Chapter 9: Blade in the Snow

After Minor Snow arrived following the Start of Winter, yet no snow fell during the season, the young prince, who adored sipping warm wine while reading forbidden books on snowy nights, was deeply disappointed.

The white-robed, fox-faced figure had been meditating in the first floor of the Listening Tide Pavilion for half a month, immersed in a trance bordering on obsession. Such perseverance made the pampered Xu Fengnian feel ashamed of his own lack of discipline—though that didn’t stop him from finding amusement elsewhere in the palace.

The courtesan Yu Youwei had settled into a secluded courtyard where banana and crabapple trees had been transplanted overnight. Her plump white cat, Wu Meiniang, seemed quite content with its new home, growing even rounder.

Xu Fengnian sent Yu Youwei the finest sable furs and the most exquisite delicacies, yet he deliberately kept his distance, never again indulging in her jade-like beauty. As the rotund Lu Qiur had wisely said, raising people was like training falcons—it required patience. Too fast, and they’d lose their spirit; too slow, and they’d never learn obedience.

Everyone in the palace knew the young prince loved boating alone on the lake. Each time he reached the center, he’d toss a few items into the water. On warmer days, he’d even dive in, resurfacing only after a long while—perhaps a sign of his innate affinity for water.

Today, Xu Fengnian was in high spirits, playing the role of a boatman as he rowed to the lake’s heart. Muttering to himself, he tied freshly roasted venison to a stone and dropped it into the depths. Then he lay back in the boat, basking in the winter sun, drowsy and content.

Half-asleep, he heard a voice calling him. Sitting up, he spotted a tall, elegant woman in a luxurious red fur robe standing in the lakeside pavilion. Beside her familiar slender figure stood a few strangers. She waved energetically, and Xu Fengnian’s face lit up with joy.

He rowed back, leaped into the pavilion, and was immediately embraced by the woman, who planted kisses all over his face, leaving lipstick marks. Xu Fengnian grinned and called out affectionately, “Sister.”

In this world, only one person dared tease the young prince so boldly—Xu Zhihu, the eldest daughter of the Grand Pillar of State.

The siblings had always been close. Before her marriage, she’d even shared a bed with Xu Fengnian until he was twelve or thirteen. If the Northern Liang King Xu Xiao was the most protective of his son, and Xu Longxiang the most obedient, then Xu Zhihu was undoubtedly the most doting.

The moment she received her father’s letter announcing her brother’s return, Xu Zhihu had rushed back with a retinue of fierce servants.

Tears welling in her eyes, she pinched Xu Fengnian’s cheeks, ruffled his hair, squeezed his shoulders, and—without hesitation—gave his backside a firm slap. Then, out of habit, she reached for his groin.

Xu Fengnian grimaced. “Sister, everything’s fine down there. No need to check—especially not in front of strangers. Who are these two?”

Aside from the maids and matrons who trembled under Xu Zhihu’s eccentric dominance, two outsiders stood in the pavilion. One was a dashing scholar in blue robes, carrying a sword with an air of nobility. The other was a burly, righteous-looking man.

Xu Zhihu giggled and pointed. “This is Young Master Cui of the Qinghe Cui clan, a master swordsman. He saved me from bandits on the road. And this is Young Master Zheng, a renowned hero in the Guanzhong region. Both are my saviors.”

The two men bowed. “Greetings, Your Highness.”

Xu Fengnian smiled. “If you’ve helped my sister, you’ve helped me. If there’s any martial art you wish to learn, our library is vast. I’ll have some manuals fetched for you.”

Young Master Cui’s eyes burned with hidden desire but he politely declined. Young Master Zheng, however, seemed utterly disinterested.

Inwardly, Xu Fengnian scoffed—*Hypocrite* and *Fool*—but outwardly, he remained cordial, exchanging pleasantries. Xu Zhihu, of course, found nothing dull about her brother. To her, he was perfection itself, even when he’d tumbled off a horse as a child.

Xu Fengnian summoned Jiang Ni and had her escort the two guests around the palace. Once the servants were dismissed, only the long-separated siblings remained.

Without ceremony, Xu Fengnian said, “Sister, Young Master Cui may be handsome, but he’s clearly scheming—just like me. Don’t let him swindle you out of money or virtue. As for that oaf, he’s either genuinely stupid or dangerously cunning. Play with them if you must, but don’t get attached.”

Xu Zhihu tapped his forehead and smirked. “Since when do I need *your* advice on men? One glance, and I know exactly what’s in their pants—size, quality, and all.”

Xu Fengnian took her hand, peeled a tribute tangerine, and shared it with her. Chewing a segment, he grinned. “You’ve filled out a bit, sister. Good. If you’d lost weight from hardship, I’d have gone on a rampage in Jiangnan.”

Suddenly, Xu Zhihu burst into tears. Xu Fengnian, thinking she’d been wronged, clenched his teeth. “Who upset you? I’ll gather my men and slaughter them!”

Wiping her tears, Xu Zhihu finally calmed and took his hand, tracing the calluses on his palm and fingers. Her voice cracked. “I know how hard these three years were for you. The old you would’ve never swallowed a tangerine segment whole—even if I peeled every thread, you’d refuse.”

