Xu Fengnian, who had just been kicked, was puzzled as he said, “Practice?!”
The old sword immortal sneered, “What else could it be? You really think you can train with the Princess of Jing’an with swords drawn? Would you really give up your Huangting martial cultivation?!”
Even with Xu Fengnian’s thick skin, he still felt somewhat embarrassed and chose not to dwell on the topic. He approached the campfire and sat beside Yu Youwei. Ning Emei came over, carrying some golden, oily roasted meat in one hand, which he handed respectively to the young master and the old sword immortal. Starving, Xu Fengnian tore into the game and joked, “General Ning, sit with us and share a bit of the sword immortal’s divine aura.”
Ning Emei, who had taken off his armor but still carried his short halberd and satchel, sat down with a shy smile. Despite his fierce appearance, his voice and personality were completely opposite. Xu Fengnian watched as the general ate with refined manners and suddenly burst into inexplicable laughter. Everyone around the campfire exchanged puzzled glances. Xu Fengnian quietly asked Ning Emei, “In the chaos of battle, many fierce generals like to shout bold phrases like ‘Hand over your life, you scoundrel!’ or ‘I’ll take your dog’s head!’ General Ning, with your soft-spoken tone, how do you handle that? I’ve been curious about this lately.”
Ning Emei’s rugged face was illuminated by the firelight, making it hard to tell if he was blushing. He scratched his head and smiled, “When I first became a junior officer, I wanted to emulate the bold predecessors described in military treatises by shouting challenges on the battlefield. Later, during a campaign alongside the general as the vanguard, I shouted something foolish and was immediately stopped and scolded by the general. He said, ‘Fight with your halberd and keep quiet. Besides, your voice sounds like a woman’s burp, lacking the momentum of even a loud fart from a real man!’ The general reprimanded me, saying not to disgrace the Beiliang army. Since then, I’ve never shouted on the battlefield again; I simply kill.”
“I knew you’d be scolded by Xu Xiao,” Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, his ragged appearance not much better than his beggar’s disguise from his three-year journey. As he laughed, he waved the roasted meat in his hand, catching the attention of the Princess of Jing’an nearby, who looked slightly dazed. As for the Prince of Jing’an, Zhao Heng, he was always aloof and immaculate, while his son Zhao Xun was known for his refined tastes, with every detail of his life, from room decorations to the jade at his waist, being exquisite and never vulgar. Xu Fengnian glanced at Princess Pei and then laughed at Li Chungan, who was devouring the meat, “Senior, how is General Ning’s halberd technique? Can it be considered masterful?”
Ning Emei immediately became uneasy upon hearing this. As expected, the sharp-tongued old man in the sheepskin coat spat out a bone and laughed, “Masterful? Then what about Wang Mingyin, who wrested the halberd barehanded? He’s only ranked eleventh in the world. You kid, if you want me to teach this fellow halberd techniques, just say so directly; don’t beat around the bush.”
Xu Fengnian smiled, “Please, senior, don’t hold back your guidance.”
The old sword immortal impatiently replied, “Maybe another time when I feel like it.”
Xu Fengnian noticed that Ning Emei, the halberd-wielding man, was simply overwhelmed with shock and surprise. He quietly extended his leg and kicked him. Ning Emei shuddered and bowed, saying, “Ning Emei thanks the old sword immortal.”
Old Li glared and said, “Old sword immortal? Have you acknowledged Deng Tai’a as the new sword immortal? Until I fight that younger generation, I remain the sword immortal of this hundred years.”
Ning Emei was filled with anxiety, unable to grasp Li Chungan’s temperament and character, and could only seek help from the young master. Xu Fengnian waved his hand, signaling Ning Emei to leave first. Just as he was about to smooth things over, he accidentally noticed the little mud doll holding a book and wiping her tears, her delicate shoulders trembling. Leaning over, he vaguely recognized the title of the book, and was amused to find it was Wang Chudong’s “First Snowfall,” though he didn’t know which volume she was reading. Xu Fengnian sat beside her and gently snatched the book, flipping through it. He saw that Jiang Ni was already reading the ending, probably moved by the line, “May all lovers eventually find their way to each other.” Before the little mud doll could get angry, he wisely returned the book to her, teasing, “You can actually read tears out of these fictional stories? Countless lovesick men and women have shed tens of thousands of pounds of tears over this book; your little bit doesn’t even count.”
