Since Hezhou bordered the Northern Liang region, ever since that “Butcher King” was enfeoffed there, it had resembled a long-suffering wife who had endured over twenty years of oppression. Now that the wife had changed households, it seemed she could finally raise her voice a little. Thus, the military governor of Lianghuai, Cai Nan, personally led his army to deploy along the border between Youzhou and Hezhou, determined to intercept the cavalry that had left the prince’s domain without permission. The last time the eight hundred Fengzi Battalion had passed through unhindered, the flood of memorials impeaching him, a border general of the Liyang court, had been as thick as snowflakes. Cai Nan knew full well that he could turn a blind eye to the eight hundred White Horse Righteous Retinue, but this time, with a massive force of ten thousand iron cavalry, if they were allowed to charge straight into the Central Plains again, not only would the censors of the Liyang court refuse to let it go, but even the Zhao family’s emperor might question the loyalty of this border official. Moreover, this time, the military commissioner Han Lin had also given his approval. Even this refined civil official, who had reached the pinnacle of local power, dared to risk his life by donning his official robes and personally joining Cai Nan’s army to help block the advance. Clearly, this newly appointed commissioner, whose roots lay in the capital, was willing to risk his life to demonstrate his unwavering stance against Northern Liang’s might.
On the border, General Cai Nan, clad in heavy armor, held his spear and gazed into the distance.
Beside him, Commissioner Han Lin wore a complex expression. The second-rank official, unaccustomed to riding for years, ignored the burning pain in his legs, his face filled with anxiety. When news arrived of Northern Liang mobilizing its cavalry beyond the pass, Han Lin and Cai Nan shared the same shock and anger, but with subtle differences. Cai Nan believed the unruly young prince was finally rebelling, while Han Lin, who secretly maintained covert ties with Qingliang Mountain, thought Xu Fengnian had lost his mind. Known for his gentleness in the capital’s political circles, Han Lin had spent the previous two days pacing like an ant on a hot pan, unable to sleep. Besides submitting a secret memorial that would reach the emperor’s desk, the commissioner, renowned for his elegant prose and concise official documents, also wrote a somewhat rambling personal letter. At the time, Han Lin understood that this so-called “family letter” was effectively his last will. Whether Xu Fengnian was mad or not, if he stood in the way, the fragile ties of past goodwill would shatter under the slightest scrutiny. But how could Han Lin not be here? His elders, children, and entire family were in Tai’an City, under the emperor’s roof, their honor and disgrace tied to his actions. He had no choice but to be here.
As a refined civil official from the capital, Han Lin harbored no dislike for Cai Nan, whom capital officials viewed as a “country bumpkin” mired in local politics, but neither did he feel any closeness. Thus, during his posting, Han Lin’s interactions with Cai Nan had been minimal. Apart from the welcoming banquet where Lianghuai’s high-ranking officials turned out in full force, Han Lin had never met Cai Nan privately. This wasn’t just out of fear that the court might suspect collusion between civil and military leaders—deep down, compared to the rough-edged Cai Nan, the young prince, notorious for his wild youth, seemed far more “refined” in Han Lin’s eyes. Yet today, riding side by side with Cai Nan, Han Lin felt a sense of shared peril and camaraderie, realizing that Cai Nan might not be as despicable as the capital’s political circles made him out to be.
It seemed that in just twenty years, Liyang had shifted from valuing martial prowess over civil arts to the opposite.
Cai Nan turned his head and asked with a smile, “Commissioner Han, has the Prince of Han given any response?”
Han Lin forced a bitter smile. “On the second day of the New Year, I personally visited the Prince of Han’s residence and saw him bedridden, pale-faced, struggling repeatedly to rise only to collapse back onto the bed.”
Cai Nan, usually unreadable, clicked his tongue and said, “To have such a loyal border prince is truly a blessing for Lianghuai and the court.”
Han Lin consoled him, “General Cai, what’s done is done. There’s no use dwelling on it.”
Cai Nan laughed heartily. “When a man faces death, can’t he at least grumble a little?”
Han Lin gazed at the vast white landscape and sighed. “Had I known it would come to this, I should have shared a few drinks with you, General Cai. Drinking cheap liquor on a snowy night with a friend might have tasted like fine wine.”
Noticing the general staring intently at him, Han Lin asked in confusion, “Is something wrong?”
