Wudang Mountain had long been regarded as a blessed land for Xu Fengnian, a place of destiny where his martial cultivation had taken root. It was commonly believed in Beiliang that Xu Fengnian’s rise to becoming the strongest martial artist under heaven was largely due to his cultivation under the guidance of two successive Taoist masters during his years of sword training on this sacred mountain. Today, the Xixiang Pond at the waist of Wudang Mountain had become the new holy site for martial cultivation. Behind the waterfall, a stone hut was crowded daily with martial artists from all over the land, all seeking to meditate and sit in quiet contemplation, hoping to absorb even a trace of the invincible aura of the martial immortal. Fights often broke out over the limited space, causing great distress to the young Taoist apprentices responsible for maintaining the pond. They frequently complained to their master, begging for a transfer. Eventually, the Taoist Master Li Yufu assigned his disciple Yu Fu to take over the task.
Although Wudang opened the Xixiang Pond to the public, a small thatched hut and a modest vegetable garden near the deep pool remained strictly off-limits, guarded under the orders of the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion. Occasionally, the young Taoist Yu Fu would wander over to play in the hut, and the once-abandoned garden had begun to show signs of life again, with green sprouts peeking through the soil.
After parting ways with the Yan family, Xu Fengnian followed Li Yufu to the edge of the Xixiang Pond. As he revisited this familiar place, Xu Fengnian couldn’t help but chuckle when he saw a bustling crowd of martial artists emerging from tents, towels draped over their shoulders, rushing to the pond for morning ablutions.
Li Yufu smiled and nodded, “Yes, these martial artists generally don’t cause trouble. They manage their own food and lodging, and aside from practicing martial arts twice daily in the plaza, they cultivate here. Wudang cannot simply drive them away. Someone must have spread the tale of my junior master’s wooden sword cutting through the waterfall. In the past six months alone, over a hundred broken wooden swords have been fished out of the pond. Later, a new rumor claimed that the Prince attained his martial mastery after discovering a secret martial manual at the bottom of the pool. Since then, even those who couldn’t swim have become adept in the water. Though they didn’t find the manual, they retrieved hundreds of smooth, jade-like pebbles from the depths. Eventually, the martial artists pooled their resources, found a skilled craftsman, and crafted a set of exquisite go stones, which they presented to Wudang. The gift may not have been grand, but the sentiment was deep. Thus, we could no longer refuse their presence.”
Xu Fengnian had no words to reply. He knew the martial world well—those at the bottom were often both pitiable and endearing. He squeezed into an empty spot by the pond’s edge, flanked by two martial men clad in tattered, thin robes despite the chill of early spring. Xu Fengnian knew they weren’t immune to the cold—they were merely putting on a brave face. In the martial world, pride mattered more than comfort. If one wore furs for warmth in winter, others would stubbornly don thin robes, and the fiercest would even go bare-chested. It was the same in scholarly circles, where in the height of summer, some would don heavy robes and sing loudly to gain fame.
Xu Fengnian cupped a handful of cold water and splashed it on his face. The burly man to his left glanced over, surprised that a young scholar-like figure would join the crowd. He asked in martial jargon, “New here? Got a sect?”
Xu Fengnian nodded. A sect? Qingliang Mountain might count, after all. He smiled and asked, “With so many people crammed here, it’s not even comfortable to eat or sleep, let alone take a dump. Tell me, senior, has anyone really broken through to a higher realm here?”
The man nodded earnestly, as if the young man was finally speaking sense. He whispered conspiratorially, “Of course! Just a couple of days ago, a fellow broke through the threshold of the third realm overnight. His sword techniques were nothing special before, but after breaking through, his swordplay was so tight that not even a drop of water could pass through. Before that, an old master from Lanzhou came here to cultivate. He had been stuck at the third realm for over twenty years, but after meditating here for just three months, he broke through. They say after becoming a minor grandmaster, he let out a powerful, resonant howl on a full moon night. His voice was so strong that it could be heard for miles beyond the foot of the mountain, lasting half an hour, like thunder. Isn’t that amazing?”
Xu Fengnian suppressed a smile and nodded solemnly, “For an ordinary person, shouting for half an hour is impossible, even for a few minutes. And afterward, you’d be hoarse for a month. For a senior to howl for half an hour, his inner energy must be immense. He must have truly reached the minor grandmaster realm.”
The martial artist on Xu Fengnian’s right shivered slightly as he splashed cold water on his face and rolled his eyes, “Little brother, don’t believe everything Kong Xiaomao says. A clear, resonant howl for half an hour? That’s all made up. Who would be crazy enough to shout for half an hour? Besides, wouldn’t that old man be afraid of disturbing the sleeping immortals of Wudang? As for me, I don’t respect any minor grandmasters—only the Taoists on this mountain truly have skill. My grandfather’s grandfather personally saw the old master Huang Manshan, and my grandfather was once saved by Master Wang. I was there when Master Wang severed a river with a single finger. As for Master Li, just looking at his stance is enough to make me raise my thumb in admiration.”
Kong Dahu, whose real name was Kong Datiger but was mockingly called Xiaomao, turned to the thumb-raising man and laughed, “Come on, Xu Shiyin. You’re always bragging about your connection to the Beiliang Prince. Other than the fact that your surname Xu and his surname Xu sound the same, you’re worlds apart. You and him don’t share a single copper coin’s worth of relation!”
Xu Shiyin angrily threw his towel over his shoulder and glared, “My grandfather was one of the earliest soldiers to follow the General to Beiliang. I still have his armor and eight-dou bow at home…”
Kong Datiger laughed mockingly, “If your grandfather was really from the same place as the General, then how come you say your grandfather’s grandfather met the Wudang patriarch Huang Manshan? You’re just making up stories without even checking the facts!”
Xu Shiyin grew flustered and then angry, “My grandfather was one of the second wave of old soldiers from Liaodong. He followed the General in battles even before the Yonghui era. He could shoot an eight-dou bow while on foot, hitting eight out of ten shots. With a six-dou bow, he could hit seven out of ten. Even the General himself praised his archery skills, saying that when we reached Beiliang, the northern barbarians would learn of the might of Liaodong’s warriors!”
Kong Datiger scoffed, “I’ve heard that real sharpshooters are supposed to be one hundred percent accurate, or at least able to pierce a willow leaf from a hundred paces. If your grandfather only hit seven or eight out of ten, how could the General possibly praise him? Xu Shiyin, don’t you fear that your lies will choke you to death?”
An outsider might see only the spectacle, but an expert would recognize the truth. Xu Fengnian immediately gained newfound respect for Xu Shiyin. In the early days of the Liyang court, there was a law called the *Shifen Ma Yiye Chuguan Fa*, which evaluated martial candidates. By those standards, Xu Shiyin’s grandfather’s archery skills were indeed exceptional. The fact that Xu Shiyin didn’t exaggerate his grandfather’s feats made his words more credible.
Xu Fengnian asked, “Senior Xu, why didn’t you join the army?”
Xu Shiyin sighed, “My father wanted to study and pursue officialdom when he was young, but my grandfather didn’t approve, saying that studying was useless. My father had no choice but to join the border army, serving as a minor official at the Qianli Pasture. But he somehow offended a high-ranking official, who had an even more powerful patron—General Zhong Hongwu. When my father returned home, he was half-dead. My grandfather was a man of pride and never said a word about it before his death. But he always hoped that I, his grandson, would study. Unfortunately, I was never cut out for books. I only wanted to cultivate martial arts, just like my grandfather, to earn military merit and leave behind a set of armor as a family heirloom.”
He grinned, “I have an older brother who joined the army on the border of Youzhou. Last Spring Festival, he came home and told me he would soon become an official younu archer. My brother takes after my father—he excels in both study and martial arts.”
Xu Fengnian asked curiously, “If your father suffered injustice at the border, why would you let your brother join the army? Besides, Beiliang’s literary culture is growing. Studying can also lead to a bright future. And with the northern barbarians invading, being a soldier is dangerous.”
To everyone’s surprise, Xu Shiyin, usually so flippant, spoke with rare sincerity, “I don’t know what my brother was thinking at first. He wasn’t keen on joining the army, but after a few years, he no longer wanted to study at home. There’s even a girl back home who has been waiting for him, nearly turning into an old maid. Last year, my brother promised her that once he became the most elite younu archer among the thirty thousand border troops of Beiliang, he would return home and marry her in grand style. As for my father, when he first came home from the border, he did nothing but drink. He drank the most during my brother’s early days in the army, but in the past two years, he’s been drinking less and speaking less nonsense. Especially after the Spring Festival, he even quit drinking altogether. The last time he and my brother visited my grandfather’s grave, my father poured a libation…”
Xu Shiyin fell silent, lowered his head, and splashed more water on his face.
