Xu Fengnian sat alone on a small wooden stool.
Xiaolantuo Mountain belonged to the backyard of the “Yanwang Sima” family, one of the three prominent clans within the inner city. However, the Dong family launched a long-planned massacre, leaving barely half their numbers alive in a single night. Yet, like a centipede that remains active even in death, the Dong family met resistance when they attempted to corner the young wine-loving rooftop wanderer. Soon after, upon hearing that the monk Yangchi gifted his alms bowl to “Tiemudie’er,” the young swordsman who once conspired with the Grand Music Bureau to assassinate Yan Wenluan, appeared at the foot of the mountain in a thatched cottage. Wang Weixue, ever cautious, mistook him for a talisman sent by the old monk to protect the Sima family, and thus ordered the Dong assassins to cease their pursuit.
Xu Fengnian, leisurely seated on the stool, sensed the city’s quiet resilience. The Sima family was in a dire state, yet unlike typical clans in the Central Plains that would scatter at the first sign of trouble, the Simas still stationed over thirty loyal retainers near the cottage, their clothes and blades still stained with fresh blood. They escorted a similar number of women, children, and elders, likely all that remained of the Sima family’s pride. Clearly, they regarded Xu Fengnian as their savior. After the mysterious appearance and disappearance of the Six-Pearl Bodhisattva, the Sima family’s morale had risen once more. After all, in the Western Regions, any connection with Lantuo Mountain was rarely a bad omen.
Xu Fengnian idly watched the two hundred paces distant crowd, who in turn studied him, a mysterious guest of unknown origin. The children, wide-eyed, stared at him, their weapons heavy in their hands. Many bore tear-streaked faces. A slightly taller boy gently comforted a girl beside him. An adult man, wounded and bearing a bow and quiver, allowed a woman to help bandage his wounds. A nimble child fetched arrows from somewhere and carefully placed them into an elder’s quiver.
To prevent Dong assassins from striking under the cover of night, lanterns were hung high in the trees. The area was unusually bright.
In the spring night breeze, Xu Fengnian gazed at them, and the children gazed back at this man who had connections with the goddess of Lantuo Mountain.
Then, escorted by several inner-city experts whose martial prowess surpassed that of ordinary retainers, a woman approached Xu Fengnian. She carried a large horn bow on her back. Her figure was graceful, her waist slender, her legs long—her presence striking against the deadly weapon in the lantern light. Xu Fengnian slowly rose, thinking of himself as the guest of the monk Yangchi, who claimed to be the elder brother of the monk Longshu. Yet he clearly underestimated his own aura. As he began to rise, the three escorts froze momentarily, only continuing after seeing the woman still advancing. Before Xu Fengnian could fully stand, he noticed their tension and sat back down, hoping to appear less threatening. But his simple movement startled the already nervous group. A younger man stepped forward without a word, blocking the woman’s path, sword drawn, eyes locked on Xu Fengnian, ready to fight to the death at the slightest provocation. Xu Fengnian sighed inwardly—were they expecting him to stand or sit?
The woman whispered to her companions, then sent them to wait fifty paces away. She approached Xu Fengnian alone, smiling as she pointed to the seat once occupied by the Six-Pearl Bodhisattva. Xu Fengnian nodded. She removed her horn bow and sat, smiling. “Young master, please don’t mind. The Sima family has been on edge tonight. Oh, I forgot to ask—do you understand the common tongue of the Central Plains?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “I’m not from Northern Man, of course I understand Lady Chai’s speech.”
Not only this city, but the entire Western Regions knew that the head of the Sima family, known as the “King of Hell,” was Lady Chai. She kept her maiden name after marrying into the Sima family, and had managed the household for twenty years. Thus, among the three inner-city clans, some referred to the Sima family as the Chai family. From intelligence reports gathered by the Fushui Bureau, Xu Fengnian learned that Lady Chai was a refugee from the Eastern Yue, who had lost her family elders early and married into the Sima family when they were still struggling in the outer city. She had single-handedly elevated the Sima family to its current prestigious status, though the hardships she endured were unknown to Xu Fengnian, and of little interest.
She spoke directly. “Since you are not a Northern Man barbarian, I can speak plainly. If I offend, please do not take offense. If you can protect the 124 members of the Sima family, I will give you anything you ask for, as long as I am able.”
Xu Fengnian remained silent.
This woman, nearing forty yet more enchanting than any young maiden, had a determined gaze. “Perhaps you think the Sima family is no longer worth mentioning. But I can assure you, if we survive this crisis, if the Sima family’s name is not completely destroyed tonight, within half a year, I can raise two thousand men again.”
Then she suddenly looked pained. The young man was gazing into the distance, lost in thought at a moment critical to her family’s survival.
