Chapter 173: Ballad

At the edge of the Azure Dragon Creek, the Xianyao Taoist Temple could already be seen. Large boats and bamboo rafts slowly docked. Before stepping off the raft, Huang Man’er bent down, turned his head to look at Xu Fengnian, and motioned to carry his older brother on his back. Xu Fengnian smiled and shook his head. The old Taoist priest Zhao Xituan felt a pang in his heart. In noble families, intrigue and cold-heartedness are common; how many brothers can be so affectionate? Considering further, it was partly because the Xu family had few male heirs, and their second son, Xu Longxiang, was born mentally challenged. The two princesses were naturally destined to be married off, like water poured out—thus, the Northern Liang Prince’s Mansion actually had no room for outsiders to interfere in the matter of succession. After all, the eldest son, Xu Fengnian, was destined to inherit his father’s title as Crown Prince. No matter how idle and seemingly unworthy he appeared, there was no doubt about his succession.

In contrast, the Celestial Master’s Mansion in the Southern lands, the Zhao family, although bound by ancestral decree—“Only a Zhao can be the Celestial Master”—had suffered fifty years ago when Qi Xuanzhen overpowered them. Now, among the disciples of the Jing generation, Bai Lian Master excelled in Daoist cultivation while Qi Xianxia was a martial arts prodigy, both outsiders. In terms of destiny and Daoist knowledge, the Zhao clan could not match them. During these years, internal conflicts and power struggles were no less than in ordinary families. If the Celestial Master’s Mansion had not worried about strong branches overshadowing a weak trunk, why would Zhao Danping end up becoming that ridiculous “Ceremonial Prime Minister”?

As Zhao Xituan sighed in concern, the group walked along a small path paved with bluish stone toward the Xianyao Temple. Previously, the Celestial Elder lived alone in the temple, and there had been no such stone path. After Xu Longxiang came up the mountain, the old man and the child paved the path together during their idle moments. Zhao hesitated slightly, then approached the old man in sheepskin robes and chuckled softly: “Old Li, how have you been?”

The old sword saint snorted coldly. Li Chungan had visited Mount Longhu twice in his life, and both times Zhao Xituan, of similar age, had been there. Both times, Zhao had clung to him stubbornly. The first time, Zhao had even guided him to the Demon-Slaying Platform. Li Chungan didn’t particularly dislike Zhao, for the Celestial Master’s Mansion was filled with rigid, statue-like figures who lacked both spiritual aura and human warmth—Li had long cursed them for being neither men nor ghosts. He remembered how, on his first descent from the mountain, a rare free-spirited young Taoist had finally emerged from the Celestial Mansion, and had insisted on following him into the martial world, trailing him for several months.

Zhao, with a sheepish grin, said, “Old Li, my martial arts are inferior to yours by a hundred thousand miles, but how about my apprentice?”

Li Chungan thought of Jiang Ni and his own bitter experiences in taking disciples, and was instantly provoked. He pointed at Xu Fengnian and falsely claimed, “Look, my newly accepted apprentice—even if Xu Longxiang becomes invincible under heaven, do you think he could defeat my disciple?”

Zhao had initially been upset because, back then, when the female Taoists on the mountain heard of Li Chungan’s arrival, they rushed like mad to the Demon-Slaying Platform, shrieking as if they had seen a celestial being descend. Zhao considered himself, in his youth, to have been as handsome as a jade tree, and though Li might have been a bit superior in martial arts, a bit more handsome, and a bit more famous, how could these women, who were supposed to be free of worldly desires and devoted to the Huangting Sutra, behave so wildly? At that time, Li had arrived with the might of slicing the heavens open and drowning oxen, and Zhao could not help but admire him. Even now, Zhao didn’t claim he could defeat Li in a fight, but when it came to comparing apprentices, Zhao was confident that no one in the world would dare challenge him! But no matter how much he calculated, he hadn’t expected Li to bring out the Crown Prince. The old Taoist immediately deflated—there was no way to compare! Even if Xu Longxiang could one day bring down Wang Xianzhi, could he dare to challenge the Crown Prince?

Seeing Zhao at a loss, Li Chungan felt delighted. He patted Zhao’s shoulder and consoled him, “Xu Longxiang might well be the reincarnation of the True Martial Emperor. Such a rare blessing hasn’t occurred in at least seven or eight hundred years. You’ve struck gold, my boy.”

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, the old sword saint smiled and said, “If you’ve married a pretty young wife, just lie low and enjoy it in your bed. If you dare to show off in front of me again, hmm?”

At the rising tone of that “hmm,” Zhao Xituan, who had once roamed the martial world freely alongside the Sword Saint Li Chungan in the same era, immediately changed his tune and flattered, “Brother Li, saying such words makes us strangers! We’ve been close friends for decades.”

