Blade in the Snow

Chapter 15: There is a Cow-Rider on the Mountain

Xu Fengnian returned to the palace with a squad of elite cavalry. Arriving at the courtyard where Old Kui was staying, he entered the room to see a table full of delicacies—a clear sign of a man who could not live without meat and wine.

Old Kui's figure was like a small mountain. Even while sitting, his aura was formidable, especially with the two chains and two blades beside him. The servants hid in the courtyard, daring not to approach. Seeing Xu Fengnian, Old Kui asked bluntly: "Kid, did Huang Lao Jiu go to Wudi City to gamble his life against that Old Immortal Wang?"

Xu Fengnian, looking desolate, nodded. He sat on a stool opposite the white-haired Old Kui and remained silent.

The old martial artist laughed: "Little kid, I didn't expect you to be such a nostalgic master. In this regard, you are much more honest than your father. Xu Xiao, that butcher, is not only full of tricks but also hypocritical, with honey on his lips and poison in his heart. We can share hardships, but if you want to share wealth and honor with him, forget it! Hey, little kid, angry? With your cat-claw kung fu, do you want to fight me? Without Huang Lao Jiu, unless the Beiliang Royal Palace calls out all the remaining hidden experts, no one can fight Grandpa."

Xu Fengnian pursed his lips and muttered: "You only dare to claim kingship when the tiger is gone and the monkeys rule the mountain now that Old Huang is away."

Old Kui had sharp ears but wasn't angry. He said freely: "If I can't beat him, I can't beat him. There's nothing shameful about that. Huang Lao Jiu's swordsmanship rivals that Deng Tai'a, who likes to cause trouble with a peach blossom branch. There are so many sword learners under heaven. Even the Wu Sword Tomb hasn't produced a swordsman in the last thirty years who could make Old Immortal Wang use both hands. Grandpa admits defeat to Huang Lao Jiu wholeheartedly. Since I was born, among sword users, except for Deng Tai'a who drew with Old Immortal Wang, only Huang Lao Jiu lost by a narrow margin. You can count them on one hand in the entire world."

These words gave Xu Fengnian a bit more goodwill toward him. He thought: No wonder experts are experts; look at this magnanimity. How could ordinary people possess this? No wonder there are so few experts in the world. It's perfectly understandable that I, this young master, cannot become an expert.

But just as Xu Fengnian began to admire him, Old Kui's next sentence ruined the image of the high master he had inadvertently built up: "Kid, where is a spacious latrine? Grandpa isn't used to these gold-inlaid, jade-decorated toilets here. After holding it in at the bottom of the lake for all these years, I couldn't even fart or take a dump freely. Hurry up and find Grandpa a feng shui treasure land to relieve myself. I estimate the smell will reach people several li away! Haha!"

Watching Old Kui, who still had roasted meat stuffed in his mouth, thinking about going to the latrine to stink people out, Xu Fengnian's face stiffened and twitched. He stood up, called a servant to lead the chain-dragging, giant-blade-wielding old fellow to the toilet, and then Xu Fengnian himself fled far away as fast as his legs could carry him. All along the way, he kept scowling and cursing: "Experts, my ass!"

Wutong Courtyard was where Xu Fengnian grew up. As the ancient saying goes: "The Phoenix does not stop except on the Wutong tree; the female Phoenix does not perch except on the Paulownia."

The Great Pillar of State, Xu Xiao, always liked to speak earnestly: "Son, when your mother gave birth to you, she dreamed of a phoenix entering her belly. You are destined to be a great talent! If I don't dote on you, who should I dote on?"

At first, Xu Fengnian would retort: "Then why haven't any reclusive experts said my bone structure is unique and that I'm a martial arts genius?" Xu Xiao would explain: "True experts are the type who plant their buttocks in one place and refuse to move. Look at Wang Xianzhi and those old swordsmen from the Wu Sword Tomb; which one goes around claiming to be an expert? Those who mix in the Jianghu are all charlatans. How could they see my son's innate talents?"

After Xu Fengnian's ears grew calluses from hearing this, he simply ignored it. He felt that as the heir to the only heterodox king in the dynasty, with countless powerful servants, he shouldn't need to roll up his sleeves and beat people up. Yet, deep down, he still envied those chivalrous heroes who came with the wind and went with the clouds, walking on eaves and walls, testing each other on city walls and rooftops.

Now, having witnessed the supernatural abilities of the groom Old Huang and the white-haired Old Kui, he felt a tinge of regret. He had heard that the few divine couples who traveled the Jianghu were always men with supreme skills and women of breathtaking beauty. When had anyone heard of a man who was handsome and elegant paired with a woman whose martial arts covered the world?

As soon as Xu Fengnian entered Wutong Courtyard, this gloomy mood vanished like light clouds. A senior maid named Qingniao approached him. On her slender arm, wrapped in precious Shu embroidery, perched the "Six-Year Phoenix" gyrfalcon. Seeing the Young Master, she smiled beautifully and said: "Young Master, Hongshu has warmed the bed, and Lvyi is waiting on the Go board for you to play 'Rotting Axe Handle' with her."

Xu Fengnian reached out to tease the gyrfalcon, then walked inside smiling. Two graceful maids in the outer room immediately helped him remove his outer robe.

The twenty-odd maids and female servants of the four ranks in Wutong Courtyard originally had elegant names like "Red Musk" and "Parrot." However, after the Young Master returned from his travels, except for Qingniao who was lucky, most had their names changed. Even Hongshu, the senior maid who was always the most favored due to her natural fragrance, could not escape. She was changed to the vulgar name "Sweet Potato" (Hongshu). Others were even more unlucky, such as Bai Gan, named after strong liquor. The most unfortunate was a maid who liked wearing yellow clothes and was thus given the name "Cucumber."

Entering the inner room, Xu Fengnian jumped onto the bed and burrowed under the covers, hugging a beautiful girl of sixteen. The entire quilt was filled with a refreshing fragrance. In a few days, it would become even more miraculous: whenever this girl in his arms stepped outside, she would attract bees and butterflies. She was the senior maid, Sweet Potato.

The maid skilled in the nineteen-by-nineteen lines of Go was named Green Ant (Lvyi), known as the female Go master of the Beiliang Royal Palace. Some guests skilled in hand-talk would get a headache facing her. Normally, Go boards were seventeen by seventeen lines. Changing seventeen to nineteen was another bold move by Xu Fengnian's second sister, which once caused a huge uproar in the dynasty. It was finally accepted and promoted by the Shangyin Academy first, becoming the mainstream among famous scholars.

Xu Fengnian played a game with Green Ant but was distracted, naturally losing miserably.

His chess skills were actually not bad. Even his master, Li Yishan, commented: "His vision is excellent, but he lacks strength in detailed layout." Although this didn't sound like praise, coming from Li Yishan's mouth, it was a significant honor.

Of course, to say Xu Fengnian was a Go master would be an exaggeration. The true national master was his second sister, Xu Weixiong. She was a formidable figure who made the so-called "Wooden Fox" scholars feel ashamed.

Xu Fengnian pushed away the already finished endgame, lay down on the bed, and let the senior maid Sweet Potato massage his temples. Staring into space, he looked absent-minded. Seeing her master in a bad mood, the second-rank maid Green Ant dared not disturb him. Xu Fengnian got up and said: "You all go out first. Without my permission, not even Xu Xiao is allowed in."

Sweet Potato was plump, with fair and beautiful skin. Combined with her natural body fragrance and elegant demeanor, she did not deliberately vie for favor, yet she was the most favored. As she got off the bed, Xu Fengnian smilingly patted her buttocks. Her pretty face turned red, and she looked back with a smile that brought a hundred charms.

After the maids left, Xu Fengnian immediately sat up straight. He took out the silk scrolls from his chest, which could be called a sword manual. This was Old Huang's life's work. Even though Xu Fengnian had no interest in martial arts, he had to treat it solemnly. He hid it in a mechanism box of unknown material under the bed.

To open the box, one had to move seventy-two small grids without a single mistake. The box was extremely hard; even hacking with knives or swords wouldn't get the contents out. Xu Fengnian moved skillfully; he could open this relic of his mother with his eyes closed. After placing the sword manual inside, he pushed the box back into the hidden compartment under the bed and lay back down.

Xu Fengnian estimated the time. The white-haired Old Kui should have finished his business in the latrine by now. He got out of bed, left the inner room, put on his embroidered clothes, and shouted: "Cucumber!" The maid, who wished she never had to wear yellow clothes again in her life, immediately went to another courtyard to fetch three cucumbers. Xu Fengnian held one in his hand and tucked two under his arms, gnawing as he walked.

At first, he worried that the area within a li of Old Kui's courtyard would be unbearably smelly. But as he approached, he realized he had worried for nothing. The palace latrines were prepared with countless fragrances. Even if Old Kui defecated as domineeringly as he wielded his blade, the smell wouldn't spread far.

Old Kui had not only finished his business but also taken a bath and changed into clean clothes. Sitting on the steps, he lowered his head to stroke the blade edge and asked without looking up: "Kid, are you really not afraid?"

Xu Fengnian sat beside him and smiled lightly: "Old Huang said you are not only the number one blade user under heaven but also never killed a person indiscriminately in your life. So I am not afraid."

Old Kui laughed loudly, shaking his head: "That statement is half true and half false. It's true I don't kill randomly, but I'm not the best with the blade. Kid, your mouth is too slick. I don't like it."

Xu Fengnian grinned: "As long as the girls like me, it's fine. Whether you like it or not doesn't matter. Anyway, once we've beaten that turtle from Wudang Mountain, we'll part ways. However, if Old Grandpa still misses the palace food, feel free to stay and eat and drink to your heart's content. You are most welcome."

The old man chuckled and asked: "That Grandmaster Uncle from Wudang Mountain, roughly what rank is he?"

Xu Fengnian thought for a moment and said: "Probably not high. His generation is just ridiculous. A Wudang Daoist under thirty can't be that high, right? Besides, there's no reputation for him in the Jianghu."

Old Kui nodded in realization: "Oh, then he must be the junior apprentice brother of Wang Chonglou, the Wudang sect leader who cultivates the Great Yellow Court. I heard about him when I entered the Liang region years ago. His martial arts talent is mediocre, but he specializes in Daoist great arts, which are somewhat mysterious."

Xu Fengnian asked the most concerning question: "Can Old Grandpa beat him?"

Old Kui said freely: "Little kid, Grandpa will give you a sentence: Whether you can beat someone or not, you only know after fighting, right?"

Xu Fengnian couldn't help but think sarcastically: That sounds heroic and cloud-piercing, but look at the result—didn't you stay at the bottom of the lake for over ten years?

Old Kui tapped Xu Fengnian's head with the flat of his blade: "Don't think Grandpa doesn't know what you're thinking."

Xu Fengnian piled smiles on his face and chuckled: "Then shall we go make a scene at that damn Wudang Mountain?"

Old Kui suddenly stood up, his figure enveloping Xu Fengnian entirely. The two strings of chains clanked loudly: "Make a scene!"

Wudang Mountain had two pools, four ponds, nine wells, twenty-four deep ravines, thirty-six rocks, and eighty-one peaks. Every five li there was a nunnery, every ten li a palace. With red walls and green tiles, it looked exquisite. Centered on Taizhen Palace atop Yuzhu Peak, the eighty-one peaks leaned downward around this peak and palace, forming the famous "Eighty-One Peaks Bowing to the Great Summit." For a thousand years, countless seekers of the Dao retreated to Wudang, some forgetting the world on cliffs, others hiding in immortal coffins, listening to the golden sounds of Buddhist chants and celestial music, watching mist rise and clouds surge over green hills and beautiful waters, leaving behind countless legends.

Wudang was the Daoist holy land of the previous dynasty, suppressing Longhu Mountain. After the founding of the Liyang Dynasty, Longhu was promoted while Wudang was suppressed, making Longhu Mountain the ancestral court of Daoism.

Although Wudang had been quiet for hundreds of years, no one dared to underestimate the thousand-year foundation of this mountain. The current sect leader, Wang Chonglou, occupied a spot among the Ten Great Masters. Legend had it that he once split the entire surging Canglang River with a single "Immortal Pointing the Way." Whether this was hearsay or exaggeration, he was ultimately a highly respected old immortal of the Daoist sect. Especially now that he was cultivating the Great Yellow Court, the most obscure and time-consuming Daoist technique, the entire Wudang Mountain exuded a silent yet profound atmosphere.

Two hundred Beiliang iron cavalry marched majestically.

A burly old martial artist in black robes ran with a long blade dragging on the ground, kicking up dust.

Mountains crumbled, and the earth cracked.

The group charged straight toward the "Xuanwu Rising" archway at the entrance of Wudang Mountain.

