On his way back to the mansion, Xu Fengnian was in a rather good mood. The extra two portions of spiced beef were for the maids in the Wutong Courtyard. As expected, Jiang Ni was still waiting in the courtyard. This little money-grubber was now relentless, rain or shine, insisting on reading 100,000 words of secret manuals and ancient texts every day without fail. She wouldn’t stop until she earned at least a hundred taels of silver. Every time she misread or skipped a word, she would be fined ten coins and have to read an extra ten characters. Today, Xu Fengnian had sneaked out to meet Blind Old Xu, leaving Jiang Ni waiting in the Wutong Courtyard. He was sure to receive a few disdainful glances when they met.
As Xu Fengnian entered the courtyard, Sweet Potato, who had been waiting for a while, handed him a letter from Dragon Tiger Mountain—written personally by the old Taoist Zhao Xituan. He instructed Qingniao to distribute the beef and took the letter alone into the study. Jiang Ni was crouched in a corner, clutching a copy of *The Hidden Dragon Fist Manual*, muttering under her breath. She only noticed Xu Fengnian when he sat down, quickly standing up with an annoyed and indignant expression.
Xu Fengnian opened the letter and settled into an ornately carved sandalwood chair adorned with auspicious clouds. He chuckled, “Since you’ve already waited half the day, wait a little longer. Let me finish reading this letter first.”
Jiang Ni, utterly oblivious to her subordinate position, said calmly, “Two coins per word today.”
Xu Fengnian ignored her, engrossed in the letter. Jiang Ni watched as the Young Master’s expression shifted from sunny to overcast, then to stormy, and finally to pitch-black fury. For a moment, she even forgot to repeat her demand for two coins per word. Xu Fengnian raised his hand as if to slam it down on the armrest but restrained himself at the last moment, barely avoiding shattering the corner of the chair. Even so, his expression remained terrifyingly dark.
He stood up, walked to the window, took a few deep breaths, and turned back with a composed demeanor. Smiling at Jiang Ni, he said, “Come, read to me while I listen.”
Jiang Ni read through *The Hidden Dragon* and most of a sword manual before the night grew heavy outside the window. She noticed, to her surprise, that Xu Fengnian hadn’t deducted a single coin from her earnings today—a first.
After absentmindedly listening for two hours, Xu Fengnian grinned, “You’ve saved up quite a bit of silver with me. How about we make another deal? A thousand strings of cash for a secret manual. In a year, you could buy ten. Even if you can’t master martial arts yourself, you could toss a few manuals to wandering warriors—wouldn’t they be willing to hound me like mad dogs? Isn’t that better than hoarding wealth with nowhere to spend it? What do you say? Don’t look so reluctant and incredulous. I’m just voicing what’s already in your heart. Given our relationship, no need for pretenses. So, settled? Twelve hundred strings per manual?”
Jiang Ni wished she could stab this cunning bastard with *The Hidden Dragon* as if it were a sword. She sneered, “Is it a thousand or twelve hundred?”
Caught in his own little scheme, Xu Fengnian laughed heartily, “Friendship discount—eight hundred strings per manual.”
Jiang Ni agreed instantly, “Deal!”
Xu Fengnian waved his hand dismissively and picked up the carefully worded, cryptic letter from Dragon Tiger Mountain again, frowning deeply. Without looking up, he said to Jiang Ni, who was putting the two manuals back on the shelf, “Should I prepare a chaise lounge for you?”
Jiang Ni scoffed disdainfully, “I’d like to live a little longer.”
Xu Fengnian didn’t comment on that. Once Jiang Ni left, Sweet Potato entered with a crystal-clear glass bowl filled with fruit. Glass was a rare treasure—ordinary wealthy families could only afford inferior imitations, yet here it was used merely as a fruit dish. Only officials of the fourth rank or higher were permitted to wear small glass ornaments, and even then, the colors were often murky. The Young Master was truly squandering precious things.
