The barefoot woman who called herself the charcoal-selling girl rode into the city on an ox cart. After helping the old man and his grandson sell all their charcoal, she turned back toward the city gate. Guided by a woman’s intuition, she was convinced that the humanoid cat was waiting for the white-haired man from Youyan Villa—the very man who had humiliated its sect.
She didn’t leave the city directly. Instead, she climbed onto the city wall and sat there, swinging her feet.
For cultivators seeking to ascend and achieve immortality, there has always been an unchanging shortcut over the past thousand years: slay a malevolent dragon, swallow its ink-black pearl, and after nurturing it for sixty years, historical records say one could grow horns atop their head, becoming half-dragon and half-human. Eventually, they could pass through the heavenly gates and claim dominion over a dragon palace beneath the rivers and seas.
She felt the opportunity had arrived.
Lu Song, commander of the six hundred light cavalry, had a clean and reputable background. His career had steadily risen, with each promotion meticulously documented by local prefectures and finally reported to the Ministry of War in the capital. There was not a single blemish in his record. In the prime of his life, amidst the turbulent events surrounding the Western Chu’s ceremonial visit to Tai’an City, he had recently received a secret imperial decree promoting him a rank higher. Soon, he would personally command over a thousand elite cavalry, participating in the covert encirclement of several rebellious regions in the former Western Chu territories. Handsome and charming, with the grace of a scholar, his only flaw was his fondness for consuming medicinal herbs and cold-food powders. Even in bitter cold, he would walk barefoot in wooden clogs, his wide sleeves fluttering like the wind.
In stark contrast to the scholarly general Lu Song was Wang Lin, commander of the three hundred heavy cavalry. A man of brutal and domineering temperament, Wang came from a clan that had only recently established itself during the late Spring and Autumn period. His three hundred elite riders were all unruly young men from the Wang family, who did not fight among themselves or oppress their own kin. Instead, they focused on wreaking havoc in neighboring regions. In recent years, they had become such a headache for the local governor that an aide suggested a solution: pacification. The governor had to beg shamelessly at the imperial court for a nominal generalship, finally managing to placate Wang Lin, who had only recently come of age. The Wang clan of Kaixiang Commandery, as outsiders with shallow roots, had relied on armed clashes involving five or six hundred young men to fight their way into dominance, forcing nearby powerful families into submission. Wang Lin’s father was a veteran of a hundred battles who had survived the Spring and Autumn wars. Alongside his comrades, most of them had passed away in the past twenty years. Yet they had left behind a formidable family fortune. Unfortunately, Wang Lin was a wastrel—chivalrous and fond of war games. Despite the lack of real battles, he poured over two hundred thousand taels of silver into his cavalry force—buying and raising horses, purchasing weapons, and establishing training grounds. These expenses were like a gaping maw devouring gold. Fortunately, after forming the three hundred armored riders, the Wang clan ceased causing trouble for the local authorities. When the Wang riders were mounted, they trained on open plains, charging and clashing in silence. When dismounted, they ventured deep into mountainous forests, often staying for a month at a time. The local government assumed that once the Wang family’s wealth was exhausted, Wang Lin, the young and reckless hothead, would finally settle down. No one expected that this time, the three hundred iron riders would gallop hundreds of miles straight to Shenwu City. Rumors abounded that it must be due to some nobleman in Shenwu City causing a lover’s quarrel, provoking this hotheaded romanticist known for flying into rages over beauty.
Wang Lin led the official three hundred armored riders as the vanguard, followed by over two hundred fierce and burly men riding at full speed, their swords and blades wrapped in cloth. Wang had a long-standing relationship with a band of outlaws who had set up camp in Jinzi Mountain. Every time he trained his troops in the mountains, they would often engage in mock battles—without weapons, fighting barehanded in the dense forests, alternating between attack and defense. The engagements usually lasted half a month or a month, with injuries allowed but no killing, until one side was symbolically wiped out. Originally, Wang Lin governed his men with strict military discipline, giving them formidable combat effectiveness, so he usually won more than he lost. However, this year, dozens of unfamiliar faces arrived in batches on Jinzi Mountain. They were hard to get close to, but occasionally joined the fights when itching for action. Even with just twenty or so of them, they always gave Wang’s men a hard time. Especially that woman surnamed Ren—her strikes were ruthless and merciless. Over time, a mutual respect developed between the two sides, and despite their differences, they found common ground. After all, deep down, both groups shared the same roots, like hidden snakes stretching for thousands of miles—extending all the way to Beiliang!
This expedition was sudden and unexpected, with the elite forces mobilized en masse. Several unseen orchestrators, who had not yet revealed themselves, gave a cold, straightforward message to the three factions involved: succeed, and you shall gain wealth and glory; fail, and your heads will be left outside Shenwu City. Wang Lin had no major concerns. He believed in the principle of training for a thousand days, using for one. The position he and his father had achieved today seemed to be the result of his father’s painstaking efforts, bribing officials at every level to smooth the way. But Wang Lin knew the truth better than anyone. For instance, the real mastermind behind the Wang family’s affairs was a seemingly humble steward. His martial arts skills were entirely taught by a scholar-like instructor who appeared to be nothing more than a Confucian tutor. In this world, family heirlooms could be sold, talent and knowledge could be sold, a woman’s body could be sold, and even human relationships and face could be sold. But when it came to selling one’s life, only fools would do so. Wang Lin valued his life and feared death, but he was willing to take a gamble—a big one. If he played small, he would remain a mere nominal general for life.
Ren Shanyu and over a dozen others were the last group of Beiliang spies to infiltrate Jinzi Mountain. Don’t be fooled by her alluring charm, like a courtesan in the city selling smiles and seduction. Every move she made exuded seductive grace. Yet beneath that, she was a true rogue at heart. Though short in stature, even nearing thirty, she looked like a young girl not yet fully grown. Petite and delicate, she carried a pair of massive battle axes, hacking through enemies like chopping pork, never hesitating. Over the years, Jinzi Mountain had become a melting pot of all sorts. When she first joined the bandits, a few reckless men tried to sneak into her quarters at night. The next morning, the gang members found the courtyard littered with chopped-up bodies, and the stray dogs and house pets nearby had gorged themselves until their bellies bulged. After that, whenever Ren Shanyu flew into a rage and slaughtered someone, her favorite gesture was to wipe the blood off her axes on the ample curves of her chest. No one could fathom how such a youthful, doll-like girl could possess such a voluptuous figure.
When the three factions finally converged, and the true target was revealed, both Lu Song, Wang Lin, and even the reckless killers like Ren Shanyu were taken aback. It was actually the next leader of Beiliang? This left Wang Lin puzzled—who could possibly be such a deadly enemy that the heir of Beiliang required a thousand riders for protection? Ren Shanyu’s beautiful eyes sparkled. Usually, it was men leering at her, but now the tables had turned. Within the underworld figures cultivated by Beiliang, Ren Shanyu was only a second-rate player, far below top-tier experts like the great swordsman Lü Qiantang or the Southern Barbarian witch Shu Xiu. She had only survived in the shadows, living by the blade, never expecting to witness this young man who had once stirred Beiliang and now shook the entire world. Throughout the journey, she had secretly watched the white-robed heir riding alongside Lu Song. During the recent ceremony in the capital, two legendary feats were attributed to him: slicing the imperial avenue in half with a single slash, and beating the adopted son of Gu Jiantang like a dog outside the palace gates.
Ren Shanyu found it hard to believe.
At last, they approached Shenwu City.
Lu Song, Wang Lin, and Ren Shanyu, along with the frontline elite forces, all understood in an instant—no matter how few the enemy, this was a life-or-death battle for all of them.
The black-robed old man exuded a certain force.
A force capable of uprooting mountains and shattering cities.
Outside Shenwu City, the atmosphere was grim. The ground was wide and flat, suitable for a hundred riders to charge in formation. This brought a sense of relief to Lu Song and Wang Lin, masters of mounted warfare, as they exchanged glances.
But when they noticed that the young prince was riding alone at the front, both men were seized by panic. If he died, their lives would be over for sure. Logically, the two experienced commanders should have seized the moment to charge forward, but for some reason, when they saw the black-robed old man and the white-clad, white-steeded prince simultaneously rushing toward each other in a straight line, they forgot to give orders. Not only did they and the eight hundred riders behind them hesitate slightly, but Ren Shanyu and the two hundred hardened outlaws also looked on in stunned silence. Especially the girl-like but naturally seductive leader of Jinzi Mountain, whose eyelids involuntarily twitched.
Suddenly, the battlefield outside the city erupted in killing intent.
Inside the city, an unassuming scholar in green robes, tall and slender, gave off a gentle, scholarly air due to his refined features. He lazily twirled a willow branch between his fingers.
A willow branch from the Northern Liang.
Planted, it would grow into a grove. A sliver of sword qi pierced through the heart like a willow branch. It was said that unless one was a Land Immortal, even a first-tier expert would have to meet their end.
He smiled lazily, his expression one of indolent ease. He had failed to kill his target in the Tai’an City’s Xiaomawei district, stirring up chaos between Liyang and Beiliang. No matter—he could still fish in troubled waters outside Shenwu City.
From the northern outskirts of the city, a girl carried a withered sunflower, its petals long gone, and skipped along the outer wall toward the eastern gate.
Occasionally, an early riser would pass by and sigh in pity—she looked quite pretty, but something seemed off in her mind.
At the eastern gate, Xu Fengnian rode furiously, seemingly impatient, eager for battle. He was no longer satisfied with the speed of his warhorse.
The horse’s front legs suddenly buckled, collapsing forward. Xu Fengnian’s body swayed, and his white-robed form shot ahead in a blur.
In an instant, they were only ten paces apart.
Xu Fengnian flipped one palm outward, twisted the other inward, his steps light and nimble, exuding an air of effortless grace.
He raised an elbow, precisely deflecting the outstretched arm of his mortal enemy, Han Diaosi. With both hands, he seized the left arm of the human-cat, twisted, and with a bizarre, unorthodox technique that had propelled him to the peak of the Heavenly Elephant realm, hurled the great demon of the Spring and Autumn era straight toward the city wall!
One seamless motion!
A black shadow flew like a boulder from a catapult, crashing into the wall. In the blink of an eye, he pushed off the wall with his feet, rebounding back with even greater speed.
To the world, a blink of an eye felt like a century between these two.
Han Diaosi thrust a palm into Xu Fengnian’s forehead.
The black figure sent the white-robed youth sliding backward for over twenty zhang.
At that moment, the onlookers realized the city wall had trembled, sending avalanches of snow cascading down.
Xu Fengnian not only had the Liang Blade at his waist but also the Spring and Autumn sword strapped to his back.
Han Diaosi waited until Xu Fengnian steadied himself before slowly rolling up his sleeve, revealing a full arm of crimson threads.
What a battle—white against black.
What a sight—white-haired against white-haired!
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