As winter faded into spring, orioles stealthily imitated the songs of a hundred birds. Along the roadside in Youzhou, clusters of green grass and budding trees teemed with flocks of tiny yellow orioles flitting about. However, the customs of Beiliang were rough and unrefined; no refined scholars paused to appreciate the melodious chirping of the orioles at the arrival of spring. A carriage slowly rolled northward on the road. Inside, a woman held an oriole nest she had plucked from a low branch, occasionally lifting the curtain to gaze at the passing scenery.
Throughout the journey, they rarely stopped in cities or towns to save time. With no villages ahead and no inns behind, the woman’s greatest embarrassment came with nature’s call. For the first time needing to relieve herself, she clenched her legs tightly, enduring with gritted teeth for half an hour. He, who had long sensed her discomfort, remained silent on purpose. When she could no longer hold back and finally asked to stop the carriage, upon returning after hastily attending to her needs, he told a cruel joke.
He said that once, an official had traveled incognito to gauge the people’s concerns. Unfortunately, in the wilderness, his stomach suddenly troubled him. Each time he felt the urge, he had his coachman search for a secluded spot to relieve himself. The coachman found several places, but each time the official undid his belt and squatted down, the urge vanished. Eventually, whenever the official asked if a spot had been found, the coachman simply replied, “Not yet.” Finally, unable to endure any longer, the official leapt from the carriage, running and hastily undoing his trousers until he could finally relieve himself. Upon returning, he marveled at the place, calling it a blessed land.
He added fuel to the fire by asking her if she had found such a blessed land. On her way back, she happened to pluck another oriole nest made of pine needles and grass spikes and, upon hearing his joke, hurled it at him. He effortlessly caught it with a circular motion of his hand and smiled as he returned it to her. To make amends, he shared a personal embarrassment of his own.
He recounted how, during his travels, he once entered a latrine and, hearing loud noises from the next stall, idly teased, “Brother, did you eat garlic?” Shortly after, the door of his stall was slashed open by a female swordsman whose face was as cold as ice, wielding her sword. He nearly fell into the pit in fright, hastily covering his crotch with his hands. The female swordsman then threatened to sever his three legs with a cold glare. “This is truly a case of misfortune from loose lips,” he said. “Had I not quickly let go and shown her a glimpse of my ‘mighty vigor,’ scaring her off, I would’ve surely been beaten soundly.”
As he spoke, a rare sense of smugness flickered across his face. Pei Nanwei looked at him, exasperated yet amused, and decided not to dwell on it. If even the esteemed heir of Beiliang had experienced such embarrassment, what need was there for her, a woman long removed from being a princess of a feudal lord, to pretend to be a female swordsman?
During their journey north toward the border, peregrine falcons frequently flew past the carriage, delivering secret reports. Xu Fengnian naturally did not disclose the critical military intelligence, but he shared harmless tidbits with her. For instance, Qingyang Palace’s Qingcheng King, Wu Lingsu, had recently been summoned to the capital for an official appointment, splitting the influence of the Celestial Master’s Mansion, which had previously held sole authority over the Taoist sects. With the power now divided, Qingcheng controlled the south while the Celestial Master’s Mansion retained the north.
The lofty Longhu Mountain, unable to bear this humiliation, soon unveiled its secret weapon. It was said that their sect leader, Zhao Danxia, had mastered the most profound Taoist technique, the Jade Emperor’s Pavilion, and, together with his father, the venerable Celestial Master Zhao Xi Yi, ascended to the heavens. Immediately afterward, the court approved the appointment of Zhao Danping, the “Qingci Chancellor” of the capital, as the new leader of the southern Taoist sect. Additionally, the young Taoist Zhao Ningshen was granted an unprecedented honor, becoming a court official known as the “Imperial Companion,” a position even more coveted than that of a Yellow Gate Official.
Another piece of news had nothing to do with politics but was purely a matter of the martial world. A nameless old swordsman who had long abstained from fighting finally drew his sword—not against the Martial Emperor City’s Wang Xianzhi himself, but against four of his most favored disciples. The first three, all considered prodigies, were unable to withstand the strike. Finally, the eldest disciple, Yu Xinlang, who had long been overshadowed by his juniors, blocked the strike with his blade, sending shockwaves through the martial world. This swordsman was immediately regarded as one of the few who could match General Gu Jiantang in a full-force battle.
Hearing these secret tidbits that stirred the martial world into a frenzy, Pei Nanwei remained indifferent, letting them in one ear and out the other, treating them merely as amusing anecdotes.
As they neared the border, the carriage made a brief stop in Qing’an County. Xu Fengnian Specially brought Pei Nanwei to a local teahouse to enjoy Qingjing rice, a specialty made by soaking rice in the juice of Nanzhu leaves, giving it a green hue and an enticing aroma. However, the large blue-and-white porcelain bowl used to serve the rice had a rim nearly a foot wide, leaving Pei Nanwei wide-eyed in disbelief. She managed to eat only a small portion before giving up. Xu Fengnian, on the other hand, devoured his bowl in a flash and unceremoniously took Pei Nanwei’s bowl, finishing it with great relish.
Xu Yanbing had not entered the teahouse earlier but appeared later, accompanied by a middle-aged man in silk robes. Xu Fengnian, still eating, waved at the man with an unusual appearance to sit down. The man bowed respectfully and said, “Your Highness, this humble servant greets you.”
After finishing his meal, Xu Fengnian leaned back lazily against the roughly made, uneven chair and teased, “Huangfu Ping, what ‘humble servant’ are you still referring to? You’ve already risen from a junior officer to become the general overseeing all military affairs in Youzhou. Are you adjusting well?”
Huangfu Ping, the newly appointed general of Youzhou, did not display the usual humility or fear expected of a general. Instead, he replied solemnly, “I will never let Your Highness down!”
Xu Fengnian nodded and said, “Chen Xiliang is managing the salt tax. If he hasn’t sought your help, don’t take the initiative. Let those unruly local strongmen run wild. When Chen Xiliang finally asks you for troops to deal with them, that’s when you act—don’t hold back.”
Huangfu Ping’s rise in the Beiliang administration was second only to Xu Beizhi, the governor of Linzhou, making him one of the prince’s most trusted men. However, the cost had been immense—his entire family had perished before his eyes. Such a man, consumed by an insatiable hunger for power, naturally earned a terrible reputation among the officials of Youzhou. Huangfu Ping had no allies in Youzhou; no one wanted to sit beside such a treacherous schemer. He was the perfect tool for covert operations—reliable only in the hands of Xu Fengnian, the only one with the authority to wield him.
Words could lead to missteps, and Huangfu Ping, a man who believed in trading merit for rank, always maintained a gloomy demeanor despite his success. Xu Fengnian, unconcerned about whether Huangfu Ping had eaten, ordered another bowl of Qingjing rice for him and smiled, “You’ve done well in consolidating the martial forces of Youzhou. My sister speaks highly of your efforts. I grant you the right to extend your influence into Liangzhou. Oh, and the meal is on you—consider it your duty as the host.”
Huangfu Ping stood to see the prince off, then sat back down and devoured his meal. As he left, he placed all his gold and silver on the table under the bewildered gaze of the teahouse staff, then strode away.
“Duty as the host!”
With all his gold and silver, he had just purchased control over the entire military authority of Youzhou—was it expensive or cheap?
As the carriage rolled out of Qing’an County, Xu Fengnian lay comfortably inside, legs crossed, letting out a satisfied belch. Pei Nanwei sneered, “Isn’t this infamous Huangfu Ping the very kind of man you claim has no Bottom line? Yet you use him so comfortably.”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “How do you know he has no Bottom line? Huangfu Ping, and even Chu Luxian, are not as simple as the world believes. They may be far from being good men, but compared to those so-called scholars who indulge in debauchery while preaching about the welfare of the people, they have more integrity. Those who think too highly of themselves often fail to see others as human. Those who don’t think too much of themselves, on the other hand, often retain a bit of childlike sincerity. To put it crudely, compare Wudang Mountain and Longhu Mountain, both Taoist holy sites. The Celestial Masters of Longhu Mountain, with their lofty airs, are untouchable, their doors open only to the powerful. The senior Taoist of Wudang Mountain, though lacking in divine aura, can chat with commoners as if they were old friends. Which of them do you think is more human?”
Pei Nanwei replied flatly, “I don’t want to hear it.”
Xu Fengnian sighed, “Everyone has their own burdens to bear—only the indifferent breeze knows the whole story.”
Pei Nanwei paused, then smiled, “I didn’t know you could be so sentimental.”
Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes, “I may be a poet who writes a hundred poems a year, you know.”
Pei Nanwei shot back, “Buying and copying poems counts?”
Xu Fengnian laughed, “If I hadn’t bought the poems of these poor Beiliang scholars with generous sums, do you think they’d have enough money to travel to the capital for the imperial exams?”
Pei Nanwei countered, “Has anyone ever spoken well of you or acknowledged your kindness?”
Xu Fengnian shrugged, a rare hint of embarrassment on his face, “Probably said it, but I didn’t hear it.”
Pei Nanwei scoffed, “Besides, Beiliang is poor, and the scholars are few. Yet you’ve handed them all over to the court. What a generous prince you are!”
Xu Fengnian patted his belly, which had just devoured two large bowls of Qingjing rice, and joked, “Generous indeed. But good deeds are rewarded. Now, nearly a thousand scholars from other regions have come to settle in Beiliang.”
Further north from Qing’an County in Youzhou lay the border town of Yanzhi County. It was called Yanzhi because of its famously beautiful women. Even in the Central Plains, the beauty of Yanzhi women was well known. Some elderly men in Jiangnan even considered it an honor to take a young Yanzhi woman as a concubine. Many beautiful women, unwilling to endure hardship, left the borderlands for the prosperous Central Plains, never to return. Some, unfortunately, fell into the red-light districts but never looked back, a phenomenon mocked by the court as “flowers blooming outside the wall.”
Yanzhi County, sharing the same name, was especially known for producing delicate and charming beauties. To marry a woman from Yanzhi County was considered a blessing of many lifetimes. Among the officials of Youzhou, not having a Yanzhi woman as a concubine or servant was considered a disgrace, making it hard to face one’s colleagues.
Pei Nanwei, perhaps tired of her cumbersome veil, discarded it upon entering an inn in Yanzhi County at dusk. Those who glimpsed her face were stunned by her beauty. It was the Lantern Festival of the first year of the Xiangfu era, a grand celebration where officials and commoners alike took to the streets to admire the lanterns. Compared to Linzhou, which had a grain reserve and was more prosperous, Youzhou’s lantern market was lively but lacked grandeur. The people dressed simply, without the luxury favored in Linzhou. Youzhou was neither the home of the Xu family nor the relatively peaceful Linzhou, and officials often joked that it was the stepchild of the region. Those with ambition and connections scrambled to Linzhou for profit, often bringing along a few Yanzhi women purchased at great expense as gifts to help climb the ranks. After all, giving silver was too vulgar, and giving too little could invite scorn. Giving a woman was both refined and practical.
Xu Fengnian and Pei Nanwei walked side by side, a picture of elegance and beauty. Under the lantern light, those farther away could not clearly see Pei Nanwei’s face, so she did not attract too much attention. However, those who had glimpsed her beauty lingered, unwilling to leave. They were not the ones who had won her, but they could still feast their eyes on another’s prize.
A few idle ruffians, emboldened by the crowd, tried to take advantage, but Xu Fengnian kicked them away with ease. They were mere cowards, too frightened to retaliate, especially since they had been in the wrong. They had planned to call for backup to confront the young master, but no one wanted to miss a moment of gazing at the woman, whose beauty rivaled that of celestial beings. In Youzhou, the authorities usually turned a blind eye to brawls, but during the Lantern Festival, the city guards would not hesitate to punish any troublemakers severely.
Three scholars walked ahead of Xu Fengnian and Pei Nanwei. By their accents, they were scholars from the Central Plains heading to Liangzhou, likely drawn by rumors of the beautiful women of Yanzhi County. They hoped to find a beautiful wife among the crowd. The atmosphere of Beiliang women was bold and unrestrained, and they might even find a fleeting romance.
The three young scholars had long noticed the beautiful woman behind them but, out of propriety and pride, refrained from approaching. Instead, they slowed their pace and spoke loudly, trying to outdo each other in conversation. One claimed to be related to an official in Linzhou and soon to take up a government post. Another hinted at secretly hoping for Beiliang’s downfall, eager to watch the court’s struggles. The third spoke of his lifelong dream of the borderlands’ martial glory, giving up a promising career to join the army in this harsh land.
Xu Fengnian listened to one scholar’s endless chatter about the rise and fall of the Western Chu and smiled. He quickened his pace and asked, “Young sir, how do you know the Western Chu’s restoration will end in failure within six months?”
The scholar, who indeed bore a touch of refined elegance, did not reply to Xu Fengnian. Instead, he cast his gaze toward Pei Nanwei and introduced himself, saying, “This humble youth is from the Fan Clan of Huansha Prefecture in Jiangnan.”
Xu Fengnian, ever the opportunist, feigned surprise and responded, “Huansha Prefecture’s Fan Clan—surely one of the most renowned aristocratic families from the old Southern Han! Who would have thought that Master Fan would come from such an illustrious lineage? There are scarcely a few families in Beiliang that could rival yours! I’m certain even our local governors would treat you as an honored guest. What an honor, truly an honor, to meet Master Fan!”
Another young scholar quickly followed suit, introducing himself as Zhou Clan of Shizao from the Eastern Yue Circuit. The last scholar, likely from a more modest background, remained sullen and silent. In truth, during the Spring and Autumn Period, both the Fan Clan of Huansha and the Zhou Clan of Shizao had grown quite extensive, yet they were by no means exclusive first-tier aristocratic families. Anyone bearing the surname Fan or Zhou in those regions could likely claim some distant kinship, and few truly regarded them with reverence. These two were clearly here in Beiliang, a land with a narrower perspective, to wave their banners and pass themselves off as something grander. In an era where even a servant from a wealthy household could discern one’s wealth from a mere belt, such clumsy pretense was hardly worth mentioning. They had clearly underestimated the discernment of Beiliang officials. Beiliang might be poor, but that poverty belonged to the common folk who toiled endlessly under the scorching sun and over the unyielding soil. As for the officials, they were certainly not destitute.
Xu Fengnian had originally intended to extract some amusement through conversation, but he hadn’t anticipated that Pei Nanwei’s words would truly be the ones to shake the heavens, as she scoffed, “What do I care what you lot are called? The only men I care for weigh over two hundred jin and are strong and sturdy! The three of you, scram and go cool off somewhere else!”
The three scholars were struck as if by thunder, not daring to utter a word, and slunk away in humiliation.
Xu Fengnian raised a thumb toward Pei Nanwei, who, smoothing a strand of hair beside her ear, turned with a slight smirk, her expression brimming with the rare confidence of a woman who had long refrained from action but now stood unmatched when she chose to strike.
Xu Fengnian, ever the provocateur, clicked his tongue in exaggerated admiration and said, “Beiliang must truly be a land of auspicious feng shui. Even Sister Pei has caught a whiff of that bold spirit.”
Pei Nanwei shot him a cold glare, then stomped hard on the toe of his shoe, twisting it cruelly.
Xu Fengnian, who yielded to softness but not to force, and certainly not to pain, muttered to himself, “Only half a year? Could it be that the combined efforts of Cao Changqing and Sun Xiji, two exiles from the fallen Western Chu, truly amount to so little?”
Pei Nanwei replied coldly, “Many will die.”
Xu Fengnian’s gaze turned icy as he spoke slowly, “Indeed, many will die. But you must also understand that among those who once belonged to Western Chu, there were many who shaved their heads and fled into monastic life, those who locked themselves away in cellars, those who vanished into the mountains to live as hermits, and those who went mad, crying out through the night that all were ghosts, ghosts. They lived lives worse than death. These souls, clinging desperately to memories of Western Chu, would rather drag their entire families into a glorious demise. Such foolishly loyal remnants, you don’t even know how to judge them.”
Pei Nanwei spat bitterly, “If they wish to die honorably, no one stops them. But don’t drag down the innocent common folk who only wish for peace and a quiet night’s sleep!”
Xu Fengnian chuckled, “I always thought you were dull and lifeless, like a female ghost haunting ancient temples deep in the mountains. Today, I finally hear you speak a few words that sound human. Why don’t you stay here in Yan Zhi Prefecture? Perhaps, in time, you’ll truly become a living, breathing person. And if you ever miss the reed fields by Tingchao Lake, you can always return to see them.”
Pei Nanwei replied without hesitation, “Fine.”
Xu Fengnian was momentarily taken aback. That simple word, so easily spoken, reminded him of a time when he, too, had said it to someone. But soon enough, he regained his composure, nodding with a smile as he said, “Then I suppose I’ll have to flaunt my status as the Crown Prince a little. I’ll speak to the Prefect and arrange a private residence for you, one free from disturbance.”
Xu Fengnian inquired his way to the Prefect’s residence, only to find that the Prefect himself had taken a large entourage of family members and townspeople to enjoy the festivities elsewhere. The gatekeeper, possessing a keen eye for character, noticed the young man’s distinguished bearing and invited him to wait in a side room. He waited nearly two hours, during which the gatekeeper, impressed by the youth’s patience, repeatedly offered tea and warm conversation. This, of course, was due to the indirect favor of Pei Nanwei, whose name on the Yan Zhi Beauty Register had earned them such treatment. When Prefect Hong Shandong returned in high spirits, he rubbed his eyes in disbelief. Though he had once visited the Beiliang Prince’s Mansion, he had failed to recognize the young nobleman, but he immediately recognized the “retainer” who could only stand—Xu Yanbing, the General’s personal bodyguard! Years ago, when the General had inspected the border, passing through Yan Zhi Prefecture, Hong had had the honor of meeting the man who had dined and drunk alongside the General himself, an image deeply etched in his memory. If even Xu Yanbing had to stand, then who was the young man seated there sipping tea? Hong Shandong was no fool. He immediately composed himself, swept his sleeve, and knelt with a loud thud, paying homage to the Crown Prince who had graced his humble home. A crowd of Hong family descendants gathered outside the small room, eyes wide. The older ones, already versed in worldly matters, felt a mix of awe and fear, while the younger ones gazed with innocent, childlike curiosity. Though the Prefect’s residence was no small establishment, the highest-ranking official they had ever hosted was merely the former General of Youzhou. How grand was the rank of a Crown Prince? When this young man one day donned the imperial yellow dragon robe and ascended as King of Beiliang, all of Liyang would understand its magnitude.
In a study thick with the scent of ink, a private conversation unfolded. Throughout, Hong Shandong dared not even glance at Pei Nanwei. Upon learning that this woman, whose status was not formally defined, would be residing in Yan Zhi Prefecture, he felt alarm rather than joy. Hong himself had no objection to treating her as a goddess to be revered; it was his duty, though perhaps not a feat worthy of praise. Yet history had long warned that beauty often brought calamity. If even the smallest mishap occurred, his previously smooth political career might come to an abrupt end. But since the Crown Prince had issued the command, Hong Shandong could only grit his teeth and force a smile of acceptance. That very night, the Prefect arranged a refined residence complete with hills and flowing water. Xu Fengnian, in turn, had the secret agent Yin discreetly contact the Yan Zhi Prefecture spies under the cover of darkness. Yin, a seasoned and feared operative, handled such matters with practiced ease, ensuring everything was executed flawlessly and without a trace. Then, Xu Fengnian abandoned the now unnecessary carriage, and together with Xu Yanbing, rode out of the city under the cover of night, heading toward the familiar Daoma Pass.
As Pei Nanwei descended from the carriage, she carried with her a veil hat. In this quiet residence, attended only by two elderly maids, she stood silently in the courtyard. Before retiring to her room for the night, she tossed the veil hat aside in the yard. While combing her hair before the dressing table inside, she caught sight of several boxes of finely crafted, precious face powders and sneered, “All just burdens.”
How many of these seemingly valuable items were truly worth their price?
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage