A man and a woman, generally at peace with each other, passed through Dongfeng County and approached Zhegui County. Xu Fengnian and Pei Nanwei rode side by side along a secluded mountain path. Another hundred miles east would bring them to the Tumen Pass, known as the natural barrier that controlled east-west movement and hailed as the most important fortress in Zhegui County. The saying went, “If Tumen Pass stands firm, so does Beiliang.” Garrisoned with elite troops, the commander of Tumen Pass, Xin Yinma, commanded six thousand elite soldiers and was undoubtedly a trusted general highly valued by the King of Beiliang. This time, as Xu Fengnian mobilized troops from various parts of Lingzhou, not a single soldier was dispatched from Tumen Pass, enough to show the extraordinary status of Tumen Pass within Lingzhou.
Xu Fengnian did not bring the six hundred riders led by Huang Xiaokuai, but instead took a detour to Tumen Pass for rest and resupply, only accompanied by Pei Nanwei and Xu Yanbing galloping along this secret mountain trail reserved solely for military use. In the past, some officials’ sons and military offspring would come here to race their fine steeds, but now, under a single decree, none dared to provoke trouble before the departure of the Lingzhou General. Pei Nanwei decided to step out of her carriage for fresh air because she came from a scholarly family and had heard how a poet emperor of a previous dynasty composed a poem lamenting the ancient glory of Tumen Pass, a poem that became the finest among all border poetry through the ages, giving rise to the name of Zhegui County. It was said that inscribed on the cliff ahead were the words of a swordsman, and thus she felt a stirring in her heart.
Xu Fengnian, his hands off the reins, closed his eyes in concentration, allowing his warhorse to gallop freely. Pei Nanwei, though an average rider, was fearless of falling. She took off her veil, wore a luxurious purple sable fur cloak, and rode a sleek black steed. Amid the snow-covered landscape, she seemed like a graceful butterfly or a peony swaying in the snowstorm.
When Pei Nanwei finally halted her horse to look up at the blurred cliff inscriptions, she found them rather underwhelming, somewhat disappointed. Especially when Xu Fengnian mentioned that along this trail alone, over two hundred thousand corpses had been left behind during the previous dynasty’s two hundred years of rule. This sent chills down her spine, and all her poetic musings vanished.
As dusk approached, the sky above was filled with relentless snowfall. The trail was silent and gloomy, and she clearly felt some fear. Trying to make conversation, she slowed her horse and asked the man beside her about the all-seeing spies of Beiliang, wondering why they couldn’t uncover the identities of that master and servant.
Xu Fengnian stretched out his hand, gathering a full palm of snow, and formed a small, perfectly round snowball. He spoke casually, “Good spies are rarer and more valuable than brave officers. They must endure years of loneliness, withstand countless schemes, remain absolutely loyal, work independently, sift through all kinds of information, and finally risk their lives to deliver the intelligence. Therefore, it takes at least five or six years to cultivate a competent spy you can trust. Many veteran spies either disappear or defect to the enemy. The difficulty lies not only in the challenges spies face in their work but also in the resilience required. Not everyone is willing to do this. In the past, under Chu Lushan’s command, in the thirty-odd states outside Beiliang, only four hundred spies were cultivated over twenty years. Half of them were long-term investments, spread across more than thirty states and two hundred counties—how many could be stationed in each county? Moreover, many valuable spies were lost last year to ensure the safe arrival of scholars in Liang. Furthermore, while we Beiliang strive to eliminate spies from both the Liyang and Beimang factions, the Zhao Gou and Zhuwang have never ceased their efforts either. In this three-way conflict, many lives are lost each year. It’s fortunate that Chu Lushan leads our intelligence efforts; anyone else in his place would have left Beiliang blind. Simply boasting thirty thousand iron cavalry isn’t enough to win major battles. Much of the success in the southern campaign was due to the intelligence provided by Beiliang spies. When I last went to Huangnan County, I was too focused on killing and vengeance, slaying a few double agents. Later, my sister scolded me for being a wasteful heir who doesn’t understand the value of resources. She wasn’t wrong.”
Xu Fengnian gently tossed the snowball into the distance and softly said, “This world is simply too vast. Finding one person is no easy task.”
Pei Nanwei glanced at him, unable to see the prince’s expression clearly, but she sensed an unusual loneliness in his demeanor.
The wind howled and the snow fell heavily. They were still dozens of miles from Tumen Pass. Normally, the distance wouldn’t seem long, but with the thick snow on the trail and their horses’ hooves sinking deep, even with her warm sable fur, Pei Nanwei began to feel the hardship. Her riding skills, in the eyes of an expert, were quite clumsy. Xu Fengnian glanced at the worsening weather, the snow falling heavier by the moment. With the wind against them, three riders struggled forward, but Pei Nanwei insisted on continuing alone through the stormy night. Xu Fengnian watched coldly as her horse suddenly slipped on the icy trail. Her hands, already numb with cold, could no longer grip the reins, and she fell onto the snow-covered path, rolling once but landing safely in the soft snow without injury.
Xu Fengnian pulled his horse around, extended a hand toward her, but she stubbornly stood up, turned away, and slipped her hands into the collar of her fur cloak to warm them with her body heat. Gritting her teeth, she mounted her horse again and continued riding. Xu Fengnian made no sarcastic remarks, but instead spurred his horse forward, riding ahead of her to shield her from the biting wind. When they finally saw the towering walls and flickering lights of Tumen Pass, Pei Nanwei, who had stubbornly persisted with sheer willpower, finally fainted from exhaustion and fell from her horse. Only then did Xu Fengnian lift her onto his horse and ride swiftly into the city.
The commander of Tumen Pass, Wei Shaqing, personally escorted and guided the prince to a simple and unpretentious official residence. When Pei Nanwei awoke with a throbbing headache, she found herself lying in a warm room. Her snow-soaked fur cloak had been removed, but her clothes remained intact. The Princess of Jing’an, who had narrowly escaped death, slowly regained some of her vitality. She turned her head and saw a brazier set up in the room, with a man seated with his back to the bed, brewing wine. The fragrant aroma of the wine filled the air. Pei Nanwei, feeling hungry, gathered her strength, put on a pair of new, warm boots, and sat beside him to warm her hands. Xu Fengnian pointed with his finger to a carved redwood food box on a nearby stool, indicating that she should help herself. Still, he kindly poured her a cup of hot, fragrant rice wine. Pei Nanwei lifted the lid of the food box and, without bothering with etiquette, began eating voraciously. After finishing the cup, she asked for two more. Soon, a deep weariness overcame her. Perhaps still wary of him, she fought against her heavy eyelids, refusing to go to sleep in the bed.
In truth, both of them understood—they were engaged in a silent bet, wagering on who would be the first to yield. Until then, they would maintain a truce, and she wouldn’t need to feign any false image of chastity and virtue. Pei Nanwei forced her eyes open, glancing sideways at him. His face, illuminated by the firelight, looked radiant. He had removed his outer robe, revealing a deep green soft armor so valuable that even Pei Nanwei, with her limited knowledge, could recognize its worth. She bit her lip to stay alert and asked in a hoarse voice, “Why did you choose to train with the saber?”
Xu Fengnian seemed momentarily lost in thought, then shook his head slightly, speaking in a calm tone. “If I told you it was just for fun, or that I once dreamed of being a hero who would draw his saber at the sight of injustice, you wouldn’t believe me. If I said it was for survival, you’d accuse me of taking my privileges for granted and feigning hardship.”
Pei Nanwei poured herself another cup of wine but didn’t drink it in one go as she had before. Instead, she held the warm cup against her cheek and smiled. “As for why you took up the saber, I believe the first reason more.”
She had finally found the mood for casual conversation, but Xu Fengnian, in contrast, seemed indifferent. He said indifferently, “I still need to travel tomorrow morning. You should rest. Don’t worry, I’ll leave once I’ve had enough sitting here.”
Pei Nanwei frowned slightly with her naturally alluring expression but still lay down on the bed, clutching the edge of the quilt. After a long silence, she turned over and looked toward the figure in the room.
Not long after, he used a pair of iron tongs to cover the coals with some ash, slowing the burn, then quietly rose and left the room.
Xu Fengnian arrived at the top of the Tumen Pass wall, where Xu Yanbing and Wei Shaqing stood at a distance, wisely not interrupting him.
※※※
The snow fell continuously throughout the night, and by dawn, the mountains were crowned with white.
A single rider and his servant passed unimpeded into Zhegui County. Since first entering the border of Beiliang, they had intimidated several groups of local troops, like ants scattering before a storm. After that, they moved as if through empty land. The henchman, possessing the strength of the Realm of the Indestructible, couldn’t help but ask, “Master, could it be that the Beiliang prince is so frightened that he’s hiding away? Does he really think hoisting a banner of truce will bring him peace?”
The elegant young master, gently tapping his palm with a folding fan, admired the snowy scenery along the way with a sneer. “Le Zhang, you truly think with your ass. Back then, when Han Diaosi didn’t kill you, was it because he thought you weren’t worth dirtying his hands?”
The burly henchman chuckled lowly, not daring to retort.
The young nobleman flicked his peach-blossom beauty fan open and shut with a smile. “That young prince isn’t cowardly enough to avoid a confrontation. But I still don’t hold him in much regard. I’m more interested in testing the left-handed saber technique of Bai Xiong Yuan Zong. The world knows Yuan Bai Xiong as the greatest mounted swordsman, but few know that he once dueled Gu Jian Tang in saber techniques. After that, he switched to training with his left hand, hoping to one day challenge General Gu. But to see that cavalry commander Yuan Bai Xiong, it won’t be easy. Even if the Beiliang Iron Cavalry within Lingzhou isn’t formidable, they still deserve respect. Let’s see what kind of welcoming party Xu Fengnian can put up. Le Zhang, if it’s just a few hundred riders making a minor show, you handle it. Remember, breaking arms and legs is fine, but no killing.”
Le Zhang twisted his neck, producing a sound like popping beans, and nodded with a sinister grin. “If that prince is stingy and sends just three or four hundred riders to casually deal with you, no matter how thick their formation, it won’t withstand my several charges.”
The young nobleman didn’t wear his saber at his waist but instead tied it with a crimson red rope, the other end fastened to his wrist, dangling loosely on the side of his horse, swaying gently.
Le Zhang glanced at the saber, his eyes filled with apprehension.
That was a legendary weapon, equal in might to the famed talisman blade Nan Hua, the number one blade in the world.
The name, whoever had chosen it, was not given much thought—it was simply called “Crossing the River.”
Le Zhang, after all, was a renowned figure in the Cult Sect. Sixty years ago, several Heaven Demons challenged the great Taoist master Qi Xuanzhen of Longhu Mountain at the Demon-Slaying Platform, but instead of dividing the world as they had hoped, they were all slaughtered. Since then, Zhulu Mountain had never recovered, gradually declining. Twenty years ago, Le Zhang, as an outer disciple of the Cult Sect, barely managed to rise as a top-tier expert. After reaching the first-grade realm, he grew arrogant and refused the invitation of the last surviving aged duke of Zhulu Mountain, choosing instead to raise his own banner with a group of followers, declaring himself the leader of the Cult Sect. He stirred up a storm in the martial world, but before he could achieve fame or dominate the Jianghu, he was confronted by a eunuch dressed in bright red Python Robe. This “Cat Man” came alone, and except for Le Zhang, everyone else was skinned alive. If Han Diaosi hadn’t spared him to use as bait to locate Zhulu Mountain’s secret site, he would have died too. But after that, Zhulu Mountain no longer wanted him, and Le Zhang lived like a rat in the streets, constantly fearing that the Cat Man would dispose of him as useless. When news of Han Diaosi’s death reached the capital last year, he wept with joy, thinking about making a comeback. But then he was soundly defeated by the young nobleman before him, who claimed to be from Zhulu Mountain. The young man could even wield the Fangcun Thunder of General Gu, and he displayed many secret techniques from the Wujia Sword Tombs and Dongyue Sword Pools that were rarely seen. Le Zhang’s own treasured techniques, after being observed once by the young man, were casually adapted and used against him. Even though Le Zhang was a first-grade expert, how could he not be terrified?
Le Zhang had to admit defeat. Indeed, there were martial geniuses once in a century. In the past, there were seniors like Wang Xianzhi and Li Chungan, and in the future, it would likely be the young master of the saber “Crossing the River.”
The young nobleman looked up as a falcon soared overhead, his charming smile widening. He murmured to himself, “You’re a bit late in coming.”
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