When the young man in a fox fur robe, seated cross-legged on his horse with one hand pressing down, was about to have his head shattered in an instant by Xu Fengnian’s decisive strike, the master and servant underestimated Xu Fengnian, who had traveled extensively across the grasslands. Xu Fengnian himself had not anticipated that this noble youth possessed such profound internal energy. Although the youth seemed to be knocked off his horse in one move, flung five or six zhang away, in reality, the moment Xu Fengnian’s palm touched the youth’s forehead, it was repelled. Furthermore, the elderly man in brocade had already left his horse, employing a strategy to relieve the siege by attacking elsewhere. With both palms thrust forward, he unleashed a fierce gale aimed directly at Xu Fengnian’s head, a deadly exchange of one life for another, which Xu Fengnian was unwilling to accept. He could only watch helplessly as the perfect opportunity to capture the leader slipped away. After throwing the youth in fox fur, Xu Fengnian quickly shifted sideways, increasing the distance between himself and the brocade-clad retainer.
The young nobleman sitting on the ground had his wolf hat tilted sideways. He grinned, revealing a set of white teeth, gently touching his burning forehead without hurrying to rise. He clicked his tongue in amazement, his energy circulating like dragons and snakes weaving through his body, concealing profound mysteries within. Xu Fengnian’s failure to kill him with one strike was not unjustified. The Tuoba family was renowned in the Northern Desert for their formidable physical training, laying a solid foundation in martial cultivation. This young man had been taken by his father to the icy plains of the far north since childhood, where he drilled holes in the ice to dive and hold his breath, sleeping on ice year-round. Unlike the Daoist practice of cultivating from within outward, his method was the reverse—cultivating from the outside inward. Among the four levels of the first rank, including Jin Gang, Zhi Xuan, and Tian Xiang, each time Tuoba Bodhisattva (Tuoba Puti) advanced, he was truly deserving of being the foremost figure in the Northern Desert. A tiger father would not have a dog son. This young aristocrat, who claimed to be second in the Northern Desert, with none daring to claim first, was equally outstanding, hence earning the nickname Little Tuoba.
It was fortunate he managed to restrain his impulsive nature and not draw his sword immediately. After rising, he patted his back and, unusually raising his hand to signal the brocade-clad henchman not to retaliate, laughed, “Very good, very good. With your skills, you’re not far from the first rank. If you still have any strength left, that would be even better! Both your mind and abilities have impressed me greatly. From which southern court family did you emerge as such a promising talent? Tell me your name. I won’t skin you alive. Any talk of being a foster child is just a joke, so don’t take it to heart.”
After the Northern Desert Empress ascended the throne and consulted with officials from both northern and southern capitals, a rough classification of noble families was established, modeled after the Chinese clan system. Excluding the imperial families as the highest-ranking first class, the next level consisted of the ten families known as “Gao Yu” and “Zhuo Ran.” Among these, seven were from the north and three from the south. The southern three families were all ancient noble houses within the Longguan aristocratic group, dominating the southern court’s political landscape. Naturally, the young nobleman in the wolf hat and fox fur assumed that this deeply hidden southern figure was a direct lineage (direct-line) heir cultivated by one of the three southern families. Among the thirty-two individuals ranked at the highest level across both courts, eighteen were from the Northern Desert, enough to make the Liyang Kingdom, which prided itself on producing talented individuals, feel ashamed. Fortunately, the top three spots were occupied by Wang Xianzhi and Deng Tai’a, salvaging much of their dignity. Besides his father, Hong Jingyan, Luoyang, and Murong Baoding—the four divine and demonic figures—and the Sage National Teacher Qilin Zhenren, the five major sects, including the Tībīng Mountain and Qijian Le Fu, claimed six spots. Among the ten notorious villains, excluding the overlapping position held by Luoyang and the deceased Xie Ling, five of the eight infamous martial cultivators were listed, along with the rising stars Yelü Dongchuang and Murong Longshui, totaling eighteen individuals.
Six disciples of Qilin Zhenren from the Daode Sect lingered at the bottleneck of the first rank. Daoist cultivators often entered the first rank at the Zhi Xuan level, but many spent their entire lives unable to cross the threshold into the first rank, missing it by just a hair’s breadth. Thus, it was no wonder that Little Tuoba was amazed by the sight of this young man before him, wearing a saber and not much older than himself, who had already crossed the threshold of the second rank. The second rank, known as the lesser master level, was not something as common as cabbages, which could be planted in autumn and harvested in winter. His father had once mentioned that the current Liyang Dynasty had accumulated many second-rank talents with the potential to reach the pinnacle, and the current Northern Desert dominance might not last long.
Xu Fengnian smiled slightly, “Just a minor family, not worth mentioning.”
The young man in fox fur let out a slightly disappointed “Oh,” then suddenly sprang into action, using the opponent’s own technique against him, drawing his blade and slashing downward fiercely. Though his saber was ordinary like that of a common cavalryman, in his hands, it became a formidable weapon. The elderly man in brocade kept his hands in his sleeves, seemingly watching with half-closed eyes, but his feet subtly moved in sync with Little Tuoba’s blade. Xu Fengnian took a few steps back, his left palm striking the hilt of the Chunlei saber, slicing the short blade backward in a circular arc. Just barely dodging the strike, he snapped his fingers, and the sheathed Chunlei saber spun away from the battlefield. Almost instantly, Xu Fengnian leaned his body backward, nearly falling, evading the second slash aimed horizontally at him. Little Tuoba also dodged the returning Chunlei saber behind him, taking a few steps sideways. The third slash came upward diagonally, but Xu Fengnian resumed his upright posture, lightly flicking his finger. The Chunlei saber continued its graceful rotation, its sheath clashing against the heavy saber. The nobleman in fox fur snarled with a Sinister grin (malevolent grin), changing from one-handed grip to two, instantly increasing his strength. Having grown up watching countless Master (masters) in combat, he naturally possessed an elevated perspective and skill, aiming to sever the strange energy manipulation of the opponent’s saber control, forcing him to stop his supernatural antics.
As he was about to confidently sever the energy tether, Xu Fengnian closed the distance, ignoring the Chunlei saber, passing by his opponent and delivering another palm strike toward his forehead. The young man in fox fur defied conventional tactics, maintaining his saber’s trajectory without altering his grip or reducing his force. Instead of dodging, he thrust his head forward. Xu Fengnian, expressionless, moved his hand downward, not making direct contact with the opponent’s forehead but instead gliding across his face. With a flick of his wrist, he caught the young man’s chin. With a surge of energy from his arm and sleeve, he suddenly pushed upward, sending the youth, still gripping the saber with both hands, crashing backward. Xu Fengnian then lifted his leg high and kicked toward the chest, delivering a powerful strike.
The young nobleman in fox fur contracted his chest, absorbing most of the force, but still slid backward a great distance after landing, his heavy saber carving a deep line into the ground.
A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, which he casually wiped away with his sleeve. Little Tuoba grinned coldly, having initially intended to endure the full force of the kick to land a devastating blow on his opponent. However, having been trained by his father since childhood, he keenly sensed that if he had gone through with it, the outcome would have been mutual destruction. Worse still, even if he managed to break one of his opponent’s legs, he would have suffered a shattered chest, an unbearable cost. Forced to abandon the strike, he instead angled the saber’s tip toward his opponent’s crotch, betting that if the other dared to ignore the consequences, he would sever his life source. The gamble paid off, but he still ended up taking a heavy blow, his blood churning violently within him—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in a long time.
With the brocade-clad servant ready to assist, the young saber wielder who had not drawn his blade did not press the advantage. Little Tuoba spat out a mouthful of blood and slowly rose to his feet, asking, “You act so confidently—could it be that you’ve entered the first rank?”
Xu Fengnian gripped the Chunlei saber, which no longer felt as fluid in his grasp as before. He had no time to spare for the expressions of astonishment on the faces of Qin Cha’er and the hundred cavalrymen. At a moment of life and death, he had to contend with this young menace while also preparing for the brocade-clad elder’s thunderous strike. He certainly couldn’t afford to waste time admiring others’ shock and awe. As for the lives of the commoners, he had to survive first before he could afford to think of them.
Little Tuoba’s demeanor changed completely, no longer playful or smiling.
“This isn’t a game anymore.”
Xu Fengnian responded with a nonchalant “Oh.”
The young man in fox fur and wolf hat did not become flustered but instead calmed his mind, switching his saber grip from his right hand to his left.
After drawing the blade, there was still a fine sword hanging at his right waist. Being right-handed, he was clearly prepared to draw it at any moment.
Discarding his earlier frivolity, this young man truly brought a significant surprise to Xu Fengnian. With his left hand, his saber techniques surpassed his right, emitting a fierce gale with each strike. Several times, his slashes stirred up sand and stones, nearly piercing through the mirage and reaching the skin. Xu Fengnian furrowed his brows and had to loosen part of his tightly controlled energy, using the sheathed Chunlei saber as a sword. The rolling dragon wall of sword energy, a technique stolen by the Qijian Le Fu and later becoming a famous ci poem pattern called “Kai Shu,” was magnificent and grand. Xu Fengnian’s figure moved like a swimming fish, and though the Chunlei saber was no longer in his hand, he wielded it seamlessly. The young nobleman’s heavy saber emitted a faint purple aura, and while Xu Fengnian’s body evaded the blade’s edge, his sword energy surged again and again, growing stronger with each pass. Just like rolling snowballs, after ten waves of sword energy in the city of Liushou, Tao Qianzhi had been utterly crushed. Now, with countless repetitions of the rolling dragon wall technique, the young man showed signs of defeat, yet there remained a thin barrier unbroken, his saber techniques never falling into disarray.