The leading rider actually rode his horse directly up and through the archway before reining in the reins.

In a hundred years of Jianghu history, the only one who dared to despise martial arts sects so blatantly seemed to be that Xu the Butcher, whom the older generation of Jianghu people feared like a tiger.

A fierce father, a dog-like son?

Xu Fengnian, the Heir apparent riding a sturdy Beiliang military horse, smiled self-mockingly. Looking at the group of Daoists attracted by this magnificent array, he shouted gloomily: "I'll give you half an hour. Get that cow-rider to roll out here!"

The Wudang Daoists were in a dilemma. They knew there was a Grandmaster Uncle on the mountain whose seniority was as high as Yuzhu Peak, who liked to ride a green ox backward. But they were just ordinary sacrificial Daoists of the Yuqing Palace at the foot of the mountain. Not to mention that they couldn't summon that Grandmaster Uncle; even if he was easy to talk to, the fastest run to Taizhen Palace would take a full half-hour. A round trip would be an hour. The visitors were aggressive; could they wait?

Front and back of Yuzhu Peak were two Lotus Peaks, large and small. The Large Lotus Peak had over ten heavenly caves and blessed lands for closed-door cultivation. The Small Lotus Peak, with cliffs on one side, was exclusively reserved for one person.

This person was brought up the mountain by the previous Wudang sect leader at age five and accepted as a closed-door disciple. At a young age, he became a junior apprentice brother to the current sect leader, Wang Chonglou.

Among the nine palaces and thirteen observatories of Wudang Mountain, the vast majority of the thousands of yellow-capped Daoists had to respectfully address this young man as "Grandmaster Uncle," and the younger ones even had to call him "Great-Grandmaster Uncle."

Fortunately, this young ancestor had never gone down the mountain. He had only seen the "Xuanwu Rising" archway when entering the mountain and had never approached it since, not even taking a distant glance. For most of the past twenty-plus years, he was either in Taizhen Palace on Yuzhu Peak or riding his green ox backward with his cap on backward on the Large or Small Lotus Peaks. Those who were lucky enough to see his true face returned saying the Grandmaster Uncle had an excellent temper, profound knowledge, and exquisite elegance.

While the mountain gate was noisy and chaotic, it was very quiet by the stone turtle stele on the steep cliff of the Small Lotus Peak.

A young Daoist with a refined appearance lay on the stone turtle's back, sunbathing. With a wave of his hand, a green ox grazing in the distance walked forward. Several volumes of ancient Daoist scriptures hung from its horns. He took one down and was about to read it when he suddenly calculated something with his fingers. Jumping off the turtle's back, he found a withered branch and drew dense Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches on the ground. His face changed slightly. Muttering to himself continuously, he finally sighed heavily.

Carefully adjusting the sleeves and collar of his Daoist robe, he mounted the ox, riding it backward. With books hanging from the horns, he descended the Small Lotus Peak, half-chanting, half-singing: "Straight as a string, dead by the roadside. Curved like a hook, rewarded with a marquisate. Who drags their tail in the mud? Who leaves their bones in the hall..."

Leaving the Small Lotus Peak, he let the green ox go, carefully took down a Daoist classic with the cover titled "Song of the Spiritual Source Dao," and walked while reading, thoroughly engrossed, heading straight for the foot of Wudang Mountain.

Occasionally, Daoists on the road stopped to call him "Master Uncle" or "Grandmaster Uncle," and he would smile and greet them, appearing quite approachable.

Everyone felt this young predecessor was truly diligent, worthy of being the Grandmaster Uncle who had annotated countless ancient seal-script lone copies in the Yuqing Palace. No wonder the Sect Leader praised him with: "He will shoulder the burden of all martial arts and Daoist traditions under heaven."

What they didn't know was that this Grandmaster Uncle with an excellent reputation was currently reading an erotic novel—the most despised genre by Daoists—with shining eyes. It just had the cover of "Song of the Spiritual Source Dao" pasted over it.

The Daoist flipped back and forth on just one page because he couldn't bear to finish it. This was the only peerless classic on the mountain, borrowed from that ill-intentioned Heir apparent years ago. Approaching the foot of the mountain, he read that single page upside down and right side up dozens of times. Only then, with lingering reluctance, did he put it away. With a face full of righteous qi, he declared: "Even if I get beaten black and blue by you, I will absolutely not return this book!"