After a trip to the county seat of Fulong County, Wang Fumi led two riders and a luxurious carriage out of the city. The group consisted of three men and one woman: a well-matched couple, a brother and sister from a prestigious local family, and a wealthy errand-runner who served as the coachman for the siblings, who were unskilled in riding. All were familiar acquaintances, otherwise Wang Fumi wouldn’t have dared to bring them before Xu Fengnian. After introductions, they showed little interest in Xu Qi, the wandering scholar from Northern Liang, and were thoroughly disappointed after catching only a fleeting glimpse of the aloof maidservant who barely lifted the carriage curtain to reveal half her face.
The young men and women accompanying Wang Fumi on horseback bore a superficial resemblance to him—a rising star among scholars—and Liu Wanqing, the daughter of the Heavy Sword Pavilion’s leader, but in truth, they were worlds apart. The man, Wei Gaowei, was a wandering swordsman without any illustrious master, having only received sporadic guidance from a few renowned elders. The woman, Wei Xiaoshuang, came from an official’s family. Her grandfather, now advanced in years, had retired from a position as a Ministry of War official, while her father currently served as a county lieutenant in a neighboring prefecture. Clearly not from a refined scholarly lineage, her family had little rapport with most of Fulong County’s established clans.
The coachman, Song Xianhu, was a well-known figure in Fulong County—a minor god of wealth, reputed to own eight boats on the local lake. However, in the highly cultured Fulong County, Song, hailing from humble origins, was never truly accepted. When invited to social gatherings, he was often treated as a mere cash cow, earning him the playful nickname “Scattergold Boy” alongside his moniker “Song of the Eight Boats.” Inside his carriage sat the siblings, no older than fifteen or sixteen, yet their status was anything but ordinary. Their family’s scholarly pedigree was far purer than Wang Fumi’s. The brother and sister, Ye Yan and Ye Geng, belonged to the Ye family of Fulong, a prominent aristocratic clan during the Spring and Autumn era of Eastern Yue. Though the family had lain low for decades like dormant winter insects, none dared underestimate them. These two siblings were from a collateral branch—otherwise, Wang Fumi would never have had the clout to invite them on this leisurely outing.
Ye Yan, the elder sister, was gentle-natured and had even suggested that Xu Baozao ride with them in the carriage, though the maidservant had ungratefully declined.
Do not underestimate Ye Yan’s offer. In the Central Plains, the divide between nobility and commoners was as vast as that between heaven and earth. For her to invite someone of obscure northwestern lineage—let alone a mere maidservant—to share her carriage was already an extraordinary act of grace.
Setting aside Xu Baozao’s ill-timed refusal, Ye Yan’s gesture suggested either an innate kindness, a bodhisattva’s heart, or a depth of cunning beyond measure.
From Song Xianhu’s expression of regret, it was clear this influential local magnate thought the lowly maidservant had foolishly squandered a golden opportunity.
He knew full well that after the new emperor’s ascension, the cautious Ye family of Fulong, sensing the dawn of a prosperous era, had resolved to re-enter officialdom and flex their aristocratic muscles. Through backchannel whispers from the capital, Song had learned that the Ye patriarch was slated for an exceptional promotion to Left Spring Office Attendant after the next regional evaluations. Alongside other noble-born but untitled worthies, he would be personally recruited by the Ministry of Personnel into the capital’s bureaucracy. Though the Ye family couldn’t compare to the likes of the Yu clan, which had produced Yu Luandao (whose father was rumored to leap to the prestigious position of Grand Academician of the Chongxian Academy), their resurgence was undeniably a boon for Bozhou, a region rarely producing high-ranking officials. The entire Bozhou officialdom might soon rally around the Ye family, now that they had “connections in the court.” Privately, Song Xianhu likened the Ye patriarch—father of Ye Yan and Ye Geng—to a “little governor of Bozhou.”
Fulong County widely acknowledged Song Xianhu as a master networker—thick-skinned, humble, honey-tongued, and quick to kneel before authority. His memory was impeccable; he could recall the names of obscure figures he’d met only once years prior, even if they failed to recognize this wealthy “God of Fortune.”
Few knew, however, that Song had once been a diligent scholar, a child prodigy in his hometown. But after his family’s sudden downfall in his youth, he abandoned the imperial examinations and turned to business, starting with a tavern. Through shrewd management and luck, he’d built his fortune over a decade to reach his current standing.
In contrast to Song’s reserved demeanor, the wandering swordsman Wei Gaowei was a flamboyant presence. Upon hearing that Xu Fengnian admired the Song family’s swordsmanship from Eastern Yue’s Sword Pool, Wei immediately boasted, “Years ago, during my travels in the northern martial world, I had the honor of meeting Sword Pool’s patriarch, Li Yibai, at Pipashan near the capital’s border.”
While Ye Yan remained composed, her younger brother Ye Geng, leaning out the carriage window, was practically ready to leap out and beg Wei to take him as a disciple.
Caged youths like Ye Geng idolized the martial world and its heroes, often sneaking out to teahouses or bridges to listen to storytellers’ tales of great swordsmen who vanquished bandit lairs, upheld justice, and rode off into the sunset in flowing white robes.
Wei Xiaoshuang, whose family barely qualified as military aristocracy, was no better, gazing starry-eyed at the dashing Wei Gaowei.
Had it been the present-day Xu Baozao, she’d have struggled to comprehend their awe. Having met the Sword Crown and Sword Servant of the Wu family’s Sword Mound and even become Qi Xianxia’s sole disciple, she’d find it hard to grasp why ordinary martial artists would consider knowing someone like Li Yibai a stroke of divine luck. For most, befriending even an ordinary Sword Pool disciple—whether an inner-chamber disciple or an obscure outer disciple—was already cause for celebration. Thus, even Liu Wanqing, daughter of the Heavy Sword Pavilion’s leader, subtly regarded Wei Gaowei with newfound respect—a natural reaction in the martial world, not mere snobbery.
Wang Fumi, ever considerate, had brought a fine horse for Xu Fengnian, who accepted without pretense and rode alongside them. Most of the journey was spent listening to Wei Gaowei’s tales—rumors of eccentric heroes, supernatural fox spirits, and, of course, his own two grand adventures. The first was when the orthodox martial world, led by the Alliance Leader, the Violet-Clad of Huishan, marched northwest to hunt down demons who’d stolen secret manuals from Huishan’s Snowy Plateau. The second was when Xuanyuan Qingfeng, before her seclusion, hosted a grand gathering on the Bullcalf Ridge, summoning nearly a thousand heroes to the Snowy Plateau. The local general, terrified by the assembly, had stationed thousands of elite troops at the mountain’s base, borrowed two thousand seasoned cavalry from the deputy military commissioner, and mobilized two thousand more from local garrisons just to maintain order.
Even Wei Gaowei couldn’t conceal his excitement recounting these events, his eyes alight as if reliving the thrill of riding across the northwestern deserts alongside the Violet-Clad to slay demons.
The money-scented Song Xianhu occasionally chuckled at the thrilling parts, neither envious nor disdainful.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage