Chapter 394: There is a Ghost on the Chinese Scholar Tree

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng sat inside the carriage with her eyes closed, appearing indifferent, but in reality, her heart was in turmoil. When she opened her eyes and saw the young man with white hair wearing a white python robe slowly returning to the carriage, she smiled and asked, “You’ve endured silently for so many years, secretly practicing the saber—was it all for this day?”

The carriage moved slowly, but Xu Fengnian paid her no heed. Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng was used to clashing with this fellow; she couldn’t feel at ease unless she provoked him a little. She continued, “The court dares not lay a hand on the Prince of Beiliang. Even if you’ve established your footing in Beiliang, once you reach Tai’an City, won’t you be drowned in the spittle of the capital? And when you encounter those upright officials who challenge you face-to-face, or those courtiers’ sons who make their names by stepping on you, will you yield and endure their insults like spittle on your own face?”

“And besides, aside from Linlang King Zhao Ao, who was stripped of his fief for having no heir, and your sworn enemy Chen Zhibao, there are five other princes watching like tigers and wolves, most of whom are at odds with Beiliang. Not to mention Tai’an City is the domain of Han Diaosi. If I stand aside, you’ll only have that Heaven-Stage Yin entity left, and Han Diaosi excels at using the Fingertip Heaven Art to kill Heaven-Stage beings. Won’t you be walking straight into a trap? Are you truly unafraid that after waiting twenty years, you’ll end up not even being Prince of Beiliang for a single day?”

Xu Fengnian remained silent throughout.

Perhaps after reaching the brink of martial madness, Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng had become utterly lonely, and now that she had finally found someone she considered an equal, her words flowed like those of a married woman, unbothered by carrying on a one-sided conversation. As she carefully applied her makeup before a mirror, she playfully asked, “Who will you marry as your principal consort in the future?”

Xu Fengnian frowned, “Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng, can’t you just be quiet for once? Why don’t you go drive the carriage?”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng tilted half her face out of the mirror frame, her eyes tinged with purple and her lips crimson red, exuding a Enchanting beauty. She smiled at Xu Fengnian and asked, “Aren’t you afraid I’ll just take you straight to Guuniu Ridge?”

Xu Fengnian lifted the curtain, revealing a desolate scene of yellowed grass and fallen leaves. In the northern lands, frost had descended, and insects burrowed into the soil. In the south, cicadas would have already fallen silent, and lotus flowers withered. Xu Fengnian, for some reason, recalled his first journey outside his home. This trip to the capital marked his fourth departure from home. It seemed the first had been the most desolate, yet also the most unforgettable. Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng’s half-face protruded from the mirror, her eyes glimmering as she stared at this prematurely white-haired young man. Finally, Xu Fengnian spoke, “I do business with you—clear prices, no deception. I don’t mind if you take a little extra profit. But if you’re still insatiable and choose to watch idly when it’s your turn to act, I have plenty of ways to make you wish you were dead.”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng burst into laughter, “You’re threatening me?”

Xu Fengnian’s eyes turned icy cold. In the next moment, a brilliant red robe like a blooming peony swiftly slid into the carriage. A six-armed figure clad in violet, gripping a sinister presence, a woman and a Yin entity rapidly darted out of the carriage. After a brief moment, Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng returned to the carriage with a gloomy expression, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. For the next ten days, before the beginning of winter, the two did not exchange a single word.

In the grand capital of Tai’an City, an unremarkable carriage stood outside, lost among the bustling crowd, not even earning a glance of disdain. During this time, the city at the center of the world was abuzz with excitement. First came the tragic downfall of the venerable Master Song’s family, collapsing almost overnight. The streets and alleys were filled with murmurs of sympathy for the old master. Over something as trivial as leaving behind secret manuscripts to seek a place in history, he had died of grief, and even his younger brother, Master Song II, and his young daughter had been dragged down with him. The entire family had been forced to pack up and leave the capital. At the farewell, officials from the three provinces and six ministries, scholars from the National Academy, and many royal relatives who held no power all gathered, forming a procession of two or three thousand people.

After the Song family’s fall from grace came the grander event of the five princes entering the capital. First was Prince Zhao Sui of Jiaodong, followed closely by Prince Zhao Ying of Huainan. Then came Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling, Prince Zhao Xun of Jing’an, and Prince Zhao Bing of Yan Chi. This kept the officials of the Zongfan Office, as well as the Minister and Vice-Minister of Rites, who oversaw ceremonial affairs, busy to the point of exhaustion, likely shedding several jin of weight. Yet, the most sensational event was still the arrival of Chen Zhibao of Xishu, a figure not a prince but surpassing princes. He entered the city alone, clad in white, the first time since the monk Li Dangxin that such a spectacle had drawn the entire city. On the day of Frost’s Descent, the “Soldier Sage” rode in on a white horse, clad in white robes, carrying a spear and sipping plum wine. Even those who had once only heard his name and never seen him were deeply impressed by his unmatched elegance as a Confucian general. Not to mention the countless women along the main roads who screamed and swooned. Clever flower vendors made a fortune that day. Whether they recognized the white-clad man or not, they simply closed their eyes and spouted exaggerated praises, easily swindling silver coins from noble daughters and wealthy young ladies.

As Xu Fengnian lifted the curtain to gaze at the majestic city walls above, he calmly said, “I originally didn’t want to get off at Huiting Pavilion because I was afraid of disappointing their expectations. Your situation on Huishan Mountain is different from mine in Beiliang. Sometimes I take out my frustrations on you, but you, a female hero determined to reach the pinnacle of martial cultivation, shouldn’t hold it against me, a commoner who isn’t even a true martial expert.”

Originally intending not to exchange a single word with him during this trip to the capital, Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng found herself saying, almost involuntarily, “What if you just became emperor? I could pledge my life to you before I reach the Heaven-Stage.”

Xu Fengnian chuckled, “Suddenly I’ve thought of a good way for you to get back at me. As soon as you get off, start shouting that the heir of Beiliang is plotting rebellion and declaring himself emperor. That’ll surely land me in trouble.”

Before Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng could reply, Xu Fengnian waved his hand behind him and said, “Don’t take it seriously.”

To Qing Niao, Xu Fengnian said, “Let’s go to the Xiama Wei Inn.”

He lowered the curtain. Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng frowned, “You won’t even let the Ministry of Rites officials make a grand fuss?”

Xu Fengnian smiled, “The Minister of Rites, Lu Daolin, is family with the Xu clan. I’ll just pay him a visit when the time comes.”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng laughed, “So it’s true—family law outweighs national law.”

Xu Fengnian helplessly replied, “Don’t get too carried away just because I’ve given you a little leeway.”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng suddenly asked, “Have you gone many years without sweet-talking any women?”

Xu Fengnian closed his eyes, “I’m too hungry to think about anything.”

After handing over the household register, the carriage slowly entered the main gate of Tai’an City. The grand avenue, wide enough for ten carriages to ride side by side, stretched straight to the palace city, bustling with people. Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng lifted the curtain for a moment, took a few glances, then let it fall again, “It’s nothing special.”

Xu Fengnian smiled lightly, “If you read about it in history books, with just a few dozen words describing a person, an event, or a battle, you’d think it’s nothing special either. Only by being there can you truly understand the hardships and glories. For example, if I had died anywhere before, history would merely record that the heir of Beiliang, Xu Fengnian, was unworthy and untalented. But now, sitting beside you, how many times have you felt involuntary murderous intent?”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng glanced sideways with mockery, “Oh, now you can reason with me too.”

Xu Fengnian smiled, “You’re mistaken. Before I was beaten by your servants at the lantern market with Wen Hua, didn’t I reason with you enough? I almost wore out my tongue, yet still couldn’t avoid being chased away.”

Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng’s lips curved slightly upward.

Tai’an City was truly vast. From the main gate to the Xiama Wei Inn, they had yet to cross half the city, but it felt as if they had already traversed any city in Beiliang several times.

At the Xiama Wei Inn, the innkeeper Tong Ziliang had not slept well for several days, fearing he might miss the arrival of the young prince. He was a former official from Beiliang, neither a true soldier nor a proper officer in his military days. Yet as the head of the inn, he had thrived, settling down in the capital where land was as valuable as gold. He was more prosperous than many officials who had served their entire lives without ever owning a mansion. In the southwest corner of the city, he had purchased a small residence, and his grandson had been studying for years. Tong, the innkeeper, hoped the boy would succeed in the imperial examinations. He had no greater wishes. His only regret was that the staff at the inn kept changing, with new faces replacing the old. Today, apart from himself, there was not a single person left who had served under the great general in Beiliang. In the past, he could always drink with his old comrades at the inn, but now, he could not even find someone to share a drink with.

Tong Ziliang stood under the ancient dragon-clawed locust tree outside the inn, eagerly waiting. His subordinates mocked him for being overly sentimental. That infamous heir of Beiliang, even if he entered the capital, would surely reside in a grand mansion arranged by the Ministry of Rites. At the very least, he would stay in a place filled with beautiful women, fine wine, and exquisite food. Would he really choose to stay at an inn? But Tong Ziliang offered no explanation and simply stood there. In the past, he had waited time and again for the Prince of Beiliang to return in glory, for the generals of Beiliang to come back in honor. The only time he had been disappointed was during the Xilebi campaign, when General Feng and Ma Ling, along with thirteen other generals, went to the palace. General Feng never returned to the inn, and the retired generals from Beiliang never returned home either—they all perished.

The carriage stopped.

A young, refined man with white hair stepped down and approached Tong Ziliang with a warm smile, saying, “Innkeeper Tong, you’ve worked hard.”

