Chapter 43: The Human Slaughterer

There had never been a time when the Young Master was the one being teased—it was always him doing the teasing! And to make matters worse, the white-fox-faced man beside him was, in fact, a man!

Xu Fengnian could only feel a surge of despair. Even with the Spring Thunder Saber in hand, he was no match for White Fox Face. The urge to retreat into seclusion and train for centuries gripped him—surely, he’d emerge invincible? The Young Master, reduced to such self-delusion, was truly pitiable.

White Fox Face, meanwhile, sipped his wine leisurely, his phoenix eyes slanting with amusement as he watched Xu Fengnian’s frustration. Two jugs of wine warmed his belly, but his words warmed his heart—no wonder Xu the Beggar had been so sharp-tongued even in his direst straits. Sometimes, words cut deeper than blades, sharper even than the Winter Embroider and Spring Thunder.

Finishing his drink, White Fox Face set the empty jugs at his feet and gazed at the mirror-like lake. “I heard the *Magnificent Song of Northern Liang’s Guardian Spirits* that night,” he remarked. “The lyrics were excellent, but the composition fell short—a waste of a thousand and eight characters.”

Xu Fengnian pointed at himself with a dry laugh. “Apologies. That was my handiwork.”

White Fox Face delivered a backhanded compliment. “I said it was lacking only because the lyrics were peerless. Taken alone, your music surpassed my expectations. Perhaps I can no longer call you a good-for-nothing.”

Xu Fengnian sprawled onto his back, indifferent. “Go ahead. It’s rare to find someone whose insults don’t anger me—might as well enjoy it.”

“And if someone else insulted you?”

Xu Fengnian answered as if it were obvious. “Insult them back, then beat them half to death.”

White Fox Face chuckled. “No wonder Northern Liang calls you arrogant and domineering.”

Xu Fengnian feigned profundity. “Surely you’ve noticed—it’s all an act. In truth, I’m biding my time. One day, I’ll astonish the world with my brilliance!”

White Fox Face yawned. “You’re not acting. You’re just lazy and shameless by nature.”

Xu Fengnian burst into laughter. “White Fox Face, you *get* me. What was it you said earlier? Ah, right—if only you were a woman, I’d marry you!”

Ignoring the remark, White Fox Face asked softly, “A slacker like you, learning the saber—was it really for Old Huang?”

Xu Fengnian shook his head. “Not entirely. I know I’ll never defeat that old monster Wang Xianzhi in this lifetime, so reclaiming Old Huang’s sword box is impossible. But I thought—if I can’t beat him, I can outlive him. If the world’s second-strongest lives another sixty or seventy years, fine, I’ll concede. If not, I’ll tear down Emperor Wu’s City myself!”

“So you won’t go to the Eastern Sea until Wang Xianzhi dies?”

Xu Fengnian’s expression turned serious. “I’ll go. After the New Year, I’ll leave Northern Liang. Debts to repay, people to curse, others to kill. And yes, I’ll visit Emperor Wu’s City.”

“Why go if you can’t win or reclaim the sword box?”

Xu Fengnian’s voice was calm. “Just to see it. If I don’t, years will pass, and I might forget Old Huang and the sword box.”

White Fox Face lay down beside him, stretching his legs. “Like me, afraid I’ll forget if I lose my resolve. Giving you Winter Embroider was right. Now, Spring Thunder won’t be a mistake either.”

Xu Fengnian grinned. “What a shame you’re a man.”

White Fox Face smirked. “What a shame you’re not a woman.”

Xu Fengnian closed his eyes.

White Fox Face murmured, “When you leave Northern Liang, I won’t accompany you. I won’t leave the library until I reach the fifth floor. So, can you change your condition?”

Before Xu Fengnian could answer, he added, “But if you refuse, I’ll still keep my promise and travel with you.”

Eyes still shut, Xu Fengnian smiled. “Winter Embroider for Spring Thunder is enough. Old Huang said contentment fills the belly and the heart. That’s wisdom—no wonder he mastered those nine swords. *That’s* a true master. To hell with Wang Xianzhi, Deng Tai’a, and Cao Guānzi!”

White Fox Face closed his eyes and drifted into sleep.

At dawn, he awoke with a start, his face pale, Winter Embroider trembling violently at his side. Only when he noticed the familiar sable cloak draped over him did he calm, laughing at himself.

