After the group of powerful yet somewhat disheveled eunuchs from the capital had descended the stairs and left, Xu Fengnian walked over to Liu Nirong’s table. Before sitting down, he waved to Su Su and the others with a smile, “Su Su, Miss Xue, and Uncle Qi, come on over, let’s all sit together. The more, the merrier!”
Xu Fengnian was the first to take his seat.
Lin Hongyuan, Mao Shulang, Cheng Baishuang, Ji Liu’an.
Liu Nirong, Zhao Shanhong, and another elderly elder from the Yulong Gang.
Along with Su Su, Xue Songguan, the Qi family swordsmith who had once gifted Xu Fengnian the famous sword “Spring and Autumn,” Wei Miao, and the Miaojiang woman.
The woman clad in a crimson robe was naturally Xu Ying, while the female ghost who had earlier been hanging upside down outside the window to bask in the moonlight was none other than the giggling girl Jia Jiajia.
Both of them had arrived in Bei’an Town just that evening.
The reason was simple—staying in Qingliang Mountain was boring.
Xu Wei Xiong, also concerned about Xu Fengnian, had sent them to fetch him.
A wine table could only accommodate nine chairs at most, but with so many people present, not everyone could have a seat.
Fortunately, Xu Ying and the giggling girl had no interest in sitting on chairs. They flitted over to a nearby undamaged screen—Xu Ying standing, the girl squatting. The latter gnawed on a roasted chicken she had somehow pilfered, spitting out bones in no time, then wiped her greasy hands on Xu Ying’s crimson robe. Xu Ying merely laughed happily.
After Xu Fengnian, it was Su Su—who could be effortlessly knocked down by anyone present—who dragged a chair over and sat down first.
Zhao Shanhong, however, was the first to kneel, pressing his hands to the ground as he trembled and addressed the young prince, “Zhao Shanhong of the Yulong Gang pays his respects to Your Highness!”
This former top martial artist of the northern underworld had been beaten to a pulp by the mad dog Yuan Tingshan, forcing him to seek refuge with the Yulong Gang. If he remembered correctly, this young prince had once beaten that arrogant Yuan Tingshan half to death in the Tai’an City palace, right in front of the Grand Pillar of the State, Gu Jiantang.
For Zhao Shanhong, who believed that might made right, kneeling before the leader of the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry was an honor he considered a blessing from a past life.
Xu Fengnian gave a slight nod. “Rise.”
Then he turned to the leader of the Yulong Gang and asked with a smile, “Why aren’t you sitting? Has becoming a gang leader made you too proud to join us?”
Liu Nirong, who had initially intended to stand, hesitated before finally taking her original seat—coincidentally right next to Xu Fengnian’s right hand.
The elderly elder, who usually lorded his seniority over Liu Nirong, swallowed hard. If he’d had a brick handy, he might have knocked himself out.
After rising, Zhao Shanhong quietly positioned himself behind Liu Nirong, standing shoulder to shoulder with the equally solemn elder, sharing a silent camaraderie.
The third floor of the tavern was now empty except for them.
Amid the relief of survival, there were also unspoken thoughts.
In the martial world, besides skill, experience mattered.
Experience meant having seen and recognized someone.
And now that they had met Xu Fengnian—both a terrestrial immortal and the Northwest Prince—where in the martial world couldn’t they boast about it for the next seven or eight years?
Lin Hongyuan, Mao Shulang, Cheng Baishuang, and Ji Liu’an took their seats again.
Su Su, Wei Miao, and the Miaojiang woman each brought chairs over. Xue Songguan, despite Su Su’s urging, remained standing behind him with her guqin, and the Qi family swordsmith from old Western Shu also declined to sit.
Thus, the table was filled with nine.
Xu Fengnian broke the seal on a jug of Lüyi wine, pouring a cup each for Liu Nirong and Mao Shulang near him before filling his own. With a smile, he said, “I won’t stand on ceremony. Everyone, help yourselves. Your drinking manners are your own—no need to force others. Those who pressure others to drink have the worst manners.”
Ji Liu’an raised his cup to the young prince and downed it in one go. “Ji Liu’an of the Dragon Palace, honored to meet Your Highness!”
Cheng Baishuang also raised his cup. “Cheng Baishuang, a commoner from the southern border. This cup is the same as Brother Ji’s.”
Wei Miao drank his cup in silence before declaring, “Wei Miao!”
Xu Fengnian returned each toast with a cup of his own.
Lin Hongyuan had been about to raise her cup but, after exchanging glances with the young prince, decided against it.
