After a fragrant bath that left his entire body refreshed, Xu Fengnian shed the hemp robes and straw sandals of a beggar, donning instead the luxurious silks and fine attire befitting a noble scion. With his stubble shaved off, he revealed himself to be a strikingly handsome young master.
Among the six or seven renowned courtesans of Lingzhou, there were those with discerning tastes and haughty demeanors, yet they vied fiercely for his attention—not merely for the lavish rewards of the Northern Liang Prince’s heir. Though this young master often indulged in the unscrupulous practice of purchasing poetry with gold, he was well-versed in the arts of romance, skilled in chess, knowledgeable in needlework, appreciative of music, and a connoisseur of dance—truly a man who could warm a woman’s heart.
Within the Northern Liang Prince’s residence, not a single young maid with budding curves had escaped his teasing touches. Yet, though they might blush and whisper complaints in private, none truly despised him. At the very least, this young master was not the sort to casually beat servants to death, throw them into wells, or chop them up to feed to dogs.
Take, for instance, the young master Li of Fengzhou, who claimed to have grown up sharing the same trousers with Xu Fengnian. As the son of a governor, he delighted in tossing people into cages to be devoured by beasts. Compared to such cruelty, the servants of the Northern Liang Prince’s residence felt nothing but gratitude toward their young master.
If there was anyone in the residence who dared to glare at Xu Fengnian with undisguised hatred, it was the maidservant Jiang Ni, who deliberately distanced herself from the fawning, smiling maids.
She had entered the Northern Liang Prince’s residence at the age of twelve, just after the Great Pillar of the State had crushed the once-arrogant Western Chu Empire. Unlike the general who had stormed the imperial palace and indulged in the spoils—ravaging the royal consorts and the wives of ministers—Xu Xiao had no interest in women. He had not even stopped the virtuous empress who had hanged herself alongside the Western Chu Emperor. Some even whispered that it was Xu Xiao himself who had handed her the white silk.
In Western Chu, the surname *Jiang* was reserved for royalty, inevitably sparking speculation about the young girl’s origins. But as the empire faded into history, so too did the rumors—dust was merely dust.
Xu Fengnian, of course, knew better than anyone the true identity of this maidservant. Glancing sideways at the now-graceful Jiang Ni, he dismissed the other maids with a wave of his hand. Once they were out of earshot, he smirked and said, “What’s the matter, Princess Taiping? Disappointed I didn’t die in some backwater? Don’t worry—I wouldn’t dream of dying before deflowering you. Tsk tsk, your chest is becoming quite the landscape. Maybe I should call you ‘Princess Uneven’ instead.”
Jiang Ni, once a princess and now a lowly maidservant burdened with the hatred of a fallen kingdom, remained expressionless. Her eyes, however, burned with such fury that she could have bitten him to death.
Hidden in her sleeve was the dagger *Shenfu*, famed in history as being worth twelve cities. Given even the slightest opportunity, this girl who couldn’t bear to kill a chicken would not hesitate to slit Xu Fengnian’s throat. But a glance at the middle-aged man in plain clothes nearby forced her to suppress her murderous impulse.
The man, in his thirties, stood nine feet tall with a heroic and jade-like countenance, exuding an air of effortless grace despite his perpetually drowsy demeanor. He was Yuan Zuozong, one of the Northern Liang Prince’s six adopted sons, known as the “Left Bear.” A peerless warrior on the battlefield, wielding a silver spear astride a white steed, he was ranked among the top three martial artists in the entire dynasty—some even claimed he was just a step away from joining the ranks of the Ten Great Masters. Faced with this god of slaughter who was accustomed to using skulls as wine cups, Jiang Ni dared not act rashly.
Before his travels, Xu Fengnian had shamelessly declared, *I’ll give you only one chance to kill me. Fail the second time, and I’ll kill you.*
Regrettably, that year, when she had first blossomed into womanhood, she had adorned herself with rouge and fine robes to seduce him. After finally luring him to bed, she had plunged a dagger into his shoulder—deep enough to reach bone, but not fatal. He had merely slapped her, dressed, and delivered two sentences: *”Next time, you won’t be so lucky. Don’t waste it.”*
“Your Highness! Your Highness! At last, I see you again! For three years, I’ve been unable to eat or drink in peace!”
