Before reaching the new city beyond the pass, an amusing little incident occurred among the eight hundred light cavalry of the Fengzi Battalion.
The fierce-looking Captain Yuan Meng galloped to the side of the carriage and reported to the young prince acting as the coachman: “Your Highness, the scouts report that about sixty martial artists armed with swords and sabers are fighting in two groups about a mile northwest of here, heading this way at full speed. Should I lead some men to intercept them?”
Xu Fengnian paused for a moment, then chuckled, “Is this a feud between gangs, or are they actually targeting me?”
Yuan Meng bared his bloodthirsty grin and growled, “Who cares? The lads are itching for a fight—let’s use them as a warm-up!”
Xu Fengnian waved his hand dismissively. “Forget it. Let’s keep moving. As long as they don’t get too close, ignore them.”
Seeing the veteran border captain’s reluctance, Xu Fengnian pointed his whip at Yu Xinlang not far ahead and teased, “No fight to scratch that itch, huh? How about this—Wang Xianzhi’s top disciple. Think he’ll make you sweat?”
Yuan Meng grumbled, “Nah, better keep the peace. Harmony brings wealth, after all.”
However, the unfolding situation soon gave the frustrated Captain Yuan some satisfaction. The two groups of reckless martial artists unwittingly crashed into the serpentine formation of the eight hundred White Horse Righteous Riders. Yuan Meng could tell that the leaders were deliberately trying to divert the chaos, hoping to slip away in the confusion. A bloodstained young swordsman was the first to leap over several riders, landing on the right flank of the slowly advancing cavalry. Following his lead, a few others nimbly vaulted over the wall of horses.
But those with inferior lightness skills couldn’t just circle around the cavalry to escape. Hesitating for a moment, someone boldly shouted, “Make way, officers! Just passing through!” A handful of reckless fools then attempted to cut straight through the formation.
Yuan Meng, already fuming from the earlier audacity, spat viciously and roared, “Raise crossbows! Anyone who steps within ten paces—kill on sight!”
The cavalry didn’t halt but instantly raised their crossbows in unison.
Under the sunlight, the gleaming bolts sent chills down the spines of every martial artist present.
The frontrunners froze in terror, not daring to move a muscle. Only the five who had vaulted over the cavalry earlier remained on the right, while the rest were blocked on the left, clearly divided.
A middle-aged man in a green robe, clearly more experienced, signaled his companions to stay calm. He sheathed his sword behind his back in a gesture of goodwill and called out to Yuan Meng, “Esteemed General, I am Zhang Rongqian of the Taibai Sword Sect from Nanzhao. My companions and I are pursuing twelve ruthless criminals. If we have disturbed your procession, we beg your forgiveness!”
Being called “General” in front of the Prince of Beiliang made Yuan Meng’s dark face flush red with embarrassment. The flattery had backfired spectacularly. “General my ass! I’m just a damn captain! You silver-tongued bastard—you’re no good bird!”
Zhang Rongqian’s refined face stiffened. In the martial world, reputation was everything, and being publicly insulted by a mere cavalry captain was humiliating. But facing nearly a thousand elite Beiliang border troops, he swallowed his pride and remained silent.
A heavily wounded old man in brocade robes, bleeding from a gash in his waist, sneered, “Zhang Rongqian! You hypocritical fraud! Our young master merely exposed how you murdered your own brother to steal a secret manual and rise to power. If you’ve got the guts, silence us for good!”
A graceful woman in snow-white robes, cradling a crimson pipa, said softly, “Evil cultists—no matter how glib your tongues, you deserve death.”
The old man clutching his wound laughed mockingly. “Ah, the ‘Fairy Liu’ from Piaomiao Mountain speaks! Back in my day, I’ve bedded at least thirty of your so-called fairies! And your master, the ‘Flying Cicada Fairy’—that old hag who clings to youth and flaunts herself everywhere—she wasn’t even worth a glance! She only made it onto Huishan’s Snowy Plateau list because she slept with a bunch of old men. You think she’s some grand figure? When Xuanyuan Qingfeng killed our sect leader, we hated her, but we respected her strength. She took down six masters single-handedly! But what are you lot? Just a pack of hypocrites!”
Yuan Meng burst into laughter, suddenly in no hurry to disperse the crowd.