The Miaojiang woman bypassed the cup entirely, lifting the jug to take a deep swig before staring straight at Xu Fengnian’s face. “With looks like yours, your mother must’ve been a beauty!”
Xu Fengnian grinned. “This elder sister speaks the truth!”
Wei Miao chuckled in agreement.
Only Su Su crossed his arms and snorted.
Xu Fengnian glanced sideways at his old friend from their days in Northern Mang. “Oh, Su Su—no, I should address you as ‘Great Hero Su’ now. Heard you’ve made quite a name for yourself in the western Shu and southern Zhao martial world. What, are you here in Northern Liang for the Wudang martial debate? Aren’t you afraid your presence will relegate everyone else to fighting for second place?”
Su Su’s face flushed with indignation, nearly choking on his own rage. “Xu! Cut the crap!”
Xu Fengnian hastily poured himself another cup, feigning alarm. “Truly, the Great Hero Su, undefeated across Shu and Zhao! I need a drink to steady my nerves.”
Su Su stood and slammed the table. “I’ll drink to your uncle! Xu, you looking for a beating?!”
Not just Lin Hongyuan and the southern guests, but even Liu Nirong and Wei Miao’s groups were stunned. They couldn’t fathom whether this man’s audacity was innate.
This Su fellow’s martial skills were mediocre, yet he seemed utterly fearless.
Zhao Shanhong and the elder, however, were convinced this seemingly unremarkable young man must be a hidden master of the highest caliber!
Xu Fengnian chuckled. “Come on, then! I beg you to beat me!”
Su Su plopped back into his seat with lightning speed, declaring righteously, “A gentleman uses his words, not his fists!”
Zhao Shanhong nearly popped his eyes out.
After Su Su’s outburst, the previously tense atmosphere lightened considerably.
With such a diverse group at the table, deep conversation was impossible.
After drinking about a jug and a half, Xu Fengnian excused himself to greet someone downstairs, ending the gathering. Lin Hongyuan and Liu Nirong, who had originally met to discuss business, stayed on the third floor. Su Su’s group had no intention of lingering, though Wei Miao stood to toast Cheng Baishuang and Ji Liu’an before leaving. They were old acquaintances, having once represented Shu Prince Chen Zhizhuo and Yan Prince Zhao Bing in a failed meeting with Grand Pillar Gu Jiantao in a Liaodong town. Now, with both princes rebelling, the former adversaries found themselves on the same side. Among heroes, loyalty to different masters didn’t preclude mutual respect—especially now that they were “family.”
Xu Fengnian returned to the second floor, where only the grandfather and granddaughter remained at their window-side table.
Seeing Xu Fengnian return unharmed, the old man sighed in relief. Though the Golden Saber Manor’s mistress, Tong Shanquan, kept a straight face, her brows relaxed slightly.
Once Xu Fengnian sat down, the old man asked, “How did it go?”
Exhaling the alcohol—and perhaps some pent-up frustration—Xu Fengnian smiled. “All settled. When you’re out in the world, friends matter. Even with the commotion upstairs, mine handled it.”
The young but formidable saber master frowned. “One of them had an overwhelming aura—at least a peak Heavenly Phenom realm expert!”
The old man scowled. “Must’ve been Wei Miao! That guy’s gotten bolder since siding with the Shu Prince. Trading a free life as a martial master to be a lackey in politics! I must’ve been blind to ever think he was a real man.”
Xu Fengnian offered no comment.
In an instant, Tong Shanquan was on her feet, left hand gripping the hilt of a long saber at her right waist, drawing it an inch.
Whether it was the famed “Wude” or “Tianbao” remained unclear.
Xu Fengnian sighed.
Near their window, two heads now hung upside down, staring intently at the trio.
Rubbing his temples, Xu Fengnian said wryly, “Mistress Tong, no need for alarm. They’re family.”
The old man gaped at Xu Fengnian, then at the two heads.
Even the unflappable Tong Shanquan’s jaw slackened slightly.
Clearly, Xu Ying and the giggling girl’s nocturnal appearance wasn’t well-received.
Jia Jiajia giggled three times, smirked, and vanished.
Xu Ying mimicked the laughter and disappeared too.
An awkward silence followed.
No one spoke.
Luckily, Su Su’s group descended from the third floor.
Su Su tutted. “Oh, Xu, already cozying up to another stranger under the moon? Busy man!”
Then, raising his voice, he said earnestly to Tong Shanquan, “Miss, don’t mind that lecher. He’s already got three wives and kids old enough to climb trees and rob birds’ nests!”
Xu Fengnian laughed angrily. “Scram!”