Li Chungan was blunt: “Don’t try to get close to me. I have not a single copper coin’s worth of friendship with you.”

Zhao sighed deeply, looking sorrowful. He dared not press the matter further with Li’s cold shoulder and turned instead to examine the entourage brought by the Crown Prince. Besides Li and a hundred light cavalry, and a few top-tier bodyguards, there were no other forces available. Judging from the signs, there was no intention to stir up trouble on Mount Longhu. That was good news—otherwise, he, as a Taoist caught in the middle, would be stuck between two fires and find himself in a lose-lose situation. As Zhao muttered to himself, he caught sight of three women wearing veiled hats, and then noticed the maid in black robes behind the Crown Prince and the beauty cradling a cat. All of them exuded the aura of celestial maidens. The old Taoist mused on the Crown Prince’s fortune—only the old man Xuan Yuan, who enjoyed the serenity of the mortal world, and the Prince of Guangling, Zhao Yi, who gathered beauties from across the land, could rival him in the southeast.

Xu Fengnian stopped at the entrance of the temple. Zhao Xituan’s face turned awkward—he felt guilty. He had barely managed to trick Xu Longxiang from Northern Liang to Mount Longhu, only to have him practice in this dilapidated temple. It was a bit embarrassing. As he was thinking of how to explain this to the Crown Prince, he was surprised when Xu Fengnian, who had never regarded the Celestial Elder as a master, slowly turned around and bowed deeply to Zhao.

Zhao was flustered, both surprised and delighted, yet anxious and uneasy. He quickly reached out to support him, saying, “This old man cannot bear such respect from the Crown Prince. It is too much, too much.”

The old sword saint watched coldly, yet felt a trace of surprise. Li Chungan, who had seen much of the world, had long understood Xu Fengnian’s temperament—this open, sincere bow was a great courtesy to Zhao Xituan and Mount Longhu. Otherwise, with Xu Fengnian’s stubborn and unyielding nature, no matter who the opponent was—whether it be Prince Jing’an Zhao Heng or the Jiangnan Taoist sect—if they provoked him, it would end in a deadly clash.

Yu Youwei held Wu Mei Niu between her breasts, while the white cat pretended to nap comfortably, half-asleep, occasionally rubbing its fluffy head against her plump bosom. The Princess of Jing’an did not know Zhao Xituan’s identity, but from the scene and conversation, she guessed that the simple-minded youth was Xu Fengnian’s younger brother, destined to become the future Prince of Northern Liang. She could not imagine how two brothers from a royal family could be so harmonious. As for why a noble prince would study with a ragged old Taoist in a dilapidated temple at the foot of Mount Longhu, Pei Nanwei did not bother to speculate.

What shocked Zhao Xituan even more was what followed: after the Crown Prince bowed, Ning Emei and the rest of the White Horse Guard immediately grasped the hilts of their Northern Liang swords with their right hands and crossed their left arms over their chests. They all took a step back in unison to show respect.

Everyone knew that the Northern Liang cavalry were the strongest in the world, proud and haughty due to their prowess in battle. During the Spring and Autumn Wars, when they marched alongside Gu Jiantang or the armies of other feudal lords, they always took the lead, and no one dared to challenge their right of way. Throughout the entire war, only once did the Northern Liang army yield their position—to a scholarly-led force that had won great victories. This tradition was preserved within the Northern Liang army: those with lesser achievements yielded to those with greater. Even officers of high rank would step aside for elite soldiers with remarkable records. For example, scouts who had earned their reputations by collecting barbarian heads could ride without dismounting, bow without kneeling, and take precedence on official roads, even when encountering high-ranking officials such as provincial governors.

Zhao Xituan sighed inwardly. The Crown Prince had changed, which was good for him personally, but perhaps not so good for Mount Longhu, especially the Celestial Master’s Mansion. The old Taoist, with mixed feelings, led the group into the temple. Xu Fengnian, sitting beside the ancient well with Xu Longxiang, smiled and said, “I’ll trouble the Celestial Elder to arrange accommodations for the Fengzi Squadron.”

Zhao nodded, “There’s no need for the Crown Prince to say so. Mount Longhu will naturally take care of it.”

Xu teased, “I’ve heard that this ancestral temple of Taoism used to be filled with camphor trees, exuding a divine aura, with gates as grand as the gates of heaven. But your place here, Celestial Elder, is so deserted it’s reached a whole new level.”

Zhao smiled awkwardly, “I’m just not good with people. I’m afraid the Crown Prince finds it amusing.”

Xu waved his hand, “It doesn’t matter to Huang Man’er. I see he’s quite happy here, no worse off than in the Northern Liang Prince’s Mansion. Isn’t that right, Huang Man’er?”

Xu Longxiang grinned foolishly.

