Chapter 1: Little Waiter Serving Wine

The Prince of Northern Liang's Estate, an imposing and vast compound, sprawled across Qingliang Mountain with countless gates and courtyards, showcasing the pinnacle of architectural grandeur.

As the dynasty's last surviving prince of a different surname, Prince Xu Xiao of Northern Liang, a decorated military official, garnered both praise and criticism in court and the martial world. He had seemingly achieved everything but the imperial throne itself. In the three northwestern provinces, he was the undisputed sovereign, wielding absolute power and control.

It was no wonder that court officials who disagreed with this prince privately, yet politely, called him "Barbarian Xu." Some with more sinister intentions even went so far as to brand him the "Second Emperor."

The Prince's Estate was bustling today. The powerful Prince of Northern Liang himself had opened the main gate and prepared a grand honor guard to welcome an old man of ethereal, immortal bearing. The servants only knew him as an immortal from Longhu Mountain, a sacred Taoist site, who had chosen the simple-minded young prince to be his closed-door disciple. This was considered an immense blessing, and the entire estate attributed it to the saying, "fools have good fortune."

Indeed, the young prince had never cried since birth, was completely illiterate, and only began speaking at the age of six. Yet, his name, Xu Longxiang, was mighty and imposing. It was rumored that the old immortal from Longhu Mountain had bestowed it upon him years ago, promising to return in twelve years to take him as a disciple. And now, he had arrived as promised.

In a courtyard within the estate, a Taoist patriarch of grandmaster status from Longhu Mountain stroked his snow-white beard, his brows furrowed. He carried an unusual small peach-wood sword shaped like Zhong Kui. This, combined with his appearance, truly made him seem otherworldly; anyone who saw him would sincerely praise him as a transcendent master.

However, this attempt to take a disciple was clearly encountering significant obstacles. It wasn't that the Prince's Estate had any objections; rather, his future disciple's stubbornness had surfaced. The young prince was squatting under a pear tree, pointedly turning his back on this "convenient master," who, in terms of status, ranked among the top three in the world's Taoist traditions – and, *cough*, surely among the top thirty in martial arts.

Even the esteemed Grand Marshal, Prince of Northern Liang, had to squat there, speaking gently and persuasively, his coaxing laced with cajolery: "Son, go to Longhu Mountain and learn some skills. If anyone ever dares to call you foolish again, you can beat them up. Even if you beat civil or military officials below the third rank to death, don't be afraid; your father will support you."

"My son," he continued, "you possess immense strength; it would be a true pity if you didn't learn martial arts and become one of the top ten masters in the world. When you return, I'll make you a Senior Cavalry Commander. Riding a dappled horse, clad in heavy armor – how magnificent that would be!"

The young prince completely ignored him, staring intently at the ground, utterly fascinated.

"Huang Man'er," the Prince tried another tack, "don't you like candied hawthorn skewers? Longhu Mountain is covered in wild hawthorn berries; you can pick and eat as many as you like. Right, Master Zhao?"

The old immortal forced a smile, nodding repeatedly in agreement. To have to beg a disciple to this extent was truly embarrassing; if word got out, he would be the laughingstock of the world.

But even though the esteemed Grand Marshal, holding a super-first-rank official position and whose word carried ultimate authority in twelve prefectures, had talked himself hoarse, the young prince remained unresponsive. Presumably impatient and annoyed by his father's garrulousness, he lifted his backside and let out a loud fart, not forgetting to turn his head and grin at his father.

The Prince of Northern Liang was so angered that he raised his hand as if to strike, but after holding it there for a moment, he gave up. Firstly, he couldn't bear to strike his son; secondly, it would be pointless.

This son truly lived up to his name, Xu Longxiang, derived from the phrase: "Among aquatic creatures, the dragon possesses the greatest strength; among terrestrial creatures, the elephant is foremost in might. Mighty as a Vajra, this is called 'Dragon-Elephant'." Although his foolish son, nicknamed Huang Man'er, appeared simple and clumsy, couldn't even recognize basic characters, had sickly sallow skin, and was physically weaker than his peers, his strength, however, was terrifyingly immense.

Xu Xiao had joined the army and taken lives at the age of ten, fighting Huns in Jinzhou to the northeast, annihilating six large and small states and over seventy cities in the south, and suppressing sixteen barbarian tribes in the southwest. He had encountered all kinds of astonishingly powerful generals, but he had never seen anyone with the natural copper sinews and iron bones, capable of uprooting mountains and rivers, like his youngest son.

Xu Xiao sighed softly to himself. If only Huang Man'er could be a little more intelligent, if his mind were just a bit more open, he would surely become an unparalleled fierce general, foremost in breaking enemy lines.

He slowly stood up and turned, offering an awkward smile to the highly senior Taoist from Longhu Mountain. The latter indicated with his eyes that it was fine, but couldn't help but feel a touch of sorrow in his heart. To have to take a disciple to this extent was truly unbecoming; once word got out, he would surely be ridiculed by everyone. He could forget about showing his old face to his numerous disciples and grand-disciples at Longhu Mountain.

The helpless Prince of Northern Liang then had an idea. He chuckled, "Huang Man'er, your brother should be entering the city around now, returning from his travels. Don't you want to go out and see him?"

The young prince suddenly looked up. His expression, usually unchangingly dull and stiff, but his normally wooden, vacant eyes burst forth with a rare, striking brilliance. He grabbed his father's hand and rushed outside.

Unfortunately, the Prince of Northern Liang's Estate was famously known for its winding corridors and countless twisting paths; otherwise, it wouldn't have been able to accommodate the "Tingchao Pavilion," which was much criticized by upright court officials and literati. Xu Xiao, whose hand was clutched painfully by his son, had to repeatedly point out they were going the wrong way. It took them a full incense stick's worth of time to finally reach outside the estate.

Behind the father, son, and old immortal, followed a group of servants carrying boxes of various sizes, all items prepared to be taken to Longhu Mountain. The Prince of Northern Liang was wealthy enough to rival a nation and had always doted on his children, unable to bear them suffering even the slightest hardship or grievance.

Outside the estate, the young prince saw the empty street, with no sign of his brother. He was first disappointed, then angry, letting out a deep, hoarse, and violent roar. At first, he wanted to vent his anger on Xu Xiao, but despite his clumsiness, he at least recognized that this was his father. Otherwise, Xu Xiao's fate might have been similar to that of the black bear that unluckily encountered Xu Longxiang during a recent autumn hunt, being torn in half by the twelve-year-old boy. He glared angrily at his sheepish father, then turned and walked away.

Xu Xiao, not wanting his efforts to be in vain, helplessly shot a glance at the old immortal. The True Master from Longhu Mountain smiled slightly and extended an arm like a withered bamboo, with just two fingers gently touching the young prince's wrist. He said softly and kindly, "Xu Longxiang, do not waste your once-in-a-century extraordinary talent. Come with me to Longhu Mountain; in ten years at most, you can descend the mountain to achieve merit and virtue."

The young prince said nothing more, grunted, and continued walking. But strangely and mysteriously, he found he couldn't break free from the old Taoist's seemingly effortless hold; the step he had taken, suspended in mid-air, simply wouldn't land.

The Prince of Northern Liang felt a sense of relief. This venerable Taoist, whose seniority in the lineage was incredibly high, truly possessed some skill. No one knew a son better than his father; Xu Xiao was well aware of his youngest son's immense, domineering strength. So much so that he dared not assign many servants or maids to him, fearing an accidental squeeze might break their arms or legs. Countless tables and chairs in the courtyard had been broken or shattered over the years. It was fortunate that the Prince of Northern Liang's Estate had deep pockets; any ordinary prosperous family would have long gone bankrupt.

The young prince froze for a moment, then became furious. With a soft shout, he forcefully dragged the old immortal forward one step, then two, then three. The True Master, wearing a yellow Taoist crown and robe, merely let out a soft "hmm" of surprise. Instead of anger, his face showed delight as he quietly increased his strength, stopping the young prince from advancing further.

At this point, Xu Longxiang was truly enraged. His face contorted like a wild beast. He extended his free hand, gripping the old Taoist's arm with both hands. His feet sank, *crack*, leaving two depressions in the white jade floor. With a powerful swing, he flung the old Taoist clear away.

Grand Marshal Xu Xiao narrowed his eyes, not fearing in the slightest that a death might result. If the Taoist lacked the capability, then death by falling was his own problem. Xu Xiao had even flattened the arrogant Western Chu Dynasty with his Liangzhou Iron Cavalry; when had he ever shown the slightest reverence for martial sects? So what if Longhu Mountain was the leader of the world's Taoist traditions? Several major sects within his territory, though not comparable to Longhu Mountain, were still first-rate within the dynasty. For instance, Wudang Mountain, which had contended with Longhu Mountain for Taoist orthodoxy for centuries and was surely considered transcendent in the martial world, still proactively sent three or four furnaces of rare elixirs every year, didn't they?

The old Taoist floated lightly onto a two-person tall Han white jade stone lion at the entrance of the Prince's Estate, exuding a powerful immortal aura. With just this move, if performed in the marketplace, it would surely earn a thunderous round of applause.

According to the popular saying of the Prince of Northern Liang's Heir, Xu Xiao's eldest legitimate son, this feat would be "deserving of a reward, this task is not simple, it's a skilled job." Hundreds or thousands of silver notes might have been given out as rewards. In those days, before His Royal Highness the Heir left Northern Liang to "harm" others, countless courtesans and martial world swindlers received his generous patronage.

The highest record was set by a wandering swordsman from out of town who, after a disagreement, fought a local swordsman. Their fight began at a street-side vegetable stall, moved to the lakeside, and finally ended on the rooftop of Liangzhou's largest brothel, Yaoyizi Yixiang Tower. This woke up the Heir, who was indulging in daytime debauchery. He immediately disregarded the young courtesan, whose skin was as fair as mutton-fat jade, and loudly cheered from the window. Afterwards, with the Heir's intervention, the authorities not only didn't pursue charges but almost presented the swordsman with a grand commendation plaque as a "Good Man of Liangzhou." Furthermore, he had his servants quickly deliver a stack of one hundred thousand silver notes to him.

The prosperous Lingzhou, without its Heir who enjoyed falconry and dog fighting, was truly lonely. Young ladies from respectable families finally dared to go out beautifully dressed to buy rouge. Second-rate fops finally no longer had a bully competing with them to harass men and women. And brothels, big and small, no longer awaited the chief playboy's extravagant spending.

Prince Xu Xiao of Northern Liang had two daughters and two sons, all of whom were eccentric.

The eldest princess married and successively "vanquished" three husbands, becoming the most beautiful and wealthiest widow in the dynasty. Her scandalous reputation spread far and wide across the five prefectures of Jiangnan Road, known for her dissolute lifestyle.

The second princess, though of ordinary appearance, was widely learned, talented, and skilled in strategy and grand schemes. She studied under Master Han Guzi of Shangyin Academy, becoming the junior fellow apprentice of imperial luminaries such as the military strategist Xu Huang and the political strategist Sima Can.

Xu Longxiang was the Prince of Northern Liang's youngest son, relatively unknown, while his eldest son was infamous even in the capital. Whenever Grand Marshal Xu Xiao was mentioned, his Heir, Xu Fengnian, would invariably be brought up with the "praise" of "like father, like son." Unfortunately, while Xu Xiao was brave on the battlefield, his son excelled at extravagant indulgence and squandering wealth.

Three years ago, it was rumored that His Royal Highness the Heir, Xu Fengnian, was driven out of the Prince's Estate with swords and blades at his neck, forced to undertake the customary travels for young noble heirs from Guanzhong before their coming-of-age ceremony. Three years passed in a flash, and he completely disappeared without a trace. Lingzhou still remembered the touching scene when His Royal Highness left the city: a dozen prominent fops and dozens of courtesans, big and small, with tears in their eyes on the city wall. However, insiders revealed that after His Royal Highness had gone far away, the Red Sparrow Tower hosted an all-night banquet that very day, with so much fine wine poured into the river that the entire city could smell the aroma of alcohol.

Back at the Prince's Estate, the simple-minded young prince ran towards the jade lion. It seemed that merely throwing an old man wasn't satisfying enough; this time, he intended to throw out the irritating old Taoist along with the lion, which supposedly weighed a thousand *jun*.

Just as he began to shake the lion, the old Taoist from Longhu Mountain floated down. He took one of the young prince's hands and, using his true skill with an obscure Taoist "Mountain Moving" technique, subtly pulled and lifted the squatting young prince to his feet, chuckling softly, "Huang Man'er, stop making a fuss. Come with your master."

The young prince gripped the corner of the lion's base with one hand, his fingers like hooks, digging into the jade, refusing to let go. His arms stretched like an ape's as he cried out hoarsely, "I want to wait for my brother to come back! Brother said he'd bring me the most beautiful woman in the world to be my wife! I want to wait for him!"

Grand Marshal Xu Xiao, a man of the highest authority, was between laughter and tears, utterly helpless. He looked at the old Taoist in the yellow crown and sighed heavily, "Fine, let's wait a bit longer. He'll be here soon anyway."

Hearing this, the old Taoist's smile became strange, but he still released the young prince's arm. He clicked his tongue in amazement, thinking, "This little fellow isn't just naturally strong; he's practically the Venus star incarnate!"

"But is that little rascal Xu Fengnian really coming back? This isn't good news." He recalled how he had suffered greatly when he first visited the Prince's Estate back then. Not only was he first mistaken for a con artist trying to freeload, but that seven or eight-year-old brat directly unleashed a pack of fierce dogs to bite him. After finally managing to explain himself and enter the residence, the little scoundrel played another trick: he sent two delicate, beautiful young women to knock on his door in the middle of the night, claiming it was cold and they needed to warm his quilt. If not for his extraordinary composure and detachment, he truly would have fallen for it. Now, when he occasionally thought back, he regretted not having chatted with the two young women all night about the *Great Cavern Scripture* and the *Yellow Court Scripture*. Even if not those, then perhaps the *Plain Girl's Classic*.

In the twilight, the long shadows of an old man and a young man stretched across the official road. The old man carried a long, cloth-wrapped bundle, dressed in rags, his white hair interspersed with strands of straw, looking as though he could squat on the ground with a broken bowl and beg. He led a scrawny, lame horse. The younger man was actually not young, with a stubbled face and coarse commoner's clothes, resembling a refugee fleeing famine.

"Old Huang, just a bit longer," the young man, whose true age was indiscernible, spoke weakly. "Once we're in the city and home, there'll be large chunks of meat and big bowls of wine. Damn it, I never thought wine and meat were anything special before, but now, just thinking about them makes my mouth water uncontrollably; I dream about them every night."

The disheveled old man, who looked like a servant, chuckled, revealing a set of yellow teeth with missing front ones, making him seem incredibly simple and comical.

"Laugh your head off, old man," the young man said, rolling his eyes. "I can't even cry anymore." He truly didn't have the energy left to complain.

On their two-thousand-li journey home, they were just short of resorting to begging along the way. Along the way, they had fished in rivers, played hide-and-seek with rabbits in the mountains, and climbed trees to raid bird nests. As long as it was meat, cooked, and regardless of whether it had salt, it was the most delicious meal in the world. During this time, passing through villages, they tried to steal chickens or ducks several times, and were chased for dozens of *li* by strong men wielding hoes and sticks, almost dying from exhaustion.

Which pampered young master didn't appear magnificent, dressed in fine clothes and riding a spirited horse?

Now look at himself: a tattered hemp robe, a pair of straw sandals, and a single lame horse. He couldn't even bear to slaughter it for meat, or even ride it. Instead, he had an extra mouth to feed.

As for vicious servants, there were none. He worried just looking at Old Huang's small body, having lived for sixty years, fearing that on their two-thousand-li journey, he might one day silently kick the bucket. Then he wouldn't even have someone to talk to, and would have to exert himself digging a grave in the wilderness.

Before entering the city, not far outside the city wall, there was a stall selling Apricot Blossom Wine. He was truly exhausted. Smelling the wine, he closed his eyes, sniffed, and showed a look of utter rapture, thinking, "Damn, that's fragrant." With a sudden resolve, he walked over, found the only empty stool, and plonked himself down. Gritting his teeth, he used his last bit of strength to shout, "Waiter, bring wine!"

The other customers resting on their way out of or into the city all disdained this shabbily dressed master and servant, deliberately sitting further away.

The busy waiter, hearing the shout, was about to reply with a cheerful "Coming right up!" but upon seeing the master and servant's attire, his face immediately fell. These two customers didn't look like they could afford the wine. The waiter was still decent; he didn't immediately shoo them away. He simply offered a strained, insincere smile and reminded them, "Our signature Apricot Blossom Wine costs twenty cash per pot. It's not expensive, but it's not cheap either."

If this were in the past, treated with such snobbery, the young man would have long since unleashed his dogs and vicious servants. But three years of the harsh realities of the world and getting used to penniless days had tempered his arrogance and temper considerably. Breathing heavily, he said, "It's fine. Someone will naturally come to settle the bill. You won't miss out on your tip money."

"Tip?" the waiter shouted, his face full of scorn.

The young man gave a wry smile, placing his thumb and forefinger to his mouth. He used his last bit of strength to blow a whistle, then collapsed onto the simple wine table, snoring, having fallen asleep. The waiter found it utterly baffling, though only those with sharp eyes faintly glimpsed a shadow flashing overhead.

A hawk-like bird of prey streaked over the city wall like an arrow.

In about the time it took for a customer to finish a bowl of Apricot Blossom Wine, the ground began to rumble without warning. The wine tables shook, and customers stared wide-eyed as their drinks swayed with the wooden tables. They carefully picked up their bowls and looked around.

From the city gate, a group of iron cavalry surged out, forming two black lines that seemed endless. Amidst the dust, tall, large horses and heavily armored elite cavalry, renowned throughout the world as capable of fighting a hundred men each, from Northern Liang, rode forth. The royal banner held by the leading general, bright as blood, bore a single character: "Xu"!

Goodness, it was the direct lineage army of the Prince of Northern Liang.

In this world, who could contend with the Northern Liang Iron Cavalry, who had galloped across thirteen provinces, north and south of the dynasty?

In the past, the Western Chu Dynasty believed its 120,000 halberdiers dared to defy their might. But what was the result? In the Battle of Jinghe, their entire army was annihilated, and all surrendered soldiers were buried alive, their wails like thunder.

Two hundred elite iron cavalry charged forth, grand and mighty, their momentum like a rainbow.

Overhead, a hawk-like bird, full of spiritual energy, seemed to be leading the way.

The two hundred iron cavalry instantly halted, their movements perfectly synchronized. This level of precision far exceeded that of ordinary battle-hardened soldiers or veterans of a hundred wars.

The fourth-rank military officer, the Deputy Commander of the Agile Cavalry, dismounted. At a glance, he saw the old servant holding the horse, immediately galloped to the front of the tavern, knelt, and respectfully said, "Your humble general Qi Dangguo pays respects to His Royal Highness the Heir!"

Meanwhile, the shabby young man who had boastfully offered a tip merely mumbled in his sleep, "Waiter, bring wine."