Su Su flipped his thumb down. “You first.”
Xu Fengnian made to stand, and Su Su bolted.
Wei Miao and the Miaojiang woman descended slightly later. The old man turned away with a loud snort, making Wei Miao abandon any greeting. The curvaceous Miao woman, however, threw Xu Fengnian a brazen wink and a thumbs-up.
The old man, who hadn’t touched his drink since Xu Fengnian’s return, reached for the jug, shook it—empty—and set it down irritably. “Young Master Xu, give it to me straight.”
Xu Fengnian said seriously, “How about we share two more jugs? Otherwise, I fear we won’t get to drink at all.”
The old man glowered. “No.”
Xu Fengnian pressed, “Tavern rules say anyone who drinks six jugs of Lüyi in a day gets their meal free. I just need one and a half more.”
The old man, ever the decisive veteran, barked, “Then drink!”
This time, it was Tong Shanquan’s turn to rub her temples.
With no waiters left on the second floor, Xu Fengnian fetched the two jugs from the counter himself, along with two plates of peanuts.
Jugs under his arms, plates in hand—he only lacked a white towel over his shoulder.
Watching him, Tong Shanquan murmured, “Grandfather, is this really him?”
The old man, who’d been spinning tales earlier, twitched his lips and said nothing.
They drank in silence.
Bored, Xu Fengnian occasionally tapped the table.
After finishing the two jugs in dull fashion, the old man swayed to his feet. “We’re leaving.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “I won’t see you out.”
The old man waved and strode off.
Watching Tong Shanquan’s retreating figure, Xu Fengnian called, “Mistress Tong, which of your sabers is the sixth-ranked ‘Wude’?”
She paused, resting her right hand lightly on one hilt.
Xu Fengnian said slowly, “A swift saber parts water—blade unharmed, water unmarked.”
Tong Shanquan repeated what she’d said when they first met.
“Thank you.”
※※※
The autumn of the third year of Xiangfu was eventful.
Princes Yan Zhao Bing and Shu Chen Zhizhuo rebelled, seizing half the empire south of the Guangling River. The court had no choice but to send Lu Shengxiang and Wu Zhongxuan south again. Minister of War Xu Gong replaced the ailing Cai Nan as military governor, overseeing all northern border forces between Northern Liang and the two Liao regions.
The court enfeoffed Xu Fengnian as Grand Pillar of the State, posthumously honoring fallen heroes like Liu Jinü and Wang Lingbao, and established two unprecedented deputy administrative and military posts in Northern Liang. Former Liangzhou Governor Lu Dongjiang became the second-highest civil official, while Xu Beizhi and Yang Shenxing shared deputy military governor duties.
At the Battle of Miyun Pass, Cao Wei and an obscure officer named Xie annihilated Zhong Tan’s cavalry, with only Zhong Tan and a dozen elite riders escaping. This victory forced the formerly neutral Lantuo Mountain, now allied with Northern Mang, to send 20,000 monk soldiers to reinforce Qingcang City in Liuzhou.
Yu Luandao led over 10,000 light cavalry past key border forts, striking deep into Northern Mang’s southern heartland, threatening Xijing and shaking both courts.
Rumors spread that the Northern Mang empress, enraged by the Miyun defeat, had taken ill, leaving Crown Prince Yelü Hongcai in charge. Elder statesman Yelü Hongcai was named Xijing’s chief minister, assisting the prince. Yelü Dongchuang, a royal clan member, was promoted to Xijing’s vice-minister of war and granted the title “Guardian General,” commanding four key forts including Junziguan and Wazhu.
Instead of pushing north, the rebel princes focused on consolidating their southern gains.
Just as the court assumed Prince Yan would declare himself emperor, a seismic shock rocked the empire: rumors claimed the two princes would enthrone Jing’an Prince Zhao Xun, renowned for his loyalty to the Zhao lineage, as emperor!
The world’s attention fixated on these staggering developments.
Meanwhile, Prince Yan’s heir, Zhao Zhu, remained quietly in the background.
Few noticed the hidden bloodshed beneath the surface in the small town of Bei’an that night.
True bloodshed leaves no trace.
Instead, it wears the mask of past warmth and shared struggles.
※※※
Alone on the tavern’s second floor, Xu Fengnian dozed on a bench.
When he opened his eyes, Liu Nirong stood beside the table.
Seeing it wasn’t the woman he’d expected, the young prince sighed in relief.
Even if their meeting was inevitable, delaying it—even briefly—was better.
Like the returning heir who knew his father was aging, but wished it could be slower.
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