The white-robed pipa fairy narrowed her eyes. “Overlord of the Tides, you’re courting death!”
The old man, blood seeping between his fingers, smirked. “Oh? And you—are you looking for this?”
Zhang Rongqian, though seemingly focused on the old man, kept an eye on the cavalry. He noticed the carriage had stopped, the young coachman watching them. Strangely, no one emerged or even lifted the curtain—as if the coachman had halted on a whim to enjoy the spectacle.
With the cavalry frozen in place, an oppressive aura of killing intent filled the air.
Silence.
After a moment without further confrontation, the young coachman muttered something and resumed driving.
Yuan Meng curled his lip, clenched his fist, and signaled the cavalry to move on.
Eight hundred light riders sheathed their crossbows in unison.
Soundlessly.
The two factions gaped as the cavalry rode away, momentarily forgetting their blood feud.
Xu Beizhi leaned out of the carriage and teased, “Missed a perfect chance to show off. Not even a little display?”
Xu Fengnian smiled. “What, like a street performer breaking stones on his chest? Besides, they didn’t pay me.”
Xu Beizhi pressed, “Seems that injury in Tai’an City really took a toll. Otherwise, especially in front of those ‘fairies,’ you’d have jumped right in.”
Xu Fengnian shook his head. “You’ve got me wrong. In the martial world, the wise play humble. Those two groups? The ‘righteous’ and the ‘evil’? That young cult leader kept touching his chest—bet he’s got a stolen secret manual from the Tidal Listening Pavilion. The Taibai Sword Sect and Piaomiao Mountain? They’re not here for justice—they’re here for the loot. And afterward? They’ll split it quietly, maybe trade volumes, forge alliances, even arrange a marriage between their disciples. Everyone wins, everyone gets to brag.”
Xu Beizhi whistled. “Damn, Prince, you know your stuff.”
Xu Fengnian fell silent, then said softly, “That’s their world. Not good or bad—just very… martial.”
Xu Beizhi mused, “By your logic, life itself is a martial world.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “Pretty much.”
※※※
As they neared the new city, more and more martial artists appeared. Many, like Zhang Rongqian, had followed Xuanyuan Qingfeng to the Western Regions to hunt demons. But after she finished the job and vanished, she’d urged them to enlist at the border. Most older heroes hadn’t actually come this far, preferring to tour Liangzhou or Lingzhou, sparring or networking with the Fish-Dragon Society—one of the ten great sects.
In the martial world, reputation was currency. Even Xu Fengnian, in his wandering days, had seen street brawls called off because the hired muscle recognized each other—ending in shared drinks instead.
Most martial artists couldn’t venture beyond the new city without military clearance. Only a select few, escorted by Fish-Dragon Society elites, could glimpse the frontier. The lucky ones might spot White Horse Scouts or distant cavalry maneuvers.
Unlike the earlier oblivious groups, these young heroes around the new city knew better. Eight hundred white-armored riders escorted by two thousand elite cavalry? Only one person warranted such treatment.
As the White Horse Righteous Riders passed, a bald youth suddenly sprinted toward them, shouting, “Prince of Beiliang! I, Liu An of Liaodong, challenge you!”
Before he could reach the carriage, Yuan Meng leveled his spear and knocked the bold fool back with a precise strike to the abdomen—just enough to stop him without injury.
Liu An sat up, rubbing his belly, and yelled, “Prince! Give me a proper weapon, and let’s—”
But the cavalry was already gone.
Liu An sighed. All his heroic lines—
*”I, Liu An, drink the fiercest wine, wield the sharpest blade, ride the swiftest steed!”*
*”Liu An, at twenty, left Liaodong—three years and two thousand miles of vengeance!”*
—had gone unsaid.
Still, he grinned. At least his name would spread now.
Others seized the moment too, shouting lofty ambitions:
*”I will defeat every master under heaven!”*
*”My fate is mine alone—if heaven dares oppose me, I’ll destroy it!”*
*”The world betrays—I’ll slay every god and Buddha in my path!”*
Inside the carriage, Xu Beizhi and Chen Xiliang exchanged glances. Were all young heroes this… ambitious nowadays?
But the real pity was that the young prince, one of the world’s top martial masters, wasn’t even here.
Someone else awaited his audience.
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