Blade in the Snow

Chapter 6: Let's Go

The White Fox Face entered the Royal Palace without any obstruction. For those martial artists whose homes and sects had been trampled by the Beiliang Iron Cavalry in years past, this place was not only harder to enter than climbing to heaven, but also fraught with hidden dangers within. It stood alongside Wudi City, guarded by the "Second Best Under Heaven," and the Wu Family Sword Tomb, which produced generations of Sword Immortals, as one of the three forbidden and perilous lands.

Wudi City had an old monster who looked down on all experts under heaven.

The Sword Tomb housed a vast number of haggard swordsmen who pledged to use only swords, or even touch only swords, for their entire lives.

As for the Beiliang Royal Palace, besides the openly visible Beiliang Iron Cavalry guards, there were countless reclusive experts hidden in the shadows. During that great martial world catastrophe, the Human Butcher Xu Xiao not only cut down countless renowned martial artists like harvesting straw but also recruited a considerable number of "running dogs" with poor character but monstrous strength.

From the very first day he took the field, the once-nameless Xu Xiao hardly ever removed his armor or dismounted his horse. Nearly forty years of seemingly endless rapid ascent were enough for Xu Xiao, this great demon head who made all martial artists tremble with fear, to keep countless guests, debaters, knights, and assassins. He rewarded them with heavy gold, beautiful maids, fame, profit, power, and status.

After the martial library was built, various martial arts enthusiasts came to study, willingly selling their lives to guard the residence for the King of Beiliang.

What normal person would dare to pluck the tiger's whiskers or touch the dragon's inverted scales? There was only one person who dared to call himself "Father" before Xu Xiao and use force: Xu Fengnian, the one who led the White Fox Face, Nan Gong Pu She, into the palace.

At this moment, the Heir apparent briefly introduced the palace scenery to the White Fox Face, who knew only her surname. As Fengnian had said, he could not endure hardship nor learn martial arts. Possessing a martial library that every warrior under heaven dreamed of, he only knew how to read obscure and inferior books within. Thus, Fengnian had no profound sense of the killing intent lurking every three steps in the palace's dark corners. The White Fox Face, however, dared not let her guard down.

Arriving beneath the majestic Tide-Listening Pavilion, she looked up at the roof with complex eyes. Though called a pavilion, it was actually a proper multi-story tower with a pyramidal roof, layered flying eaves, and identical views from all four sides.

Fengnian smiled lightly: "Externally, it is claimed to have six floors, but internally there are nine. Numbers begin at one and end at nine, after all. But fearing that someone in the capital with too much time on their hands would speak sarcastically, it appears as it does now.

As you can see, the lower four floors have outer corridors. The fifth and sixth can serve as observation halls. The top floor holds no books or items; it is completely empty. Inside, five people are specifically responsible for arranging the martial arts secret manuals from bottom to top according to cultivation difficulty. These should be the 'library-keeping slaves' spoken of in the martial world. They are old fellows I have known since childhood, appearing and disappearing like ghosts.

There is only one copyist. I learned calligraphy and painting from him. He is a consumptive, looking more like a ghost than a ghost, yet he is addicted to alcohol as if his life depended on it. Every time I go upstairs, I must bring him wine.

If you say the library-keeping martial slaves are experts, I believe it. If my half-master is one, I will jump down from the ninth floor."

The White Fox Face did not push her luck by demanding entry into the tower. She did not even admire the spectacle of ten thousand carp leaping in the lake. Turning to leave, she said lightly: "First, help me retrieve a set of Sumeru Mustard Seed. The Buddhist sacred site of Beilin Temple possesses only an incomplete half-set. The tower should have the other half, totaling six volumes. I read quickly; going volume by volume is too troublesome and not cost-effective for me. Since I will pay for the wine you need to go upstairs, and I can only give you one of Embroidered Winter or Spring Thunder, the fewer times you ascend, the more at ease I will feel."

Fengnian asked softly, with a hint of bargaining: "Can I have the Spring Thunder blade?"

True to his straightforward nature, the White Fox Face answered without hesitation: "Yes."

Fengnian asked in surprise: "You are truly willing to part with it?"

Walking away directly, the White Fox Face said calmly: "In this world, there is nothing one cannot bear to let go of."

Following behind, Fengnian pursed his lips, mutting disagreeably: "Perhaps only those who are utterly alone have the qualification to say such things."

The White Fox Face settled in a secluded courtyard not far from the Heir's compound, living a life of yellow scrolls and green lamps that Fengnian found utterly boring. She stayed up all night; judging by her demeanor, she was only lacking in chiseling through walls to steal light or hanging herself by the hair to study.

Originally, Fengnian had wanted to drag this beauty out to enjoy the wind and moon, but he gave up. Apart from entering the courtyard to deliver books or returning them to the Tide-Listening Pavilion, they only chatted briefly when delivering books, touching lightly on martial world affairs.

For example, he asked the White Fox Face who among the Ten Great Masters under heaven was the most peerless, or whether the Four Great Beauties were truly capable of sinking fish and dropping geese. These were naive questions from an outsider.

Living under another's roof, the White Fox Face had no intention of currying favor. Most of the time, she ignored him.

Fengnian could do nothing about this. However, his only gain was that the currently unapproachable White Fox Face now allowed him to touch the two blades, Embroidered Winter and Spring Thunder. She even did not mind him drawing Embroidered Winter to amuse himself with a few clumsy moves.

To this, the Great Pillar of State turned a blind eye, never asking a single question.

...

News of the Heir apparent's return spread immediately. On that very day, several major prodigals of Lingzhou who were friendly with Fengnian eagerly rushed to his door. At that time, he was still sound asleep, and the Great Pillar of State sent them all away.