A rotund nobleman came barreling forward—more accurately, stumbling and crawling—with genuine tears and snot streaming down his face, looking every bit the scoundrel.
Jiang Ni regarded him with the same disgust she reserved for Xu Fengnian. Meanwhile, Yuan Zuozong, tasked with protecting the heir, turned his head away in disdain, his eyes filled with contempt.
That this bloated pig of a man could bypass the heavily guarded defenses to reach Xu Fengnian spoke volumes of his status. In truth, like the “Left Bear,” he was one of the Great Pillar’s adopted sons—Chu Lushan, the “Hunting Hound” of the Three Dogs.
Xu Fengnian’s prized white gyrfalcon, the “most divine of all winged creatures,” which had accompanied him through three years of hardship, had been trained by this very man—with more care than one would lavish on a bride or a son.
Chu Lushan’s reputation in the Northern Liang army was abysmal. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, he was lecherous to the core. It was he who had first introduced Xu Fengnian to brothels, spouting nonsense like *”Brothers are like limbs, women like clothes.”* In years past, he had regularly urged Xu Fengnian to bed his own concubines—a twisted form of loyalty that was as baffling as it was absolute.
“Unable to eat or drink in peace? Fatty Chu, you look like you’ve gained a few dozen pounds,” Xu Fengnian sneered, grabbing the man by the neck.
Chu Lushan, his face reddening from the chokehold, protested pitifully, “Your Highness, I’ve lost weight! A whole layer! If you don’t believe me, I’ll weigh myself right now—if I’m even a pound heavier, I’ll cut off a pound of flesh! Ten pounds, ten pounds of flesh!”
Xu Fengnian released him and patted his quivering jowls. “Good brother indeed.”
Despite now holding the prestigious rank of *Qianniu Longwu* General—a third-tier position commanding three thousand elite troops—Chu Lushan bore the humiliation of having his cheeks slapped without complaint. Instead, he wore an expression of utmost honor.
Leaning in with his massive, pig-like head, he whispered conspiratorially, “Your Highness, I’ve just taken in a new concubine—tender as fresh dew, skin so delicate it might bruise at a touch. I haven’t dared to enjoy her yet; she’s reserved for you. Would you grace us with your presence? We could share some wine, enjoy a tune, and then…?”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “Sounds perfect.”
The two exchanged a grin so devious it could only be described as *a wolf and a jackal plotting together.*
Just as Chu Lushan was warmly inquiring about the heir’s three-year absence, the Northern Liang Prince himself approached. While the empire had several *Shangzhuguo* (Pillars of the State), there was only one *Dazhuguo* (Great Pillar)—second only to the *Tiance Shangjiang* (Heavenly Strategy General), a title reserved for times of national crisis.
Xu Xiao, a veteran of countless battles, had once led from the front lines—so much so that the late emperor had issued an edict forbidding him from personal combat. An arrow to the left leg during the Western Chu campaign had left him with a slight limp.
Xu Xiao cared little when scholars mocked him as *Xu the Barbarian*, but anyone who dared call him *Xu the Cripple* would face his unrelenting wrath. A favored general of the Marquis of Wu’an, who had campaigned alongside him against Western Chu, had paid the price for such insolence—executed on a flimsy pretext, his head displayed alongside those of Western Chu’s finest generals on the imperial city walls.
The Marquis of Wu’an had seethed but dared not protest, not even lodging a complaint with the emperor.
Now, with temples graying, Xu Xiao stood neither tall nor imposing, his slight hunch suggesting the weight of three hundred thousand restless souls upon his shoulders.
Chu Lushan, ever perceptive, immediately dropped to his knees in reverence. Yuan Zuozong, though also an adopted son, retained more dignity, merely bowing in formal greeting.
The Northern Liang Prince waved dismissively, allowing Chu Lushan to fetch his own stool while he attempted to sit beside his son on the wooden couch—only to be kicked in the rear by an irate Xu Fengnian. Forced to settle for a humble bench, Xu Xiao wore an awkward smile.
Chu Lushan broke into a cold sweat, sitting as if on needles, not daring to wipe his brow. Yuan Zuozong smirked knowingly.
