Chapter 18: Those Jarred Yellow Wines

Xu Fengnian awoke in the early morning, feeling the comforting embrace of his satin quilt even with his eyes closed. This brought him a deep sense of contentment. Without having experienced hunger or bitter cold, it was hard to truly grasp the profound happiness of warmth and a full stomach. The wisdom that "hunger cures all ills," no matter how earnestly conveyed by his elders, simply didn't resonate in the same way. When he recounted his three years of travels at Yellow Crane Tower to his two wealthy childhood friends, Li Hanlin and Yan Chiji, they were merely curious about the thrilling tales and anecdotes of the martial world, untouched by the hardships of starvation or freezing. Thus, Xu Fengnian, whose hands and feet were still calloused from his journey, felt immensely grateful to have returned alive to Liangzhou. As he sat up, Hongshu, the head maid from the warm room who slept on a nearby cot, entered to help him dress and adorn himself. Xu Fengnian didn't refuse, recognizing that while understanding the struggles of common life was good, being overly ascetic was uncalled for.

As Hongshu's slender hands worked, she softly mentioned a sealed letter had appeared on the table. Xu Fengnian acknowledged her with a hum. Within influential aristocratic families, overstepping boundaries was a grave offense; even the most favored maids or concubines would never dare to take it lightly. After Xu Fengnian rose, rinsed his mouth, and washed his face, he carefully opened the letter. Such occurrences were rare; Wutong Courtyard was not accessible to just anyone. On the envelope, the small seal script character 'Yin' was inscribed.

Xu Fengnian was not surprised. It was an open secret that his father had ten 'Earthly Branch' assassins, individuals like specters avoiding sunlight, masters of obscure arts, and unconventional methods, capable of killing invisibly. Xu Fengnian discovered the letter was a detailed itinerary, plainly describing Old Huang's journey to the East Sea, recording every minute detail. At first, it contained trivialities, which Xu Fengnian found amusing, realizing his father must have known all about his own embarrassing incidents during his travels. As Xu Fengnian read that Old Huang had entered the domain of Wudi City, near Donglin Jieshi where one could behold the vast sea, the 'Yin' character also conveyed secret information beyond Old Huang himself. For instance, several of the world's most distinguished sword masters had arrived in Wudi City early. In addition to the master of the Yue Wang Sword Pool, two reclusive swordsmen from the Wu family's sword tomb had also emerged from seclusion and traveled to the East Sea, eagerly anticipating the climactic battle atop the city walls. The following passage even stated that Cao Guanzi, a highly esteemed first-rank master, had rented an entire sea-viewing building within Wudi City.

Though Xu Fengnian hadn't personally witnessed these events, he distinctly felt a suffocating sense of foreboding, like 'dark clouds pressing on the city, a storm brewing in every building.' The second-to-last section recounted Old Huang stopping for a moment at a wine shop not far from the main city tower, ordering two liang of wine, half a jin of meat, and a plate of peanuts.

Old Huang, still that same mild-mannered, good-natured fellow.

Only the final section of the 'Yin' intelligence report remained.

Xu Fengnian wasn't in a hurry to read on. Instead, he recalled numerous events from those three years. The biggest challenges involved encounters with highwaymen and bandits, while countless smaller incidents amounted to nothing more than trying to survive like a refugee. They resorted to every imaginable trick—swindling, deceiving, and stealing—yet often ended up empty-handed, sometimes even being scorned or chased. He remembered how he went from boldly flirting with pretty girls to detouring around even moderately attractive ones. He went from being finicky about the refinement of meat or the mellowness of wine to being utterly grateful for a cup of hot tea or a hint of meat flavor—a stark contrast. He had borrowed tattered Taoist robes and posed as an impoverished fortuneteller, spouting nonsense to people. He had even set up a stall in alleys, offering the 19-line Go game, which wasn't yet popular among common folk. However, he barely earned any money and instead lost a few copper coins to some cunning local tricksters. He had sold calligraphy and paintings and helped villagers write family letters. He even resorted to petty theft, though he rarely had the good fortune to avoid being chased by the villagers.

"Young master, this is a cucumber stolen from the village's vegetable patch. You can eat it raw."

"Ptui, ptui! This thing is edible?"