When Xu Fengnian found Jiang Ni, she was washing clothes, her movements careful with the threadbare garments. Spotting him, the once-princess-now-maid ignored him coldly. Xu Fengnian had heard how his second sister, back at the manor, had punished the foolish girl who’d written the *Oath of the Great Geng Horn*. He felt no pity—only schadenfreude. *Serves you right for neglecting the garden.*

Jiang Ni, catching his smirk, scowled and scrubbed too hard, then winced and gentled her motions, too preoccupied to spar with him.

This Young Master, who could casually compose a song heard across the city, and she, a maid afraid to wash clothes too roughly—what was the point of quarreling?

Xu Fengnian studied her red, chapped cheeks—her dimples faded when she wasn’t smiling—and her lifeless eyes. Had his sister crushed her spirit? Ended her murderous intent? Unlikely. Had his sister gone too far?

He grinned. “Starting today, read to me in the Wutong Pavilion. One word, one coin. How’s that?”

Jiang Ni refused instantly. “No!”

Xu Fengnian shrugged. “Even if it’s the library’s secret manuals? You won’t earn this money?”

Her brow furrowed as she washed slower.

Xu Fengnian turned to leave.

Jiang Ni snorted and kept scrubbing.

She wouldn’t take the bait.

From afar, Xu Fengnian’s voice carried back. “A thousand words for a string of coins. Ten thousand words a day—a hundred strings. Even with breaks, thirty-six thousand strings a year. Imagine carrying *that* wealth. What a shame.”

Jiang Ni pursed her lips.

Xu Fengnian’s voice grew fainter but no less clear. “Read enough, and inspiration flows. Or was it ‘read three hundred poems, and you’ll hum them’? Ah well. I’ll have my maids read to me instead—sweeter on the ears.”

Jiang Ni spat in his direction.

Xu Fengnian had always treated her this way—teasing, provoking, riling her up like a bristling kitten, but never harming her. Perhaps there was kindness beneath it, but Jiang Ni saw only mockery.

Once he was gone, she stared blankly. Born into luxury, she’d known nothing of money as a child. Now, with a pittance of a wage, ten thousand taels was unimaginable. Yet what tempted her wasn’t the coins—it was the forbidden library. She knew Xu Fengnian had trained relentlessly on Wudang. What could her hidden dagger, Divine Sigil, do now?

Years ago, it had failed to kill him. Would a hundred, a thousand daggers succeed?

But if she agreed to read for him—what traps lay in wait?

Her eyes empty, she knelt before a snowman.

Despair weighed heavier than death.

From the shadows, Xu Fengnian watched the girl and the snowman.

The Pillar of the Nation, Xu Xiao, materialized behind him. “After all these years, still not tired of looking?”

Xu Fengnian rolled his eyes.

Noticing Spring Thunder, Xu Xiao asked, “How’d you swindle it?”

Xu Fengnian scoffed. “Don’t play dumb. Is there anything you don’t know?”

Xu Xiao smiled. “Since you and White Fox Face found the hidden path, care to visit the memorial hall with me?”

Xu Fengnian nodded.

In silence, they entered the Listening Tide Pavilion. Xu Fengnian tossed Spring Thunder to open the door.

Seeing Xu Xiao empty-handed, Xu Fengnian whispered, “No offerings?”

Xu Xiao didn’t turn. “No need. I’m the only one left alive. Who’d drink them?”

In the hall Xu Fengnian saw as the underworld, Xu Xiao sat on a cushion and gestured for him to join.

Pointing to a tablet, Xu Xiao said, “Chen Qiong, Chen Zhibao’s father. At Jinliao, he died so I could live. Otherwise, *he’d* be sitting here.”

“At Yique, Wang Jian, the so-called ‘Matchless Warrior,’ held the gate open with his bare hands so I could escape. His body was minced to paste.”

“At Western Chu, when the world thought I’d join the emperor to split the realm, Ma Ling and thirteen others died to prove my loyalty.”

“Fan Li of Dongyue, who loved to sing off-key when drunk—gone.”

“Zhao Changling, my strategist, died ten *li* from the Shu palace—ten *li* from avenging his family.”

“Han Li—I beheaded him myself to enforce discipline.”

One by one, Xu Xiao named the dead, his voice hoarse, each word a thunderclap.

Xu Fengnian trembled.

Xu Xiao rose, straightening his back. Glaring at the tiers of tablets, he sneered. “Fengnian, once you leave, I’m going to the capital. Let’s see who dares take my life! Let’s see if they can lift the head of Xu Xiao, the Butcher of Men!”