yan, the elder sister, gave a bitter smile, her voice icy. “Yan Yan, you’ve truly gone mad. You’ve been mad ever since you laid eyes on him.”

Yan Yan screamed, her face twisted in fury, “No, I haven’t!”

Dong watched in delight, smacking his lips and grinning, “Yan Yan, Yan Yan… no need to rush. Dong Tieling has plenty of ways to make you both happy. Sisters, don’t struggle so. You’ll soon learn that there are pleasures even celestial immortals would envy. You’re not even twenty yet. I do love the young, but I don’t mind the mature either. While other men may not know the delights of a woman in her forties, I find them quite satisfying. You still have at least twenty more years of bliss ahead.”

At this moment of utmost despair and cruel delight, a voice—untimely, faintly amused, yet cold and clear—cut through the night.

“Are you Dong Tieling? Then do you know a woman named Xuan Yuan Qing Feng from the Central Plains? One day, she will come to the Western Regions to kill you.”

Dong Tieling was momentarily taken aback. Although the old man, a patriarch of assassins from the Western Regions, had secretly kept an eye on this young drunkard, after carefully scrutinizing him and probing his inner energy channels, he concluded that the man was merely a nobody without the strength to tie up even a chicken. Otherwise, how could such a young man be a first-rank martial expert? This mighty city of the Western Regions, after losing its title as the Protectorate General to the Western Regions, had a long history spanning over two hundred years. Countless figures had passed through, and monks from Landu Mountain had visited, but even among those who had lived here permanently, the number of true martial grandmasters could be counted on both hands. Now, such experts were even rarer still, with only one hidden in the inner city beside Li Caishen, a man whose wealth rivaled that of emperors. According to Dong Tieling’s speculation, this person was likely a high-ranking agent from Zhao Gou of the Liyang dynasty, who had concealed his identity to plot grand schemes in the Western Regions.

If not for this man’s instigation, the Li family would not have broken the rules and chosen to stand idly by, allowing that young Northern Man youth to assist Dong Tieling’s family against the Simas. Dong Tieling was not one of those passive Han Chinese exiles who, for various reasons, shut their doors and feigned deafness and blindness, nor was he like the ignorant commoners who had never left the Western Regions their entire lives. Naturally, he had heard of the famous purple-robed woman currently making waves in the Liyang martial world. As for why this young man had invoked the name of that genuine expert, Dong Tieling dismissed it as a childish ploy—a mere attempt to intimidate him, a bloodthirsty demon of the Western Regions. Though he was patient with the pair of Western beauties, he had no patience for the handsome drunkard who was about to die, and his killing intent surged as he sneered coldly, “What’s this? Are you close to the Central Plains’ League Leader? Young man, I’ll say this plainly—If you really are her lover, Xuan Yuan Qing Feng, I’ll treat you as my honored guest in the inner city…”

At this, the old man’s smile remained, but suddenly he roared like thunder, “Too bad you’re not!”

Dong Tieling was truly the third strongest expert in the inner city, a figure in the Western Regions regarded as invincible. His furious shout caused his sleeves to flare wildly, his martial aura spilling outward. To ordinary people, under such a “roar of a lion,” it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say their livers and gallbladders might rupture on the spot. The twin beauties, Yan Yan and Yan Yan, were shaken by the force, staggering back with surging blood. The younger sister, already in a daze, had blood seeping from her seven orifices, her face pale with terror. Yan Yan fared slightly better, managing to guard her spirit and still had the will to fight, though she struggled to keep her grip on her sword hilt.

Yet the young man, who had appeared from nowhere, remained seated exactly where Yan Yan had pulled him, as if nothing at all had happened.

Dong Tieling, a man who had survived countless deathmatches, immediately launched forward like a storm.

In a trance, Yan Yan once again grabbed the drunkard’s collar, thinking she might at least throw him off the roof first. Whether he would break his legs or be hunted down by Dong Tieling’s assassins was of little concern—better than watching helplessly as Dong Tieling crushed his skull with a single palm strike. But what followed defied her imagination. She failed to toss the man off the rooftop, and Dong Tieling, the godlike figure revered by the entire city, feigned a charge and then fled—vanishing in an instant.

