Outside the Xiamawei Post Station, a middle-aged man with an ethereal demeanor appeared. The nervous postmaster eyed this peculiar figure warily as he introduced himself as Wu Qi, claiming that a mere announcement to the Northern Liang King would grant him entry. The postmaster, struck by his extraordinary aura, dared not slight him. However, unable to reach the prince, he was intercepted by a man surnamed Xu, who acted as a coachman at the courtyard gate. The two then walked back to the main entrance of the post station together.
Xu Yanbing and Wu Qi stood on either side of the threshold, the latter smiling as he said, “Long time no see.”
Xu Yanbing made no move to step aside, his gaze icy. “Since you didn’t show yourself in the Northern Wilderness, isn’t it a bit late to come claiming kinship now? What, was being a general in Western Shu not exciting enough for you?”
Wu Qi burst into laughter. “Liu Yanbing—oh, wait, I heard my brother-in-law bestowed the surname Xu upon you. Now I should call you Xu Yanbing. Whether I was in the Northern Wilderness or Western Shu, an uncle visiting his nephew—should you really be blocking me?”
Xu Yanbing sneered. “If you want to die, I won’t stop you.”
Wu Qi sniffed. “Such temper! Truly befitting a grandmaster who once fought the King of Shu to a standstill. No need to kill me—I’m already scared half to death.”
Suddenly, the man who claimed to be the Northern Liang King’s uncle raised his voice and shouted, “Nephew—”
A thunderous crash followed.
Wu Qi was sent skidding backward over a dozen zhang from the entrance of Xiamawei Post Station.
Xu Yanbing slowly retracted his foot, then deliberately scraped his sole against the threshold as if to rid his boot of filth.
Wu Qi, who had leaned back but not fallen, straightened up and wiped the blood from his lips. Unfazed, he walked back to the gate, where Xu Fengnian, now dressed in clean robes, had arrived. Xu Yanbing stepped aside.
Wu Qi shed his earlier irreverence and abandoned any thought of forcing his way in, remaining outside the threshold. “In my life, I never expected four things: my sister marrying Xu Xiao, Xu Xiao not rebelling against Liyang, you holding onto Northern Liang, and you surviving the Qin Tianjian.”
Xu Fengnian’s expression was complex. “Won’t you come in for tea?”
Wu Qi shook his head. “No. I never regret my choices, right or wrong. Since I didn’t show myself in the Northern Wilderness back then, I’ve forfeited the right to step inside today. A debt repaid.”
Xu Fengnian asked, “Then you came for a reason?”
Wu Qi shook his head again. “Just to tell you that your trip to the Northern Wilderness wasn’t in vain. Some of Li Yishan’s arrangements are already stirring. But heed this—don’t expect them to offer timely aid, or even superficial favors. The Northern Wilderness’s Taiping Order might catch wind of this. Beware of the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “Understood.”
Wu Qi grinned. “If we ever cross swords on the battlefield, Chen Zhubao won’t hold back—and neither will I. I hope you won’t either.”
Xu Fengnian replied, “No problem.”
Before Wu Qi could speak, his nephew considerately reminded him, “If you need to vomit blood, now’s the time.”
Wu Qi’s face darkened. With a cold snort, he clutched his chest and turned to leave.
Xu Yanbing glanced at his retreating figure, suppressing a smirk. “That kick wasn’t even hard.”
Xu Fengnian hummed in agreement. “That’s why I said it.”
Xu Yanbing was speechless.
Those words had struck far harder than his kick.
Suddenly, Xu Yanbing turned his head. Xu Fengnian sighed. “Let it go.”
Nearby, a woman in vermilion robes and a young girl, who had been itching to act, reluctantly stood down.
Xu Yanbing chuckled. “Then I’ll go find some wine. It’s outrageous that the post station doesn’t even have a pot of Lüyi wine.”
With that, he strode toward a tavern on the street.
Unlike the previous day, when Xiamawei Post Station had been packed with influential men and martial heroes, today the teahouses and inns were filled almost exclusively with women—young maidens, voluptuous matrons, and even girls still growing into their frames.
When Xu Fengnian appeared at the gate to meet Wu Qi, nearly every window suddenly sprouted heads adorned with hairpins and ornaments, all eyes gleaming.
Some gazed with restrained longing, others boldly flirted, while a few shyly averted their eyes, too bashful to speak.
And then there were the brazen ones who shamelessly shouted the Northern Liang King’s name.
Before Xu Yanbing could even enter the tavern, a veritable rain of handkerchiefs, fans, and sachets descended from above.
The chorus of voices chirped things like, “Kind sir, please deliver this fan to His Highness!” while several women dashed out, tossing letters at Xu Yanbing before fleeing.
Even a half-step Martial Saint like Xu Yanbing couldn’t withstand such an onslaught.
Whispers floated from the buildings lining the street, soft and sweet.
“See? I told you—my Lord Xu is the handsomest man in the world! Now you’re smitten too, aren’t you?”
“Ah! My eyes are about to conceive! If only His Highness would step out and come closer, just to hear him speak—I’d die happy!”
“All the pretty boys in Tai’an City combined can’t compare to my Lord Xu. Oh, I can’t take it—he’s so dashing, just looking at him from afar makes me dizzy!”
“I regret not sneaking out yesterday. I could’ve seen His Highness in all his glory. Let me lean on you—I need to cry a little…”
“I’ve decided—I’ll marry no one but Lord Xu. Well… if that’s impossible, I’ll settle for being his chambermaid!”
Xu Yanbing flicked a sachet off his shoulder and decisively turned back toward Xiamawei Post Station, wondering if the prince should leave Tai’an City sooner rather than later.
Just how bold were the women of the capital?
Xu Fengnian had already returned to the courtyard with Jia Jiajia and Xu Ying.
A figure in purple robes had invited herself onto a wicker chair beneath the eaves, eyes closed in repose.
Xu Fengnian dragged over another chair. The woman in vermilion robes, now without her veil, crouched beside him, while Hehe Girl sat on the steps, munching on a scallion pancake she’d somehow produced out of thin air.
Lying back, Xu Fengnian asked softly, “Why haven’t you returned to Huishan yet?”
Xuan Yuan Qingfeng said nothing.
Xu Fengnian stared at the eaves overhead.
Years ago, during his last visit to the capital, he’d sat in this very courtyard, on a wicker chair like this one, chatting with this madwoman about snowmen and dreams.
That was also the day the fool with the wooden sword left the martial world behind.
Without opening her eyes, Xuan Yuan Qingfeng asked coldly, “All these years—were you pitying me, or yourself?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “Both, I suppose.”
Silence.
Xu Fengnian added, “Thank you for suppressing Qi Jiajie’s sword qi yesterday.”
Xuan Yuan Qingfeng replied frostily, “You owe me the title of ‘Number One Under Heaven.’”
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “I know, I know. When it comes to deals, I never cheat the young or the old.”
Xuan Yuan Qingfeng murmured to herself, “A deal, is it?”
The next moment, only a breeze remained beneath the eaves.
Xu Fengnian glanced at the now-empty chair, then stood and sat beside Hehe Girl. She pulled out another pancake and, without looking, handed it to him.
He took the stiff, cold flatbread and ate it in large bites.
In the courtyard, Xu Ying, clad in her crimson robes, stood still. Xu Fengnian mumbled through his food, “Spin for me!”
The swirl of scarlet twirled gracefully, a feast for the eyes.
Xu Fengnian’s smile was radiant.
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