Jiang Ni tightly clutched the book “First Snowfall,” her tear-filled eyes brimming with sobs as she retorted, “You think everyone is as heartless as you!”
Li Chungan joined in, saying, “I’ve glanced at it when I had the chance. The love stories in the book are alright, but the poems by Wang Dongxiang are truly excellent. They chase the footsteps of ancient masters and deeply understand the grandeur of proper poetry. However, a few pieces fall short, apparently influenced by some bad habits, with large chunks of text directly lifted from the works of Laozi, Zhuangzi, and the I Ching. Especially some obscure terms taken from Buddhist scriptures; in my opinion, it’s a case of falling into a disease of Zen. But after the Spring and Autumn Warring States, hundreds of thousands of scholars fled into Buddhism, so it’s not necessarily that Wang Dongxiang lacks talent—it’s just Go with the tide.”
Suddenly, Xu Fengnian and the old man exchanged a very Tacit understanding glance, which left everyone else puzzled once again. The two of them smiled strangely at the same time, though Li Chungan’s smile carried a touch of melancholy. They both sighed simultaneously, even making Jiang Ni forget her emotions for a moment and wonder what was wrong with the two of them. She naturally didn’t know that the old sword immortal’s nickname “Li Qing Dan” came from a poem gifted by a noble lady. That woman, like Wang Dongxiang, was a unique poetic genius in the literary circles of her time. Yet her most brilliant works were all written for her beloved Li Chungan. Unfortunately, Li Chungan was solely devoted to the vast path of swordsmanship, utterly indifferent to love in his youth, causing many women to feel heartbroken and unable to find peace until their dying days.
In this matter, how similar were Xu Fengnian and Li Chungan?
The old sword immortal murmured with sadness, “This little girl Wang Dongxiang truly has divine talent. Her book ‘First Snowfall’ has already exhausted all aspects of the world. Even someone like me, who once prided himself as the most carefree person in the world, was struck by this book and realized that my so-called leisure and detachment were all fake. What good are lofty discussions about elegance and grand rhetoric about lofty ideals? In the end, I still can’t escape that line: ‘Love weakens heroes.’ Thinking back on Qi Xuanzhen’s parting words, saying that as long as one is on the mountain, one will be confined by a talisman from the Daoist Patriarch, no matter what, one can’t escape it.”
Li Chungan raised his hand and caught a wineskin thrown by the young master, took a big swig, and all his pent-up frustration vanished. He laughed and asked, “How can others know the author’s thoughts while writing? Next time you see that little girl who’s been titled Wang Dongxiang, ask her a question for me. She’s so young, never leaving her home, yet how could she use the mouth of a rascal in her book to express the worldly wisdom that all difficulties can be resolved in a woman’s lap?”
Xu Fengnian nodded. He hadn’t read much of “First Snowfall,” but it seemed everyone around him was deeply immersed in it. His eldest sister and Jiang Ni had both shed countless tears of sympathy. Even his old friend Li Hanlin, notorious throughout Beiliang, had shown unusual signs of sentimentality. Add to that Princess Jing’an, whom he met for the first time while reading “First Snowfall,” and it was clear that Wang Dongxiang’s fans were countless. No wonder it was said that a thousand readers would find a thousand kinds of snow in “First Snowfall.” It seemed he should make time to appreciate it thoroughly. Xu Fengnian chewed on the meat while Yu Youwei softly reminded him that there was still a clean set of clothes in the carriage. Xu Fengnian hummed in response and looked up to say, “In the coming days, you and Master Wei will work together to draw the talisman patterns on the four sets of armor. I might not have much free time.”
Yu Youwei rested her pointed chin on the lazy body of Wu Meiniang, who was as white as snow, and softly replied, “Alright.”
Xu Fengnian said with some guilt, “Were you frightened by the fighting earlier today?”
Yu Youwei smiled and shook her head. Xu Fengnian immediately showed his true colors, grinning, “Wasn’t my sword stance quite impressive?”
Yu Youwei gave him a seductive glare. Jiang Ni, who was sitting next to Xu Fengnian carefully guarding “First Snowfall,” snorted coldly and was clearly unimpressed.
