In a foreign land fraught with peril, there is nothing more joyous than meeting an old friend. This holds true for Hong Shu as well as for the white-haired warrior Lao Kui. Unfortunately, Xu Fengnian had no time to savor such joy, for Lao Kui, whom he had once freed from beneath the Tide Listening Lake, was acting erratically. Two gleaming broadswords, impaling his shoulder blades, danced wildly through the air, whirling straight toward Xu Fengnian. If Liu Daigu’s Stelehand from Zhong Mansion was like a woman’s delicate embroidery, then Lao Kui’s was a bold, sweeping stroke of ink. In an instant, the courtyard of the Seasonal Festivalswas swept into a tempest. Even the fish near the bait on the hook, sensing the ripples from the old watermelon vendor’s line, flicked their tails and fled.
Xu Fengnian offered no explanation, instead feigning weakness. Then, suddenly, he struck. Employing the Swimming Fish Style he had mastered among the bison herds, and using the rhythm of the Hu Jia tune he had secretly observed, he deflected a series of fierce sword strikes. Then, leaping upward, he delivered a crushing blow known as the Immortal’s Blessing, driving Lao Kui into the ground. Kneeling in the crater, Lao Kui did not growl in anger but instead grinned broadly. A man so old and wise naturally understood the gravity of the moment. He did not shout or boast, merely murmuring in admiration, “What a young prince! Without even drawing your blade, you already have two or three parts of my fire.”
Xu Fengnian smiled bitterly. “Master Chu, you flatter me.”
Lao Kui leapt from the pit and threw an arm around Xu Fengnian’s neck, showing no formality at all. “Not at all! You’ve grown mightily, boy. I count myself as half your master, and it brings me joy to see you thrive.”
Xu Fengnian winced but did not bother to protest. The old fisherman, left aside, remained composed and did not even glance their way—he knew his place. Yet this restraint seemed unnatural. Lao Kui, unable to hold his tongue, dragged Xu Fengnian to sit by the lake and poured out the truth like beans from a bamboo tube, revealing many shocking secrets.
“That old man over there is the Seasonal Festivalsof Xhehe Province, He Lian Wei Wu. Like me, he’s a guest scholar of the Princess Mausoleum, though our paths differ—he leans toward the literary, while I favor the martial. Obviously, I’m the stronger of the two. I know you’re clever, boy, with a mind full of twists and turns, never straightforward. So I won’t beat around the bush—listen well, believe it or not. Back then, Xu Shao led over twenty thousand troops here. He Lian Wu Wei wasn’t skilled in martial arts and was mediocre at commanding troops. He nearly got slaughtered by a fat pig named Chu. But Xu Shao spared his life, thus saving him. Even if He Lian knows who you are, he won’t make trouble for you. You can eat, drink, and rest well here. Though the maids in his mansion are mostly old and plain, if you’re really desperate, you can manage in the dark. As for why I ended up fighting Jian Jiu Huang and locked beneath the lake—well, that’s a story best left untold. It’s not something to be proud of. And how I became a guest scholar of the Princess Mausoleum? There’s a rule—I can’t say.”
He Lian finally interrupted, offering Xu Fengnian a warm smile before turning to his old friend with a mocking glare. “What can’t be said? It’s just that this lecher had no sense and lusted after a girl from the Princess Mausoleum, admiring her full, round buttocks like a full moon. He tried to force himself on her but was instead beaten to the ground by a woman and captured. That ‘guest scholar’ title was self-proclaimed. The Princess Mausoleum has only had six guest scholars in three hundred years, and the first five are all dead. The sixth sits beside you now. You’re just spouting nonsense and clinging to pride while suffering. If not for those twin blades piercing your shoulder bones, forcing you to abandon the sword and take up the blade, you’d still be wandering the wrong path of swordsmanship, never achieving the martial prowess you now possess.”
Lao Kui did not grow angry at his friend’s taunts but instead looked distant, sitting cross-legged and gazing at the lake. “She really was a fine girl.”
He Lian sneered. “If you could look at her again now and still say that, I’d respect you.”
Lao Kui laughed. “We’re both old and near death. No need to meet again. Let me keep the good memory from back then.”
Xu Fengnian stood and bowed respectfully. “Xu Fengnian pays respects to Seasonal FestivalsHe Lian.”
He Lian did not put on airs, setting aside his fishing rod with a wave of his hand. “No need for ceremony. Out here beyond the city walls, we hit it off. We could be friends across generations. If you still feel awkward, just call me uncle.”
Lao Kui was surprised. “He Lian, old man, I’ve never seen you treat any young man this kindly. What’s the deal? Because he’s Xu Shao’s eldest son, and you’re laying the groundwork to betray your country?”
He Lian cursed, “You spew nonsense like your mother’s stinky fart!”
A white-robed figure strode across the lake, and Xu Fengnian’s head throbbed. But when he saw the behavior of the two old men beside him, he was utterly bewildered. He Lian, the mighty Seasonal Festivalsof Xhehe Province, second only to a few, Shooted his sleeve and rose from his small bamboo stool, hands folded at his waist, assuming a posture of respectful welcome. Lao Kui, though reluctant, knelt and placed his hands on the ground, his deep voice rumbling, “A fallen servant of the Princess Mausoleum greets the Great Thought.”
The Princess Mausoleum ranked among the top five sects in the Northern Desert, standing alongside titanic forces like the Army Mountain and the Sword and Zither Bureau. It was shrouded in mystery, its eight-hundred-year lineage rarely interacting with the outside world. In the secret scrolls of the Tide Listening Pavilion, Xu Fengnian had only learned that the Princess Mausoleum was divided into the Great Thought and Lesser Thought factions. The Dunhuang Flying Immortal Dance, personally trained by Hong Shu, was a hallmark of the Lesser Thought lineage. Xu Fengnian never imagined that the demon Luo Yang would be connected to the Princess Mausoleum, let alone holding the rank of Great Thought. In his mind, Luo Yang had always been a lone genius, a solitary figure who vanished into history, leaving no grave or mourners.
After Luo Yang’s arrival, the atmosphere grew strange. She bent down, picked up He Lian’s fishing rod, changed the bait, and cast the line into the lake. The Melonfarmer, secretly a guest scholar of the Princess Mausoleum, was respectful yet unafraid. Sitting back on his stool, he turned and smiled. “Fengnian, I ask you—why is it called the Princess Mausoleum?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head.
He Lian spoke slowly. “It was the tomb of the beloved youngest daughter of the founding emperor of the Great Qin Dynasty. Father and daughter were buried together, in the same mausoleum but not the same chamber. The women of the later Princess Mausoleum were all tomb guardians.”
Xu Fengnian asked, puzzled, “But the tomb of the Great Qin Empress is in the Dragon Waist Province?”
He Lian glanced at Luo Yang before chuckling softly. “That’s one of those palace secrets that never reach the dinner table. Do you want to hear it?”
Xu Fengnian didn’t hold back. “Earlier, at the neighboring estate, I accidentally became a would-be assassin of Lu Ci Bu and Zhong’s eldest son. I caught a whiff of Uncle’s special drunken crab from the Yellow River. Perhaps we could pair it with some wine?”
He Lian kicked Lao Kui. “You old rogue stole and hid the last few jars of drunken crab. Go on, fetch them.”
Lao Kui scratched his white hair, rose with a rumble, and the chains of his twin blades clanked. Soon, he returned with several jars, tossing one to He Lian and Xu Fengnian each. But the jar meant for Xu Fengnian was intercepted midair by the white-robed woman. She tore off the paper seal and, without bothering to eat the crab, tilted her head back and drank straight from the jar, shamelessly wasting the delicacy.
Men always chatter more when talking about women, especially those with stories. Three grown men—one a powerful Seasonal Festivals, one the mysterious heir of Beiliang, and one a wandering swordsman—gossiped like old women about the Li family and the Wang family, utterly undignified. He Lian mumbled, “I’ve heard from elders that the woman the Qin Emperor loved was poisoned by the jealous Empress. It’s said that the Emperor, secretly bringing her to the Lookout Tower in Li Mountain, said, ‘Now that I’ve unified the world, I can love beauty over the land.’ Somehow, those words reached the Empress’s ears. The next day, the woman was poisoned. She was already with child. The Emperor raged, ignoring the ministers’ protests, and issued a secret decree forbidding the Empress from being buried alongside him. Later, the Empress died in sorrow. The Emperor seemed to regret it, giving her the Lipearl—a treasure he had shared in conquering the world—and placing it in her coffin.”
Xu Fengnian, unaware of his own recklessness, blurted, “And then Luo Yang took it?”
Lao Kui’s smile was strange. He Lian paused, then teased, “If you want the answer, ask her yourself.”
Xu Fengnian, resigned, called out, “ Hey. How did you become the Great Thought of the Princess Mausoleum?”
Luo Yang kept her eyes on the lake, waiting for a fish to bite. Her reply was cold and distant. “You want to die?”
Xu Fengnian laughed awkwardly. Lao Kui smirked, adding salt to the wound. “Boy, you really shame us men.”
Luo Yang lifted her rod. There was no fish on the hook.
What she reeled in was the entire lake.
A great wave of water.
Even Lao Kui fell silent in awe.
Luo Yang cast her rod back into the lake and rose, departing as mysteriously as she had arrived.
He Lian chuckled. “That Great Thought is fine in every way except… well…”
He left the sentence unfinished, letting the silence speak.
Changing the subject, he explained, “A few years ago, the Zhong family bought land far from the Yellow River. This time, they claimed to be rerouting the river to turn barren fields into fertile ones. If I weren’t a guest scholar of the Princess Mausoleum, I might have been deceived. Zhong Shen Tong promised to send twenty thousand jin of iron tools into Xhehe Province within five years, selling them cheaply to the The Azure Legion. For me, that was a bait I couldn’t ignore. Not to mention, the demon Zhong Tuo is the lover of the Lesser Thought faction of the Princess Mausoleum. Worse still, Hong Jingyan was also involved in the river interception and tomb robbery. That man is cunning and ambitious beyond measure. The entire Northern Desert martial world may not be enough to satisfy his hunger. The Great Thought was able to swallow the pearl only because he intended to let her ‘cultivate’ it. Fortunately, no one can calculate perfectly. Hong underestimated the Great Thought’s cultivation breakthrough. When the pearl matured, instead of stealing her power, he was defeated and nearly lost control of his martial arts.”
Xu Fengnian sighed. “It sounds like Hong Jingyan is even more terrifying than Toba Bosa.”
He Lian nodded. “Toba Bosa and Xu Shao are of the same kind. Even if we lose to them, we accept it. But Hong Jingyan is different. He is treacherous and dangerous. You must be wary. Recently, he went to the border of Liang and Mang with the copper man with a tray. On the surface, it was a duel with Chen Zhibao, but what happened beneath the surface, who knows?”
Xu Fengnian looked at the lake, now calm like a mirror, and felt a suffocating sense of impending storm.
Lao Kui suddenly spoke. “Boy, do you know that the monk Long Shu of Liang Chan Temple has arrived at the Daoist Temple of Virtue? He sat at the Heavenly Gate for three days and nights. Pitiful, really—he was beaten for three days by the Qilin Daoist.”
Xu Fengnian was deeply concerned. “Is the old abbot dead?”
Lao Kui shook his head. “Not yet. His Buddha King Kongbody is truly formidable. But I don’t think he can last much longer. This battle between the Daoist leader and the Buddhist head—well, the old monk is in a tight spot.”
Xu Fengnian understood the implication. It seemed like a duel between Daoist and Buddhist leaders, but in truth, it was a war between Daoism and Buddhism.
He Lian smiled. “After seeing the monk’s compassionate gaze, I wonder if we’ll also witness the White Robemonk’s wrathful countenance.”
Xu Fengnian thought of the girls Dongxi and the little monks Nanbei.
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