Chapter 152: I Will Paint the Dragon, You Dot Its Eye

Xu Fengnian entered the carriage, where only Xu Zhihu and Princess Jing'an remained. He sat down cross-legged, leaning against the carriage wall, his brows deeply furrowed.

Xu Zhihu felt a pang of sympathy and reached out to smooth her brother's furrowed brow.

Xu Fengnian managed a bitter smile.

Had Beiliang's delicate situation become so transparent that even Cao Changqing could see through it at a glance? Emperors, especially the founding emperors of dynasties, almost always reclaim the "knife" after using it to eliminate enemies, turning it against their former companions who once wielded it for them. Keeping dogs to guard against thieves is one thing, but once the thieves are gone, why waste food on the dogs? However, Beiliang is not a true dynasty. It's a partitioned territory, confined to one corner. Although Xu Xiao is often called the "Second Emperor," he still nominally has to show utmost respect to the imperial court in the capital. Allowing the "Butcher" Xu Xiao to wear his saber in court was an act of immense imperial grace, meant to signal to the restless Northern Mang that the court wouldn't foolishly undermine its own long-standing foundation. Xu Xiao is indeed a formidable figure, but not the kind of ruthless leader who discards subordinates once their usefulness is over, like a "cooked dog after the cunning rabbit is caught." He is certainly not ungrateful or unjust towards Beiliang's old generals. On the contrary, Xu Fengnian knew better than anyone that Xu Xiao had spent considerable effort and mental energy over the years appeasing and caring for the descendants of his old troops. The court, seemingly content with this, struck a balance in its control – not pushing this "vassal king" to rebellion, but also not letting Xu Xiao truly relax. Yan Jiexie, who defected from Beiliang, was a typical example. Whether by design or accident, the white-clad general Chen Zhibao had amassed great power and built his own faction. While it might not be an exaggeration to say he had "generals like clouds and strategists like rain," it wasn't far off. Furthermore, the saying that "one Chen Zhibao could defeat half of Western Chu" was personally uttered by the late emperor in the Hall of Preserving Harmony, in front of Xu Xiao and all the civil and military officials, before his death.

Chen Zhibao was widely recognized as a master of national warfare, unparalleled in deploying forces exceeding 100,000. It was said he remembered the name of every commander and their strengths and weaknesses in battle. Though opportunities were fleeting, Chen Zhibao always managed to devise brilliant troop formations. During the Battle of West Leibi, he fought intensely for three days and nights without rest. Behind him, eighteen flag-bearers, in six shifts, continuously relayed his commands, while military historians, documenting the battle, broke no fewer than ten brushes. From start to finish, Chen Zhibao, in his white robes, remained perfectly still. With his countless, ultra-precise orders, he utterly annihilated Western Chu's last hundreds of thousands of young, able-bodied men. Legend has it that the current emperor, upon reading the records, reread them repeatedly, marking countless brilliant passages and emphatically inscribing eight characters at the end: "Truly captivating, a worthy War Immortal." In the past two years, Xu Fengnian had often wondered if Beiliang's situation would have been simpler had Chen Zhibao, whose fame and prestige rivaled that of another white-robed figure from earlier times, agreed to the emperor's request to go to the Southern Border. Xu Xiao had never mentioned his adopted son, Chen Zhibao, in all these years, and even as the Crown Prince, Xu Fengnian did not know Xu Xiao's true thoughts. To suggest that Xu Xiao kept Chen Zhibao as a "whetstone" would contradict the imperial strategy of eliminating meritorious elders to pave the way for a successor. With Chen Zhibao, the "white-robed War Immortal," having grown so powerful, he had become uncontrollable. Was Xu Xiao truly unafraid that Xu Fengnian might lose to Chen Zhibao? After decades of putting his life on the line in military campaigns, would he ultimately lose everything? As long as Chen Zhibao remained a cold and watchful presence in Beiliang, how could Xu Fengnian truly live without restraint?

Xu Zhihu watched her thoughtful brother silently. Then, with a start of belated realization, she exclaimed, "That Cao Changqing, with the surname Cao, and who makes the Old Sword God so nervous, he wouldn't happen to be Cao Guanzi, would he?"

Snapping back to reality, Xu Fengnian said with resignation, "Unfortunately, you've hit the nail on the head. He is indeed the Grand Chess Master who, when bored, goes to the imperial palace to play hide-and-seek with Han Renmao."

Princess Jing'an was not foolish. Jiang Ni's surname was Jiang, and though nominally a maid, she never acted like one in the Crown Prince's presence. Pei Nanwei sneered, "Concealing a princess from a fallen dynasty is one thing, but to have former Western Chu officials come knocking at your door? How will Your Highness explain this to the capital? If the scholars of Jiangnan found out and sensationalized it, incurring the Emperor's wrath, wouldn't Your Highness, who arrived so triumphantly, leave utterly disgraced?"

Xu Fengnian, whose mood was already at rock bottom, retorted sharply, "It's not your place to secretly gloat. If I, the Crown Prince, am at peace, your life will be more comfortable. If I am not, how well do you think you'll fare? Given your temperament, for you to become the official Princess of Jing'an, Zhao Heng must truly have been blind. And with Zhao Xun coveting your body, what a misfortune for that family! I saved you from dire straits, and it's bad enough you're not grateful, but you dare to gloat here? Have you forgotten the taste of my Embroidered Winter scabbard hitting your face?"

Pei Nanwei merely sneered.

Xu Zhihu sighed, "The Old Sword God mentioned Cao Guanzi's name in the tea room. Given Xu Huipu's meticulousness, she's bound to tell the old enshrined masters. When that happens, Cao Changqing and Jiang Ni's true identities will be fully revealed, and this matter will indeed be troublesome."

Xu Fengnian pondered for a moment, then chuckled, "It's troublesome, but not a major issue. Those old foxes among the Jiangnan scholars, though cunning and prone to fishing in troubled waters, aren't necessarily eager to openly break with Beiliang. What good would it do them to incur Xu Xiao's mortal enmity? Brutes use blades, literati use words. Our paths don't cross unless absolutely necessary; it won't escalate into a brutal war of words. It works out well – I killed a few insignificant low-level scholars, and now Cao Guanzi has come to stir things up. It's like handing a handle to those old family patriarchs. This way, they'll feel appeased and won't lose face. If nothing unexpected happens, before I leave Yangchun City, someone will come to 'remind' me, likely with some boring platitude like, 'Your Highness, killing people is wrong. We in Yang Prefecture have caught your little mistake this time, but it's alright, we'll let bygones be bygones and turn a blind eye. So, Your Highness, perhaps you should rein in your behavior and stop causing trouble, as it's not good for anyone.' Ha-ha, Sister, tell me, isn't this 'repaying evil with good' and the 'romanticism of a refined scholar'?"

Xu Zhihu listened to her brother mimic the old scholar's tone, nodding vigorously, and couldn't help but burst into laughter.

Princess Jing'an murmured in disbelief, "Are national affairs really such a game?"

Xu Fengnian sneered, "A game? How is this a game? Do you truly believe that the foundation of powerful aristocratic families lies in imperial favor? That they must wag their tails and beg for mercy from the monarch? Are national affairs comparable to family matters? If that were truly the case, wouldn't the princesses of various states who couldn't marry into great clans, and the imperial princes who couldn't marry into prestigious families, have suffered humiliation in vain for centuries?"

Xu Fengnian tapped his head against the carriage wall, lightly flicked the Embroidered Winter saber on his lap, and squinted with a smile, "Only twenty years have passed. A centipede, even dead, doesn't stiffen. In the future, it might be hard to say. I must admit, Xu Xiao is truly fierce! He effortlessly chopped down ten deeply entrenched families who recognized only their own clans, not the emperor. Among the emperors who died by Xu Xiao's hand, perhaps one or two were clever enough to smile even in death. How could our Emperor tolerate so many 'pits and potholes' from the four great families of Yang Prefecture within the flat expanse of his domain? Granting princely titles and territories, and stationing them in all directions, is a strategy to slowly pare away these stubborn 'skin diseases' with a dull knife. This approach has its pros and cons, but stepping back, even if these powerful vassal kings desire the imperial throne, regardless of victory or defeat, don't they all still bear the surname Zhao? Isn't the empire still the Zhao family's? In truth, during the Spring and Autumn Period wars, the most devastating losers were those arrogant families like yours, Princess Pei. The current scholars are loudly clamoring and slandering, but Xu Xiao isn't afraid precisely because he has accurately gauged the Emperor's thoughts. My daring to kill people in Yang Prefecture operates on the same principle. Princess Pei, how about we make a wager? The Jiangnan scholars, in league with the Imperial College students, are currently impeaching me, the Crown Prince, for disregarding national laws and committing wrongdoing. Let's bet on who the Emperor will punish first?"

Princess Jing'an nodded, "Fine! I refuse to believe the Emperor won't even give you a verbal reprimand!"

Xu Fengnian struck while the iron was hot, saying, "You decide the stakes."

Pei Nanwei was also decisive, stating firmly, "Agreed."

Xu Zhihu didn't mind such petty squabbles; her brother was quite adept at handling women. She shifted closer to the Crown Prince and asked, "Is Cao Changqing's martial arts truly as extraordinary as people claim?"

Xu Fengnian let out a long breath, chuckling softly, "He's unbelievably powerful, staggeringly formidable."

Xu Zhihu whispered, "What about Jiang Ni?"

Xu Fengnian remained silent.

He could confidently wager with Pei Nanwei, even subtly manipulating the stakes, knowing that the proud Princess Jing'an was no shrewd businesswoman. If she lost to him, her profit would far exceed any stake he himself proposed. But against Cao Guanzi, whom he couldn't defeat, outwit, or even out-strategize, he was utterly helpless. Once martial arts reached their pinnacle, one naturally gained the right to look down on all others. When Cao Changqing first entered the Imperial City, he moved as if through an uninhabited land, his pronouncements supremely domineering: "Slaying Zhao is my lifelong ambition; laugh not at a scholar's graying hair. What if Chu has but three households left? I enter the imperial palace as if crossing a corridor." Against such an enlightened master, who would risk his life as if possessed, not only Xu Fengnian but almost no one could prevail. Unless a 'land immortal' like Qi Xuanzhen appeared, even Wang Xianzhi might not be able to stop what Cao Qingyi was determined to do, even at the cost of his life. That confrontation, facing an opponent on a pavilion while he was below, didn't necessarily mean Cao Changqing could definitively defeat the Old Sword God. It simply meant that for Cao Qizhao, who would never forget Western Chu in this life, once he made up his mind, all the gods and buddhas in the sky could be ignored. Back then, with thousands of armored imperial guards in front of him, he still cut his way through. When Wang Xianzhi was on the rooftop, he ascended the tower in one go. Today, with Li Chungang in front of him, he naturally walked forward. Cao Qingyi's magnificent righteousness and Li Chungang's sword intent, though different paths, ultimately led to the same destination.

Should he release Jiang Ni?

Xu Fengnian did not give an answer even after arriving at the Xieyi Garden in Duke Lu's residence. Cao Changqing did not enter the residence, seemingly not in a hurry to deliberately pressure the Crown Prince. Xu Fengnian began to understand the mindset of the two emperors of the dynasty: when there's such a scholar appearing unexpectedly within Tai'an City, right beside the emperor's couch, there's an inexplicable sense of suffocation. Cao Changqing's three visits to the capital and three entries into the palace were all meant to convey to the Zhao emperors of the Liyang Dynasty that while the entire realm was theirs, they might not be able to enjoy it in peace. Throughout the afternoon, the Crown Prince, his expression unchanged, stayed in Xieyi Garden chatting with his elder sister, Xu Zhihu. Xu Fengnian spoke to her about the "white fox-faced" man on the third floor, about the Tantric Female Dharma King he met outside Xiangfan City, about Wen Hua, the wooden sword user he unexpectedly reunited with in the city only to part ways again, and further spoke of the plum blossom girl who grew up in the temple, and the cheerful young girl Wang Dongxiang, and the great turtle on Spring God Lake. He only briefly touched upon the hardships of practicing with a saber.

At noon, after the Crown Prince left Baoguo Temple, the impoverished scholar and the little beggar also stepped through the threshold. The debate on kingship and hegemony resumed in the meditation room. The opportune timing, favorable geography, and harmonious human relations were all on Yuan Honghu's side, and this time, Chen Liangxi had truly lost. Yet, Chen Liangxi, who had studied diligently in poverty, was not discouraged. Yuan Jiangyan's reputation as the foremost debater in Jiangzuo was well-deserved, not merely for show. The scholars of Jiangnan had three passions: keeping courtesans, cultivating renown, and building momentum. Those who reached the pinnacle of these pursuits were largely Yuan Jiangyan and the few others who could stand alongside Master Honghu in status. Abbot Yin Daolin, living up to his nickname "Unmoving Monk," remained silent throughout. But when Chen Liangxi rose to bid farewell, Yuan Jiangyan made no move, merely nodding in acknowledgement. The highly respected, elderly monk of Jiangnan, however, personally rose to escort him to the door. The little beggar, of course, could not enter the meditation room and stood by the door, still clutching the empty watermelon rind, a comical sight. As they exited Baoguo Temple, Chen Liangxi turned to look at the temple gate, a hint of disappointment in his expression. He muttered to himself, "Our paths diverge; this is not my way."

The little beggar, her face full of curiosity, softly asked, "Where's that kind older brother?"

Chen Liangxi gently stroked her little head and softly replied, "He must have left Baoguo Temple earlier than us."

The little beggar let out a small "Oh," sounding quite dejected.

Chen Liangxi bent down to help her with the watermelon and teased, "What's wrong, Little Dingdong, have you fallen for that older brother? Indeed, he's a hundred times more handsome than Brother Chen."

The little beggar's face turned beet red, and she mumbled shyly, looking utterly adorable.

Chen Liangxi stopped teasing the little girl.

The little beggar clutched the impoverished scholar's sleeve as they walked. After a long hesitation, she gathered her courage and looked up, about to speak, when Chen Liangxi looked down and gently said, "I know Little Dingdong still likes Brother Chen the most, don't you?"

The little beggar flashed a brilliant smile.

Chen Liangxi looked up at the sky, his smile captivating, and said, "If, in the future, Brother Chen can step into the mire of history and fortunately leave a footprint, I must make sure Little Dingdong is there with me."

How many heroes and warlords throughout history, rising from humble beginnings during times of chaos, have managed to leave their names in official historical records? Even a few dozen characters would be a luxury! For this impoverished scholar, destined to be posthumously honored with "Wenzheng," his "footprint" clearly signified an ambitious desire to be recorded in official history, not mere unofficial accounts or anecdotes. The little beggar, of course, understood none of this; to her, it was likely less tangible than the practical joy of having fried watermelon slices for dinner. She simply thought Brother Chen had said something good, and happily, she skipped and hopped, enjoying a rare moment of carefree bliss. Chen Liangxi knew the little girl wouldn't understand, which was precisely why he spoke. He cast aside the eight tenets of the Sages' teachings—investigation of things, extension of knowledge, sincerity of thought, rectification of mind, cultivation of self, regulation of family, governance of state, and bringing peace to the world—and disregarded concepts of inner sageliness and outer kingship. He didn't even consider whether his debate on kingship and hegemony that day had made him a rare commodity. He simply smiled and said, "Come on, let's go draw a dragon for you and your grandfather on the stone slab outside the temple. Old custom: Brother Chen draws the dragon, and Little Dingdong dots its eyes."