The dusty crown prince sat on a small mound, tossing the half-eaten cucumber far away. After what felt like an eternity, the listless prince weakly waved at Old Huang, who was squatting nearby, avidly munching on his own cucumber. "Ah, Old Huang, help me get that cucumber. I really don't have the strength to stand up."

"Young master, this is a roasted ear of corn. It's certainly better than raw cucumber."

"Stop babbling, just eat!"

"Old Huang, what's that you dug out of the ground?"

"A sweet potato."

"Can you eat it raw?"

"Damn, it's really crispy and sweet."

"Young master, may I say something?"

"Actually, it's even more fragrant when roasted."

"Damn it! Why didn't you say so earlier?!"

"Though stealing this chicken almost cost me my life, it was worth it! It's no worse than tender muntjac meat."

"It is fragrant."

"Old Huang, when we first entered the village, why were you always ogling that flirty woman's backside? Last time, you were staring intently at a village girl breastfeeding her child. What, do you think staring at them long enough will conjure a baby for you?"

"I don't dare to touch, only to look."

"Some ambition!"

"Old Huang, am I going to die? I should have known not to touch that box in your travel bag."

"No! Young master, don't overthink things. People only scare themselves. I just like to think positively. Young master, just keep thinking about good wine, good meat, and those pretty ladies, and you'll get over this hurdle."

"The more I think about it, the more I want to die."

"No, no, no! Young master still owes me several pots of yellow wine. A man of integrity's word, once spoken, can't be pulled back by four oxen, five donkeys, or six horses. Where I'm from, they say a loud fart can make a pit."

"Old Huang, that's not funny at all."

"Then shall I tell young master a different joke?"

"No, your old, stale, crude stories that you've heard secondhand, you've told them a thousand times over; my ears are calloused. Enough, I'll sleep for a bit. Don't worry, I won't die."

"Old Huang, have you never married?"

"No, when I was young, all I knew was hard labor, constantly blacksmithing, so I couldn't save any copper coins. Later, when I got older, what girl would look at me?"

"How uninteresting and incomplete that life must be."

"It's fine, it's fine. Just like I, Old Huang, have never tasted bird's nest or bear paw in my life, I don't long for their flavors. At most, if I get a chance, a few glances are enough to satisfy me. Young master, isn't that the truth?"

"I didn't realize you, Old Huang, understood some philosophy."

"Heh, just random pondering."

"Old Huang, you say this kid Wen Hua is always thinking about practicing swordplay, but looking at his posture, he doesn't seem to have any talent for it."

"Young master, I don't think you can judge just by looking. It's like when I was a child, chopping firewood on the mountain. Those with great strength would stop after two hours. My hands and feet were clumsy, but if I sharpened my hatchet and chopped for six or seven more hours, I'd always carry more firewood down the mountain than them. And if you stay on the mountain long enough chopping wood, you might just find good timber that can sell for quite a few copper coins if you chop off a piece."

"That method is too clumsy."

"Clumsy people have to use clumsy methods, otherwise, they can't survive. After finally being reborn into this world for a trip, I feel one can't just do nothing."

"Sigh, I can't stand your philosophies. By the way, Old Huang, if I learn swordplay, will I have a future?"

"That future would be boundless, wouldn't it?!"

"Old Huang, that praise coming from your mouth really gives me no sense of accomplishment. Hey, hey, hey, how many times have I told you, don't look at me with that kind of gaze!"

The head maid, Hongshu, observed the Crown Prince's expression, and the corners of her own mouth subtly curved upwards.

Xu Fengnian gathered his thoughts and finally turned to the last section.

"'Sword Nine Huang, with his sword box strapped to his back, leaped onto the city wall and stopped twenty zhang from Wang Xianzhi. All five swords from his box were unsheathed, and all eight sword forms were executed. Wang Xianzhi met him with a single hand. A total of sixty-eight moves were exchanged. Finally, Sword Nine was unleashed. Wang Xianzhi moved his right hand. Sword Nine, like a Milky Way cascading for a thousand li, completely shredded the sleeve of Wang Xianzhi's right arm. Wang Xianzhi fought with all his might, and Sword Nine Huang, with a single hand and a single sword, broke through forty-nine of his moves until he perished.

Appendix 1: Sword Nine Huang's meridians were all severed. He sat cross-legged on the city wall, his head facing north, dead but not fallen.Appendix 2: After this battle, no one in the world dared to claim that Sword Nine Huang was vastly inferior to the Sword God Deng Tai'a. Cao Guanzi, from within the Sea-Viewing Tower, praised the single move of Sword Nine, declaring its sword intent magnificent, and that no more brilliant sword techniques existed in the world.Appendix 3: Sword Nine was named 'Six Thousand Li,' a designation given by Sword Nine Huang himself.Appendix 4: Before his death, Sword Nine Huang appeared to have a dying wish, heard only by Wang Xianzhi.'"

Xu Fengnian kept his head bowed, staring at the letter. From his profile, there was nothing unusual. After a long silence, he finally said softly, "Hongshu, please prepare some warmed yellow wine."

This was not the season for warmed yellow wine; the lake's crabs and perch were still small. So the head maid softly inquired, "Your Highness, you wish to drink it now?"

Xu Fengnian nodded. "I wish to drink it."

Hongshu, being perceptive, didn't ask further questions. She went to the Wutong Courtyard's well-stocked cellar and retrieved a pot of aged Huiji Mountain yellow wine. She warmed a pot for the Crown Prince and brought it to the small sandalwood table beside the bamboo couch by the window on the second floor of Wutong Courtyard. Xu Fengnian requested two wine cups, then waved his hand, dismissing all the maids, including Hongshu and Lv Yi. The second floor, adorned with priceless antiques, calligraphy, and paintings, became utterly tranquil. Xu Fengnian poured two cups of yellow wine and sat in silence for the entire day, his face betraying neither joy nor sorrow. As dusk approached, his gaze fell upon the Xiudong saber, which had long been neglected and hung on the wall purely as an ornate decoration.

Xu Fengnian rose from the bamboo couch and took down the Xiudong saber, whose elegant name was even more striking than the blade itself. As he drew it from its scabbard, a chilling cold seeped into his skin. He recalled the time he had foolishly dared to touch Old Huang's sword box, which had left him half-dead that very day—a testament to the potent sword energy contained within. The Xiudong saber and those other swords were all formidable weapons, capable of severing heads, entirely unlike the gold and jade-inlaid baubles worn by the dandies of Liangzhou on their belts.

The stewards and servants who had joined the mansion later likely couldn't imagine that this Crown Prince, who seemed to spend his days solely in pursuit of pleasure, had first touched a saber at the tender age of six.

Xu Fengnian carried the saber downstairs and saw a group of maids gathered in the courtyard, their faces etched with worry. Xu Fengnian smiled. "Go about your own business, even if it's just for appearances. Otherwise, if Chief Steward Shen sees you, he'll start grumbling about Wutong Courtyard being undisciplined again."

Xu Fengnian quickly entered his bedroom and pulled out the pivotal box from under his bed. Inside, he found a stack of silk scrolls depicting sword stances, sketched with charcoal. Both the scrolls and the box itself had now become cherished mementos.

Without allowing any disturbances, Xu Fengnian studied them intently through the night. After placing the rudimentary sword manual back into the box, he looked up to find his father, Xu Xiao, sitting beside him, having arrived unnoticed.

Xu Xiao asked, "Can you understand them?"

Xu Fengnian shook his head. "No, I can't. Old Huang's drawing skills are terrible, and my comprehension is even worse."

Xu Xiao smiled. "You want to learn swordplay?"

Xu Fengnian nodded. "Yes."

Knowing his son well, Xu Xiao asked, "Once you've learned swordplay, will you go to Wudi City to reclaim the six swords from the sword box?"

Xu Fengnian calmly replied, "There's no reason to leave them there for people to mock Old Huang."

Xu Xiao said indifferently, "Then can you retrieve them before you're fifty?"

Xu Fengnian sighed. "Heaven knows."

Xu Xiao offered no comfort. He simply rose and left casually, leaving an understated remark: "Tell me after you've thought it through clearly."

Xu Fengnian watched his father's retreating back and asked, "What did Old Huang say at the very end?"

Xu Xiao stopped, not turning around, and said, "We'll talk about it once you've mastered it."

In truth, what Old Huang said wasn't important.

The person was gone.

Six thousand li of trials and triumphs, a sword box stood tall upon the city wall.

But those dozens of jars of yellow wine, they were still left.