Though Kong Datiger and Xu Shiyin often teased and mocked each other, they were actually close friends. The martial artists who came to Wudang to seek blessings were a mixed lot, with various sects and factions. People like them, without noble backgrounds, couldn’t even dream of meditating in the stone hut behind the waterfall. Even the better spots around the pond were out of reach. Some sect disciples, with their strong connections, formed tight-knit groups, treating others with disdain. They feasted daily, surrounded by young female martial artists, and spent their nights indulging in revelry. Kong Datiger and Xu Shiyin could only watch from afar, enviously. The boldest among them would eavesdrop outside the tents, though they risked being beaten black and blue by the young masters of the orthodox sects.
Behind the three men, a commotion arose as people recognized Li Yufu, the Taoist Master of Wudang, and his disciple Yu Fu. They rushed forward to greet them. Li Yufu was known on the mountain for his kindness and lack of pretense. It wasn’t just a superficial charm—it was a genuine inner virtue passed down through generations of Wudang. The Wudang sect emphasized cultivating humanity before cultivating immortality, and self-cultivation before cultivating the Dao. This was the true spirit of Wudang.
Xu Fengnian and the others turned to look at the young Taoist Master. Kong Datiger whispered, “That’s Master Li of Wudang. He was once a disciple of the old immortal Yu Xingrui in the East Sea. Master Li has a gentle temperament. There are rumors that he once slew a dragon at the sacred Daoist site of Difei Mountain. His martial cultivation is profound. Some say the Beiliang Prince even petitioned the court to officially recognize Wudang as the ancestral temple of Daoism. I think that’s plausible. Before, I didn’t think much of the Prince, but when he refused to let the imperial decree enter Beiliang, it was a great joy to the people. Then, when he dealt with the arrogant old general Zhong Hongwu in Lanzhou, I felt the new Prince of Beiliang truly lived up to expectations. This time, when the northern barbarians attacked, I heard the Prince went straight to the border without hiding in Qingliang Mountain. That was a move that made us all proud! If the strongest martial artist in the world were to hide at home, it would shame Beiliang. We martial artists outside Beiliang wouldn’t even have the face to show ourselves!”
Xu Fengnian smiled helplessly.
Xu Shiyin murmured, “If the fighting at the border gets fierce, I’ll have my brother introduce me to the army. Killing one barbarian is breaking even, killing two is profit.”
Kong Datiger couldn’t resist mocking, “With your skills, you’d only lose. Do you really think the northern barbarians are easy prey? They’ve lived with bows and horses since childhood. Their archery and horsemanship are truly exceptional. You’d only be a waste.”
Kong Datiger suddenly sighed, “The Prince did something unfair—he gave all the treasures from the Tingchao Pavilion to the Grandmaster of Huishan. That woman in purple must be as beautiful as the rumors say, or else the Prince wouldn’t have been so generous. Still, couldn’t he have left a few scraps for us Beiliang martial artists? Not even top-tier manuals, just a couple of second or third-rate ones would have been enough.”
Xu Shiyin spat, “With your kind of spine, even if the Prince gave you a hundred manuals, you’d still dream in vain!”
Kong Datiger didn’t get angry, “Then how about you, Xu Shiyin? Sell me a few pounds of spine?”
Xu Fengnian interjected with a smile, “The nameless boxing method currently taught by Wudang is deeply profound. It embodies Hong Xixiang’s understanding of the Dao. I dare say that even if one spends a lifetime practicing only this set of boxing, regardless of whether they previously trained in swords or spears, it would benefit them for life. Forget about attaining immortality or reaching the first realm—those depend on one’s fate. But for strengthening the body, prolonging life, and bargaining with Yama for a few more years, this boxing method is certainly sufficient. In my opinion, even a hundred forgotten manuals from Tingchao Pavilion cannot compare to this universally accessible boxing method.”
Kong Datiger was skeptical, “Little brother, is this boxing method really that good?”
Xu Fengnian nodded, “It’s like a piece of writing filled with obscure and convoluted language. It may seem scholarly, but to the experts, it’s not truly valuable. Similarly, the more difficult a martial art is to learn, the higher its threshold, the better it may not be.”
Kong Datiger laughed, “That sounds nice, but is it really true? Are there any martial arts without high thresholds? Take the old sword saint Li Chungan’s Two Sleeves of Green Snake—how easy is that to learn? Or the sword techniques of the new sword saint Deng Ta’a—each stance is so profound even minor grandmasters can’t understand it.”
Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, “That’s precisely the brilliance of Wudang’s boxing method and the true meaning of Hong Xixiang’s Dao. To the world, the heavenly Dao is like a narrow, perilous path on Huashan Mountain—only a few dare to tread it. But Hong Xixiang’s Dao is like a wide, flat road that everyone can walk. As long as one persists, even with mediocre talent, one can go far.”
