Chapter 207: Want to Teach You to Hang the Northern Liang Knife All Over the City

Chen Yu had thought this person would sneak away from Guangling with his tail between his legs after causing trouble. What did it matter if he was the Prince of Beiliang? This was Guangling, the territory painstakingly cultivated by Feudal Prince Zhao Yi for twenty years. His power was deeply entrenched. While the law stipulated that kings should not meet kings, everyone knew that among the so-called Seven Feudal Princes, only the Prince of Yanchi and the Prince of Guangling could truly challenge the Prince of Beiliang. Unfortunately, Zhao Yi was one of them. Besides its magnificent navy, unparalleled under heaven, Guangling also possessed a considerable number of elite cavalry. Among them, the eight thousand personal guards of the Beikui Army were the elite of the elite, swift as an arrow and fierce as thunder in battle. The cavalry commander Lu Shengxiang and the standard-bearer Zhang Erbao were both recognized as peerless warriors in the Liyang Dynasty, their reputations on par with Xu Xiao's five adopted sons, excluding Chen Zhibao. Lu Shengxiang, in particular, had achieved remarkable military success during the Spring and Autumn period, first by taking Luzhou on a snowy night, and then leading a thousand cavalry through Dongyue. After Grand General Gu Jiantang disbanded his old units and only brought his direct lineage into the Ministry of War, their full combat strength was subsequently divided and absorbed by the Princes of Yanchi and Guangling. Local governors, numbering over a dozen, dared not even ask for a single soldier. In terms of military merit and strength, Prince Zhao Yi certainly could not compare to Xu Xiao, a prince of a different surname. However, a mighty dragon cannot defeat a local snake, and Xu Fengnian was, at best, merely a young python crossing a river. How could he contend with Zhao Yi, the Guangling serpent who had long become a seasoned expert? Due to the circumstances, Chen Yu and her maid Qingniao walked slowly together. Looking up, they saw that all the tide-watchers on the shore had scattered and fled for their lives, leaving chaos everywhere. On land, a black current surged forward—the distinct black armor and warhorses of the Beikui Army. Their momentum was immense, in no way inferior to the famous "Guangling Tidal Bore." Chen Yu frowned slightly. Had Xu Fengnian gone mad? She wasn't repulsed by the brutal way he disciplined Prince Zhao Biao; evil people deserved to be dealt with by other evil people, and there was rarely any tenderness in the feuds between top-tier scions. However, for Xu Fengnian to stubbornly push against the current despite being in such danger was utterly irrational. Showing off power and prestige was not done this way. Did he not understand such simple principles as "a son of a thousand gold pieces does not sit under a crumbling roof"? Chen Yu let out a slight cold snort, a sneer on her lips. It was truly a pity that a meticulously laid plan, foreshadowed for a thousand *li*, was to be cut short here by the Guangling River, just as it had begun to unfold?

Shuxiu and Yang Qingfeng had no reason to stay out of it. Qingniao held a "Momentary Spear." The three kept a distance from the Prince and the old man in sheepskin. Since they had abandoned the carriage, Qingniao didn't forget to have Shuxiu carry Deng Tai'a's sword box. The two men at the front were preparing to directly face the first wave of cavalry charge, a display of arrogance that made one tremble. The Prince walked forward gracefully, with a pair of long and short blades at his waist, his hand on a hilt. Although his face was slightly pale and he seemed unwell, no one doubted that he was merely a sickly young man after he had subdued the horse and displayed that astonishing feat of qi manipulation. The one-armed old Sword God, knowing that today's battle would very likely be his last in this world, felt no compunction about shaking the heavens. The Sword Emperor of Western Shu had once slain a thousand cavalry before dying of exhaustion. Li Chungang intended to show all martial artists under heaven that the peak of swordsmanship was not limited to that. What if he, Li Chungang, had dominated the martial world for a hundred years and lost two matches to Wang Xianzhi? Was there truly no younger swordsman who could unseat the Lord of Wudi City? Just one Deng Tai'a on the great river of swordsmanship was still too few.

Chen Yu walked at the very end. The unconscious fat pig, Zhao Biao, lying at her feet, slightly opened his eyes, rolled his three hundred catties of flesh, and scrambled to his feet with lightning speed, his movements so agile one might doubt their eyes. His trembling flesh swayed violently. After standing up, he ran frantically in the opposite direction of Xu Fengnian, only wishing to quickly leave the troublesome place. Chen Yu, witnessing all this, was slightly astonished, thinking that this Prince of Guangling was not truly foolish after all, and even knew how to feign death to get by. If not for such a disgraceful display, he would surely have lost more flesh. Chen Yu no longer glanced at the heap of foul, fat flesh. She turned and saw that the Prince of Beiliang was already in a stance to draw his blade. Chen Yu sighed inwardly. If she were in his shoes, she would have loudly announced her identity before the crowd dispersed, spreading the Prince of Beiliang's name throughout the Guangling River banks. Only then could Zhao Yi have been deterred, fearing to openly crush them with nearly a thousand cavalry. After all, unauthorized killing of the Beiliang Prince was a grave crime destined to shock the court, especially since this Prince was considered true gold and silver in the Liyang Dynasty, a first-class distinguished descendant whose title was hereditary. But the opportunity was fleeting. Those tide-watchers, regardless of their family background, lacked even the courage to spectate. Even if they knew the inside story afterward, they would no longer be qualified as witnesses. Who would risk their life to speak plainly to the court? Chen Yu, whose origins were unknown, had complex thoughts. She recalled the back of the white-furred young master who had thrown a jar and then a sword, and she vaguely remembered hearing a remark at the time. She murmured to herself, "A hero raises his name upon death—this is true. But this is the act of a desperate hero. You clearly have the potential to be a powerful king or lord who can conquer the north and swallow the south. Why are you so reckless? I thought you were flawed on the outside but pure gold within; I never imagined you were rotten through and through."