Xu Fengnian picked up a snow pear, took a bite, and growled, “That ox-riding Taoist just sent a handwritten copy of *The Twofold Unity Scripture*. Old Wei from the Listening Tide Pavilion barely glanced at it and wept for joy, saying it aligned with the Heavenly Dao even better than the ancient *Canon of the Unity of the Three*—hailed as the king of all alchemical texts. Look, the Grandmaster not only sacrificed his Great Yellow Court cultivation but, even after I left the mountain, Wudang still sends gifts! And then there’s Dragon Tiger Mountain—barely a year later, and someone from the Celestial Master’s residence is already bullying Huang Man’er! Those yellow-and-purple-robed Taoists are truly courting death!”
Sweet Potato said softly, “Dragon Tiger Mountain has been dominant for two centuries, while Wudang has been in decline for three hundred years. Besides, Wudang is right here in Northern Liang, while Dragon Tiger Mountain is thousands of miles away. Naturally, their attitudes differ.”
Xu Fengnian replied calmly, “I was already planning to visit Dragon Tiger Mountain. Now, I’ll make sure to witness the grandeur of the Celestial Master’s residence firsthand.”
Sweet Potato gently massaged Xu Fengnian’s shoulders. Since the Young Master began training with the blade, his once-frail body had grown robust, his physique and aura advancing by leaps and bounds. If Sweet Potato’s kneading had once been like embroidery, now even hammering a bell wouldn’t feel like more than a tickle to Xu Fengnian. She murmured, “Young Master, are you really leaving Northern Liang again?”
Xu Fengnian nodded, half-joking, “But this time, I won’t be slinking away like a stray dog. I’ll travel with all the pomp befitting the Young Master. Dragon Tiger Mountain, the Shangyin Academy, the Xiema Villa of the Xuanyuan family, the Yue Royal Sword Pool, the Luoshui Riverside’s Luoshen Garden—all those places I never dared to visit before—I’ll make the rounds. Sweet Potato, want to come along?”
Sweet Potato shook her head pitifully, “Can I not go, Young Master?”
Xu Fengnian chuckled and let it go. He had Sweet Potato put the letter away, grabbed two jugs of wine, and left the courtyard alone for the Listening Tide Pavilion. Every time he saw the four-character plaque—”Majestic and Peerless”—he felt a twinge of discomfort. If it were just this crudely inscribed “Nine Dragons” plaque hanging alone, it wouldn’t be so bad, but flanking it were two side plaques with masterfully calligraphed characters. Everything in the world suffered by comparison—this only made the Nine Dragons plaque look even more amateurish. The late emperor, who had passed away unexpectedly when Xu Fengnian was fourteen, had been a man of great talent and bold vision, but his handwriting was truly atrocious.
Xu Fengnian thought of his second sister, Xu Wei Xiong, whose handwriting was equally worm-like. He couldn’t help but sigh—if she had been born male, the 300,000 iron cavalry of Northern Liang would have remained firmly in the Xu family’s grasp, whether Xu Fengnian was truly foolish or merely pretending.
Pushing open the door to the Listening Tide Pavilion’s main hall, Xu Fengnian sighed, “Second Sister, surely your anger has subsided by now? If not, I’ll go to the Shangyin Academy and let you scold me.”
This time, besides drinking with White Fox Face, he also intended to peruse the genealogy of Dragon Tiger Mountain’s Celestial Master lineage. Among the current generation’s four great Celestial Masters, Zhao Xituan—Huang Man’er’s nominal master—ranked second in seniority but held the least real power. Officially, Zhao Danxia, the State Preceptor, governed the Taoist sects, but rumors said his younger brother Zhao Danping was no pushover. This Celestial Master spent most of the year preaching in the capital, his miraculous deeds known even to children, his reputation rivaling Zhao Danxia’s. The remaining elder, Zhao Xiyi, seemed to have no news leaking out at all.
Every family had its troubles, let alone the Celestial Master’s residence with its countless Taoist scriptures.
Today, Xu Fengnian intended to thoroughly investigate this “only our lineage may inherit the Celestial Master title” family. The outside world knew the Listening Tide Pavilion as a martial repository, but few realized its true achievement lay in its collection of secrets and intelligence.
Reaching the second floor, Xu Fengnian turned a corner and spotted a new face—a one-armed old man, short in stature, with a pair of goat-like whiskers, draped in a tattered sheepskin coat. The old man was straining on tiptoe to pull out a martial arts manual, licking his finger before flipping through it rapidly.
