Blade in the Snow

Chapter 17: Tell It to the Mountain Ghosts

By the second day, everything had come to light. The woman named Fan Xiaochai was a daughter of a fallen noble family, ruined by the maneuvers of the Great Pillar of State. She was a dead piece on the chessboard; regardless of whether her mission succeeded or failed, her death was sealed. Yet, her utility was significant: she served to activate other pieces, claim territory, and dig out roots.

The second young master of the Lin family was merely a fool who had been used. He was left half-dead, completely unaware that he had been manipulated. Obsessed only with the romantic allure of Sister Fan's lips, his studies had addled his brain. He failed to realize that the more captivating a woman, the more likely she was a calamity. A clumsily arranged chance encounter had him bewitched, leading him to unknowingly bring danger into the Beiliang Royal Palace. Heaven knows how the Lin family of Qiao Guo in Hedong felt upon learning of this disaster—their hearts must have turned to ash.

Last night's assassination attempt was not refined; it was crude, reeking of desperation. The plan involved Miss Fan mapping the palace and sketching a portrait of Heir Xu Fengnian under the guise of sightseeing, then seizing an opportunity to strike. However, their calculations were far inferior to those of the Liang Royal Palace. Everyone involved had met their doom. As for the mastermind behind the Fan woman and the fate of the Qiao Guo Lin family, Xu Fengnian, currently warming wine in the Tide-Watching Pavilion, couldn't be bothered to care. He only wanted to know: Did Fan Xiaochai regret dying for a man she had never even met?

Xu Fengnian felt no pity for these moths flying into the flame. Beautiful women in this world were like bamboo shoots after rain or night grass on the steppe: cut down one batch, and a new one would sprout the next year. They could never be fully eradicated or burned away. If he were to show compassion to every single one, he would work himself to death. Xu Fengnian simply didn't have the leisure for such sentiments. Moreover, after three years of wandering like a stray dog, he had learned many simple truths of the marketplace. He remembered meeting a mediocre young swordsman of similar disposition along the way. That fellow loved to spout grand theories about how showing mercy to enemies was tantamount to endangering one's own life. He claimed to have learned these from unsuccessful, unnamed senior swordsmen. Every time he spoke, saliva would fly, spraying all over Xu Fengnian's face.

Xu Fengnian still remembered that guy, who couldn't afford an iron sword and carried only a wooden one. Whenever he saw wandering swordsmen on the street, his eyes lit up exactly like a flower-plucking thief spotting a beauty. If that guy knew that Old Huang, whom he had forced to listen to his boasts about "Great Vehicle Sword Arts" every day, was actually Sword Nine Huang—a man capable of fighting the monster Wang of Wudi City—and that the old man's back scabbard hid five of the world's most famous swords, what would he think? Was that fellow, whose mind was filled with dreams of finding a great master, still safe? Had he ever entered the hall of swordsmanship?

When they parted at the Southern Yan border, that man had spoken with heroic spirit: "Brother, when I make it big someday, I'll treat you to the best spiced beef! If one jin isn't enough, we'll have three jin! Eat until you're full!"

Three jin of beef seemed to be the limit of his imagination.

The true Jianghu rarely produces peerless experts who can sever rivers with a single sword or lift mountains. More often, it is filled with nameless nobodies like that fellow, chasing unreachable and ridiculous Jianghu dreams. Xu Fengnian rubbed his cheeks hard. Seeing Yuan Zuozong standing nearby, waiting quietly, he quickly stood up and moved an embroidered stool for the General of the Dragon Guard (Rank 3). A flash of surprise crossed Yuan Zuozong's eyes, but he sat down as steady as a great bell and spoke solemnly, "Your Highness, the Prince asked me how to deal with the woman surnamed Fan."

Xu Fengnian smiled, "Do whatever needs to be done."

Yuan Zuozong nodded slightly. Receiving an unexpected answer, he immediately stood up to take his leave.

Xu Fengnian did not stop him but stood up again shortly after sitting down. "Third Brother Yuan, let's drink together when you have time. We won't go home until we're drunk."

Yuan Zuozong showed a rare smile. "Good."