It was not until now that anyone could disturb him in the residence. One was Yan Chiji, the second son of Yan Jiexi, the Governor of Lingzhou. The other was the notoriously evil Young Master Li of Fengzhou, Li Hanlin.

The former, due to the unfortunate homophone of his name, was called "Grandpa Eats Chicken" by prodigals in neighboring prefectures. Yet he was a rare upright gentleman, a bookworm, albeit a cute one. He was vague on small matters but crystal clear on big ones.

The latter, Young Master Li, whose name was elegant and refined, was a thorough bully. Throwing living people into beast cages to watch them being torn apart was merely one of Fengzhou's number one prodigal's twisted hobbies. He killed both men and women, especially favoring young boys with red lips and white teeth. He always kept one or two green-robed book boys with delicate features nearby for his enjoyment and molestation.

Fengnian knew Yan Jiexi because Young Master Yan had been accustomed to being the Heir's lackey since childhood. Fengnian also enjoyed teasing this peer who always hung the sages' teachings on his lips.

As for Li Hanlin, that scum was ruthless and consequence-free when harming others, but impeccable toward friends. Moreover, Li Hanlin had a sister who was extremely delicate and beautiful. Fengnian had coveted her for a long time and hoped to get close through proximity.

Besides the bookworm Yan Chiji and the evil youth Li Hanlin, there was originally another close friend from an official family, surnamed Kong. However, with his father's promotion to the capital, they had not seen each other for four years. That one was a martial arts maniac.

When the four gathered, the division of labor was basically: leader Fengnian came up with bad ideas; the meticulous Yan Chiji, who calculated without omission, cleaned up the mess; Kong the Martial Maniac provided the muscle; and if things were exposed, the smash-the-pot Li Hanlin took the blame. It was seamless.

"Brother Feng..." Yan Chiji, who had been Fengnian's little follower for over ten years, was now a graceful young master. But upon meeting, he looked as if he were about to burst into tears. After uttering the intimate address with a hundred twists of tenderness, his eyes moistened.

Sigh, this guy was good in every way except being delicate. Sentimental and mourning spring while grieving autumn, like a woman. No wonder Li Hanlin thought this guy shared his Lord Yang passion just like himself. Except Li was a real man who played with young boys, while Yan Chiji was infatuated with Brother Feng.

"Brother Feng!" Li Hanlin's greeting was far more domineering. He wanted to embrace Fengnian after their long separation, but the latter lifted a foot and gently pressed it against his abdomen, laughing and cursing: "Stay away from me. You reek of powder and rouge from men."

The fox friends and dog companions reunited at the White Crane Tower atop Qingliang Mountain, the best spot for distant viewing. The couplet hanging outside the tower, "An old friend sees me off below Yang Pass; an immortal helps me ascend Huangshan," was not written by any calligraphy master renowned within the dynasty and overseas, whose single character was worth a thousand gold. It was written by eight-year-old Xu Fengnian.

Viewed now, it seemed increasingly childish. Yet even though his brushwork had become much more fluid and powerful, the copyist in the Tide-Listening Pavilion—Fengnian's half-master—said this was the couplet with the least artificial craftsmanship by the Heir. Both the characters and the meaning were so. Back then, the Great Pillar of State, overjoyed, had it directly copied, carefully rubbings made, and hung up. Over these years, there had been no sign of replacing it.

Fengnian did not elaborate much on the bitterness and hardship of the past three years. He simply selected some fresh martial world anecdotes and tales to tell his two peers. He spoke slowly and vividly, causing the two to jump in surprise and envy immensely.

After finishing a pot of wine, Fengnian had nearly finished his stories. Yan Chiji and Li Hanlin were still reminiscing. Fengnian walked to the corridor, leaned on the railing, and smiled lightly: "Now you know you are frogs at the bottom of a well, right? 'Grandpa Eats Chicken' will surely read ten thousand volumes of books in the future. I have also walked several thousand li. What about you, Hanlin?"

The carefree Li Hanlin scratched his head: "How about I become a general in the future and kill ten thousand people?"

Yan Chiji scoffed: "Brute."

Li Hanlin jumped in anger: "Dare you say that to the Great Pillar of State?"

Yan Chiji was speechless, unable to answer or refute for a moment.

Fengnian proposed: "Shall we ride out for a spin?"

Li Hanlin agreed first, ecstatic: "Then we must go to the Purple Gold Tower! Flower-Queen Yu has not accepted a single guest for your sake these past three years. Her title has been overshadowed by a new flower-queen."

Fengnian asked: "Did you bring silver?"

Li Hanlin patted his bulging belly and chuckled: "See this? For this trip, I stole ten thousand taels of silver notes from the secret room. For Brother Feng, I am risking my capital. Even if I am confined upon return, I accept it."

Yan Chiji mocked: "Look at how ambitious you are."

Li Hanlin had thick skin and laughed: "Then you try stealing some out. Not ten thousand, just one thousand. Dare you? You scholars only know how to discuss strategy on paper. When it comes to serious business like quarreling or fighting, which time was it not the three of us—Feng, you, and me—doing the work? Give you a naked woman, and you wouldn't dare roll on her belly. Yet you dare say I have no ambition."

Yan Chiji's face turned red. He snorted coldly.

On every desolate night with the sky as a blanket and the earth as a bed, listening to Old Huang's grating snores nearby, Fengnian, having shifted from complaining about heaven and men to finding joy in bitterness, would miss the times bickering with his close friends. Riding horses together by the Nanhuai River, teasing virtuous families, singing loudly while ascending brothels, causing trouble together, committing sins together, getting dead drunk together.

The three said in unison: "Let's go..."