Zhao Ningshen, reverted to his original form, stood motionless on the surface of the Spring God Lake, his expression dazed and soul seemingly lost. His crimson robe swirled violently around him like a glutton devouring a delicacy. Xu Fengnian ignored this young Taoist who had gone to great lengths to summon the first Celestial Master. Stepping onto the head of a giant qing yuan, the colossal beast paddled toward the lake’s center. The hundred-zhang golden form of the True Martial Emperor turned accordingly, facing the Qingzhou naval forces, closing the distance to mere miles. Xu Fengnian raised his foot, and the golden form mirrored him, lifting its foot as if to crush everything beneath it.
The naval warships formed an arc around the southern shore of Spring God Lake, with the Yellow Dragon flagship at the forefront, carrying Prince Jing’an Zhao Xun. As the golden foot descended, impending doom struck the fleet. Most of the naval soldiers had already collapsed to the ground, surrendering to fate. However, the prince’s personal guards, though their hearts quaked with terror, leapt into action, attempting to shield their young lord from this divine step. In a flash, swords and blades flew, twenty men attacking the True Martial Emperor, but all were crushed under the overwhelming force of the descending foot. Zhao Xun, pale-faced, clutched the icy hand of the woman beside him, gazing helplessly into the sky.
Just as Zhao Xun believed death inevitable, a pure white Taoist robe streaked across like a dragonfly skimming water, hopping from banner to banner atop the warships, soaring to meet the descending foot. Shouldering a mountain’s weight, the young Taoist managed to halt the foot’s descent momentarily. Xu Fengnian hesitated but continued his step. The golden foot followed, crushing the Taoist down onto the Yellow Dragon flagship. Bloodied and battered, the Taoist gritted his teeth, saying, “Your Highness, do not rely on heavenly might to slaughter mortals. Heaven’s justice is clear. Even if the Xuanwu’s divine form serves you momentarily, both the Celestial Court and the True Self shall…”
Xu Fengnian remained expressionless, continuing his descent. Forced to kneel on the flagship, the warship began to sink, leaving only Zhao Xun’s level above water. After catching his breath, the Taoist braced himself, resisting the golden foot with all his might, whispering urgently to Xu Fengnian, “A wandering swordsman from Huabei, He Zhu, has risked his life to deliver a message to you. He is now racing toward Kuai Xue Villa, his life hanging by a thread. The message concerns a young lady surnamed Jia…”
Xu Fengnian furrowed his brow and withdrew his foot. The True Martial Emperor’s golden form finally dissipated, and the nameless stone tablet on the qing yuan’s back cracked inch by inch. Xu Fengnian looked back, his expression complex. This contest, seemingly between Zhao Ningshen and Xu Fengnian, two young martial artists, had invoked the ancient founders of Longhu Mountain and the supreme divine form of the True Martial Emperor. Both sects had poured their strength into this moment. Though Zhao Ningshen’s cultivation and Longhu Mountain’s heritage could have sustained the ancestor’s presence for three incense sticks, Xu Fengnian’s divine form barely lasted half a stick. Yet, once gone, there was no return. Still, Xu Fengnian harbored no regret. He had memorized the ancient inscriptions on the tablet and copied them for his teacher, Li Yishan, who spent a year deciphering them while Xu was in the Northern Wilderness. Li had set up a grand celestial ritual across Wudang Mountain’s eighty-one peaks, one of which was meant to counter the summoning of Longhu Mountain’s ancestor. Xu’s original plan had been to lure the celestial being Zhao Huangchao to Spring God Lake, aiming to sever both celestial and dragon threads. Zhao Ningshen had merely stumbled into this, forcing Xu to reveal his hidden advantage prematurely. Yet, Xu bore no regret. The Zhao families of Longhu Mountain and the imperial court were intertwined, sharing fate and fortune. This was merely a warning to the master through his dogs.