Cai Nan suddenly spoke softly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just hope that after today, you’ll look after my family, young and old.”
Han Lin, utterly baffled, was about to ask more when darkness abruptly swallowed his vision, and he fainted.
Cai Nan watched as his trusted guard struck Han Lin’s head with the hilt of his sword. Once the guard leaped onto the commissioner’s horse to steady his collapsing body, Cai Nan said, “Take Han Lin back to his residence.”
The aging guard hesitated, wanting to speak but holding back.
Cai Nan smiled. “Old Song, back when Xu Xiao led ten thousand cavalry south to patrol the border, I, as the commanding general, knelt first, shaming all of you in the eyes of the court. I know you and the other old brothers resented me for it. For the past two years, every New Year’s visit, the chairs in my house might as well have had nails—you all left in a hurry. That’s fine.”
Without turning his head, Cai Nan pointed his whip toward Youzhou. “This time, I just want to tell you old brothers: it wasn’t that I cowered before Xu Xiao’s ten thousand cavalry—no. As a soldier, I genuinely admired that great general. And I wasn’t alone; even our General Gu admired him. So now, with Xu Fengnian leading ten thousand Northern Liang cavalry—still a Northern Liang king, still the same ten thousand Snow Dragon Cavalry—I won’t grovel again. Old Song, of all our brothers, your family is the largest, and they rely on you the most. Don’t stay with us this time. Besides, Qingming Festival is just a few months away. It wouldn’t do if none of us old brothers had a living friend to bring good wine to our graves.”
The burly guard, who had followed Cai Nan and Gu Jian Tang through decades of campaigns, gaped but couldn’t utter a word.
Cai Nan barked, “Get the hell out of here!”
The guard lowered his head, turned his horse, and galloped away with a fierce crack of his whip.
Behind him, Cai Nan’s teasing voice followed: “Remember, when Qingming comes, don’t be the stingy old iron rooster even General Gu heard about—bring good wine!”
The guard didn’t turn back, only suddenly roared, “No! I’ll bring you the cheapest swill—two coins a jug! If you’re so tough, dig yourselves out of the grave and come get me!”
Cai Nan, facing away from the guard and the two riders, exhaled softly and let his smile fade.
Since the start of spring in the third year of Xiangfu, the snow had fallen endlessly—from the sky, and now, from the earth in the distance.
The Snow Dragon Cavalry had arrived.
Northern Liang’s cavalry was the finest under heaven, and the Snow Dragon Cavalry was the finest in Northern Liang.
Cai Nan bellowed, “Sound the drums!”
※※※
Long before the White Horse Righteous Retinue left the city, Northern Liang’s civil and military officials had gathered atop the walls to bid them farewell. Further away, the ten thousand cavalry had already slipped past the pass unnoticed, waiting outside the city for the second-generation Northern Liang King’s order. After nearly twenty years, they were about to gallop into the Central Plains once more.
The Xu family’s cavalry, which had shaken the world during the Spring and Autumn wars, had once swept unhindered from north to south and back again. Now, their hooves were heading south once more.
This maneuver, initiated by Xu Beizhi and Chu Lushan, hadn’t been without opposition. Three highly respected veteran generals—He Zhonghu, Chen Yun Chui, and Gu Dazu—had been unwilling to see the Northern Liang army plunge into the Central Plains at this time. But Yuan Zuozong and Yan Wenluan’s joint approval had been decisive, especially Yan Wenluan’s unexpectedly firm stance, which swayed many of the veteran officers.
The hulking Northern Liang Protector Chu Lushan stood beside the frail-looking Yan Wenluan, a sight so incongruous it made onlookers uncomfortable.
Chu Lushan stamped his feet lightly, cupped his hands, and exhaled into them, then grinned down at the old general. “I truly didn’t expect you to agree, Elder Yan. I thought I’d have to make the trip to Youzhou myself. The thought of traveling from Huaiyang Pass to Xiaguang City in this damned weather had me sweating.”
The gaunt old man, showing his age, retorted irritably, “When you led eight thousand Yeluohe cavalry to block Dong Zhuo’s private army, you didn’t seem to mind the jostling ruining your autumn fat!”
Chu Lushan chuckled. “Good deeds for glory and wicked deeds for infamy—how can they be compared?”
Yan Wenluan curled his lip. Among Northern Liang’s old-school generals, almost none liked the notorious Chu Lushan.
