A hundred riders charged towards the city, clad in iron armor that gleamed like a forest of steel.
At their head rode a corpulent general, weighing at least two hundred jin. Yet he appeared anything but cumbersome—his figure was robust, his skin as dark as charcoal, and his mount a massive black warhorse. Behind him, the ironclad cavalry galloped in a straight line, their formation unbroken. Remarkably, beside this stout warrior rode a delicate woman, keeping pace effortlessly. Draped in flowing, colorful robes, she seemed like a celestial being descending from the heavens. Her gown was a deep, tranquil azure, with a tender yellow undergarment that added a touch of softness to her elegant figure. At her waist hung an ancient sword, its sheath a vivid peacock green. Though riding alongside the most elite cavalry of the Northern Despotate, she was no mere ornament—her presence only enhanced the imposing might of the general’s personal guard.
The Northern Despotate was vast in territory, but since the unification of the Spring and Autumn Warring States by the Liyang Dynasty, six massive wars had been waged. Only once had the central front—where the Dragon Waist Prefecture lay—been involved. Most battles had occurred along the eastern front in the Liang provinces, and the western front, where the Gu Sai Prefecture of the Northern Despotate faced off against the Liangzhou of Liyang.
A hundred paces from Feihu City, the general eased his horse’s pace and glanced upward at the Sword Pavilion. The dust-covered warrior spat out a wad of phlegm and muttered curses under his breath. Behind him, the hundred riders moved in perfect unison—each horse maintaining the exact distance from the one ahead, even as they slowed.
The general was surnamed Dong. His father was a scholar from the remnants of the Spring and Autumn Warring States, while his mother came from a humble local family in the Northern Despotate. After more than a decade in the army, Dong transformed his two hundred jin of fat into pure muscle. Rising from an obscure foot soldier, he had become the most formidable military figure in the Southern Court of the Northern Despotate—equal in rank to the Jie-shi Commanders of Gu Sai Prefecture, the three great generals, and other high-ranking officials of the Southern Court.
According to the laws of the Northern Despotate, even if Southern officials held the same rank as those in the Northern Royal Court, their actual status was considered one rank lower. Only those Southern dignitaries specially honored by the Northern Empress could rise half a rank in status. This deadweight of a general was the sole noble in the entire Northern Empire to have received three such special honors, making him a figure of immense influence. Though his official rank should have been a fourth-grade general, his military authority reached the second grade. The three great generals of the western front—Huang Songpu, Liu Gui, and Yang Yuanzan—as well as the two Jie-shi Commanders of Gu Sai and Jinxi, all second-grade officials whose sneezes could shake the borders, had all been cursed by this two-hundred-jin brute. He had even slammed the table with Huang Songpu, the Southern Court Grand Chancellor who had received a rare imperial honor, and rumors claimed he had once rolled up his sleeves and fought Yang Yuanzan in a duel. That this deadweight had survived to this day was nothing short of a miracle.
The general gritted his teeth in fury. “How the hell is that old turtle, Murong Baoding, raising his brats? I already sent a secret letter, yet Murong Zhangtai still dared to lead his private troops to ambush my sister-in-law and niece? Does he really think being ranked ninth on the Martial List means he can rest easy? Forget about the blood feud with my sister-in-law, but if even a hair on my niece—whom I treat as my own daughter—is harmed, I swear I’ll feud with Murong Baoding to the grave! And if any of his clan’s brats dare to snatch military glory in Gu Sai Prefecture again, I’ll make sure they crawl home so beaten they won’t recognize their own parents!”
As they neared Feihu City, several scouts had already been circling half a mile away. Dong paid them no heed. With the riding and combat skills of those scouts, any of his men could easily shoot them from their saddles. In terms of martial prowess, only the White Horse Scouts led by Chen Zhibao could rival his own Crow Scouts. After years of fierce, back-and-forth clashes, the outcome between them had always been a toss-up.
Dong grinned, revealing a sinister expression. He knew he wasn’t the charming type. Before joining the army, children on the street would burst into tears at the sight of him. Apart from men who shared his spirit, he had never been popular with women or children. Thus, whenever he did encounter someone who took a liking to him, he cherished them deeply. There were only two women in his life who had done so, and both had become his wives. The world might call them “First Wife” and “Second Wife,” but Dong treated them equally. The first to be formally wed into the Dong household was the “First Wife,” and the second was the “Second Wife”—simple as that. “There’s no arguing about it. I’ve never been one for reason anyway.”