Xu Fengnian picked up a pot of wine prepared earlier from the tea table and walked toward the Tide-Watching Pavilion, heading straight to the eighth floor. There, he found his master, Li Yishan (courtesy name Yuanyuan), buried in copying books. The disheveled, haggard man was not well-known in the Jianghu or the court, but within the Beiliang Royal Palace, no one dared show the slightest disrespect to this foremost guest scholar. Xu Fengnian sat beside him, familiarly picking up a green gourd from the rosewood desk and pouring wine into it. The aroma instantly filled the air. Only then did the man stop writing, smiling softly, "Now, the scent of powder and rouge on you has finally faded. These three years of wandering have indeed been beneficial."

Xu Fengnian chuckled, then asked with concern, "Master, Old Huang went to Wudi City. Can he retrieve that Huanglu Sword from the city wall?"

Li Yishan took a sip of wine and shook his head gently.

Xu Fengnian was shocked. "Old Kui from the lake bottom was already overwhelmingly powerful, and Old Huang is clearly a notch above him. Does that mean Wang Xianzhi, who calls himself the city lord of that Eastern Sea, is truly invincible under heaven?"

Li Yishan held the green gourd, stopped drinking, and merely sniffed it. He said slowly, "Invincible under heaven? Above the First Rank, there is still a small group of people. Wang Xianzhi has immersed himself in martial arts all his life, nearing the realm of mystery, but he cannot be called invincible. The current martial world is one of warlords carving out territories, each with their own strengths. The scene of a single person standing alone at the peak will not happen now, nor will it be possible in the future. Besides, the pinnacle of martial arts merely touches the threshold of the Heavenly Dao. Furthermore, the influence of warriors outside the court on the general situation of the world is minimal. Otherwise, your Beiliang Iron Cavalry wouldn't have trampled the entire Jianghu underfoot back then. You are unwilling to learn martial arts; the Great Pillar of State does not force you, and neither do I. That is how it is. Even a million strong soldiers bow their heads; it is better to be a feared traitor to the state. Civil officials may disturb governance, but a lone commoner is hardly capable of plunging a nation into chaos."

Xu Fengnian laughed dryly. For over a decade, the Liyang Dynasty had tirelessly spread this bloodless, heart-piercing phrase: "A million soldiers can be subdued, but a single traitor is to be feared." The first half was a backhanded compliment to the Great Pillar of State's martial achievements, suspect of praising to kill. The second half revealed the dagger, a blatant bludgeoning. This statement was crafted with great learning. Even Xu Xiao had clapped and laughed upon hearing it, though after laughing, he cursed, "That bunch of idle, empty-talking pure-stream scholars from the Shangyin Academy should be killed."

Li Yishan lifted the wine pot and made space, letting Xu Fengnian take over copying the unique edition of the classic. Xu Fengnian was long accustomed to this. His calligraphy skills were quite solid, yet he had never cultivated any noble righteousness. Whenever Li Yishan saw Xu Fengnian's strokes were improper, he would tap him with the green gourd. After making the Heir copy for the duration of a lamp's oil, Li Yishan sat down again. Xu Fengnian lay beside him, looking sideways at his master. An aged face and white hair mark the decline; yellow scrolls and a green lamp signify an empty heart. It is said that the greatest suffering in the human world is decline, and the hardest cultivation is emptying the heart. What kind of experiences could make his master so calm? Li Yishan, without looking up, said softly, "Go. See the guest you invited into the Tide-Watching Pavilion. He is about to reach the third floor."

Xu Fengnian uttered an "Oh" and quietly descended the stairs.

On the second floor, Xu Fengnian saw the ambiguous figure of White Fox Face standing beneath an ancient bookshelf piled high to form an entire wall of books. In his left hand, he held a yellowed martial arts secret manual; his right index finger tapped rhythmically against his smooth forehead. The Xiudong Blade, still in its sheath, was inserted into the bookshelf as a marker.

White Fox Face merely glanced at Xu Fengnian before lowering his head again.

Finding himself ignored, Xu Fengnian had to retreat.

In the vast Beiliang Royal Palace, it seemed only the Heir apparent was such an idle, carefree wanderer—so carefree it was ridiculous.