Tong Ziliang was taken aback and asked, “Your Highness, the Prince?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Tong Ziliang wanted to slap himself a few times. Looking closely at the man before him, dressed in unfamiliar yet noble white brocade with a python pattern, who else could it be but the Prince? Otherwise, which royal relative would willingly come to Xiama Wei to seek discomfort? Tong Ziliang knelt, his eyes slightly moist, and said solemnly, “Tong Ziliang of Xiama Wei greets Your Highness!”

Xu Fengnian helped him up and smiled, “Xu Xiao told me to pass on a message to Innkeeper Tong: ‘Be careful with your unmarried daughter; don’t let Xu Fengnian meet her, or he’ll ruin her.'”

Tong Ziliang stood up, stunned for a moment, then couldn’t help but laugh, though he tried to suppress it.

Walking with him toward the inn’s gate, Xu Fengnian said, “I’ll stay here for a while. As Father Xu Xiao used to come, I’ll do the same—no need for any special arrangements.”

Tong Ziliang nodded, “I will follow Your Highness’s instructions.”

The young boy Wu behind them whispered, “Innkeeper, remember to give me more food.”

Tong Ziliang laughed heartily, “Rest assured, there will be plenty of food and meat.”

Behind them, Qing Niao in green and Xuan-Yuan in purple were quite conspicuous.

Suddenly, Xu Fengnian turned his head and saw a middle-aged scholar in a pure yang cap in the distance, followed by a bright-eyed boy carrying a black sandalwood sword case. Xu Fengnian first sent Wu with Tong Ziliang to the inn to eat, then approached the vice minister of the Ministry of War, who had become popular in the capital in just two years, and smiled, “Greetings, Sword Immortal of Tangxi.”

The vice minister of the Ministry of War was Lu Baijie of the Lu family.

The Sword Immortal of Tangxi smiled, “Fortunately, this time the Prince didn’t ask me, this rotten Confucian, how many jin of benevolence and morality I sell. Now serving in the capital, being called ‘Vice Minister’ so often, I almost forgot I was once a swordsman. That’s why I specially had my page bring my sword, originally planning to disregard my elders’ face and spar with you, but it turned out to be self-humiliation.”

Xu Fengnian flattered, “Vice Minister Lu has unique insight.”

Lu Baijie shook his head helplessly, “After becoming a master, one’s face becomes thick.”

Xu Fengnian accepted all the words with a smile and asked, “Would you like to come in and sit for a while?”

Lu Baijie nodded, “Exactly, I want to ask you about swordsmanship.”

Xu Fengnian was embarrassed and said, “Uncle Lu, are you not afraid of asking a blind person for directions?”

Lu Baijie said calmly, “Not to mention Li Chungan personally taught you the Two-Sleeve Green Snake, and Deng Ta’a gave you twelve swords. Even if I am just a frog at the bottom of a well, I should at least know that even if the Fifth Mo stood still for me to stab a few times, I might not be able to kill him.”

Xu Fengnian was silent.

Lu Baijie joked, “Don’t worry, no one in the capital believes you really killed the leader of the Army Mountain. They all say it was the dead warrior of the Prince of Beiliang, nothing to do with you, not even a single copper coin.”

Xu Fengnian was about to speak when the sword-bearing pageboy shouted in horror, “Master, there’s a ghost on the locust tree!”

Lu Baijie turned around and lightly tapped him on the forehead.

Hanging on the lush branches of the dragon-clawed locust tree was a brilliant red robe.

Lu Baijie didn’t even look, whispering softly, “Fingertip Heaven?”

Xu Fengnian shook his head, “It has already reached the Heaven-Stage.”

Lu Baijie laughed, “I truly deserve the title of a frog at the bottom of a well.”

Xu Fengnian held back his laughter. As Lu Baijie was puzzled, he saw the purple-clad woman from Huishan Mountain and sighed deeply. Despite his years of maintaining a calm heart as the Sword Immortal of Tangxi, he couldn’t help but feel a whirlwind of emotions. He straightforwardly joked, “In the officialdom, everyone around me is old and white-haired. Today, meeting you, I realize that while I may have minor successes in the officialdom, I suffer major setbacks in martial cultivation. I wish I hadn’t come.”

In the late autumn, the capital was high and clear. Innkeeper Tong Ziliang, seeing the crowd, decided to move the table to the courtyard himself, not allowing anyone from the inn near Prince Xu Fengnian.

Under the old locust tree in the courtyard was a group of people: Xu Fengnian, who had come to the capital for the ceremony; Vice Minister of War Lu Baijie; Xuan-Yuan Qingfeng from Huishan Mountain; Qing Niao; the young warrior Wu; the sword-bearing pageboy.

And one more.

The pageboy, his face pale, pointed at the sinister old locust tree and said Grievancely, “Master, look! I didn’t lie. There really is a female ghost on the tree!”