Chapter 204: Watching the Tide and Throwing the Sword

Across the Lands: Beacon Fires for the Lords

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The Prince's entourage made a slight detour on their journey back, arriving at Guangling River.

It was the eighteenth day of the eighth lunar month, time for the great tide. Spectators came from all corners of the world, creating an unprecedented spectacle. Since the Great Peace of Spring and Autumn, the former national borders no longer divided the land, making it easier for scholars to travel for study and for knights-errant to roam with their swords. Consequently, exploring scenic spots also became increasingly popular. The Great Tide of Guangling, along with the Golden Summit Buddha Light of Mount Emei and the Grand Peak of Wudang, were known as the three greatest wonders of the age. Dayanji was considered the best vantage point for observing the "first-line tide," unparalleled anywhere. Today, it also hosted a review of the Guangling Navy, with Prince Zhao Yi himself in attendance to oversee the event. The wealthy merchants and high-ranking officials of Guangling brought their families to watch the tide. Compared to the common folk and impoverished scholars, the former, though fewer in number, naturally occupied seventy to eighty percent of the prime viewing spots. They set up tables and couches, laden with fine wine, delicious food, and fruits, inviting esteemed scholars and gentlemen with whom they had long-standing ties to converse and discuss state affairs.

As the tide surged into the funnel-shaped bay, a *mengchong* (a type of warship) belonging to the Guangling Navy would lead the tidal bore in. For ten miles along both banks, there were carriages and splendid attire. From the Dayanji review stand, at Prince Zhao Yi's command, as the small boat and the tidal bore became faintly visible, drums would beat thunderously. The tide and the drumbeats would continue ceaselessly. The common people would then see a white line moving from east to west across the misty river surface, a white rainbow spanning the river. The tidal bore would gradually rise as it advanced, reaching up to four *zhang* (approx. 13 meters) near Dayanji, an overwhelming sight.

The Prince arrived a bit late. The suitable viewing spots along the riverbank were already filled with tents or tables. Hearing the deafening cheers, he could already guess that the tide-riding *mengchong* was about to approach. He had no choice but to abandon their carriage, leaving Shu Xiu and Yang Qingfeng to guard it. Before parting, the Prince smilingly suggested to his two attendants that they might want to sit on the carriage roof for a better view. Qing Niao carried a small jar in her hand and the Chixia Sword, a relic of Lü Qiantang, at her waist. Xu Fengnian walked at the front, holding the hand of the delicate Murong Wuzhu. Given her easy-going nature, she might not even have the nerve to call for help if they got separated in the crowd.

Murong Tonghuang walked on the right side. Just as some lecherous ruffians, who loved to cause trouble and take advantage of others, were about to make a move, Murong Tonghuang slapped them or kicked them fiercely, showing no hesitation in her actions. Most of the hooligans who suffered silently wanted to immediately get their revenge on this young woman. However, upon seeing Xu Fengnian, who led the group, dressed in fine brocade and fox fur, their arrogance immediately deflated. They awkwardly withdrew their hands and looked for other targets, choosing softer 'persimmons' to bully. After all, in the vast crowd of tide-watchers, there were plenty of timid young women who wouldn't speak up after being bullied, so there was no need to persist with one difficult target.

Chen Yu, who had been abducted from the bamboo forest, wore a thickly veiled hat, just like Pei Nanwei. Her figure was enchanting, even more so than the Murong siblings, whose gender was hard to distinguish. However, these two great beauties, both ranked on the Rouge List, followed closely behind the Prince. To his right, Murong Tonghuang was continuously slapping people, and to his left, the maidservant Qing Niao cleared obstacles with her sword sheath. No one could get close. The old man in sheepskin was responsible for the rear. He had little to do and often found his gaze drawn to the woman surnamed Chen, or more precisely, to her slender waist. With a hundred years of experience, the Old Sword God still had to admit that young Xu's eye for women was even more impressive than his martial arts progress. Even Li Chungang himself couldn't deny this. Lately, the Old Sword God had been busy admiring Pei Nanwei's backside, Shu Xiu's chest, and the Murong siblings' 'twin lotuses,' feasting his eyes. But what he looked at most was the unfamiliar woman named Chen, especially her supple, slender waist. *Tsk-tsk*, it truly captivated the observers. To gauge a woman's charm, one looks at her spirit, observes her eyes; but to truly see her allure, one must look at that connecting waist. If it swayed too much when she walked gracefully, it would appear overly seductive and vulgar; but if it was too narrow, it might seem small and petty. This is the origin of the old saying, 'A woman's waist holds kingdoms.'