Their conversation, filled with references to the Crown Prince, Northern Liang, and the Celestial Elder, was taken lightly by those involved, but it left the bewildered Mu Rong siblings deeply shaken. Although Mu Rong Tong Huang had long suspected that Xu Fengnian was someone special, no matter how much he speculated, he never imagined that Xu could be ranked alongside Chu Luxian. For the remnants of the Spring and Autumn Wars, especially in cities like Xiangfan, which had been completely destroyed and its people slaughtered, and Jianzhou, where the Western Lebi Wall stood, and in the lands between Longhu and Xuan Yuan, who could forget the humiliation brought by the Northern Liang armor?

Mu Rong Wu Zhu was radiant with joy, like someone caught in a storm who had mistakenly grasped a thin straw, only to discover it was a towering tree. It was like falling in love with a poor scholar, eloping with him, and then suddenly realizing he was actually the heir to a powerful noble family.

Mu Rong Tong Huang couldn’t help trembling, his face flushed, his eyes complex as he stared at the Crown Prince.

If there was one person, aside from the distant ruler of the Wutong Palace, whom the Xuan Yuan family of Jiangdong feared most, it was Northern Liang.

Xu Xiao, the Butcher Who Rides the Rivers and Lakes.

Qing Niao and Yu Youwei went to tidy up the temple, while Pei Nanwei, now under someone else’s roof, had long accepted her fate, often reduced to the role of a servant. Ning Emei and others were taken by the Celestial Elder Zhao Xituan to stay in a nearby grand temple. The old sword saint went for a solitary walk by the Azure Dragon Creek. In the courtyard, only the brothers and the siblings remained, their statuses vastly different. Xu Fengnian patted Huang Man’er’s head and glanced at Mu Rong Tong Huang, who was staring at him. Mu Rong Wu Zhu had been secretly watching the Crown Prince but quickly lowered her gaze to the ground. Xu Fengnian said calmly, “You finally know who I am?”

Mu Rong Tong Huang bit his lip.

Xu smiled, “Were you scared so much you wet yourself?”

Mu Rong Tong Huang was startled.

Xu chuckled to himself, “If Wen Hua were here, he’d say he shit himself out of fear.”

At this vulgar remark, Mu Rong Wu Zhu couldn’t feel disgust—only shyness. Her ears and neck turned red, and she dared not look at the illustrious Crown Prince. Mu Rong Tong Huang still managed to hold his gaze.

Xu thought for a moment, then grinned mischievously, “I do have a small grudge with the Xuan Yuan family, but don’t think you can sit back and watch the flood from the shore. When we go to the Niulang Ridge to annoy the entire Xuan Yuan family, I’ll need you two to cooperate and pretend to be close to me. You two will have to endure a little discomfort.”

Mu Rong Wu Zhu secretly lifted her head, then quickly looked down again.

Mu Rong Tong Huang asked bluntly, “Are you really the Crown Prince of Northern Liang? The eldest son of the Northern Liang King?”

Xu nodded, “Otherwise, would I dare to lead a hundred light cavalry to wipe out twenty Xuan Yuan riders?”

Mu Rong Tong Huang smiled, indeed more charming than a woman, and walked gracefully toward the Crown Prince.

Xu quickly raised his hand, frowning, “Don’t do that. I can’t take it. What am I supposed to do with a man sending me flirtatious glances? Listen, when we go to Huishan, let your sister take that role. I’ll consider it as me taking advantage, and there’s no room for negotiation. But if you insist on clinging to me, I’ll feel like I’m the one being taken advantage of, and we’ll both get goosebumps.”

Mu Rong Wu Zhu covered her mouth, letting out a soft, delicate giggle.

Mu Rong Tong Huang hesitated, then turned around.

Among the Mu Rong siblings, there is male and female, one laughing and one crying.

To outsiders, it might seem like just a simple exchange of tears and laughter, but to the Mu Rong siblings, it was a decade of hardship and sorrow since they had grown up.

Xu Fengnian said calmly, “Don’t rush to thank me. The reason I’m helping you is simply because I feel pity for you. Of course, if the older sister feels she must repay me, offering yourself in marriage is acceptable.”

Mu Rong Wu Zhu, gathering courage, looked up and gazed at him dreamily.

Xu Fengnian smiled, but soon his smile faded. Mu Rong Tong Huang, with tears streaming down his cheeks, turned his head and asked, “Am I not good enough?”

Xu Fengnian was furious enough to kill. He made a chopping gesture and roared, “Mu Rong Tong Huang, if you dare to disgust me again, I’ll chop that part off! Then I’ll send you straight to the Wutong Palace in the capital—guaranteed legitimacy!”

Xu Fengnian suddenly felt a chill as he recalled that ominous prophecy.

A nation’s downfall?

Could it be that this person would truly accomplish what eight nations and a million soldiers failed to do?