Mid-year, the Great Pillar of State chose an auspicious day to perform the coming-of-age ceremony (Guan Li) for his son in the ancestral temple. Unusually, the ceremony for the eldest son of the prestigious King of Beiliang was less grand than those of ordinary wealthy families. Not only were the invited guests few, but neither of the Heir's two sisters nor his younger brother attended. Dressed simply, Xu Fengnian was led by Xu Xiao into the Grand Temple. They sacrificed to Heaven, Earth, and the ancestors. The capping ceremony was performed three times: first with a black hemp cloth cap, then a white deer skin cap, and finally a red-and-black plain cap. The three small caps atop Xu Fengnian's head drew immense attention and scrutiny. The first cap concerned all court officials of the Liyang Dynasty, as it signified the Heir's eligibility to enter the court and govern. The second cap held more practical and lasting significance, as the 300,000 Iron Cavalry of Beiliang awaited it eagerly. The third cap was merely symbolic and received little attention by comparison.

After a busy day of tying his hair and receiving the caps, Xu Fengnian's face was stiff. After exchanging bows with all the Beiliang border officials who had come to the palace, he finally relaxed. Enjoying the tea, water, shoulder rubs, back pats, and leg massages provided by his personal maids in Wutong Courtyard, he rested sufficiently. Finally, Xu Fengnian personally adjusted his crown and attire before accompanying Xu Xiao to the Princess Consort's tomb.

Two large green-white jade lions stood vividly before the tomb, both depicting lively scenes of mother lions with cubs. The mother lion on the right protected three cubs, symbolizing the Princess Consort and her three biological children: the eldest daughter Xu Zhihu, the second daughter Xu Weixiong, and the youngest son Xu Longxiang. The mother lion on the left, however, only lowered her head to kiss a single cub. The Princess Consort's doting preference for her eldest son, Xu Fengnian, knew no bounds, neither in life nor in death! Standing before the stone lions, Xu Fengnian's eyes turned red. The Great Pillar of State, Xu Xiao, sighed softly. Whenever young Fengnian felt wronged, he would sneak here and stay the whole night, regardless of cold or heat, yet he never fell ill.

The area surrounding the Princess Consort's tomb was built with two layers of white jade walls, creating a grand spectacle of a city within a city. The main spirit path stretched for sixty zhang. According to ritual standards, only nine types of stone beasts should line the spirit paths of imperial kings in the dynasty. Here, there were fourteen! Nearly a hundred stone carvings, spiritually determined and vigorous, flowed with a single momentum, majestic as a rainbow. Furthermore, the height of the tomb mound and the scale of the underground palace far exceeded those of any other vassal king in the dynasty. Uniquely, it included a dressing table and two maid tombs, structures without precedent. When the tomb was first completed, it was criticized by countless people. Overnight, the Emperor's study was filled with impeachment memorials, but they were all suppressed and ignored.

The hunchbacked and lame Great Pillar of State stood silently before the grave.

After completing the sacrificial rites, Xu Fengnian squatted before the mound and whispered, "Father, I'll stay a little longer."

The Great Pillar of State said gently, "Don't catch a cold. Your mother would be heartbroken."

Xu Fengnian answered with an "Mm."

The Butcher King of Beiliang walked along the main spirit path, counting silently in his heart. Exactly 365 steps.

This sole Great Pillar of State, who wielded power over the court and countryside, clearly remembered his first entry into the court to receive his title. Walking from that red-lacquered gate to the door of the Kunji Hall, young and vigorous, he had taken 284 steps. Later, as he aged and his leg worsened, the steps became more numerous, slower, and longer, but never exceeding 365.

Forty years of military career to reach today's position; Xu Xiao felt no guilt, feared neither heaven nor earth, nor ghosts nor spirits.

Stepping off the main spirit path, the Great Pillar of State turned to look back. That child must be humming that little tune, the "Spring God Ballad," taught to him by his mother.

Xu Xiao thought of the secret letter urgently delivered to his desk in the third watch of the previous night. He hesitated whether to hand it over or not. On this joyous occasion of Fengnian's coming-of-age, the letter's timing was terrible.

The King of Beiliang walked along a small path to the summit of Qingliang Mountain. Though seemingly alone, he was actually surrounded by countless hidden sentries. Not to mention the fierce soldiers carefully selected from the army, there were three personal guards who were First-Rank experts, only two lines away from the Grandmaster realm. Xu Xiao believed his head was worth some gold. In his youth, he felt it didn't matter if he died on the battlefield and his head was taken by the enemy; being wrapped in a horse's hide was a happy end. But the higher his title, the more he cherished his life. This wasn't simply fear of death. Xu Xiao always insisted that today's glory was fought for by countless brothers sacrificing their lives. Going down to the underworld too early would betray the souls of those heroes hastily buried across the north and south. Especially since most of them had families and clans, he needed to look after them to feel at ease. A tall tree attracts wind; when the tree falls, the wind blows even harder. Noble families are no different from dynasties; attacking and defending are both difficult. Xu Xiao had seen too many family heads die young from exhaustion.

He entered the Yellow Crane Tower, which felt somewhat cold and gloomy. Climbing from the mountain peak to the tower's top mirrored the brilliant and imposing life of this king of a different surname. Standing with hands behind his back, he did not beat the railings like a scholar singing pointlessly about imaginary woes. He simply gazed at the night view of the city. Currently, he had two sons and two daughters, commanded 300,000 Iron Cavalry, had six adopted sons, possessed experts galore in his palace, countless guest strategists, and students and former subordinates spread throughout the court and wild. Move by move, hidden pieces were placed and took root in all directions. So-called halls full of gold and wealth rivaling a nation amounted to nothing more than this. Of course, political enemies and personal foes were equally countless. Wasn't that little girl surnamed Fan just a blind sparrow flying into a net? But Xu Xiao generally couldn't be bothered to calculate against such minor characters. Beiliang's military affairs were already busy enough; border beacon fires rose every few years, mostly ignited by his own hands. He also had to deal with every whisper from the Imperial City, let alone bother with Jianghu matters anymore. Xu Xiao rubbed his hands together, accidentally recalling a poem he heard in his youth. Unfortunately, he could only remember fragments, something about viewing something in the Imperial City, which was blurry. But the last line, Xu Xiao always remembered clearly: "Fifty years of great enterprise, tell it to the mountain ghosts."

Xu Xiao stood in the empty corridor of the Yellow Crane Tower until the east sky turned fish-belly white. Only then did he say softly, "Yin, deliver the letter to Fengnian. After all, he has now undergone the coming-of-age ceremony."

There was no visible response.

Xu Xiao waited patiently for the sun to rise.

The Great Pillar of State had twelve elite death guards, coded by the Twelve Earthly Branches. When his eldest son Xu Fengnian was born, he began cultivating another batch of death guards for his descendants, named after the Ten Heavenly Stems. Unfortunately, to date, only four had been trained. During his son's travels, two more died successively. Completing the set of ten (Jia, Yi, Bing, Ding, Wu, Ji, Geng, Xin, Ren, Gui) seemed increasingly distant. Fortunately, two special chess pieces outside the Heavenly Stem death guards satisfied the Great Pillar of State greatly. These children, the oldest no more than twenty-five and the youngest merely twelve, were dark stakes cultivated with immense financial and material resources. Perhaps their martial arts were temporarily inferior to First-Rank experts, but regarding methods of killing, they were not lacking at all. Only those who can kill can save; Xu Xiao was more certain of this than anyone.

As Xu Xiao descended the stairs, he asked, "Chou. Yuan Zuozong can submit to my son. What about Chen Zhibao?"

From the shadows came a hoarse voice like a dull knife grinding on stone: "Reporting to My Lord, he cannot."

Xu Xiao rubbed his temples, smiled, and said, "If I remember correctly, Chen Zhibao saved your life during the battle at Luoyang Princess Tomb. With such friendship, don't you know how to smooth things over for him? Aren't you afraid he might die violently today?"

Silence.

Loyalty, Filial Piety, Righteousness.

In Beiliang, this order cannot be confused. Whoever confuses it dies. If "Chou," destined to forever hide behind the scenes, smoothed things over for Chen Zhibao, it would merely be a small matter of adding one more life to the toll.

Xu Xiao's thoughts were unfathomable. He muttered to himself, "Little Butcher."