Xu Fengnian glanced at the young Taoist master of Wudang, kneeling respectfully as the golden form vanished. He felt no ill will toward the young Taoist; blocking his foot had been an act of goodwill in the long run. Taking a deep breath, Xu pressed his hand to his forehead. After the pain, his mind went blank, as if he had forgotten something crucial, yet it eluded him. Xu shook his head. Li Yufu, staggering to his feet, whispered, “He Zhu is gravely wounded, his body riddled with sword qi. I’ve barely kept him alive. He won’t last much longer. Your Highness must go quickly…”
Xu Fengnian returned to the villa, standing atop the courtyard roof. He saw a rider, taking advantage of the chaos, charging through the gates, shouting desperately. Yet, the villa’s inhabitants, stunned by the recent celestial spectacle, paid no heed to this impolite nobody. The rider, bloodied and pale, swayed in his saddle, darkness closing in. As he fell, a figure leapt from the wall, catching him. Leaning against the wall, blood seeping through his fingers, the rider looked up at the white-haired young noble, who tapped key acupoints, halting the deadly sword qi. The noble asked gravely, “I am Xu Fengnian. What do you bring for me?”
The naturally grotesque, Azure-faced rider, He Zhu, pulled out a hairpin, trembling as he handed it over, rasping, “I am He Zhu. I encountered a young demonic killer on the street, gravely wounded. A young lady surnamed Jia saved me and asked me to deliver this hairpin to Beiliang, saying it would settle our debts…”
Revived briefly by death’s glow, He Zhu managed a grim smile, saying, “Injured by sword qi, I journeyed to Beiliang. Hearing scholars from Shangyin Academy were heading there, I sought to join them, but my strength failed me. I was saved by Master Li of Wudang, learning of your presence here. Had I known you were the Beiliang Prince, I wouldn’t have agreed, for my family was executed by your father. Yet, I gave my word to Lady Jia, a man’s oath is worth a thousand pieces of gold…”
Xu Fengnian gripped the bloodied hairpin, softly asking, “What of Lady Jia?”
The hideous rider, visibly worried, replied, “She fought three formidable demons for a long time. One, wielding terrifying sword qi, called himself Yi Jie Liu, killing indiscriminately. The other two bore Northern Wilderness accents, likely first-rank experts from the north. When Lady Jia gave me the hairpin, she was severely wounded in Meizi Alley, Qinghu City, two hundred li from here. I beg you, hurry to save her…”
Xu Fengnian nodded, grasping He Zhu’s hand, channeling true energy to sustain him, “Understood.”
He Zhu shook his head, “Don’t trouble yourself over my fate.”
Li Yufu arrived silently. Xu Fengnian stood, bowing deeply to He Zhu.
Li Yufu whispered, “Your Highness, go north with peace of mind. I shall see Brother He to his final journey.”
Xu Fengnian pressed his hands downward, the ground trembling. He soared skyward like a crimson rainbow, crossing Kuai Xue Villa.
Li Yufu knelt beside He Zhu, whose Azure face had turned pale again. The horse, companion of many years, gently nudged its master before kneeling beside him, sheltering him from the cold.
He Zhu smiled weakly, asking, “Master Li, any wine?”
Li Yufu, shoulders bloodied, hesitated. He Zhu chuckled, “Forget it. No coin for wine left. They say poverty rings loud, but I’ve nothing to jingle now. I was a minor tax collector in a small town, never good at reading faces, bumbling through years, earning just enough to claim this discarded army horse. I wanted to wander the jianghu… If only poetry could buy wine… Youthful chivalry, bonding with heroes. Open-hearted, hair bristling. In a moment’s talk, life and death shared. A promise worth a thousand pieces of gold, a promise worth a thousand pieces of gold…”
The young swordsman’s murmurs faded. Li Yufu lingered, unwilling to let go.
After an unknown time, the horse whinnied softly. Li Yufu stood, lifting He Zhu onto the horse, leading it slowly from Kuai Xue Villa.
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