She had brought her family this far through sheer resilience. Her tone hardened. “Perhaps you are a passerby from the Central Plains, or even a top disciple from the most prestigious sect in Liyang, aspiring to reach the peak of martial cultivation, and care nothing for the rise and fall of a few families in the Western Regions. But I beg you, lend us your aid. The Sima family will be forever grateful. In the future, if you ever send a message to the Western Regions—whether it be the Southern Frontier, the Two Liao, or the capital of Liyang—if the Sima family is needed, I will personally lead our elite forces to your side, as long as I am alive. If I am gone, the next head of the Sima family will not refuse a single word. If I, Chai Dongdi, break this vow, may I never be reborn as a human!”
Xu Fengnian turned to look at her, his gaze distant.
Her eyes instantly turned cold, her tone hardening. “I said, whatever you want, I will give it!”
She had seen too many men look at her that way—once the nobles of the outer city, later the warlords of the inner city, like Dong Tieling of the Dong family, the Li Father and Son, and those arrogant martial artists who thought themselves champions.
She said expressionlessly, “But what you want, I will only give once.”
She was no longer the naive girl who believed in chivalry in the martial world.
Over the years, for the sake of the family, she had followed the rules of the Western Regions, doing many things beyond the bounds of morality—cruelty, bloodshed, filth, plots, schemes, traps.
But for herself, there was one thing she had always held onto. She thought that in a few more years, perhaps in ten at most, no one in the Western Regions would speak of her beauty or lust after her figure. Then she would have honored the memory of her husband, whose face had long faded into obscurity, leaving only a surname.
Xu Fengnian did not grow angry at the misunderstanding. He simply smiled. “Lady Chai, you’ve misunderstood. You just reminded me of someone very important.”
He turned his gaze northeast, softly. “I miss her. I’ve always missed her.”
She froze, watching the gentle expression on his profile. She could tell—this man’s longing was genuine.
Suddenly, she felt an inexplicable sadness and self-mockery. What he displayed was the rarest thing in the Western Regions. She, a woman who had ruled the Western Regions for twenty years amidst sand and bloodshed, had never known such a feeling.
Xu Fengnian turned back, smiling. “The person I’m waiting for hasn’t arrived yet. I do have some time to spare. Instead of sitting here idle, I might as well make a deal with you.”
Even she, so composed, couldn’t help but show delight. But the young man’s next words struck her like lightning. “Lady Chai, really—only once? Can we negotiate a little?”
Whether it was aura, arrogance, or presence, it was like a drum—once strong, then weak, then fading. Though Lady Chai was still angry, she no longer felt the same despair. Perhaps because she was still so alluring in her maturity, even her anger carried a unique charm, almost… coy?
Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, waving his hand. “Alright, no more jokes. I just thought your nerves were too tense. It’s harmful to your health. Lady, you’re an expert with the bow. You should know the importance of balance—tense and relaxed. Let’s get serious. To be honest, I have some hidden dealings in the inner city. The new force that has risen in the inner city in the past six months—perhaps you’ve already met the old Confucian scholar with a strong scholarly air. He is my man in the Western Regions.”
Lady Chai’s expression turned grave. Like many capable women, after the initial surprise, she returned to the practicalities of daily life. She asked softly, “They say that old man Liu either has a Beiliang background or is secretly working with the Li family’s expert from the Cai Shen clan. In fact, they’re both from the Zhao Gou of Liyang.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I can guarantee the Sima family’s continued existence as a major clan in the inner city, as long as you work with that old scholar. Not only can you survive under Dong’s nose, but you might even replace them. You need people—I can give you experts who rival those on the inner city’s elite list. Whatever you ask for, I will give. Iron armor, bows and arrows, spears—I can provide them all. As for my request, it’s simple. You must gather a cavalry force of no less than five thousand riders in this city. When they risk their lives for wealth and honor, you must make them believe it is not just empty words…”
Xu Fengnian paused for a long time before continuing. “Whether I live to see it or not, Lady Chai, that is not your concern. Go find that old scholar surnamed Liu. Tell him I told you his name is Liu Wenbao. He’s at the old locust tree in the Xiama Wei Posthouse. He will believe you, and will support all your actions. But let me make one thing clear. If you and the Sima family break your word, if you hide like turtles when the time comes to fight, or if someone offers you greater benefits later, remember this—I can take back everything I gave you tonight, whether I appear again or not, and more.”
Lady Chai smiled faintly, nodding. “Of course. To the great Prince of Beiliang, aside from the threat of the Northern Man’s hundred thousand troops, there is nothing else worth noting. Aside from the Emperor of Liyang and the Empress of Northern Man, there are no other great figures.”
Xu Fengnian was surprised. “You guessed?”
She was silent for a moment, then smiled. “Actually, that was just a wild guess. Your Highness must be easier to trick when you’re with an unimportant woman, right?”
Xu Fengnian did not deny it, smiling. “Holding a grudge like this isn’t good.”
Now it was Lady Chai’s turn to be stunned. “You really are the Prince of Beiliang?!”
Xu Fengnian teased. “What? Am I too easygoing to be a border lord with power? Or does sitting on a small stool chatting with you for half the night make me seem less like a martial expert?”
