Xu Fengnian, after finishing his yellow wine, walked out of the courtyard toward the Pavilion (pavilion) on Crouching Tiger Mountain. All along the way, heavy snowflakes brushed his body and piled upon his shoulders. It was probably Zhang Dongling who had sternly issued orders; no idle onlookers approached to strike up a conversation. A woman dressed in purple leaned against the pavilion’s pillar, her legs stretched out, facing the lake, a guqin resting on her knees. Xu Fengnian entered the pavilion, yet she showed no flicker of emotion. He cut straight to the chase, “Han Diaosi will appear within three hundred miles. How much effort do you plan to contribute? We must settle this beforehand so I can act accordingly.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng furrowed her brows, “That human cat is merely at the Zhixuan level. Is he worth such a grand arrangement?”
Xu Fengnian sat down calmly, “Firstly, Han Diaosi is acknowledged as the second-best Zhixuan cultivator after Deng Ta’a, with red silk wrapped around his arms and techniques capable of snapping long life with a finger-flick, undoubtedly far superior to me. Secondly, I fear he might suddenly break through to the Tianxiang realm. It won’t be as simple as a Zhixuan killing a Tianxiang cultivator, and we might end up in deep trouble. With Prince Zhao Kai dead, Han Shengxuan, who had lost all hope of supporting an emperor, is practically living without purpose, hating me to the bone. If he could kill me ten times, he wouldn’t stop at nine. Xu Ying, being at the Tianxiang level, is unsuitable for direct confrontation. What worries me now is that Han might emerge unscathed before Wang Xiaoping even draws his sword.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng placed her hands on the guqin strings, “Do you know about the previous siege against Han Diaosi in the Western Regions?”
Xu Fengnian nodded, “Bai Huer Lian didn’t speak a word, so I only learned fragments from Wu. The three of you led 1,600 elite cavalry from Beiliang, encountering Han Diaosi three times in total. Each time he escaped. Once, he slaughtered 400 cavalrymen, endured one of Wu’s iron arrows, and Bai Huer Lian’s life-risking slash failed to sever his arm, only cutting off a bundle of red silk. In the other two encounters, Wu said you were seriously injured both times. Once, you were nearly finished by the human cat until you coincidentally met several senior monks from the Western Esoteric sect with formidable cultivation, who absorbed your inner energy and drained you dry, saving your life.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng nodded, “In those three ambushes, Bai Huer Lian fought with his life on the line. If he hadn’t disregarded his own safety, the Beiliang cavalry would have been hunted down and gradually wiped out by Han Diaosi. How many times could I and the assassin Wu survive the old eunuch’s attacks? Ultimately, he still aimed to conserve strength for assassinating you, the main target, and didn’t even consider me a threat. Otherwise, he could have exchanged his life for ours during the final siege, taking out the three of us and over a thousand cavalrymen. Before descending from Huimountain, I was so arrogant, thinking I could easily secure a place among the top ten martial cultivators in the world, surpassing even Deng Mao. But after facing Han Diaosi, who was merely tenth, I realized how ignorant I had been. After barely returning to Beiliang, I vowed to myself never to recklessly provoke Han Diaosi again before reaching the level of a land immortal.”
Xu Fengnian replied softly, “I understand.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng still didn’t turn her head, asking quietly, “Are you disappointed?”
Xu Fengnian leaned back, hands behind his head, “No.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng smiled slightly, “Earlier on the lake, you went through great lengths battling a group of cultivators, causing heaven and earth to tremble. Were you worried that if you died, you’d be forgotten like Li Chungan?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled, “You truly understand me.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng glanced at the cold blade at Xu Fengnian’s waist, curious, “How will you deal with that human cat who can tear apart the peak-level Fujiang armor with his bare hands?”
Xu Fengnian, either uncertain or unwilling to be fully transparent, replied vaguely, “We can only take it one step at a time.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng didn’t press further. Watching Xu Fengnian lazily wave his hand, snowflakes drifting, boredom evident, she finally stood up and left. Leaning back against the pillar, she gently knocked her head against it with a soft “thud.” After an unknown length of time, she looked down, hesitated, then bent to tie a knot in her skirt hem.
That evening, Youyan Villa quickly gathered two large trunks filled with famous swords from their long-cherished collection, carefully moving them to Chixue Courtyard. Surprisingly, after obtaining the Longxu sword, Wang Xiaoping requested two more: a short sword called “Xiao Fei” and a broadsword named “Ge Lutou.” While these swords were considered top-tier within Youyan Villa, they still fell short of being truly legendary. Xu Fengnian, however, remained indifferent. Before Hong Xixiang descended the mountain, Wang Xiaoping, the sword-obsessed disciple of Wudang Sect, was undeniably the sect’s finest swordsman. His skill in slaying evildoers even surpassed his two senior brothers, Wang Chonglou and Yu Xingrui. His sword intent was among the purest in the world, unquestionably formidable. With three swords in hand, Xu Fengnian could roughly guess Wang Xiaoping’s intent: three swords meant three strikes against Han Diaosi. If he failed, he would perish.