The woman beside him, the beloved daughter of the old master of the Ti Bing Mountain, had been snatched away by him. “That old bastard keeps badmouthing my martial skills. You understand nothing of military tactics! A martial artist might be a match for a thousand men, but I, Dong Zhuo, am a match for ten thousand. I’ve never liked that old man anyway. Don’t think you can yell at me just because you’re my father-in-law and a Grandmaster of the Martial Way. How many times have you spat in my face? I’ve just been too kind-hearted to retaliate. At most, I’ll turn around and go home to spend the night pampering your daughter. That’s called one thing subduing another.”
Seeing that all-too-familiar grin on his face, the woman beside him sighed, “Husband, what mischief are you planning now? Who’s the unlucky one this time?”
Dong laughed heartily, “I’ve always been a man of virtue, known for my kindness and benevolence.”
The woman, whose flowing sleeves fluttered like those of a celestial being, frowned slightly, “You truly care so much for that child, Tao Manwu? You won’t be this anxious when it comes to the children I bear you, will you?”
Dong chuckled, “Now, now, don’t be like that. Tao Manwu is the only child I’ve ever truly loved from the bottom of my heart. He’s also my elder brother’s orphan. What’s wrong with showing him a little extra care? You and the Princess of Dayong may not get along, but jealousy between women is only natural. But to be jealous of a child? That’s not good. If we were alone, I’d have to discipline you with a spanking.”
The daughter of the Ti Bing Mountain Master had intended to let out a slight huff, but seeing how he had ridden day and night without rest, only stopping when exhaustion overtook him, his face streaked with layers of grime and his lips cracked and bleeding, she softened. He had mobilized nearly all his resources to track down the young niece who had vanished from the Yatoulu Inn, chasing every scrap of information. This was the first time she had seen him act so ruthlessly outside of battle or wife-hunting. Looking at his gaunt, sunken cheeks, she couldn’t bring herself to argue with him.
Changing the subject, she noticed the soldiers at the city gate, their armor gleaming, and murmured, “Isn’t Tan Changping secretly your good friend? Why would he block you?”
Dong yawned. He was a master at digging traps for border generals, so skillfully that the generals might not even realize it for years. Then, when they finally did, they would be too tired to curse him properly. But to his wife, he was always honest. “If Tan were serving in the Southern Court, being close to me would be fine. But now that he’s in the Royal Court as a Bell Bearer, if we continue to be too familiar, the Emperor might not mind, but the Yelü and Murong clans might gossip like old women. That wouldn’t be good. So I staged a ‘bitter meat stratagem’—not clever enough to fool an old fox, but good enough to deceive a few fools. At least it saves face for everyone, and it shows the North that there’s a young man in Feihu City bold enough to challenge Dong Zhuo. That Bell Bearer position is as good as his. You, on the other hand, have been spoiled by your father. You don’t like to think, and you’re much slower than her. Don’t glare at me like that, my dear. I know your eyes are beautiful—I was captivated the first time I saw them. I lost my soul to that gaze. Besides, being slow isn’t so bad. If you were as clever as her, I’d be exhausted. Take this as an example—just an example—say I went to a pleasure house with my brothers, came home drunk, and she could smell the wine and perfume. She’d make me kneel on a rice paddle. But you, you’d just be happy with the rouge I brought home. Which one do you think I prefer?”
The woman smiled, a smile that held a hint of danger.
Dong slapped his own mouth. And so, the planned duel between him and Tan Changping, which would have lasted dozens of exchanges, became nothing more than the future Bell Bearer being unhorsed by a single sword strike from the woman beside him.
As Dong entered the city, he sighed, “Sorry, my brother Changping. It’s all your little sister-in-law’s fault for being in a bad mood today.”
The woman beside him, whose sword moved like a dragon, showed no emotion and softly asked, “Husband, how shall we proceed in finding your niece?”
Dong rode out of the city gate, shielding his eyes from the sun, and said calmly, “Seal the city. Then turn every inch of it upside down. I won’t leave until I find her.”
The woman asked anxiously, “Husband, are you not afraid of criticism?”
Dong snorted coldly, “Let anyone who dares oppose me come and talk to me. I’ll reason with them. If they won’t listen, I’ll crush them under my iron cavalry.”
Two of his closest guards, riding nearby, exchanged knowing smiles. That was their General Dong for them. He might not have much education, but he loved to pretend to be refined and debate with others. More often than not, he would end up red-faced and shouting, and if that wasn’t enough, he’d start throwing punches. The Southern Court officials hated this shameless bastard, especially during the Spring Festival, when Dong, with his scribbled calligraphy like wriggling worms, insisted on showing off his literary talent by going door to door, forcing his Spring Festival couplets onto every Southern Court official’s home. One year, a neighbor official and an inspector had tried to trick him—claiming the wind had blown off their couplets or that firecrackers had damaged them. The next day, Dong had cheerfully carried two new couplets and pasted them on their gates with rice paste, grinning as he said, “This time, not even wind or firecrackers can tear them off!” In the Western Capital, where nobles were as common as dogs, only General Huang Songpu dared to keep Dong Zhuo out, with a stone tablet at his gate clearly stating, “Dong Zhuo is forbidden within fifty paces of this residence.”
In the Southern Court of the Northern Despotate, aside from the border troops, only General Liu Gui maintained a cordial relationship with this loathsome brute. Two years ago, General Liu had even proposed to marry his granddaughter to Dong, but the fat man had used the excuse of having a fierce wife. Not long after, he married the only daughter of the Ti Bing Mountain Master, reportedly enraging General Liu so much that he nearly donned armor and ridden out to kill the scheming fatty.
The woman spoke softly, “If you knew it would come to this, why didn’t you personally escort your sister-in-law and niece to Liuxia City back then?”
Dong’s expression darkened, “That sister-in-law doesn’t seem the type to remain faithful to my elder brother’s memory. I’ve never been close to her. Why should I meet her? My elder brother had barely died when she wrote to me, asking for an official title for her son. I’ve always been stubborn—if you ask me, I’ll refuse. If you don’t ask, I might just pave the way for you. My elder brother had only one son. If raised by her, he’ll grow up to be a spoiled, good-for-nothing brat with no future. In my opinion, he should be thrown into my army. If he survives, he’ll become one of my Crow Scouts. As long as I, Dong Zhuo, have wealth and power, his future will be secure. But would she allow it? Wouldn’t she worry herself to death? And wouldn’t she curse me behind my back? That boy doesn’t take after my elder brother. He takes after his mother. That’s why I only love little Manwu.”
Dong snarled, “Once I find Manwu, I’ll make sure that little girl lives even more freely than any princess. Anyone who dares harm her is asking for death!”
The woman gently touched her hair and murmured, “According to the reports, a young swordsman wandering through Longyao Prefecture has taken little Manwu. What will you do when you meet him?”
Dong’s expression softened slightly, and he grinned, “I don’t care who he is or where he comes from. As long as he hasn’t wronged Manwu, I’ll reward him handsomely if he asks.”
The Ti Bing Mountain woman smiled, “That’s what I love most about you, my husband.”
Dong laughed heartily, “My dear, I love you in many ways.”
A woman born into the highest echelons of the martial world, who had always looked upon the world with cold eyes, turned to this deadweight who was her kryptonite and gave him a look—a look of genuine affection that only she could offer.
Dong narrowed his eyes toward the city, muttering, “I hate this Feihu City. It’s too effeminate. Just looking at it makes me sick.”
The cavalry did not immediately ride to the city governor’s mansion but instead circled the city symbolically. As they passed a tavern in the northeast corner, the woman suddenly turned to glance at a window on the upper floor.
Dong frowned, “What’s wrong?”
The woman hesitated, then shook her head.
Dong assumed it was some rogue admiring his wife and dismissed it. Normally, he might have beaten the man senseless, but today was not the day. He had only brought a hundred riders, and he couldn’t afford to search the city aimlessly. He would need the local authorities to assist.
Dong Zhuo exhaled deeply and whispered, “Hold on a little longer, little Manwu. Uncle Dong is coming.”
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