Xu Fengnian whistled, wrapping a piece of Shu brocade around his arm to summon the gyrfalcon Chu Lushan had painstakingly trained. Holding a crystal goblet filled with fine grape wine, he sighed dramatically, “Ah, Little White, these three years have been hard on you—no wine, no meat, nearly killed and stewed. I’ve failed you.”
The Great Pillar of the State hung his head in shame, sighing repeatedly.
Jiang Ni, whose beauty grew more breathtaking with each passing year, let out a soft, icy laugh. *Truly, this gyrfalcon shares my misfortune in masters.*
Such rare birds existed only in the frozen lands north of Jinzhou. A hunter who captured one could be pardoned for any crime short of treason. Even the nobles of Western Chu had once offered fortunes for these creatures, nicknamed *”Azure Phoenixes,”* yet they remained elusive.
The one perched on Xu Fengnian’s arm was no ordinary specimen—it was a *”Six-Year Phoenix,”* the rarest of the rare, surpassing even the *”Three-Year Dragon.”* A wealthy clan patriarch from Yongzhou had once offered a thousand taels of gold and three beautiful women for *”Little White,”* only to be bluntly told to *”get lost”* by the arrogant Xu Fengnian.
“Xu Xiao,” Xu Fengnian said suddenly, “if your son is bullied, what should a father do?”
The Great Pillar grinned as if the answer were obvious. “Naturally, annihilate their family. If that’s not enough, enslave their wives and concubines, seize their wealth, and squander it all in an instant.”
Jiang Ni, still lingering by the *Tingchao Pavilion*, clenched her fists, her eyes dark with hatred.
Xu Fengnian pulled out a small sheet of paper covered in names—families, clans, and martial sects—and patted his father’s shoulder. “Dad, you always say *’A gentleman avenges over ten years; a petty man strikes before nightfall.’* These are my enemies. Deal with them. Now.”
Xu Xiao took the paper, praising his son’s calligraphy before even reading it. At first glance, he was ready to agree without hesitation—until he saw the sheer number of names. With a pained expression, he said, “Son, this is… quite the list. Over a hundred? The governor of Huizhou just because his son looks effeminate? The Wang clan of Guanzhong because their servants drunkenly cursed Northern Liang barbarians? And the Xuanyuan martial family—what did they do to earn exile to Jinzhou, with Xuanyuan Qingfeng forced into prostitution?”
Xu Fengnian sighed, watching his beloved gyrfalcon sip wine. “Ah, Little White, at least you have a master who cares. Me? No father’s love, no mother’s care. Life is suffering. Pointless.”
The Great Pillar hurriedly reassured him, “I’ll handle it, no questions asked.”
With that, the ever-efficient Xu Xiao turned to Yuan Zuozong and Chu Lushan, his expression darkening. “Zuozong, prepare two *Tiger Guard* cavalry units. I’ll seek an imperial decree—time to *’trample the rivers and lakes’* once more. Lushan, coordinate with our allies in the provinces. Execute the traitors on the list, but do it quietly. You have a year and a half. This is your specialty.”
Yuan Zuozong bowed. “Understood.”
Chu Lushan rose, his eyes gleaming with savage excitement. “Lushan obeys.”
Jiang Ni’s heart ached. *How many innocents will suffer for this farce? How many families will be torn apart, never knowing why disaster struck?*
But then, Xu Fengnian retrieved the paper and handed over another—this one with only a tenth of the names. Smiling, he said, “Dad, did you really think I’d make you fight half the noble families and the martial world? Here. These are the real troublemakers—corrupt officials, lawless commoners. Killing them is justifiable. Consider it charity—worth seven hundred *Buddhist pagodas* of merit.”
Xu Xiao exhaled in relief, feigning solemnity as he accepted the revised list. “In that case, no need for excessive force. Within a year, they’ll vanish. My son is truly filial, easing his father’s burdens and accumulating virtue.”
Xu Fengnian popped a half-peeled orange into his mouth. “Damn right.”
Xu Xiao shot Chu Lushan a sharp glance, and the fat man scurried off with the list—his massive bulk moving with surprising stealth.
Seeing his son’s improving complexion, Xu Xiao smiled warmly. “Son, when I said you weren’t my flesh and blood, I only meant you don’t look like me. You take after your mother.”