Accustomed to the relentless clash with the powerful saber, when Little Tuoba thought he had finally grasped a clue, Xu Fengnian, drawing from his experience among stampeding bison, shifted from retreat to a fluid advance, gliding behind Little Tuoba. He flicked his finger to send the Chunlei saber spinning, then grabbed the back of the heavy saber with his left hand, about to make a move. The clearly visible young man, not yet twenty, showed alarm in his eyes. But Xu Fengnian did not seize the opportunity to strike, instead withdrawing swiftly without hesitation. Indeed, the young nobleman, whose acting and martial prowess were equally impressive, finally drew the famous Northern Desert sword from its sheath, carving a vicious crescent arc across Xu Fengnian’s chest. Xu Fengnian exhaled silently, lightly touching the ground with his foot, and drifted backward.
The ground erupted with a thunderous explosion, truly like thunder striking on a clear day.
A giant serpent with a colorful crest on its head burst from the soil, aiming to bite Xu Fengnian’s right foot as he landed.
The brocade-clad elder did not intervene; it was this hidden creature that launched the ambush.
Xu Fengnian did not instinctively pull back his foot and leap, which would have exposed vulnerabilities to the fox-fur youth and the brocade-clad retainer. Instead, he stomped his foot directly into the serpent’s tooth-filled mouth!
The teeth tore through the mirage, carving two bloody grooves along his calves, but Xu Fengnian used the momentum to crush the serpent’s head back into the ground.
With this single stomp, Xu Fengnian suppressed the intense pain and numbness in his calf, merely glancing at the brocade-clad elder who had taken a step forward but then retreated. His phoenix eyes narrowed sharply, finally revealing his murderous intent without restraint. He now knew exactly who this cunning old man was—the seventh-ranked among the Northern Desert’s Ten Villains, Cai Man Jin Xiu Lang (Colorful Serpent Brocade Sleeve Lang).
As a child, this man had been abandoned in the wilds, raised by unknown creatures. Whether it was due to his innate talent or something else, he could understand the language of beasts from an early age. When he descended from the mountains in his youth, he became famous for raising rare birds and beasts. In his prime, he foolishly attempted to steal a young qilin from the Daode Sect’s forbidden grounds, only to have his spine shattered and his martial arts skills destroyed by a single finger strike from the Northern Desert’s national teacher. Yet, he managed to make a comeback, re-entering the Jin Gang level. As for his prospects in martial cultivation, although he could no longer ascend to the Zhi Xuan level, his vast collection of fierce beasts allowed him to engage in combat without personally fighting, making his opponents unable to guard against the beasts he controlled. Particularly notable was how a mother serpent with a seven-colored crest had died on the verge of transforming into a dragon. He had Cut open the belly and dig out the eggs ( Cut open the belly and dig out the eggs literally means “cut open the abdomen and extract the eggs”), obtaining three young serpents. Fed countless elixirs and a hundred types of blood and flesh, after twenty years of unnatural cultivation, they grew to be only slightly smaller than adult mother serpents, making him a formidable villain ranked even above figures like Xie Ling.
The brocade-clad elder chuckled softly, “The outcome is already decided.”
Little Tuoba glanced at Xu Fengnian’s calf, bitten by the colorful serpent, and slowly sheathed his razor-sharp sword, once again adopting a carefree attitude. With a regretful expression, he said, “A pity. Even a Jin Gang-level expert might survive a bite, but within a few hours, they would become a paralyzed puppet. It seems your luck ran out. You’ll still have to endure being buried in sand, skinned, and having your skull filled with mercury. Fortunately, the mercury-induced numbness might spare you the agony of having your skull filled with liquid metal.”
Xu Fengnian asked, “Since this old man is Cai Man Jin Xiu Lang, you must be the younger son of Tuoba Bodhisattva, right?”
Little Tuoba waved his heavy saber and nodded, “Tuoba Chunsun.”
Xu Fengnian gave another indifferent “Oh” and continued, “Chunsun? I prefer Dongsun (winter bamboo shoots).”
Tuoba Chunsun clutched his belly and laughed heartily, clearly delighted.
He particularly enjoyed jokes like this, finding them perfect to hear before killing someone—like a delicious dish that whets the appetite when one has no appetite.
However, his laughter did not last long.
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