Kong Datiger was momentarily stunned, then pointed at him and laughed, “It sounds like nonsense, but it actually makes sense.”
Xu Shiyin solemnly patted Xu Fengnian’s shoulder, “Little brother, you have potential. You’ll surely become a famous martial artist in the future.”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Thank you for your kind words.”
As the three stood up, Li Yufu was still surrounded by people, unable to leave. The young Taoist apprentice who had come to the mountain during last winter’s heavy snow carefully observed Xu Fengnian from the periphery. For reasons unknown, the child felt an inexplicable mix of awe and subtle familiarity toward this mysterious man whom his master treated with such reverence. Still, fear outweighed respect, so the child remained hidden behind his master, never uttering a word to the stranger.
Just as Xu Fengnian’s gaze met Yu Fu’s and the young Taoist quickly looked away, a young nobleman in fine silks and furs approached stealthily. He stopped a few paces away, fists clenched, palms sweating. Behind him were a group of idle young men who had come to Wudang merely for leisure. They cared little for the Taoist Master or martial techniques, but the officialdom of the former three provinces of Beiliang, especially the sons of officials, had undergone a dramatic shift in their perception of a certain person. Among those who once competed in decadence and corruption, a consensus had formed: the most admirable act was for a prodigal son to reform and return to the right path.
The young nobleman, filled with disbelief, hesitated and asked timidly, “My name is Liu Yukun. My father is Liu Gongquan, the governor of Danyang County in Lanzhou.”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Your elder brother is Liu Yushan, the cavalry officer of the Longxiang Iron Cavalry? He once led a charge and personally beheaded twelve enemies?”
Liu Yukun, who was known for his arrogance among his peers, was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, trembling as if struck by lightning.
As the young master prepared to kneel, he saw the man gently shake his head. Liu Yukun immediately straightened his half-bent knees, unsure of what to do.
Last year, during the farcical events in Lanzhou’s officialdom, many veteran generals were forced to retire in public by a young man bearing the title of General of Lanzhou. They had revealed their scarred bodies, and Liu Yukun had been present, watching from afar. At the time, he hadn’t felt particularly moved. But when he later saw his older brother return from the border, a brother who had always looked down on him, and heard how his brother nearly broke ties with their entire family after their father, a scholar-official, made a few sarcastic remarks at the dinner table, and how his brother later drank with him for the first time, recounting the border battles and how his comrades had died bravely, Liu Yukun finally understood the weight of it all. That was why he had climbed Wudang Mountain in the cold early spring—to learn how the new Prince of Beiliang had once trained in martial arts.
Xu Fengnian had no intention of revealing his identity here. He exchanged a few words with Liu Yukun and then bid farewell to Kong Datiger and Xu Shiyin. He exchanged a glance with Li Yufu and walked toward the thatched hut with Lu Chengyan.
After he left, Kong Datiger and Xu Shiyin looked at each other in astonishment. How had that fellow managed to connect with the son of a county governor? Judging from the situation, he must have been of equal standing. How could he have the patience to chat with them for so long? Xu Shiyin’s lips twitched as he recalled how he had patted that man’s shoulder. He feared that these aristocrats, known for their smiling daggers, might turn around and throw him into the Xixiang Pond in a sack before he even became a martial master.
Liu Yukun, emboldened by observation, finally gathered his courage. Seeing the Beiliang Prince chatting and laughing with two poor martial artists, he hurried forward, raised an imaginary cup, and approached with a gesture of camaraderie, “Brothers, I’m Liu Yukun from Lanzhou. Fate has brought us together. I have some wine—authentic Lvyi wine. Why don’t we three have a drink together?”
Kong Datiger naively asked, “Noble sir, you’re not charging us, right?”
Liu Yukun helplessly smiled, “Are you trying to slap my face?”
Kong Datiger and Xu Shiyin, still dazed, followed Liu Yukun into his luxurious silk tent, still dazed as they drank the steaming hot Lvyi wine. Around them, a group of well-dressed young nobles watched with admiration, and several beautiful female martial artists gazed at them with shining eyes.
When they finally learned the man’s true identity, they stood there, stunned like wooden chickens.
In the fourth year of Xiangfu, the cavalryman Xu Shiyin fell in battle at the border, following in the footsteps of his older brother, who had served as a younu archer.
In the sixth year of Xiangfu, the infantryman Kong Datiger fell in battle in the Baoping Province of Beiman.
Before their deaths, both men smiled, dying without regret.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage