At the break of dawn, when the sky was still dark, Xu Fengnian had already set off from the city. Madam Song personally saw him off, and the two parted ways outside the city gates. Lanterns hung high on the city walls, illuminating the scene as bright as day. It was then that Xu Fengnian noticed Madam Song, who usually dressed elegantly and wore no makeup, had donned a wide-sleeved robe with red fabric and yellow floral patterns. She seemed to have applied a touch of powder, sitting tall on her horse, her embroidered skirt cascading down. Under the lantern light, she looked especially enchanting.
Along the way, they had already discussed the various matters that the Snow Lotus Tower needed to attend to, with the most crucial being the delicate dance with the fickle Liu Huaixi. Both Northern Liang and Western Shu’s intelligence networks would use him as bait. Xu Fengnian wore the broken old-style Liang saber at his waist and carried an inconspicuous cotton travel bag containing a few changes of clothes and some valuables.
At the moment of parting, Madam Song—ever the extraordinary woman who once penned the line *”Holding a blade, standing alone, surveying the vast lands; piercing the night sky with radiant light”*—showed no hesitation. With a smile, she clasped her fists and said, *”Though I could accompany you a thousand miles, all farewells must come. Take care, my lord!”*
Xu Fengnian nodded and reminded her, *”As I’ve said before, the Snow Lotus Tower is just the Snow Lotus Tower. There’s no need to involve yourself in bloodshed unless absolutely necessary. Three-legged toads are hard to find, but men eager to play the hero? Plenty of those.”*
Madam Song grinned. *”Oh? I always thought men had three legs too.”*
Xu Fengnian chuckled but quickly turned serious. *”Don’t think I’m being overly cautious. If Northern Liang and Western Shu remain at peace, fine. But the moment Chen Zhibao shifts his focus back from the Central Plains, it’ll be a fight to the death. By then, not just your Snow Lotus Tower, but all Fushui Fang outposts in Western Shu and Southern Zhao will be uprooted overnight. You know Chen Zhibao’s methods—no need for me to elaborate. That’s why I’ve already instructed Chu Lushan to arrange an escape route for you. Every one of you is a priceless treasure to Northern Liang.”*
Madam Song’s gaze was calm and serene. *”An old ox dies exhausted under the blade—isn’t that just how it should be?”*
Xu Fengnian unhooked the broken Liang saber from his waist and tossed it to her. *”A Liang blade only kills outsiders.”*
As Xu Fengnian rode away alone, Madam Song gripped the saber, raising her hand slowly—and refusing to lower it.
The ancient, battle-worn blade and her slender, delicate arm formed a striking, almost haunting contrast.
The towering Meng Li appeared silently in the shadows near the city gate, his expression complex and somber. This taciturn man had voluntarily exiled himself to Snow Lotus City twelve years ago, working diligently to help Song Huanghuang achieve the impossible—two eight-story Mandarin Duck Towers that stood unrivaled even in the prosperous lands of Western Shu. Over a decade of life-and-death struggles, bandaging his wounds alone after each battle, watching that distant figure—always visible, never within reach, forever unattainable. Leaning against the city wall, his face darkened with turmoil. To a man like him, who lived by the blade, Madam Song was like a bewitching crabapple blossom in a silver vase. He was content to admire it from afar, watching it wither slowly. But if anyone dared pluck it—no matter who they were—Meng Li’s heart would twist in agony.
At some point, Madam Song fastened the saber to her waist and rode to the base of the city wall. Though Meng Li stood in deep shadow, where she shouldn’t have been able to see his expression, she suddenly waved a hand near her nose and teased, *”Meng Li, why do I smell vinegar?”*
Meng Li flushed instantly, flustered. Madam Song dismounted and led her horse forward. After a moment’s hesitation, Meng Li followed.
Softly, she said, *”Meng Li, I’ve long known your feelings…”*
Before she could finish her gentle words, Meng Li spoke bitterly, *”Madam, I know too.”*
She stopped and patted his shoulder, meeting his rough yet sensitive gaze for the first time. Her eyes sparkled like autumn waters as she pointed toward the Central Plains and declared boldly, *”Meng Li, a true man of seven feet shouldn’t act like a lovelorn maiden! Maybe I, Song Huanghuang, will never love you—but you can make sure I remember a man named Meng Li for the rest of my life. How about it? The borders of Liang and Mang are already ablaze, and war drums will soon thunder in the heartlands. You’ve studied military strategy all these years—do you want to waste your days in Snow Lotus City, or will you go out and carve your own path?”*
Meng Li remained silent for a long time before finally saying, *”Madam… may I go to Liaodong instead of joining Northern Liang’s border army?”*
Madam Song handed him the reins and laughed. *”Why not? From this moment on, Fushui Fang’s Snow Lotus Tower will consider Meng Li dead.”*
Meng Li mounted swiftly, turned his horse, and galloped a dozen paces before wheeling around again. He struck his chest with a clenched fist and shouted, *”Song Huanghuang! I’ve loved you for twelve years and protected you with everything I had for twelve years. I don’t regret it—not even now, I’m still happy. If I make something of myself, I’ll return to Snow Lotus City for you. If I die on Liaodong’s frontier… I hope you’ll pour me a few cups of wine each Qingming Festival.”*
Madam Song laughed loudly. *”Then don’t die—show me what you’ve got!”*
And so, Meng Li left the city, riding alone toward Liaodong.
At that moment, neither Song Huanghuang nor Meng Li could have foreseen that in the future, when the twin tides of *”Xiangfu’s Northern Rush”* swept through the scholars and martial world of Liyang, Meng Li would unwittingly become one of the very first to set the movement in motion.
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