Xu Fengnian flicked his finger, sending a bug—whether a mosquito or a moth, no one could tell—lightly onto Jiang Ni’s cheek. He did this several times, teasing, “This is for badmouthing me as heartless, and for you being lazy and not practicing swordsmanship.”
Poor little Jiang Ni’s face stung painfully, and she looked furiously angry.
The old sword immortal turned his head away, pretending not to see.
Xu Fengnian stopped when he felt he had had enough fun, leaving the little mud doll unable to retaliate. He then got up and went to the carriage where Qingniao was, with Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng cautiously guarding nearby. Xu Fengnian waved his hand to signal the two to step back, then bent down and entered the carriage. He gently picked Qingniao up in his arms, closed his eyes, and began to slowly cultivate his energy. The highest level of the Huangting martial art could generate 108 green lotus flowers within the body, each pore and acupoint harmonizing with the mysteries of heaven. The common phrase describing a person as upright and towering, “standing between heaven and earth,” was most fitting for Huangting. It must both follow the mandate of heaven and remain grounded to truly embody the Dao.
Li Chungan added a few more logs to the campfire, watching Jiang Ni’s gloomy expression. Tentatively, he asked, “How about some sword practice?”
Jiang Ni hesitated, her beautiful face illuminated by the firelight, making her look absolutely stunning. She was indeed a natural beauty. The Emperor of Xichu was already a dashing and romantic figure, while the Empress was a peerless beauty in the history of the Spring and Autumn Period. The Prince of Guangling had once openly declared that he wanted to take the Empress as his servant. No sooner had the smoke of the battle at Xilei Wall cleared than Guangling had sent envoys to General Xu Xiao, offering to give him six thousand elite Wei soldiers if he would hand over the Empress of Xichu to him as a concubine. Surprisingly, Xu Xiao agreed. However, upon entering the palace, he merely threw a white silk ribbon at the Empress, leaving her to decide her own fate.
The old sword immortal lowered his voice and said, “Little mud doll, the real treasures of my skills are still hidden. Originally, I was saving them for Wang Xianzhi and Deng Tai’a. But if you really want to learn, I will definitely teach you everything I have.”
Jiang Ni calmly replied, “Just teach me the character ‘learning’.”
Li Chungan was once again hurt by this girl’s words and sighed deeply, continuing to drink and eat roast meat. Truth be told, being with the young master was quite comfortable in this regard. He couldn’t exactly say he had someone to hand him clothes, but the sheepskin coat he wore was quite suitable. However, being waited on hand and foot was difficult. In his previous travels through the martial world, people only saw how majestic and powerful his sword techniques were, never realizing that while his sword rivals were easy to handle, his own five internal organs were hard to please. Especially in remote areas, finding game was manageable, but cooking the meat himself was a hassle. What good was being invincible in the world if one didn’t eat, drink, defecate, or even fart? The old sword immortal looked around and glared at the Taoist priest of Jiudoumi, who was staring at him with admiration. What are you looking at? You’re old enough, yet you still act like a lovesick girl. Do I have flowers or silver on my face? Sighing inwardly, Li Chungan thought that, all things considered, Jiang Ni suited him best, while that kid was just barely tolerable.
Princess Pei followed Yu Youwei as she stood up and quietly asked, “Where will the caravan go next?”
Yu Youwei replied indifferently, “Unless something unexpected happens, we’ll head directly to Jiangnan Circuit.”
Before Princess Pei could speak, the old man in the sheepskin coat, who had no shame in his old age, threw a piece of roasted meat bone onto her round, shapely buttocks, which her clothes couldn’t fully conceal. He clicked his tongue and laughed, “Be careful tonight; that kid always sneaks a peek at this spot. Oh, and just now he told me he wants you to pose in all sorts of positions—like the Bodhisattva sitting on a lotus, the old man pushing the cart, the old tree entwining roots, the roasted goose hugging the moon, and so on. I didn’t quite understand it all. I wonder if you, the Princess of Jing’an, get it. I guess after practicing all eighteen martial arts techniques, it’ll probably be dawn. Should I call you two for breakfast tomorrow? Or maybe do a good deed and bring you some midnight snacks later?”
At that moment, Princess Pei wished she were dead.
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