The little beggar nodded emphatically.

Xu Huipu stood at the entrance of Baoguo Temple, gazing distractedly at the two gradually fading, humble figures, one large and one small. As a daughter of an aristocratic family, her acquaintance with the impoverished scholar Chen Liangxi stemmed from a chance encounter by a spring at the base of the temple wall. The little beggar had gone into the water to pick up coins and was reprimanded by a monk from the temple. Chen Liangxi, who happened to be passing by, entering the temple to paint peonies from its scenery, came to the little beggar's rescue. Xu Huipu, being in a good mood at the time, instructed Baoguo Temple not to stop the little girl from collecting wishing coins in the pond in the future. Later, she accidentally discovered that Chen Liangxi had secretly drawn a dragon. Initially shocked by his audacity, she then became astonished by his exquisite brushwork, almost as if he painted with divine assistance, his strokes resembling the celestial king's beard!

In one painting, "Dragon and Jiao-Python Fighting," an ethereal dragon was vaguely visible above, amidst vibrant, coalescing clouds, its ink strokes flowing freely. The celestial dragon, with its long beard and massive mouth, rode the clouds and mist, looking ancient and awe-inspiring. Below, a large Jiao-python emerged from the water, its talons grasping, while a gigantic python coiled around a mountain, spitting venom towards the sky. By the time Xu Huipu saw it, the painting was nearing completion, and she was truly frightened by the bizarre and fantastical scene. Chen Liangxi, his secret exposed, showed no sign of panic. After their conversation, they found each other agreeable, and she greatly admired Chen Liangxi. However, his sharp edges were too pronounced, and Xu Huipu knew that only her father and other first-class scholars of Jiangnan could truly tame him. Thus, she intended to take a slow approach. Her original plan was for Chen Liangxi to be tempered by life for a few more years, then she would exceptionally recommend him to her paternal Xu family. Starting as a lowly clerk or advisor, he might rise like a dragon. Chen Liangxi would naturally be grateful to the Xu family for their patronage, thus truly serving the family. But then, the Crown Prince, that "embroidered pillow" (a term for someone handsome but useless), appeared, and everything went awry, throwing things into chaos and ruining her years of planning!

Now, Chen Liangxi, who had single-handedly dominated the attention at the 'Flowing Stream and Drinking Game' event, was clearly on the rise. His reputation would soon spread throughout Jiangnan Road. If the Xu family wanted to recruit him now, they would have to do so openly, and the cost would undoubtedly be several times higher than originally planned. How could Xu Huipu not resent the Crown Prince? A deeper hidden reason was that if Lu Baijie hadn't appeared, she would have almost fallen to the humiliating fate of becoming a bed-warmer for that unscrupulous Crown Prince. Xu Huipu, who devoted herself to cultivating the Tao, naturally regarded this as an immense disgrace.

Just now, seeing Yuan Jiangyan, Duke Boling, in the temple, the subtle gloom in this long-established figure's eyes sent shivers down Xu Huipu's spine.

A renowned scholar who could openly say, "Cultivating scholars is not like raising hounds; it's like training a hawk—it serves when hungry, but flies away when satiated," was certainly more than just a moral Confucian scholar who indulged in profound discussions!

Xu Huipu sighed, her heart filled with despair.

She walked out of Baoguo Temple alone, narrowed her eyes, and slowly approached the wall's base, her expression tragically beautiful as she said, "Cao Changqing? What does that have to do with me? I'll just pretend I never heard it!"

Little did she know that her impulsive act this time, which would cause the Crown Prince to lose his wager, would also indirectly serve as her revenge.

The Taoist nun looked down at a patch of weeds and sneered, "Women are as cheap as grass."