In the twilight, a young man clad in green robe and armor sat cross-legged on the cliffside, shaped like a woman’s waist, overlooking the riverbed below where purple smoke billowed. Behind him stood a sinister four-armed, twin-faced spirit known as Dan Ying. Before entering the tomb, the two had fought fiercely, as if they bore a grudge that could not be reconciled. Yet, who could have known that these two villains, filled with malice, had, during their brief journey into the tomb of the Qin Emperor, formed a tacit alliance without much conversation, turning their hostility toward the demon lord Luo Yang. This was out of necessity, for Luo Yang, in his normal state, could easily crush both of them. Anyone who sided with Luo Yang could expect nothing but peril, like bargaining with a tiger for its skin.
Before entering the tomb, Xu Fengnian had intended to kill Luo Yang. When he had walked out of the corridor alone and then returned, it was not out of mercy. At that time, even if Luo Yang had died in the mountain, Xu Fengnian himself would have been doomed to die in the tomb as well—too great a cost. Later, when he and the sinister spirit played a game of switching faces, it seemed trivial, but even through simple eye contact, a sense of empathy had emerged. When the spirit absorbed the foul, stagnant energy, though Xu Fengnian feigned fear, he was secretly delighted to see it drained completely.
When Luo Yang broke through the mountain, the flipping of the dragon wall marked the most brilliant and cunning move of Xu Fengnian’s life—a seemingly irrational move that was, in fact, meticulously planned. Luo Yang, arrogant and dismissive, resisted the tiger talisman’s aura with the red dragon’s energy from his red armor. But the red armor, after all, recognized its master, and that master was Xu Fengnian, not Luo Yang. Luo Yang could borrow its power, but if Xu Fengnian insisted on reclaiming it, what would be the consequence? This had already been partially proven when Xu Fengnian had tricked the spirit Dan Ying, who had been burned by the fire dragon armor inside the tomb.
When the dragon wall rotated, Luo Yang rushed out first. In that instant, the spirit released the accumulated foul energy from its body, restraining Luo Yang’s movements and trying to dissipate the seemingly inexhaustible martial aura of this mighty demon. At the same time, Xu Fengnian used his sword control technique to command the red armor, like a celestial spell from a mythological tale, pinning Luo Yang in midair. Though only for an instant, it was enough.
In that instant, a sword pierced the heart. In another, a palm struck, channeling the full force of the Great Huang Ting technique across four hundred miles, exploding within Luo Yang’s body, aiming to shatter his heart.
If, during Xu Fengnian’s probing, Luo Yang had not insisted on dragging him to the far north to face Toba Busa, it would have been another near-death experience. If Xu Fengnian had not reached the Diamond Body state, if she had already ascended to the realm of a land-bound immortal, or if the spirit Dan Ying had not cooperated seamlessly—if any of these “ifs” had been missing—then that fatal sword strike would never have landed.
Xu Fengnian, protected by his green serpent robe, untouched by the mist, held a bloodied flying sword named Jin Lü in his hand. He pondered: why had she smiled as she fell into the river? Was it because she, so clever and nearly invincible, had stumbled in her own trap? Or was it because she laughed at his cruelty, deeper than a woman’s heart? Xu Fengnian whispered to the river, “The farthest journey is the road away from home, and I’ve already told you that. But no matter how far the road is, I’m not afraid. What I fear is never returning to Beiliang. I fear dying somewhere outside of Beiliang.”
Xu Fengnian, with three swords strapped to his back in a scabbard, stretched lazily and turned to ask, “Is it time for us to fight to the death now?”
The spirit Dan Ying, wearing a face of compassion, gazed silently at Xu Fengnian, showing no sign of attacking. This was strange. Xu Fengnian asked, “I can guess why you attacked me the first time—you wanted my accumulated Great Huang Ting energy, the residual Buddha’s golden blood, and my own purple and yellow aura. Now, our chances are three to seven in your favor, but I still have a decent chance of escaping. Yet, with your greed, wouldn’t you want to swallow me whole? If you succeeded, your cultivation would surge, and with the death of the major thought Luo Yang, the minor thought would find it hard to bind you again. With the world so vast, you could roam freely as a lesser immortal. If I were you, I’d have already taken that risk.”
The spirit imitated Xu Fengnian’s posture, sitting on the cliffside, hands supporting his cheeks, the other two hands folded over his abdomen, a look of compassion like Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva pitying all beings.
Xu Fengnian chuckled bitterly, “Well, since you’re not going to kill me first, I won’t bother you either. Let’s just keep our distance.”
The spirit, with its unchanging expression, gazed at Xu Fengnian and made a gesture as if reaching for something. Xu Fengnian, wiping the blood from Jin Lü’s blade, ignored the spirit’s mocking mimicry.
Why are you smiling?
Xu Fengnian, lost in thought, and the spirit Dan Ying, still as ever, both suddenly turned their heads. Behind them stood an old white-haired swordsman, who tossed over a wooden case. Glancing at the top-tier spirit of the Princess’s Tomb, he said flatly, “I’ve brought the things for you. I don’t care about anything else—I just feel you shouldn’t die here. Old He Lian wanted me to follow the river downstream and, if I couldn’t find you by nightfall, take these relics to Beiliang, as a sort of half-hearted farewell to Xu Shao.”
Xu Fengnian stood up suddenly, asking, “Won’t you ask where the major thought went? What this green armor is? Why Dan Ying didn’t fight me?”
The old swordsman scoffed impatiently, “What’s with all the questions? I’m just a swordsman bound by fate. He Lian Wei is the real guest of the Princess’s Tomb. If anyone’s going to chase you with fire and cavalry, it’s him. I have a good relationship with that old man, and I like you too, so I won’t take sides. After dawn, I’ll return to the city. From now on, good luck to you. Don’t expect me to be your bodyguard—I owe you no such debt.”
Xu Fengnian bowed deeply, “Thank you, Grandpa Chu.”
The old swordsman, dragging his sword, showed a hint of regret and waved his hand, “Don’t be sentimental—get going!”
The black scabbard containing three ancient swords was small enough to fit into the wooden case, alongside the Spring and Autumn swords. It was no longer suitable to return to the palace, so it was enough to let He Lian Wei know he had survived the Yellow River. As for the river pirates and tomb robbers from the Zhong and Lu families, Xu Fengnian had no intention of interfering. Whether they could find the dragon wall and succeed or fail would depend on whether Zhong Shen Tong lived up to the name “Shen Tong.” The fire dragon armor and the national treasure tiger talisman had sunk with Luo Yang into the depths of the Qin Emperor’s tomb, and the golden armor and weapons had collapsed after Luo Yang’s mountain-breaking feat. This grand project was far more arduous than intercepting the river. Xu Fengnian leaped across the Yellow River, and as he flew through the air, he looked down once.
The old swordsman’s voice echoed from afar, “If you get the chance, bring a bottle of wine for Old Huang’s grave. And tell that stubborn fool that in my life, the one I lost to most willingly was him.”
After Xu Fengnian had leapt several miles, he sensed the spirit still following him. He stopped and frowned, asking, “What do you want?”
The red-robed Dan Ying extended its crimson tongue, licked its lips, and slowly raised its hand, pointing at Xu Fengnian’s green armor.
Xu Fengnian considered it, weighing the pros and cons. This serpent armor was too conspicuous for travel, so he decided to remove it and toss it to the red-robed spirit. Unlike the fire dragon armor, which was inherently incompatible with the spirit, the green armor would enhance Dan Ying’s cultivation. Though he felt a pang of regret at not being able to wear it back to Beiliang, it was better than drawing attention in the Northern Marches. The Princess’s Tomb and the demon lord Zhong would surely come after him if they spotted it. Somehow, the spirit managed to don the green armor without removing its red robe, its four arms shaking joyfully. Xu Fengnian found it absurd and laughed, then resumed his journey. But moments later, he stopped again, turning with a murderous aura, “Are you really going to follow me? I have the Spring and Autumn sword—it’s perfect for slaying filth like you. Don’t think you can win easily.”
The spirit’s red robe whirled, alternating between joy and sorrow.
Xu Fengnian asked, puzzled, “You’re not going back to the Princess’s Tomb? You want to follow me?”
The red-robed spirit tilted its head, staring at Xu Fengnian.
Xu Fengnian asked again, “Are you planning to make me your most delicious delicacy, not killing me but slowly feeding on me?”
The spirit shifted from sorrow to joy—the answer was clear.
Perhaps only Xu Fengnian in all the world would seriously negotiate with a crimson-robed spirit, “I can’t let you take all the benefits. If you follow me, I’ll never have peace. It’s the same as wearing the green armor.”
The spirit covered half its face with one hand and mimicked a throat-slashing motion with the other.
Xu Fengnian laughed in frustration, “Do you really think I’m a god? Just because you make a couple of gestures, I should know what you mean?”
Each time the spirit thought, it tilted its head, moving stiffly and obviously. Then it pointed toward the dragon wall of the Yellow River, drew a large circle, repeated the half-face and throat-slashing gesture, and drew a small circle.
Xu Fengnian pondered, half-believing, “So you’re saying Luo Yang is the major thought, and there’s a smaller half-thought that will come after me? And if I feed you enough, you’ll protect me?”
Joy.
One thing after another—never a moment’s peace. Xu Fengnian asked a crucial question, “Then tell me, who is stronger between the major thought and the minor thought?”
The spirit hesitated briefly, drew a large circle, then a small one, and slashed its throat. Xu Fengnian relaxed slightly, but then it drew a small circle again, pointed at Xu Fengnian, and mimicked the throat-slash.
Xu Fengnian inhaled sharply, “I saw a half-hidden embroidery on a maid’s sachet from the Zhong family—it was like a beauty half-hiding behind a lute. Is your minor thought a half-faced woman?”
The spirit nodded stiffly.
It turned back to the sorrowful face.
Xu Fengnian turned and waved his hand, “Fine, then. Let’s fight side by side one more time for our own fates. If the wind turns bad, we run—let’s go!”
Back at the riverbank, the white-haired swordsman stood for a long time, murmuring, “You survived all that? Impressive. I once teased a woman from the Princess’s Tomb, and they locked my shoulder blades for life. You must truly have some skill.”
The old swordsman dragged his sword slowly, lost in thought.
That handsome young man who once swam in the lake had truly grown up.
At the Hukou Waterfall, the Yellow River plunged into the great trough.
A streak of green and a streak of white rose to the surface.
Like a lotus blooming from the water.
She was still smiling.
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