Lady Chai blinked. “They say the Prince is tall and graceful, extremely handsome. Many well-informed young women in the inner city are curious about you. Even a few in our Sima family once practiced swordsmanship, but after hearing you started with the saber, they foolishly switched to the saber too. They kept talking about your name until even my ears were sore.”
Xu Fengnian had no words, tapping his forehead with a finger, sighing. “Women!”
Lady Chai looked toward the survivors in the distance, speaking calmly. “There was a girl named Sima Bishui. She swore that if she ever mastered a supreme saber technique, she would go to Beiliang to find the man named Xu Fengnian. Even if she couldn’t be his wife, she would be his soulmate. Many laughed at her. She had no talent, but she kept practicing the saber.”
Xu Fengnian said softly. “And then she died.”
Lady Chai nodded, her voice calm. “Yes. She couldn’t kill, and refused to be dishonored. So she took her own life with a saber—cutting across her abdomen, not slitting her throat. Because if she died that way, even then, the men wouldn’t have let her rest. In the Western Regions, such innocent fools, especially women, rarely live long. Even if they survive, they don’t live happily.”
Xu Fengnian followed her gaze toward the crowd, now beginning to regain a little joy and laughter. He sighed. “One day, there will be peace in the world. Then the Western Regions will have the sound of books, children not thinking only of survival, but of studying hard and seeking fame. There will be willows swaying gently, lovers meeting at dusk, young people doing what they should. There will be rattan chairs, old men lying in them, basking in the sun, slowly recalling the proud deeds of their lives, the regrets, and then, at the end of their lives, they will peacefully pass on their unfinished wishes to their descendants…”
Lady Chai smiled faintly, shaking her head, as if unable to believe that one day this land, soaked in blood, would become a paradise.
But she instinctively reached up, gently brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.
Suddenly, her body stiffened. She gripped the horn bow beside her, sensing the faintest ripples in the air.
Far in the distance, a series of heavy, suppressed sounds echoed.
The three inner-city experts, ranked among the city’s elite, looked around in slight panic. They saw only a nearby scene—a large tree with lush branches, a body in tight black clothing falling from it. The tree bore three large lanterns, yet the Sima family’s lantern-hangers had failed to notice the assassin’s presence! But what truly chilled their blood was not the assassin’s death—it was the young man on the small stool, who looked so harmless, yet killed so silently. A master—undoubtedly a top-tier expert in the inner city, far surpassing Dong Tieling.
Lady Chai, being close and herself ranked just below Dong Tieling among the inner-city experts, barely sensed those subtle ripples.
She roughly understood that in the Liyang martial world, martial artists were ranked in nine levels, with the second level considered true mastery. In the Central Plains, there was even a title of “Lesser Grandmaster.” She had barely reached that second level, catching a glimpse of the grandeur within. She had always thought that if she could abandon family affairs and focus solely on martial cultivation, she could easily rise to the top three in the inner city, perhaps even rival the legendary first-level experts of the Liyang martial world. As for the previous rankings of ten experts, the recent rankings of fourteen, and the four Grandmasters, she had no real concept—she knew they were powerful, like distant mountains, their heights known but not truly understood. And now, this young man beside her, whose identity she still doubted, had slightly opened the door to that first-level realm for her. She suddenly understood—within this city, the so-called elite experts were no different from ants in the eyes of true martial grandmasters.
Even the children of the Sima family witnessed the strange sight—shadows bursting from distant darkness, rushing like thunder, fierce and menacing. They thought it was a Dong family assassin, perhaps even Dong Tieling himself, coming to kill. But soon, everyone was confused. The agile figure seemed not to be attacking, but fleeing—being chased by something unseen. He dodged and flipped, his steps chaotic, his movements desperate. Though no one fought him, he performed acrobatics—forward rolls, backward rolls, sideways flips—his once-majestic presence reduced to a clown in the children’s eyes. At about thirty paces from the cottage, he finally stopped to catch his breath. Lady Chai saw that the old man was none other than the revered “Heavenly Number” guardian of the Li family. His clothes were torn, as if sliced piece by piece, bloodied and tattered.
He glared at the young man on the stool, his voice hoarse. “Fine work with the sword cultivation of Deng Ta’a. Now I know who you are.”
Xu Fengnian looked at the old man, one of the elders of Zhao Gou. “You’re still alive because a colleague of yours in Qingcang City spoke a final word before his death. He died in your place. Leave. Remember to tell Li Fengmao—stop clashing with the Sima family. As for your schemes in the Western Regions, as long as they remain within bounds, I will pretend not to see.”
The thin old man roared, lunging forward, his foot kicking up a cloud of dust, creating a crater in an instant. But he stopped abruptly. Lady Chai narrowed her eyes, seeing a small sword, no more than an inch long, hovering just before the old man’s forehead.
The blade was emerald green, crystal clear—a beautiful little sword.
Lady Chai’s lips curved slightly, recalling a certain phrase.
Women, indeed.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage