Chapter 1086:

Wang Fumi chuckled nonchalantly, “If you want to condemn someone, you can always trump up a charge.”

The Commandant laughed heartily, not bothering to conceal his amusement. “Political niceties may seem useless, but in reality, they are the most useful of all.”

Wang Fumi’s expression turned indifferent. “But aren’t you, Commandant Song, a military man? Since when did you start acting like a bureaucratic official?”

Standing proudly, Wang Fumi flicked his sword with a graceful flourish and narrowed his eyes. “I once heard that in our Fulong County, there was a young infantryman who charged into battle six times on the southern front near the capital. At one point, he came within forty paces of the enemy commander, Lu Shengxiang. In the end, he returned home in glory, becoming one of the youngest commandants in all of Bozhou.”

At that moment, the young Commandant seemed as if an old wound had been torn open—beneath the hardened scar, the blood still flowed fresh.

Liu Wanqing curled her lips. “I suppose this Commandant Song’s skills in bureaucratic maneuvering pale in comparison to his battlefield prowess. To climb the political ladder, he had to bow his head and play the obedient watchdog, guarding the gates for his masters.”

A deadly tension filled the air, the atmosphere thickening to an almost unbearable degree.

Perched on a high branch, Xu Fengnian clicked his tongue. “Hitting below the belt—this is how you make a mortal enemy. That famous young hero of Fulong County, Wang, must have felt the noose around his neck wasn’t tight enough, so he gave it a couple of extra tugs. And then his fairy-like companion here tied the knot for good measure.”

Xu Baozao, though still unaccustomed to their current intimate posture, was no longer as stiff as before. Suddenly, she sniffed and gasped in horror, “Xu, do you have body odor?”

Xu Fengnian retorted irritably, “Yes, and if you’re not careful, I might just follow the Commandant’s example and silence you for good.”

If one could ascend to the Heavenly Realm, they would attain a body free of impurities.

Clearly, the girl was just trying to provoke him.

Xu Baozao instantly switched to a playful grin. “Oh, it must be your natural fragrance then.”

Xu Fengnian replied flatly, “I’d rather it be body odor.”

Xu Baozao rolled her eyes and then couldn’t resist showing off her encyclopedic knowledge, recounting some obscure historical secrets. “The scandal in Bozhou has long been public knowledge. The capital’s elite have a penchant for exotic stones, considering it a refined hobby. They favor stones from Chun Shen Lake and the Slender Lake as the centerpieces of their gardens—preferably those with bizarre, jagged shapes, which not only enhance the scenery but also serve as feng shui talismans to gather fortune. Since Chun Shen Lake is too far from the capital, transporting its stones is extremely difficult, reserved only for the highest-ranking nobles. Slender Lake stones, though slightly inferior in quality, are still prized rarities among connoisseurs. Gao Zhizhen, Fulong County’s top official, has always been a shrewd opportunist. Years ago, he seized an excuse to carve a new, wide postal road along the northeast corner of Slender Lake, connecting it to the canal system. This allowed massive stone-laden barges to sail directly to the capital, delivering Slender Lake stones to the mansions of nobles and ministers. This scheme initially went unnoticed—partly because the war had just ended, and the new road did serve practical purposes, and partly because…”

Xu Fengnian listened absentmindedly.

What truly preoccupied him during this journey was the impending ambush at Difei Mountain—a storm brewing from all directions. And the person who mattered most was the girl beside him, whose choices might shape the next hundred, even thousand, years.

Xu Fengnian, who rarely regretted anything, couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. Not because he regretted dragging along a troublesome companion, but because he wished he had swallowed his pride back then—when he and Li Yufu were at their peak—to beg Deng Tai’e once more. The three of them should have stormed the Heavenly Gate together!

With a sigh, Xu Fengnian muttered gloomily, “Well, guess I’ll play the part of a transcendent sage for now.”

The next moment, as he willed it—

Commandant Song’s saber flew from its scabbard, hurtling straight toward Liu Wanqing’s forehead. Before she could react—or even the towering Commandant himself could comprehend why his blade had leapt out—the hilt struck her between the brows with just enough force to knock her unconscious.

Wang Fumi, baffled, assumed it was a sneak attack by Commandant Song. Beyond shock at the masterful saber technique, he was furious. “With all the advantages you already hold, you still resort to underhanded tactics?”

The battle-hardened young Commandant remained silent as the fallen saber shot back like a rainbow, sheathing itself with a crisp clang.