Just like that, he ran away for no reason? Yan Yan’s eyes widened as she scanned the surroundings, confirming Dong Tieling’s disappearance, yet she still couldn’t believe it. Just as her younger sister, Yan Yan, couldn’t believe her lover would betray her.

Although Yan Yan had only witnessed the restrained sparring between “Grandpa Song” and “Master Huang,” even a real duel between masters, though not necessarily a back-and-forth battle of eight hundred rounds, should never be as cowardly as Dong Tieling’s mere roar followed by a hasty retreat.

Xu Fengnian, who had been watching silently with his wine gourd in hand, finally stood up and looked toward the younger sister, who was in a daze, asking, “Do you even know your lover’s full name, aside from the fact that he surnamed Wang?”

Yan Yan, now half-mad with grief, laughed bitterly, “Who do you think you are, to deserve knowing my Wang Lang’s full name?”

Without even moving, Xu Fengnian caused the beautiful young woman to spin in midair before crashing heavily onto the street outside, unconscious and silent.

Xu Fengnian turned to the older sister, Yan Yan, who still gripped her sword tightly, its tip pointed at herself. His expression was complex, filled with thoughts of the past. He recalled the tragic siblings Mu Rong Wuzhu and Mu Rong Tonghuang, the corruption of the snowy terrace at Huishan Mountain, and the wandering plight of Su Su, the heir of Xishu, and the old scholar Zhao Dingxiu. Sighing, Xu Fengnian glanced toward a rooftop about half a mile away. Dong Tieling, a local warlord of the Western Regions, had sensed the danger and withdrawn slightly, but he was not ready to give up. The old fox, with his sharp sense of peril, began issuing orders to his trusted men, likely planning to test the waters with nearly a hundred Dong family assassins on the rooftops and waves of elite cavalry arriving on the streets below.

As for this city—a strategic stronghold built by the Da Feng emperor to showcase border achievements—if not for Cao Wei’s cavalry, Xu Fengnian had little memory of it, except that in earlier years, many assassins sent to attack Qingliang Mountain had used this city as a temporary refuge. As for Xuan Yuan Qing Feng’s threat to hunt down Dong Tieling, the lustful villain, it wasn’t that Xu Fengnian had nothing better to say. Back then, that woman had not yet turned cold toward him and the Beiliang forces, and had indeed casually mentioned Dong Tieling. At the time, she still had requests to make of Xu Fengnian and had not yet become the League Leader. Probably even she herself couldn’t have believed that one day she would reach the Grand Heaven Elephant level.

His impression of this great city in the Western Regions had only become vivid after Cao Wei’s cavalry secretly deployed to the region. Especially after Liu Wenbao, a bitter old scholar from the Shangyin Academy who had been too ashamed to return home in his old age, entered the city. The Fusui Agency, previously only involved in minor skirmishes in the outer city, had begun to increase its infiltration. Through intelligence reports, Xu Fengnian learned of several hidden descendants of the Sui dynasty’s Yan clan. However, compared to Su Su, the last heir of Xishu, these three siblings were of much lesser royal blood. Even if the remnants of the fallen Sui dynasty wished to rise again, they probably wouldn’t dare to use those three children as a rallying point.

Though Cao Wei’s cavalry was not conspicuous in the vast Western Regions, Xu Fengnian and the Fusui Agency remained vigilant. To divert attention from the Western Regions, Xu Fengnian orchestrated a series of elaborate plans from afar. First, he had the female Bodhisattva, who had once left Xiangfan in white robes, publicly return to Landu Mountain. Then he had Liu Wenbao stir up trouble in the city. He even spread rumors across the Western Regions that Wang Xianzhi’s disciple intended to establish a new Martial Emperor City in the desert sands.