The arrogance and brutality of Northern Liang’s military officers, from Chu Lushan down to figures like Li Mofan and Cao Xiaojiao, were cut from the same cloth. They fought fiercely without hesitation, but in terms of character, could they truly be called good men? The answer was obvious.
This was, in fact, a deadly knot left by Great General Xu Xiao for his successor, Xu Fengnian. After over a decade of peace in Northern Liang, the descendants of military families had proliferated like weeds. How many atrocities had they committed? To cite just one example, among those standing on the city walls was former Deputy Infantry Commander Liu Yuanji, whose three sons had killed countless innocent civilians. If not for Lin Doufang, an old comrade who had long left the military, exposing the truth during the turmoil beyond the pass, the old commander might have died believing his sons were merely mediocre. Even upright veterans like Yan Wenluan harbored grievances about the younger generation’s corruption. But during Xu Xiao’s time, the great general had always felt indebted to his old comrades and never resorted to harsh measures. Moreover, the young prince’s own earlier roguish behavior had made Xu Xiao even more inclined to “understand” such behavior.
Yan Wenluan got straight to the point. “What you did on New Year’s Eve was well executed. But even so, I still don’t like you, Chu Lushan.”
Chu Lushan rubbed his hands together and grinned. “Elder Yan, you’re no beauty. An old codger like you liking me isn’t exactly flattering.”
Yan Wenluan snorted and fell silent.
On the crowded city walls, Gu Dazu stood out conspicuously in his solitude. The “Brocade Partridge” Zhou Kang hesitated, then left Lin Doufang’s group to approach Gu Dazu, though he kept a distance of one body length between them.
Gu Dazu showed no intention of speaking first.
After several hesitations, Zhou Kang suppressed his anger and didn’t leave. His tone was stiff as he sneered, “Deputy Commander Gu, aren’t you always so principled? You clearly opposed His Highness leading the army south. Why did you stay silent last night?”
Gu Dazu smiled faintly. “Commander Zhou, what answer do you want to hear? Should I admit I was swayed by the wind, acting like a fence-sitter, to make you happy?”
Zhou Kang was equally blunt. “If you say that, I’ll go drink as soon as I leave these walls.”
Gu Dazu replied calmly, “Then I’m afraid I’ll disappoint you. My reason for not opposing His Highness isn’t some noble justification, but neither is it some despicable calculation. At my age, I no longer need to prove anything to Northern Liang.”
The Brocade Partridge tilted his head, dug at his ear, and scoffed. “Now that sounds like the Deputy Commander Gu I know. Pity His Highness has already left the city.”
Gu Dazu murmured to himself, “What old man wasn’t young once? Who hasn’t yearned for a woman they couldn’t have? I once did. But I missed my chance, so even at this age, I still don’t know if we were truly unsuited or if I just lacked the courage. You, Commander Zhou, are famously devoted to your wife. You wouldn’t understand.”
Zhou Kang was silent for a long time before exhaling heavily. “After decades of marriage, respect replaces passion. But in my youth, I too knew the fire of reckless love.”
Gu Dazu sighed. “At least you experienced it. That’s more than I can say.”
Suddenly, Zhou Kang turned and shouted at the top of his lungs, “Lin Doufang! Didn’t you elope with some Southern Tang princess back in the day? Deputy Commander Gu here says he fancied her too—sounds like they had some ambiguous history! Why don’t you two have a chat?”
Lin Doufang’s eyes bulged. “What?! Gu, you better explain yourself!”
Liu Yuanji immediately perked up, nudging Wei Tieshan. “Now this is getting interesting.”
Gu Dazu was dumbstruck.
By the time he recovered, the Brocade Partridge had already fled, leaving only a distant silhouette.
Seeing Lin Doufang storming toward him, Gu Dazu bolted down the city walls without a word, yelling, “Zhou, if I don’t beat you to death today, I’ll take your surname!”
As the two vanished into the distance, Lin Doufang stopped and burst into laughter.
He wasn’t foolish enough to believe Zhou Kang’s nonsense.
