After burying the young noble heir of the Zhong family, who had barely emerged from obscurity before meeting his grave, Xu Fengnian idly played with a string of golden bells he had taken from the corpse, their chime tinkling in the wind. Accompanied by Lu Chen, who had inexplicably become his servant girl, he headed deeper into the heart of the Xihan province. They had not walked far when they encountered a band of horse thieves—about thirty men in total. Compared to the fierce and well-equipped bandits they had previously met, these thieves were much more ragged, lacking even standard-issue weapons, let alone armor like the fish-scale mail reserved for military officers. The only exception was their leader, who wielded a horse halberd. Unfortunately, the weapon was overly ornate: its spearhead was forged from fine steel, the butt made of red copper, the shaft lacquered in vermilion, and tied with a tuft of sable fur embroidered in a floral pattern.
After the Spring and Autumn Wars, expensive and difficult-to-handle weapons like the horse halberd and iron Halberd became rare, hidden away like beauties in seclusion. Those who wielded them were often aristocratic youths seeking to flaunt their status. Yet, on the battlefield, when soldiers sought glory, they would swarm such riders, surrounding them like targets for mobbing and slaughter. These halberd-wielding youths, often inexperienced in warfare, were even more tempting than generals in gleaming armor, for their heads were easier to sever than those of seasoned officers skilled in survival.
Without hesitation, Xu Fengnian rushed forward and captured their leader, extracting the truth after a little intimidation. As expected, these thieves were hired by Zhong Gui to stage a fake fight, hoping to win Lu Chen’s affection. What a pitiful effort, all for naught. Lu Chen then watched as these thieves were slaughtered without mercy, her eyes reflecting a strange gleam. Xu Fengnian selected two steeds, rode hard for thirty miles without encountering a soul, and paused briefly to rinse the horses’ nostrils with water from his flask. Lu Chen, her head wrapped in a kerchief, lifted a corner of it to reveal her slightly dry, cherry lips, and curiously asked, “Are you really called Xu Lang? Surely you’ve reached the Small Sage realm?”
Xu Fengnian did not reply. She asked again, “Are you planning to use my identity for something? I’ve already told you—we merely left the main group with Zhong Gui to take a detour. Now I’m the only one heading to the Jieyuan residence in Xihan. If our trail is discovered, how will you explain it?”
Seeing the young man with the sword and book bundle still practicing his silence, Lu Chen persisted, “Traveling by horse, stopping every thirty miles—you must be from Beiliang?”
Xu Fengnian, still tending to her horse, did not look up. After stowing the water flask and mounting his steed, he rode on. Lu Chen, stubborn as ever, struggled to catch up, riding alongside him and gazing at this enigmatic young man with the same longing a devoted maiden might show her beloved. Finally, Xu Fengnian spoke, “I’ve changed my mind. I’ll take you to a safe place and then leave.”
Her eyes clouded with emotion.
Xu Fengnian sneered, “One moment you were ready to die, wishing to be buried with Zhong Gui. Now you won’t even bother to collect his corpse. Is that just your way, or is it how all noblewomen are? Even if I took you as a concubine, I might wake one night with a rope around my neck. I’d never sleep soundly.”
Lu Chen pondered thoughtfully, as if reflecting on herself, and slowly replied, “The one thing I hate most is being deceived. I once vowed that if I ever married, I wouldn’t mind if my husband was unfaithful, as long as he told me beforehand and didn’t bring the other woman home to insult me. I would still manage the household well. But if I were the last to know, if I became the laughingstock, I would take scissors and cut off his manhood, then carve up that woman’s face so she could never tempt another man again!”
Xu Fengnian laughed, “You don’t look like that kind of woman. When I first saw you at the Wu family ruins, I thought you were gentle, the kind of girl who wouldn’t dare complain to her parents even when wronged.”
Lu Chen bit her lip and said softly, “But that’s exactly who I am.”
Xu Fengnian smirked, “Should I just strike you down now and be done with it?”