However, though Chen Yu was exquisitely beautiful and a delight to behold, the Old Sword God harbored a slight doubt. Her appearance was too coincidental, and her composure after being abducted by young Xu was unsettlingly calm, far exceeding the typical unflappability of a well-bred young lady. Observing her qi, this stunning woman, who emanated an air of mystery, was not a martial artist. After all, how many 'old dogs' like Zhao Xuansu, who had achieved true simplicity, were there in the world? What, then, was her true reliance? Old Li, in his sheepskin, narrowed his eyes. The group finally pushed their way out of the dense crowd. Further ahead, the riverbank was dominated by Guangling's powerful clans, where many burly, broad-shouldered servants stood with folded arms, intimidating the common folk. Some scions of great noble families had hired numerous renowned martial artists and strategists from the *jianghu* as retainers and advisors, who stood with swords at their waists and daggers, powerful and imposing. The two areas were distinctly separated, much like the scholars at Baoguo Temple's 'winding stream party' disdaining to sit with ordinary people.

Xu Fengnian likely benefited from the beautiful women by his side; a vacuum formed around him. Here, there was no need to stand on tiptoe to watch the tide. Old Li stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the 'first-line tide' on the river, which moved as swiftly as thunder. His expression was desolate. In his youth, he had dominated the world with a single sword, riding the tidal bore on the Guangling River with his sword, full of spirit and vigor. Now aged, his sword mastery was even more refined, yet he lacked any desire to 'stand out from the forest' by seeking fame or glory.

This old man, who now only enjoyed picking his feet in his leisure, did not know that his magnificent feat back then had inspired countless *jianghu* heroes to successively display their prowess on the Guangling River. There were strongmen who lifted thousand-jin cauldrons to smash the tidal bore, swordsmen who navigated boats against the tide, and archers of astonishing strength who fired a continuous volley of arrows, clashing with the great tide and stirring up thousands of waves. Was it not out of admiration for the Sword God Li Chungang's valiant appearance, wandering the *jianghu* in a green robe with his sword, that Lü Qiantang had lived in a thatched hut by the river for over ten years practicing his sword before he became famous? Unfortunately, after Zhao Yi took control of the former Western Chu territories, the Guangling Navy established itself here like a coiled dragon and crouching tiger. No *jianghu* figures who valued their lives dared to put on airs of mastery. The Guangling Navy, in both scale and combat strength, was undoubtedly the foremost among all imperial navies, far beyond comparison with 'embroidered pillows' like the Qingzhou Navy. If war broke out, they probably wouldn't even be enough to fill Guangling's teeth. Each year during the review, besides the Great Prince Zhao Yi overseeing the multitude from Dayanji, the most prominent figure was always the 'tide-rider' who symbolized the Guangling Navy, navigating the *mengchong* across the river alone.

At that moment, as people on both banks looked on, the great *mengchong* warship appeared as light as a feather.

A young general stood with his hand on his sword, his armor gleaming, his bearing heroic and spirited, captivating countless young ladies and maidens.

In the south, scholars were as numerous as trees in a forest, a magnificent sight. Visiting any temple or Taoist monastery, one would see walls covered in poetry and calligraphy. Even in shabby inns that leaked wind and rain, one could find various travel writings lamenting unfulfilled talents. Thus, these young ladies had seen and heard too much of their peers' exceptional literary talents. The man before them, in terms of scholarship, was granted the *tong jinshi* degree among the top three ranks even before reaching adulthood, and he wrote exquisite cursive calligraphy, known as 'one-stroke calligraphy,' where whether it was ten or a hundred characters on paper, they were always written in a single stroke, without any embellishment. In terms of martial arts, he had once defeated a highly esteemed sword guest of the Prince of Guangling's mansion in a training ground competition. This man possessed both literary and military talents of the highest caliber, undeniably Guangling's preeminent talent. Even the arrogant Prince of Guangling willingly swore brotherhood with him and honored him as an elder brother.