A vanguard assassin from the Dong family leapt across neighboring rooftops and slashed down without hesitation. Xu Fengnian had no intention of making a grand entrance here, nor did he wish to expose his strength, as he needed to remain in the city for an extended period. So he pretended to engage the assassin in a realistic fight. They exchanged blows dramatically, until finally, with great effort, he managed to kill the assassin with a single punch. The remaining Dong family assassins, though not as skilled as Dong Tieling, a second-tier master, saw an opportunity to kill and earn glory. Though their instincts told them it wasn’t that simple, they rushed forward one after another. Xu Fengnian accepted them all, killing each with suspenseful flair. Meanwhile, Dong family cavalry on the streets indiscriminately shot arrows at the two on the roof, but Xu Fengnian narrowly avoided each one, appearing to be in great danger. Watching from afar, Dong Tieling nearly choked on his own rage. He had seen many fake top experts before, but where had this cunning bastard come from, making it so obvious that he was just a “mediocre master”?

After forty or so men had died, the old man finally felt the sting of loss and decided not to overplay his hand, ruining the grand scheme orchestrated by the young Wang. Gritting his teeth, he gave the order, and the Dong family warriors, who had been unstoppable in the outer city that night, quickly withdrew. As he turned his back to the rooftop and leapt toward the inner city, a sudden chill ran down his spine. He could clearly feel the young drunkard’s gaze. Dong Tieling was certain now—if the man wasn’t already a first-tier expert among the younger generation of Liyang, he was very close.

Just as Dong Tieling thought he had escaped danger, someone suddenly appeared beside him, speaking in a perfectly natural Guse dialect, “Give your master a message—if he wants to keep playing, I, Tie Mudier, have a few new sword techniques I’ve just practiced in Beiliang.”

Dong Tieling dared not slow his pace, but fortunately, the figure vanished in the next moment.

Yan Yan felt a flash before her eyes, blinked, and the young man from the outer city, whom she had assumed was a drunkard drowning his sorrows, was still standing motionless before her.

Then she saw him raise his hand to his face, and in an instant, his face changed into a slightly stiff and rigid look, like a ghost wearing a human mask walking through the mortal world. As his fingers gently brushed across his face, he quickly transformed into a “living person.”

Yan Yan instinctively stepped back in fear.

Xu Fengnian had learned a few tricks during his time with Shu Xiu, though he was far from mastering the two levels of “rooting” and “vitality” that Shu Xiu had achieved. Still, it was enough to deceive ordinary people in the night.

Xu Fengnian didn’t mind revealing this harmless trick to the woman, though if her sister had been present, he would have been more cautious. Smiling gently at her terrified expression, he said softly, “Are you just going to leave your sister lying dead on the street? Since you two have nowhere safe to go for now, before the Dong family comes to identify me, you might as well carry her back to the rooftop. For the sake of the two times you risked your life to ‘save me,’ I’ll ensure both of your safety before dawn. As for what happens after sunrise—whether you stay in the city to await death or flee the city to escape—is your own decision.”

The woman cautiously examined Xu Fengnian’s shadow, confirming it wasn’t the wandering soul of a ghost, before finally relaxing. She leapt down from the rooftop, carried her sister back, and sat cross-legged, gently cradling her younger sibling. Finally, she couldn’t hold back her tears, biting her lip as her already delicate eyes welled with tears, overwhelmed by both betrayal and sorrow, as well as pity for her suffering kin.

Suddenly, she noticed the strange figure sitting not far from her, quietly sipping wine.

Then, on the street directly in front of the tavern, under the moonlight, a group of seven or eight riders appeared, their presence exuding an aura of deadly sharpness. They surrounded a young man in brocade robes and fur, like stars circling the moon.

Yan Yan’s fury flared, and she nearly leapt down to kill the devil who had cast her sister into hell. Compared to the face-changing “drunkard,” the man on the street seemed more like a demon wearing human skin!

Xu Fengnian said softly, “May I borrow your sword?”

Before Yan Yan could respond, her sister’s sword flew from its sheath into his hand. He rested it across his knees.

From two hundred paces away, the man on horseback halted, lifting his head to call out, “Tie Mudier, may I ask how the great Master Yuefu is faring?”

Xu Fengnian said nothing, merely tightening his grip on the sword hilt.

The man snorted coldly, turned his horse, and rode away.