She sniffled. “What hardships have *I* endured? Even as a widow scorned behind my back, their words are just mosquito bites. But you—walking thousands of miles… I can’t bear to imagine. That heartless father of ours! I’ll settle this with him! If he won’t cherish you, come with me to Jiangnan. It’s rich, and the girls are pretty.”

Xu Fengnian made a silly face, coaxing a laugh from her. “Sister, I’m not a child anymore.”

Xu Zhihu pulled him into her embrace, pressing his head against her chest—envied by every man in Jiangnan. “Even if you’re not a child, you’re sleeping with me tonight. No escape.”

Feigning modesty, Xu Fengnian said, “Sister, this is scandalous.”

She twisted his ear. “Should I spread the tale of how you wet the bed at eight? Or how, at twelve, your hands always found their way here by morning?”

Xu Fengnian glanced at her chest, wishing he could vanish. Flattering, he said, “Let’s not turn on each other, sister. Here, let me massage your shoulders.”

As he kneaded with practiced skill, Xu Zhihu gazed at the lake, sighing. “You return, Huang Man’er leaves. When I go, that girl arrives. Our family’s never whole.”

Xu Fengnian asked, “When the heavy snow comes, shall we visit the glazed world of Wudang Mountain?”

Xu Zhihu laughed bitterly. “If that heartless coward seeks the Heavenly Dao, let him be lonely forever. I won’t beg. Honestly, I’d forgotten him.”

Xu Fengnian dropped the subject.

Xu Zhihu kissed his cheek. “My heart’s small, my world’s small. With you here, all other men are beneath notice.”

Xu Fengnian feigned melancholy. “Pity we’re siblings.”

She pinched his ear, chuckling. “You rascal.”

A married woman is like spilled water—irretrievable.

When Major Snow arrived, so did the snow.

No matter how they clung to the moment, their ten-day reunion ended swiftly. Xu Zhihu had to return to Jiangnan. “Once the snow falls,” she said, “if I don’t leave now, I never will.”

That day, Xu Fengnian rode thirty miles to see her off, then returned alone to the city.

Back at the palace, in low spirits, Xu Fengnian impulsively summoned Jiang Ni and Yu Youwei to a lakeside pavilion to admire the snow.

The lake had frozen, yet the blizzard raged on, blanketing the world in white. Xu Fengnian shook his head, stood, and sipped warm wine. Muttering, “Old Lake Ghost, don’t freeze to death down there,” he gazed at the Listening Tide Pavilion.

The fox-faced figure hadn’t been seen in ages. How was he faring amidst those endless martial tomes?

Finally, Xu Fengnian looked toward Wudang Mountain. He couldn’t fathom those who devoted their lives to martial mastery, let alone the madmen chasing the elusive Heavenly Dao. He only knew that if that young Daoist—the one who’d ridden his ox backward—had agreed back then, his sister would’ve been happy.

Thus, Xu Fengnian held no fondness for the millennia-old Wudang. His sister’s heart was small; his was smaller.

He poured Jiang Ni a cup of hot wine. She responded with a cold sneer.

A fallen princess, hailed by her master as one blessed by heaven’s fortune, she was now just a maid in the Northern Liang Palace, bound by strict rules. Shivering in thin robes, her eyes lingered on the steaming cup.

Xu Fengnian mocked, “You want wine, yet refuse what I offer. Since you can’t take it yourself, we’re both suffering. I’m just a wastrel. If you’ve got the guts, go assassinate the emperor—or my father. Picking on me? How heroic.”

Jiang Ni hissed, “A weak woman with only one divine dagger—who else should I kill but you?”

Xu Fengnian had no retort. Sipping his wine, he muttered, “What a pair we make.”

Jiang Ni closed her eyes, feigning meditation.

Yu Youwei, cradling Wu Meiniang, studied the stunning maid with curiosity.

Then—a white streak shot from the pavilion, landing on the ice near the Listening Tide Pavilion.

The fox-faced figure, clad in white, drew both swords for the first time.

*Xiudao*, three feet two inches, ten pounds nine ounces—blunt by design.

*Chunlei*, two feet four inches, a mere one pound three ounces—razor-sharp, capable of cleaving armor.

With *Xiudao*, he stirred a thousand layers of snow, as if the storm itself bent to his will.

With *Chunlei*, he carved a hundred terrifying fissures across the frozen lake.

Snow and wind whirled chaotically.

Xu Fengnian, mid-bite into a cucumber, froze, staring in awe at the spectacle.

Jiang Ni whispered, “What a beautiful woman.”

Yu Youwei, with her rudimentary swordsmanship and time at the Shangyin Academy, recognized true mastery. This was a blade master of the highest order—a sight rivaling her mother’s sword dances from childhood.

The white figure surged forward, twin blades carving an unstoppable path.

Xu Fengnian took another bite of cucumber, grinning. “*This* is the bearing of a grandmaster.”

As the storm stilled, *Chunlei* flew back, sheathed, and embedded itself in the snow before Xu Fengnian.

That year, during Major Snow, the fox-faced figure abandoned one sword and ascended to the second floor.