Yu Luandao stood beside Hu Kui. Like Xu Beizhi and Tian Peifang, who had already resigned or were about to resign as prefects, Hu Kui would soon vacate his position as Youzhou’s prefect. Unlike Xu Beizhi’s strategic considerations or Tian Peifang’s passive compliance, Hu Kui had never aspired to civil office, his gaze fixed firmly on the battlefield beyond the pass. He wasn’t alone—even Youzhou’s general, Huangfu Ping, seemed restless, eyeing a transfer to Xiaguang City. During this trip to Liangzhou with veteran commander Chen Yun Chui, the old man had dropped hints that Youzhou’s infantry needed a capable young general. Though Chen Yun Chui hadn’t spelled it out, he clearly hoped Hu Kui would take up the role of Youzhou’s third-ranking infantry officer and seize the chance to speak to the prince before Huangfu Ping could. But in the end, Hu Kui remained silent, earning him the old man’s cold shoulder all day.
The Northern Liang border army today still has its various factions, though they are no longer as clearly demarcated as in the early years. With the conclusion of the first Liang-Mang war, subtle changes have naturally taken place. For instance, Chen Xiliang and the entire Longxiang Army have formed a strong bond, earning the respect of veteran generals like He Zhonghu and Zhou Kang, who regard this young man as a rare scholar with unyielding integrity—someone who could excel as a military strategist even if he weren’t a civil official. Meanwhile, Xu Beizhi has grown close to figures like Han Laoshan, the deputy general of Lingzhou, and Wang Zhi. It could be said that the entire Lingzhou military faction regards Xu Beizhi as one of their own. Yu Luandao, who truly rose to prominence in Youzhou, gets along best with Hu Kui, showing little interest in befriending Huangfu Ping, the prince’s confidant.
Not far from the two stood Huangfu Ping and Kou Jianghuai, shoulder to shoulder. Though both now held the rank of provincial generals, their backgrounds and reputations were worlds apart.
Huangfu Ping couldn’t quite understand why Kou Jianghuai was willing to associate with him, a notorious “loner” in the political arena.
Kou Jianghuai leaned on the battlement with a grin, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. “General Huangfu, the Northern Liang border army is full of capable men, but I think you and I are the most alike—not only do we dare to gamble, but we don’t settle for small stakes. We go all in.”
Huangfu Ping shook his head. “I’m just a reckless martial artist by origin. Even if I bet everything I own, it wouldn’t amount to much. I can’t compare to General Kou, who was once poised to become a marquis or even a chancellor in Western Chu.”
Kou Jianghuai also shook his head. “If I bet a thousand taels of gold, I’d put every last coin on the table. If you were starving tomorrow with only ten coins to your name, you’d still stake all ten. The size of the gamble doesn’t matter—what matters is the willingness to risk it all.”
Huangfu Ping said something cryptic. “Perhaps the size of the gamble doesn’t matter, but I wonder what kind of gambler Kou Jianghuai truly is?”
Kou Jianghuai turned to look at the Youzhou general, whose reputation in Northern Liang was mixed at best, and asked with a smile, “What’s this? Are you worried that if I betray the prince today, I might defect to Northern Mang tomorrow?”
Huangfu Ping’s expression remained unchanged. “General Kou, I never said that, nor would I dare.”
Kou Jianghuai laughed it off and asked, “After hearing your story, I’ve been curious—why are you so fiercely loyal to Xu Fengnian? Care to enlighten me?”
Huangfu Ping smirked without warmth. “General Kou, I’m not one for pleasantries, so don’t take offense. You and I aren’t close enough for that. But if we ever fight side by side on the battlefield, then maybe we can exchange a few heartfelt words.”
Kou Jianghuai grinned. “Oh? Is General Huangfu about to become the deputy commander of the Longxiang Army in Liuzhou?”
Without waiting for a reply, Kou Jianghuai answered his own question. “A transfer from Youzhou general to Longxiang deputy would be a lateral move in rank, but in Northern Liang, the cavalry of Liangzhou’s border army looks down on the infantry, the border infantry scorns the Youzhou troops, and the Youzhou troops, in turn, disdain the Lingzhou army, which doesn’t even have a proper border to defend. The Longxiang Army, as an elite force drawn from Liangzhou’s border cavalry, wields real power—far more than a constrained Youzhou general. So let me congratulate you in advance on your promotion. It seems I won’t have to wait long to hear your ‘heartfelt words.’”
Huangfu Ping glanced subtly at Hu Kui, the corner of his lips curling. “General Kou is as sharp as ever.”
Kou Jianghuai beamed. “I like hearing that. It’s been a while since someone praised me to my face.”