Xu Fengnian merely grunted in response.
Sensing the topic’s discomfort, the Great Pillar changed course. “Huangman’er refuses to go to Dragon-Tiger Mountain. Talk to him—he listens to you.”
Xu Fengnian nodded. “I know. Now go. You’re blocking my fishing.”
Xu Xiao chuckled. “Just a little longer. It’s been three years since we last spoke.”
Xu Fengnian glared. “Should’ve thought of that before exiling me! *Scram!*”
The single word *”Scram!”* carried the force of a dragon’s roar.
And thus, the pitiable, tragic Northern Liang Prince fled like a whipped dog, not daring to linger another moment.
For some reason, every time Jiang Ni faced the Great Pillar of the Nation—who seemed no different from an indulgent wealthy patriarch—she would feel a bone-chilling cold seep through her entire body. She dared not reveal even a hint of killing intent toward this man, who was far more deserving of her hatred than Xu Fengnian.
At first, she thought it was her own cowardice. But as she grew older and bolder, she became even more cautious, as if this man—who had once charged into the royal palace clad in black armor—was the most terrifying person in the world.
Only later did she learn that the previous emperor had personally promised to treat the royal family of Western Chu with kindness, even intending to enfeoff her father as a prince. Yet Xu Xiao had still thrust his sword through the chest of the Western Chu emperor—her kind-hearted father, who loved poetry more than war—right in front of Jiang Ni, who had been nestled in her father’s arms. Then, he tossed a length of white silk to her mother.
Jiang Ni, originally named Jiang Xi, the Princess of Taiping, could never understand Xu Xiao, the Butcher of Men. To her mother, who had once harbored hopes of survival, the Great Pillar of the Nation had coldly said, *”If you don’t wish to become a plaything beneath men, then end your own life.”*
Yet karma was inescapable. This ruthless man had two worthless sons—one a fool, the other a good-for-nothing playboy.
The fool possessed immense natural strength, but even so, he was no figure to lead the 300,000 iron cavalry of Northern Liang. Thus, Jiang Ni resolved to kill Xu Fengnian, the heir who would one day inherit the princely title. That way, no matter how powerful Xu Xiao had been in life—how he had stood above all but one—his legacy would inevitably crumble, and his followers would scatter. So Jiang Ni was willing to wait, willing to endure this wretched existence.
Xu Fengnian flicked his sleeve, shooing away the azure-white luan perched on his hand, and tossed aside the scrap of Shu brocade that had been torn by its talons. With a faint smile, he turned to Yuan Zuozong, the Martial God of Northern Liang, who had been standing respectfully nearby. *”Third Brother Yuan, you may rest now.”*
Yuan Zuozong, who had never heard such an intimate address before, stiffened in surprise. After a moment’s hesitation, he bowed and withdrew.
At last, the Listening Tide Pavilion was quiet. The view beyond was picturesque, like a painting.
Xu Fengnian did not pick up the fishing rod. Instead, he reclined on the couch and murmured, *”Jiang Ni, you should go out and see the world someday.”*
The exiled princess, not bothering to ponder his meaning, sneered. *”Your Highness’s little excursion is bound to bring calamity upon countless innocents. What a grand gesture—truly worthy of the Great Pillar of the Nation’s son.”*
Xu Fengnian turned his head and grinned. *”If not for that, how else could I erase your palace seal for you?”*
Jiang Ni curled her lips in disdain, summoning a tidal wave of hatred—enough to weigh a thousand *jin* of resentment, ten thousand *liang* of vengeance.
Xu Fengnian smiled. *”Do you know? When you’re angry, you look exactly the same as when you’re happy—both times, you have those little dimples. That’s what I love most about you. So take your time before trying to kill me. I’d like to see them a few more times.”*
Jiang Ni replied expressionlessly, *”Just wait. The next time I kill you, I’ll be smiling my happiest smile.”*
Xu Fengnian sat up straight, scooping a handful of bait from a phoenix-carved glazed bowl and tossing it into the lake beyond the railing. A swarm of koi leaped from the water, their scales flashing. Gazing at this lively scene, the heir of Northern Liang, with his back to Jiang Ni, sighed softly. *”That will surely be the most breathtaking sight in the world.”*
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