Even the righteous and fearless Wang Fumi couldn’t help but gulp.

What he didn’t notice was that Commandant Song’s own hands were trembling.

Because the saber, once sheathed, refused to settle—humming faintly, a sound imperceptible to others but deafening to the Commandant, like thunder in his ears.

Just as he was about to scan his surroundings, his face drained of color.

A whisper, as if from someone standing beside him, echoed in his ear: “Leave with your men, and you’ll live.”

Ghosts in broad daylight!

The young Commandant, who had never believed in the supernatural, felt a chill crawl down his spine.

A veteran of countless battles, he briefly considered resistance—only to feel an invisible hand clutch his heart, cutting off his breath, sight, and hearing in an instant.

To his credit, the Commandant was decisive. With a strained nod, his senses returned abruptly. Raising a hand, he rasped, “Retreat!”

He turned on his heel and strode away without hesitation.

His loyal subordinates, though confused, obeyed without question, withdrawing in disciplined order.

Watching from the tree, Xu Fengnian mused silently, “How long can this elite unit’s spirit last without a war to fight?”

After landing with Xu Baozao, he said softly, “Wait in the temple. I’ll be back soon.”

Inside the temple, Wang Fumi stood agape, utterly bewildered.

Why had Commandant Song sheathed his blade voluntarily?

Glancing at the Buddha statue in the hall, he wondered—had the Bodhisattva truly intervened?

Only when a girl entered the temple and Liu Wanqing slowly regained consciousness did Wang Fumi snap out of it, rushing to help her up. Rubbing her swollen forehead, she asked, “What happened?”

Wang Fumi hesitated. Truthfully, he wanted to know the same.

The girl lifted her chin haughtily. “No need to guess. My young master saved you!”

*Thwack!*

A knuckle rapped her head. She whirled around, glaring. “What was that for?! I wasn’t lying! *Young master!*”

The last two words were spat through gritted teeth.

Xu Fengnian returned swiftly, strolling into the temple with ease. Ignoring Xu Baozao’s grumbling, he smiled at Wang Fumi and Liu Wanqing. “I’m Xu Qi, just passing by. Pure coincidence.”

Liu Wanqing eyed him with suspicion, but Wang Fumi clasped his hands gratefully. “Though I don’t know the reason, thank you, Brother Xu, for saving us!”

Xu Fengnian offered no explanation, only a cryptic remark: “Just a scholar who couldn’t bear to see fellow scholars bullied by warriors.”

Beside him, the girl rolled her eyes again.

Without turning, Xu Fengnian rapped her head once more.

For some inexplicable reason, Wang Fumi felt an instinctive trust in this man. After ensuring Liu Wanqing was unharmed, he eagerly struck up a conversation. Upon learning that Xu Qi planned to visit Dongyue Sword Pool, he insisted on joining the journey.

Xu Baozao and Liu Wanqing, however, took an instant dislike to each other—for no apparent reason.

Such was the enigmatic nature of fate.

Some bonds form at first sight; others remain strangers even in old age.

As they walked, Wang Fumi’s admiration for Dongyue Sword Pool overflowed. He spoke of the sword sanctuary with unbridled enthusiasm, recounting the exploits of its masters as if they were his own.

For martial artists, Dongyue Sword Pool was an unavoidable landmark.

The school rejected blind reverence for tradition, as evidenced by Song Nianqing’s final journey—carrying fourteen newly forged swords, each representing an original technique.

*New.*

Thus, despite the passing of its elder pillars, Dongyue Sword Pool welcomed a fresh generation: the young sect master Li Yibai, the prodigies Song Tinglu and Shan Eryi, and other promising talents.

Though the martial world might doubt their current strength, within its walls, the sect thrived—vigorous as bamboo after rain, growing taller by the day.

This was the depth of Dongyue Sword Pool’s legacy. Even after the deaths of Song Nianqing and Chai Qingshan, the sect never faced a true decline—unlike the Daoist strongholds of Wudang and Longhu, where leadership transitions were stark. By contrast, even as other top factions like Western Shu’s Spring Scroll Hall or Northern Liang’s Fish-Dragon Society flourished, the leaderless Dongyue Sword Pool still ranked above them.

Xu Fengnian listened with few interjections, answering only when prompted. As Wang Fumi rambled on, he suddenly thought of his younger self—before ascending Wudang to train with the blade, hadn’t he been just as starry-eyed?

Pausing mid-step, he gazed into the distance, his hair fluttering gently in the breeze.

*A gentle wind, Xu Fengnian.*