Sensing no aura from the man, Xu Fengnian decided to play a joke. Tiptoeing over, he whispered, “Old brother, here to steal books too?”
The old man ignored him, scanning the pages swiftly, the rustling of paper the only sound in the silent pavilion.
Xu Fengnian peeked over, trying to see the contents, but the old man pulled the manual away protectively.
Feigning secrecy, Xu Fengnian stuffed a few books into his robe and whispered, “Old brother, don’t just look—take as many as you can.”
The old man tightened his sheepskin coat, deaf to the Young Master’s words.
Xu Fengnian whispered again, “Haven’t you seen White Fox Face? That knife-wielding man prettier than any beauty? His temper’s terrible—we’d better be careful, or we’ll regret it.”
The old man finally looked up, his cross-eyed gaze slanting toward Xu Fengnian.
Seizing the moment, Xu Fengnian slung an arm around the old man’s shoulders, feigning camaraderie. “Old brother, the manuals upstairs are even rarer and more advanced. I’ve bribed the Young Master’s maids—I know my way around. Want me to take you?”
The old man’s crossed eyes grew even more pronounced, but he didn’t shake off Xu Fengnian’s impudent gesture, as if utterly disdainful of this “fellow thief’s” goodwill.
Just as Xu Fengnian was about to speak again, he suddenly felt suffocated. Turning, he saw not only White Fox Face but also Xu Xiao and his master, Li Yishan. Behind Xu Xiao stood six tense pavilion guardians. What was this?
White Fox Face walked over slowly, giving Xu Fengnian a look that screamed *idiot*.
Grand Pillar of the Nation Xu Xiao didn’t approach but bowed slightly, saying softly, “When Fengnian leaves Northern Liang this time, I’ll trouble you to look after him.”
Since when did the only non-imperial prince of the dynasty bow so respectfully to anyone? Even the currently all-powerful Chief Grand Secretary Zhang Julu didn’t deserve such treatment, did he?
Xu Fengnian’s arm was still draped over the old man’s shoulder, his body frozen stiff.
White Fox Face watched the scene with amusement, his peach-blossom eyes brimming with schadenfreude.
Xu Fengnian shot him a glare and slowly withdrew his arm, returning the books in his robe to their shelves.
He looked at Li Yishan, who had unusually descended from the upper floors. The latter shook his head with a faint smile, signaling that no explanation would be given.
As Xu Xiao and Li Yishan left, Xu Fengnian sensed the six guardians of the pavilion—each stationed there for different reasons—finally relax their tense postures.
White Fox Face mimicked Xu Fengnian’s earlier gesture, slinging an arm around his shoulder with a smirk. “His temper’s terrible—we’d better be careful, or we’ll regret it?”
Xu Fengnian tried to reciprocate, but White Fox Face dodged. Flustered, Xu Fengnian explained, “Misheard—I meant his temper’s *excellent*, excellent.”
White Fox Face left with a flourish, climbing a ladder to continue browsing the second-floor collection.
In the end, only the Young Master and the cross-eyed old man remained—one utterly confused, the other playing the enigmatic sage.
After some thought, Xu Fengnian believed he’d finally grasped the situation. He cautiously stepped back and whispered, “Old brother, are you some expert Xu Xiao hired to deal with the old monster sealed in the Listening Tide Pavilion?”
The old man narrowed his eyes to slits, remaining silent.
Xu Fengnian feigned grave concern. “Old brother, this is dangerous work! What did Xu Xiao promise you? If it’s not enough, don’t agree! The fiend sealed in this pavilion is terrifying—three heads, six arms, breathes clouds, moves mountains, and drains seas!”
The old man, who had been about to reshelf the manual, paused. Then, with a strange motion, he let go—yet the book hovered midair without falling!
The cross-eyed old man turned to leave, clearly annoyed by Xu Fengnian’s chatter.
Xu Fengnian paled, muttering to himself, “Please don’t tell me you’re that underworld demon.”
The old man’s hoarse voice echoed through the pavilion, “How did the Butcher Xu Xiao sire a son like you? Interesting.”
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