She gazed at him with a seductive smile, “Master, you mustn’t be so cruel.”
Xu Fengnian merely smiled. Talking with her, watching her act—there was a strange amusement in it, like reading a story that defied expectations.
Noticing that Xu Fengnian was in a talkative mood, she seized the moment, speaking softly, “I suspect you come from a martial family, not from a military lineage like Zhong Gui. Because when you kill, you feel guilt.”
Xu Fengnian burst into laughter, “You know nothing!”
She tilted her head, feigning innocence, “Did I guess wrong?”
He laughed again, “Stop pretending. I’ve seen more beautiful women than I can count. You’re not worth more than seventy copper coins.”
Lu Chen didn’t mind the insult, murmuring to herself, “I’ve never thought of myself as beautiful.”
Changing the subject, Xu Fengnian asked, “You said your families were traveling together to Xihan. What was your family’s purpose? Who led the way?”
Lu Chen shook her head, “I never cared for such things. I’ve never been close to the inner workings.”
Xu Fengnian glanced at her long, flowing eyes and gave up.
Lu Chen smiled, “I can’t believe Zhong Gui, who was praised for his talent and courage, died so suddenly—and so ingloriously.”
Xu Fengnian tossed the golden bells aside. Originally, he had intended to use Lu Chen’s identity to wreak havoc deep in Xihan, killing as many as he could. But upon learning that several Zhong family experts were also on this journey—including Zhong Tu, ranked seventh among the Demon Lords, and even Zhong Shentong, one of the twelve Northern Liang generals, disguised among the group—he reconsidered. He didn’t want to risk missing his appointment with the White-clad Luoyang. Even if he escaped the Zhong family’s pursuit, leaving Northern Mang would be difficult. Seeing this, Lu Chen smiled and pulled a dagger from her sleeve, bluntly saying, “I was planning to kill you when I had the chance. Now, should I hand it to you or throw it away?”
Without turning his head, Xu Fengnian said, “Keep it. If you haven’t drawn it before the next thirty miles, you’ll die just like Zhong Gui.”
Lu Chen smiled happily, “I knew I was right.”
Xu Fengnian muttered, “The martial world always has masters, but rarely true sages.”
Lu Chen asked, “Then, Master, are you a master or a sage?”
Xu Fengnian shook his head, “I can’t be a sage.”
They camped for the night in a sheltered hollow at the foot of a wind-swept hill. The temperature swung wildly between day and night. Xu Fengnian gathered dry branches for the fire, secretly nurturing his sword while feigning sleep the whole night. At dawn, seeing Lu Chen still dozing, he climbed to the hilltop and gazed at the sky. Suddenly, he returned to the foot of the hill, his eyes filled with complexity as he stared at the trembling woman holding the dagger. She had slashed four deep gashes across her face, her skin torn open. What kind of willpower must she possess to do such a thing?
Both of them understood perfectly well: with every step closer to Xihan city, she edged closer to death. The Zhong and Lu families were filled with cunning and deadly figures. Zhong Gui, a master of martial arts, had died, yet she, a frail woman, had survived—an anomaly that would raise suspicion. To escape detection and retain her fortune was nearly impossible. Even Xu Fengnian couldn’t think of a flawless excuse for her survival. His words about taking her to safety were hollow; the shadow that once protected her would become the most dangerous place for a woman of her name.
This pair, bound together by fate, seemed neither of them to be truly good.
After disfiguring herself, she could claim that an enemy killed Zhong Gui and spared her as an insult to both families. Thus, from a certain death, she carved a single breath of life.
But for a woman, was the price too great? Was it too ruthless? Both men and women value life, but for women, beauty is often their most cherished treasure.
Xu Fengnian felt a surge of rage, nearly drawing his sword to kill her. But he exhaled slowly, suppressing the urge.
The woman looked at the young man whose name she didn’t know, her eyes dazed—not with tears, but with blood streaming down her face.
The woman who once said she wasn’t pretty finally focused her gaze, tears welling up.
Smiling through the pain, she whispered, “It hurts.”
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