Huangfu Ping nodded. “Just so you know, once I take up my post in Liuzhou, you might hear more than you bargained for.”
Kou Jianghuai laughed heartily. “Bring it on.”
Suddenly, Kou Jianghuai—who had been getting along famously with Huangfu Ping—heard someone call his name. It was Yu Luandao, the man he considered his lifelong rival. Unlike his lukewarm attitude toward Xie Xi’chui in Guangling, Kou Jianghuai harbored a deep dislike for Yu Luandao, another scion of a noble family and a prodigy who had risen to fame young. The feeling was likely mutual—after all, two tigers could not share one mountain. Their rivalry, however, remained beneath the surface. Hearing Yu Luandao’s call, Kou Jianghuai turned with a smile. “What can I do for you, General Yu?”
But it was Hu Kui who spoke, stepping closer and asking softly, “Kou Jianghuai, regarding Western Chu’s three strategies—northward advance, southward expansion, or westward push—I’ve pondered for a long time but hesitate to draw conclusions. I’m not from Western Chu, and having been away from the Central Plains for over a decade, I lack your grasp of the situation. Would you enlighten me?”
Without hesitation, Kou Jianghuai replied bluntly, “If I were in charge of Western Chu, I’d head north and fight Lu Shengxiang to the death. Off the record, I’ve long suspected that Cao Zhangqing reached some understanding with Gu Jian’tang of the Two Liao and even Wang Sui of Northern Mang. If Xie Xi’chui were in Cao’s place, he’d likely cross the Guangling River southward, doing everything to defeat the Southern Frontier army—already weakened by Wu Zhongxuan’s defection—and then aim for a divided rule. If even the Guangling River couldn’t be held, he’d retreat further into the miasma-ridden Ten Thousand Mountains, waiting until Northern Mang and Liyang exhausted each other before emerging to scavenge for scraps. But in the end, success wouldn’t depend on strategy—only on fate. As for Cao Zhangqing’s own thoughts? I can’t fathom them, nor do I care to. Frankly, I think the man’s gone mad.”
Hu Kui, a warrior born for the battlefield, was hooked. He began gesturing along the battlement. “Western Chu is now surrounded. To the east is Song Li, the usurper. To the south is the newly mobilized Prince Yanchi, Zhao Bing, backed by Nalan Youci. To the west is the formidable force of 100,000 elite troops under Wu Zhongxuan, now Liyang’s Minister of War, with ample supplies and reinforcements. Even Jing’an Prince Zhao Xun, along with Governor Wen Taiyi and Commander Ma Zhongxian, seem to have become his logistical support. To the north, Lu Shengxiang has reverted to his early war tactics, fighting without rules, while Chen Zhibao and his elusive 10,000 Shu infantry add to the pressure. So, General Kou, if you advocate heading north, how would you fight? Target Chen Zhibao’s infantry first, or seek out Lu Shengxiang’s cavalry? If Xie Xi’chui were to march south, wouldn’t that play right into Liyang’s hands, letting them pit enemies against each other—”
After his lengthy analysis, Hu Kui looked up to see Kou Jianghuai rolling his eyes. With a self-deprecating chuckle, Hu Kui dropped the subject.
Kou Jianghuai laughed carelessly. “Ah, Lord Hu, Lord Hu… Here I am, a Western Chu refugee hiding in Northern Liang, no longer concerned with the war in Guangling. Why trouble yourself with it?”
Hu Kui wasn’t offended. He smiled frankly. “General Kou, I suppose I’ve been worrying over nothing.”
Yu Luandao frowned.
Kou Jianghuai raised an eyebrow, flashing him a challenging look.
In Northern Liang, the civil officials had their rivalries—Song Dongming and Bai Yu, Xu Beizhi and Chen Xiliang. Now, it seemed the military had its own pair of adversaries: Kou Jianghuai and Yu Luandao.
※※※
In the spring of the third year of Xiangfu, as firecrackers echoed across the Central Plains and red paper scraps still littered doorsteps, untouched by brooms…
Ten thousand Snow Dragon Riders marched south.
Alongside the eight hundred Fengzi Battalion were the hundred swordsmen of the Wu Clan.
Among them were Yuan Zuozong, Yu Luandao, Hong Biao, and Hong Shuwen.
And leading them all—the Prince of Northern Liang.
Xu Fengnian.
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