At dinner, Xu Fengnian attended alone. Besides Zhang Dongling, Zhang Chunlin, and the villa’s mistress, two lifelong friends of Zhang Dongling were also present: one named Cao Yu, wielding a pair of Dragon Tendon Whip (jiao sin whips), who had remained at the Second-Rank Xiao Zongshi level for a full decade without advancing to the First-Rank, and instead showed signs of regression; the other was a swordsman named Duan Mao. Though considered a renowned swordsman in his region, Duan Mao followed an unconventional path, focusing on techniques rather than sword intent. He was essentially a disciple of Deng Ta’a’s lineage. The martial world is such that countless younger generations watch the top figures striving for enlightenment, mimicking their every move. Duan Mao’s most notable feat was defeating two Xiao Zongshi masters without ever reaching the Second-Rank himself, relying solely on his peculiar sword techniques.
Cao Yu and Duan Mao were seasoned martial artists who knew to avoid sensitive topics, not prying into Xu Fengnian’s secret identity. Yet their eyes burned with eager anticipation. One sought to stabilize his cultivation, not necessarily aiming for the legendary First-Rank, but at least avoiding a drop below the Second-Rank. The other, a swordsman by trade, was desperate to hear a few words of wisdom from this terrifying hidden immortal who could command hundreds of flying swords, hoping it might propel his sword skills forward. Unfortunately, the immortal-like Xu Fengnian, whose true age was unknown, remained silent. Fortunately, Cao Yu and Duan Mao had low expectations. Just sharing a meal at the same table was enough to make them feel honored. When they returned home and recounted the evening to their juniors, it would surely become a legendary tale. Have you heard of Li Chungan summoning swords at Guniu Gang? But have you ever seen someone command hundreds of swords to slash a lake and slay immortals?
After the meal, Duan Mao subtly inquired, “Senior Xu, were those dozen white-robed immortals on the lake truly cultivators from the Nanhai Guanyin Sect? You defeating over a dozen of them, you must at least be at the Zhixuan level, right?”
Privately amused by the sudden title of “senior,” Xu Fengnian remained expressionless, seemingly lost in the memory of the lake battle. To Cao and Duan, this wasn’t arrogance but the dignified restraint of a true master.
Later that night, the group moved to a unique and elegant garden in Youyan Villa, filled with purple bamboo. Snow pressed heavily on the bamboo leaves, occasionally snapping branches with a loud crack. In the snowy night, red clay stoves burned warmly, and the most graceful maids of the villa poured wine with delicate hands. A sword immortal with silver hair presided over the gathering. Cao Yu and Duan Mao, inexperienced in such grandeur, were already tipsy before even drinking. If this tale spread, it would surely become a celebrated anecdote in martial circles.
Duan Mao sighed, “Senior, that technique of yours—using snow as countless swords—was truly a divine feat, one I will cherish in my heart forever.”
Cao Yu eagerly added, “Though I don’t wield a sword, witnessing your battle on the lake was already the highlight of my life! I only regret not having taken up the sword and roamed the martial world myself!”
For a moment, Xu Fengnian was lost in memory, recalling his days as a spoiled young master, surrounded by sycophants. He was deep in thought when a dazzling purple figure entered the scene.
Her purple matched perfectly with the purple bamboo illuminated by lanterns.
Her skirt hem was tied into a knot, accentuating her graceful figure.
She didn’t sit but merely said something unnecessary, “I still won’t intervene.”
Xu Fengnian replied, surprised, “I already knew that.”
Xueyuan Qingfeng silently turned away.
Zhang Chunlin stared, entranced, no less captivated than when he had watched the lake battle.
Could there truly be such a bewitching woman in the world?
Xu Fengnian slightly leaned forward, resting his elbow on the couch, smirking. Could this woman actually feel remorse?
Zhang Chunlin asked cautiously, “Benefactor, who is this young lady?”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Just a chance acquaintance.”
Cao Yu and Duan Mao simultaneously swallowed hard, their expressions slightly uneasy. They recalled a rising female figure in the martial world, also known for wearing purple—Xueyuan Qingfeng from Daxueping of Huishan. While outsiders only knew of the catastrophe that struck the Niugang Mountains, where a purple lightning bolt as thick as a mountain struck, wiping out nearly all top Xueyuan experts, few expected Xueyuan Qingfeng to rise from the ashes. Rumors spread wildly, calling her a demoness who enjoyed eating human hearts and livers, practicing the darkest yin techniques. Such a ruthless woman, deserving of death. Yet, she was closely tied to the Beiliang young master, making it too dangerous for ordinary righteous heroes to act.
Suddenly, Xu Fengnian closed his eyes tightly, rubbing his forehead hard with his fingers.
Lowering his head, pretending to raise his wine cup, he clenched his teeth tightly. The porcelain cup remained still, yet the wine inside swirled violently, like a whirlpool.
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