As the *mengchong* sailed past, many spectators, who had prepared bonfires and reeds, enthusiastically threw them into the Guangling River to pray for blessings from the Dragon King of Guangling. These people were exclusively men and women from local powerful clans or influential families from other regions. Ordinary folk, at best, brought a bundle of reeds, and most were at some distance from the riverbank, so how would they dare to throw bonfires? If their strength failed and they missed the Guangling River, instead landing the bonfire on the tents or tables of the wealthy scions, they would certainly receive a severe beating. Indeed, some commoners who dared to throw reeds brought trouble upon themselves. Before they could flee, they were caught by fierce servants and cruel henchmen, thrown to the ground, and subjected to a beating. They didn't even dare to cry out and could only crawl back into the crowd, bruised and swollen.

Xu Fengnian was, after all, the most notorious wastrel in the dynasty, so he was accustomed to such sights. He had no chivalrous heart to 'draw his sword when he saw injustice,' nor did he heed unfairness. He merely pressed his thin lips together and walked quietly forward, wrapped in a snow-like fur coat. Before him were two clusters of aristocratic families, their cups clinking together. A few burly servants stepped forward to block their path, but Qing Niao, without a word, slapped them away with her sword sheath. They spun twice in the air before falling to the ground, instantly unconscious.

Xu Fengnian ignored the chattering of the Guangling aristocratic youths and walked to the riverbank, just as the 'first-line tide' surged past. He took the jar and the Chixia Great Sword from Qing Niao. First, he threw the jar containing Lü Qiantang's ashes into the river, then flung the sword, striking the small jar. The ashes scattered into the river's tide.

Xu Fengnian couldn't claim to be deeply grieved by Lü Qiantang's death, but since he had promised to fulfill the East Yue swordsman's last wish, he had to see it through as agreed. Xu Fengnian clapped his hands, then squatted down, watching the surging tidal bore. He softly said, "They all say a valiant man either dies or achieves great renown. No wonder you swore so loudly before you died."

Xu Fengnian stood up and noticed Chen Yu gazing at the back of the man on the *mengchong* warship. Her veiled hat obscured her face, but she gave off an unusual feeling.

Xu Fengnian glanced askance at the chattering Guangling noble youths. Once they instinctively fell silent in surprise, he turned to the taciturn woman and jokingly asked, "What's wrong? Is that your sweetheart?"

She calmly shook her head and replied, "He once spoke of the commonalities between calligraphy and swordsmanship, with unique insights. Cursive script with little blank space is sparse in spirit, while much blank space is mysterious. The strokes' opening, closing, gathering, and dispersing – applied to swordsmanship, if it's grand and imposing, it's not as good as..."

Xu Fengnian ungracefully interrupted her: "Just talk on paper, utterly boring."

Chen Yu stopped talking and dismissed it with a smile.

Playing the lute to a cow.

Though Xu Fengnian was petty and narrow-minded, he still had a bit of self-awareness. He self-mockingly said, "Well, we truly are on different paths, incompatible in purpose. Chen Yu, since we're already family, why don't you just tell me plainly, do you have a lover?"

Chen Yu calmly asked, "If I do, would you just kill him?"

Hearing the word 'kill' uttered with such murderous intent from a beauty's lips had a unique charm. Xu Fengnian laughed brazenly, "I like your temperament. You'd be perfect as a sister-in-law."

Chen Yu looked towards Dayanji, where a corpulent man in an almost-bursting python robe stood. She sighed inexplicably.

Xu Fengnian asked with a smiling gaze, "Don't scare me. Are you connected to Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling?"

Chen Yu's expression remained normal, and she said nothing.

Xu Fengnian slipped his hands into his sleeves and softly said, "Let's go. Back to Beiliang."

Chen Yu didn't move. After a moment of hesitation, she said, "Someone wants me to go to the capital. You won't be able to stop them."

Xu Fengnian stopped, his face full of amusement. "Who is this frog croaking wildly, constantly threatening to swallow heaven and spit out earth?"

Chen Yu stared at the Prince's face, her expression entirely serious.

Xu Fengnian's expression turned peculiar.

Chen Yu bent down and picked up a bundle of reeds from the ground, tossing them into the Guangling River. She then said, "When I was three, my destiny was divined by both Longhu Mountain and the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. They said I possess the 'Moon Laurel Entering Temple' fate pattern."

The old man in sheepskin, who had been observing coolly, grumbled, "It's a good fate, either to become empress or a high-ranking consort."

Xu Fengnian simply said "Oh" and offered no further comment.