Chapter 118: Sauerkraut and Eleven

A man in green robes arrived from the southwest, carrying a thin bamboo pole on his shoulder. After a while, he took the pole down to prod the reeds, muttering a folk song with a strong local flavor: "I patrol the mountains for the king," and "When I see a girl, I'll take her to the stronghold." He hummed these lines repeatedly, even jumping twice, but seeing nothing of what he wished to see, he grew bored. He re-shouldered the bamboo pole and asked without turning his head, "Li Chungang's sword on the river—do you think I could block it head-on?"

Receiving no reply, he wasn't discouraged. He continued to speak to himself, "At the time, I thought the old Sword God had established himself after breaking through, stepping into the realm of Earthly Immortals in one go. Only after the martial arts ranking was released did I realize it was just a coincidence of timing, geography, and human factors—a lucky stroke, nothing extraordinary. When you and I left the Sword Mound, with one strike from me and one from you, we both touched the threshold of Sword Immortals. This time, fighting the old senior again, what do you say are the chances of winning?"

Behind the green-robed swordsman, who carried only a bamboo pole and no actual sword, there was still a profound silence, or rather, only the boundless sighing of wind through reeds. The sounds reminded him of how this lean man in green robes had once overturned a large ship at the Gates of Hell with a single pole, his small boat coming and going with effortless grace. In the well-informed martial arts world, this event was already a much-discussed topic. The old Sword God had just reappeared, and the Wu Family's Sword Master had gracefully gone to challenge him—a spectacle promising immense hype, having recently earned countless pounds of spit from martial artists. However, while lower-tier martial artists and outlaws were merely amazed by this swordsman's invincible journey south, those with keen interest were already inquiring who was worthy of being Wu Liuding's sword attendant. Yet, the Wu Family's Sword Mound was a peculiar and impenetrable place, yielding no definite answers. It was only vaguely known that this generation's close sword attendant to Sword Master Wu Liuding was even more outstanding than the previous generation's sword attendants. Their unwavering loyalty to their master was unquestionable, destined to serve only one master for life. All sword attendants were chosen from a young age by older, withered swordsmen based on their talent, designated to serve the direct descendants of the Wu family. They grew up together, practicing, comprehending, and choosing swords together. Each generation of the Sword Mound had dozens of sword master-attendant pairs, but only a swordsman who became Sword Master could represent the Wu Family Sword Mound in the martial world. The Sword Master's strength was beyond doubt. The sword attendants, naturally shrouded in a sense of tragedy, were intriguing, especially considering that this tomb, where countless sword geniuses were buried, traditionally had sword attendants whose strength surpassed their masters. Who knew what domineering sword art the mysterious sword attendant beside Wu Liuding practiced? Therefore, those potential forces who disliked the Sword Mound's self-proclaimed dominance and supremacy, unless absolutely certain of success, had to carefully weigh their options and dared not easily challenge its edge.

The Sword Master practices the kingly sword art, while the sword attendant cultivates the domineering sword art—this is a written rule carved by the Sword Mound ancestors on their sword steles. When it comes to lethal sword techniques, there are no swordsmen in the world more formidable than the Wu Family's sword attendants.

Wu Liuding in green robes sighed emotionally, "We truly are a perfect match. When I was little, I stubbornly refused to learn 'outer king, inner sage' from my grandfather. I always felt that with the ancestor's talent, he only earned the title of 'Plain King' and couldn't be called king in our family's sword dao. So why should I learn the kingly sword art? It would be more impressive to practice the worldly domineering sword art like my aunt. As for you, by chance, you were taught the kingly sword art from a young age. Even Grandfather's 'Plain King' sword was retrieved by you from the Sword Mountain for me. I practice worldly swordsmanship to engage with the world, but your other-worldly sword must accompany me into it. I've put you through trouble. King Jing'an said Aunt's Great Liang Dragon Sparrow is in that person's hands. I don't care about those court intrigues, but that sword, no matter what, I will get it for you."

Finally, a slender figure appeared behind Wu Liuding, carrying a long sword that, though unsheathed, exuded a chilling sword aura. Like Wu Liuding, she wore scholarly green robes. Her face was plain but remarkably angular, and in her brows was a fierce, martial spirit.

The ancient sword "Plain King," ranked second among all renowned swords under heaven, outshone the 160,000 swords buried in the Sword Mound throughout its history.

The sword-carrying woman, who presumably wasn't blind, always walked with her eyes closed. A gentle breeze caressed her face, causing her hair, loosely tied into a ponytail with a red string, to flutter freely.

Wu Liuding, carrying the bamboo pole, turned around and said playfully, "Cuihua, why do I like you, even knowing you're not particularly pretty?"

The young woman, carrying her sword and walking slowly with closed eyes, answered earnestly, "Perhaps it's because you like eating the pickled vegetables I make, and you're afraid of not having them, that's why you like me."

Since childhood, she was known in the Wu Family Sword Mound for being inarticulate. Beyond practicing sword, her only other interest was making pickled vegetables. Wu Liuding had been very fond of them since he was young, and unfortunately, his craving lasted for so many years. She came from a poor background; before being brought into the Wu Family Sword Mound, she was a girl from a rural family. Perhaps only the taste of pickled vegetables remained from her past memories. When she entered this sacred place in the hearts of swordsmen everywhere, she began to attempt making pickled vegetables. As for whether the taste was good or bad, without comparison, there was naturally no answer. In any case, Wu Liuding, who grew up with her like childhood sweethearts—or more accurately, grew up with her and her sword—never tired of eating them. Her rigid answer might sound absurd to outsiders, but Wu Liuding listened attentively and pondered the question quite seriously. Cuihua's pickled vegetables, he thought, is there anything more delicious in the world? Moreover, when Cuihua wasn't talking about swords but seriously making pickled vegetables, her not-so-pretty appearance always seemed a bit prettier.

"Cuihua, if I die by Li Chungang's hand today, then every Qingming festival, don't offer wine. I don't like drinking much. Just make a large basin of pickled vegetables."

"Okay." A sword attendant serving their master has no rule about avenging them. They are not allowed to help in battle when facing an enemy; their only custom is to bury the sword and guard the tomb. The Wu family ancestor established this iron rule back then, fearing that future generations might rely on others and thereby hinder their pure sword heart's solitary pursuit of the dao.

"Cuihua, can pickled vegetables only be made with cabbage?"

"I only know how to pickle cabbage."

"Let's try a different flavor, we've arrived in the south," Wu Liuding said, drooling with anticipation.

"Shouldn't you be thinking about how to counter Li Chungang's 'Two Sleeves of Green Snakes'?" the leader of this generation's sword attendants from the Sword Mound asked softly with a frown.

It was indeed a bit unseemly. Not to mention that it was a critical moment before a major battle, even during ordinary times, a Wu Family Sword Master and a sword attendant probably shouldn't be discussing pickled cabbage. They should at least discuss profound and insightful sword dao insights, speaking words that would make swordsmen across the world bow in respect.

"Thinking about surviving to eat pickled vegetables gives me more fighting spirit," Wu Liuding chuckled softly, his hands resting on the bamboo pole as he squinted towards the end of the reed path. "And I don't need to wonder if I'll feel guilty using the Plain King sword. Whether it's Li Chungang's 'Two Sleeves of Green Snakes' or Deng Tai'a's 'Peach Blossom Branch,' regardless of sword technique or sword intent, they are all within the realm of the sword dao. There truly is no place in the world that understands the sword better than the Wu family."

A stout man with a bundle of golden soft swords wrapped around his waist was directly opposite Wu Liuding, walking from the northeast towards the center. This dark-skinned man, like a rural farmer, had a dull expression, his head slightly lowered. There was a bulge in his arms, seemingly a wooden box-shaped object.

It was precisely this item that brought him to Xiangfan City.

The ten-year grueling battle of Xiangfan back then held no right or wrong for him, a man dedicated to martial arts. Even if Wang Mingyang died at Diaoyutai, he wouldn't bother disputing with the Butcher Xu Xiao. It wasn't that he hadn't tried to persuade Wang Mingyang to leave Xiangfan; he had even personally told him that even if he won the city defense, the southeast half of the empire would collapse—what could one person do? But that person didn't listen. In the end, the 200,000 lives of Xiangfan were used to uphold one person's reputation. How was such a cruel and violent act different from that of the opposing Butcher? Was it more moral? He heard of this tragic outcome while he was in Beiliang and did not go to Beiliang to seek revenge. He only said one sentence: "No member of the Xu family is allowed to enter Xiangfan again."

He kept his word.

Moreover, King Jing'an Zhao Heng had even handed him the box containing Wang Mingyang's eyeballs. He was merely a martial artist and didn't want to get involved in the grudges between the two feudal kings. But since the King of Beiliang's son dared to come to Xiangfan, he had to fulfill his promise from that year.

Because Wang Mingyang was his full brother.

The two maids stood on tiptoe for a long time before finally spotting the infamous Northern Liang Young Master. He wasn't comfortably staying inside a carriage; he rode in on horseback with an old Daoist priest with an ethereal air. They wondered in unison, wasn't His Highness the Young Master afraid of eating dust? Even with good horsemanship, it was still bumpy and uncomfortable; where was the comfort of sitting in a carriage? They scurried back to the Princess's carriage to announce the Young Master's arrival. Princess Pei slowly dismounted, one hand gripping the secret letter with only a few words, the other holding a "Satisfaction" prayer bead. Her expression was normal; she was still that elegant and distinguished noblewoman whose charm stood out even within the high walls of princely mansions. She stood gracefully by the carriage, watching that despicable, laughable, or pitiable young roué slowly approach. For some reason, her palms were sweating.

Xu Fengnian had already spotted the convoy at the edge of the reed marsh. While still some distance away, he asked softly with a solemn expression, "Grandpa Wei, are all the peach wood swords being used? Is it enough?"

The Old Daoist Wei Shuyang of Nine Dou Rice, who had been missing for two days, stroked his beard and smiled slightly. "Thirty-six peach wood swords. The sword formation is already prepared."

Xu Fengnian nodded, saying darkly, "Lu Qiu'er's letter said Wang Mingyang's brother from Xiangfan has also arrived. I don't understand why he didn't help during the ten-year siege of Xiangfan, yet he's coming to join the fun today. Has he had a change of heart?"

Wei Shuyang's expression instantly turned serious. He sighed and shook his head, "This old Daoist dares not speak rashly. I only know that this person's martial arts cultivation is extremely profound. Otherwise, he wouldn't have appeared on the martial arts ranking twice in a row, remaining the eleventh-best master under heaven for twenty consecutive years. Outsiders might find this title laughable, but this old Daoist can't laugh at all."

Xu Fengnian didn't hold the reins; his hands rested on his two sabers, Xiudong and Chunlei. He squinted at the two pretty maids protected by King Jing'an's guards. If the eleventh-ranked master, surnamed Wang, coming out of the city to "greet guests" was unexpected but understandable, then Princess Pei, who had already heard of her departure from the city on the road, was somewhat perplexing. Had King Jing'an Zhao Heng, this old turtle, gone mad? To place her, the Princess, in this reed marsh that could almost be called a death trap? Luring the enemy into a trap was understandable, but did it require such a heavy price? She was, after all, a legitimate princess, more charming than a jade maiden. Or had Zhao Heng gone insane for the sake of hereditary succession?

"Currently known are the eleventh-ranked master and four talisman armored warriors," Xu Fengnian muttered. "What other tricks does Zhao Heng have up his sleeve? Since he is willing to use Pei Nanwei as a disposable pawn, then it must be more than just 'politeness.' What then? Afterwards, will they say this Young Master conspired against King Jing'an's Princess who went out of the city for sightseeing? Deliberately followed her all the way and defiled the Princess? Then King Jing'an became furious for his beauty? Wouldn't this explanation be too childish and hasty? Furthermore, does Zhao Heng really have the confidence to kill me in one strike here? Or does this feudal king think he can't defeat Xu Xiao, but has a sure victory if he fights me?"

Xu Fengnian said softly to Wei Shuyang, "Have Ning Emei and the Phoenix Camp follow closely on horseback. There's no need to keep half a li's distance. And make it clear to him: prepare for a fight to the death."

The old Daoist Wei Shuyang immediately turned his horse and rode back.

Xu Fengnian could already clearly see the pretty faces of King Jing'an's two maids. He slowed down, rode alongside the carriage, reached out and tapped the carriage wall. Jiang Ni lifted the curtain, her face full of suspicion.

Xu Fengnian said, "Tell the old senior: Wang Mingyin, the eleventh-ranked master, is here, and the talisman armored warriors are here. There might also be powerful hidden masters secretly."

Jiang Ni replied with a blank expression, "Oh."

"Be careful, don't get off the carriage. Today is not suitable for you to watch a show." After saying this, Xu Fengnian then squeezed his horse's flanks and rode quickly forward, closely escorted by his three attendants: Lu Qiantang, Yang Qingfeng, and Shu Xiu. Yu Youwei had been arranged to ride in the same carriage as Jiang Ni and Li Chungang when they left the city.

After Xu Fengnian saw Princess Pei standing seemingly forlornly in front of the reed marsh, he didn't rush to dismount and be polite. His hands on his sabers, he merely sat high on his horse, silently looking down.

Although the two maids were surprised by the Northern Liang Young Master's handsomeness and dashing appearance, eager to protect their mistress, they saw him arrogantly sitting on his horse without saying a word. One of the maids, whose status rose with the Princess's presence and whose demeanor was no less than that of a typical mansion steward, glared and reprimanded, "Northern Liang Young Master, why don't you dismount when you see the Princess?"

Xu Fengnian merely smiled it off, only staring at the great beauty whose ranking on the "Rouge Score" was higher than Li Shuangjia of Xiangfan. He hadn't seen that famous courtesan, "White Jade Lion Rolling Embroidered Ball," but was sure that any man in the world, when choosing between Princess Pei Nanwei and Li Baishi, who excelled in both voice and beauty, would choose to spend time with Pei Nanwei, even if the latter was slightly prettier. A legitimate princess of the Six Feudal Kings of the Liyang Dynasty was not comparable to those concubines of fallen dynasties; perhaps only the empress of a fallen emperor could compete in terms of allure. Xu Fengnian hoped to see something in her eyes, but unfortunately there were no clues. It even seemed she didn't know she was in danger, and the one who cruelly set up the trap was precisely King Jing'an behind her, the man who was supposed to be her loving husband. Xu Fengnian grew more curious. He had no patience or inclination to exchange veiled words or riddles with the woman in front of him and directly asked, "You're not running?"

Princess Jing'an, looking up from below the horse, calmly retorted, "Where can I run to?"

Xu Fengnian smiled sarcastically, "It's good to hide, too."

Princess Pei smiled calmly, "King Jing'an wants to give you a letter. Young Master can rest assured, the letter isn't poisoned, because I've already read it."

Xu Fengnian merely extended Xiudong. The Princess was not angered by his audacious rudeness and placed the letter on the saber's blade.

After Xu Fengnian drew out the envelope and glanced at its contents, he chuckled, "Uncle King Jing'an means to send me to the Road to the Yellow Springs."

Pei Nanwei smiled, "Young Master, you have such deep schemes. For so many years, you were indeed pretending to be foolish for fools to see. If you had known this, why did you act as you did then?"

Xu Fengnian loosened his grip on the Xiudong saber, extended his right hand, and said with a grin, "Comfortable or not?"

Princess Pei, who had always maintained a dignified and graceful demeanor, her face flushed, bit her lip and said word by word in a low voice, "Xu Fengnian, you truly deserve to die."

Xu Fengnian remained on his horse, not looking at the enraged Princess Jing'an. He only looked towards the reed marsh and calmly said, "Princess, please rest assured. Before this Young Master dies, I won't forget to drag you along. On the Road to the Yellow Springs, I'll teach your small mouth how to play the flute properly. What Zhao Xun wants to do but dares not and cannot do, this Young Master can."