On the military review platform at Dayanji, a large banner emblazoned with the character 'Zhao' fluttered in the river wind. An obese middle-aged man, even bulkier than Zhao Biao, wore a python robe with a jade belt. The nine-python design, crafted from golden yellow Shu brocade satin, with its river-edge and sea-wave patterns, complemented the Guangling tide perfectly. The seat beneath the man's buttocks was three times the normal size. He was as unmoving as a mountain; simply sitting, he appeared taller than many civil officials on Dayanji. The dynasty's python robes could not be worn by anyone other than imperial family members and their close relatives—rebels, of course, were an exception. This python robe, symbolizing the peak of wealth and prestige, was divided into nine grades. In terms of color, unless one was the Crown Prince, feudal princes and ordinary imperial princes were legally permitted to wear only light yellow, blue, or slate blue python robes, at most with gold embroidery on the edges. Yet, this utterly stable little mountain of a man was specially bestowed with a golden yellow python robe of the purest hue, a testament to extreme imperial grace. This was because the powerful feudal prince and the current emperor were born of the same mother, their deep brotherly bond incomparable to that with other princely relatives. Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling was the only person in the realm who could share a bed with His Imperial Majesty. Once, he had used a jade ruyi scepter to smash a governor's head open, and the only consequence was that Grand Eunuch Qian Diaosi from the palace was dispatched to Guangling to deliver a mild, ineffectual verbal reprimand on behalf of the Emperor.

Beside Prince Zhao Yi stood an old man, thin as a monkey, with two wisps of rat whiskers. He wore a first-class robe from the Su craftsmen, though his appearance was truly unsightly. To Zhao Yi's right stood a dignified and elegant middle-aged general, holding his sword, indicating the great prince's trust in this military commander. This was none other than the renowned general Lu Shengxiang, known for his cunning tactics, particularly his skill in long-distance raids with a small number of elite cavalry, winning by surprise. Half the credit for the fall of the Dongyue Kingdom was attributed to Lu Shengxiang. Lu Shengxiang, who came from a humble background, had an excellent reputation both in the military and among scholars. For some unknown reason, he always remained in Guangling. When Gu Jiantang entered the capital with twelve cavalry, Lu Shengxiang should have been among them. For years, there were frequent rumors that Lu Shengxiang would be appointed Vice Minister of War in the capital, serving five or six years, and then, when Gu Jiantang advanced further, he would take over as Minister of War. It wasn't until this year that Lu Baixi of Tangxi in Huting Commandery emerged and assumed the position of Vice Minister of War, finally quelling the speculation and clamor in court and common society.

The shifty-eyed chief elder strategist of the Guangling Prince's manor extended a bamboo-shoot finger to twirl his mustache, saying in a strange tone, "Shengxiang, you overestimate this Beiliang Prince. If we had known this earlier, we could have slowly toyed with him like a cat playing with a mouse." The moment the Beiliang Prince and his entourage stepped into Guangling, the Prince's secret agents had already sent word to the Spring Snow Pavilion in the Prince's manor. This pavilion was off-limits to commoners and served as the Prince's military strategy center. All matters, big or small, within Guangling's jurisdiction were decided here, hence it was regarded as a great 'Dragon Gate' by Guangling officials. Gaining entry to meet Prince Zhao Yi in this pavilion signified that an official had truly secured their position in Guangling. Being able to offer counsel to Zhao Yi, who had just become the Jiedushi of Guangling, meant that one was already an all-powerful dignitary within Guangling, incredibly influential, and even more intimidating than governors or prefects who held grand titles. Today, when Xu Fengnian came to watch the tide, the direct descendants of the Prince and his strategists in Spring Snow Pavilion adopted a cool strategy of neither wooing nor provoking him. However, Prince Zhao Biao disrupted their plans. This was not a major issue for the Guangling shadow dignitaries in Spring Snow Pavilion. Most of them were younger, more aggressive factions who had only found a place in the pavilion in the last twenty years. They held little reverence for Xu Xiao, the prince of a different surname. Several radical strategists had, for years, tirelessly advocated using the Beiliang cavalry as a stepping stone for Guangling's powerful army. Therefore, upon hearing that Prince Zhao Biao had led thirty cavalry to provoke Xu Fengnian, only to be humiliated by Xu Fengnian's "meat-slicing" display, even Lu Shengxiang felt some anger. He immediately proposed launching a lightning assault with over a thousand cavalry before the Beiliang Prince could reveal his identity to protect himself. Even if the renowned old Sword God Li Chungang from Wudi City was guarding him, and even if all one thousand Beikui soldiers perished, they could simply dispatch another three thousand cavalry. Killing a young man who would one day inherit the title of Prince of Beiliang, and incidentally eliminating a famous sword master of the martial world, Lu Shengxiang believed his master had the audacity to sacrifice one or two thousand Beikui soldiers.

Others might not know the hidden thoughts of the Emperor in the capital, but the renowned general Lu Shengxiang, who had stood firm in the Spring Snow Pavilion for over two decades, always ranking among the top three, how could he not discern the bottom line? Perhaps today's upheaval would certainly enrage the Lame Xu from Beiliang, causing a ripple effect that would prompt an imperial decree from the capital, possibly even demoting the Prince of Guangling by one rank. However, temporary gains and losses, whether in court intrigue or war between two states, could largely be ignored. Xu Xiao had spent most of his life in military campaigns, suffering countless injuries, and was now past fifty. How much longer could he live? What if the Lame Xu was given twenty more years? By then, Beiliang would fall apart, while his master was not yet sixty and, more importantly, had numerous descendants. Lu Shengxiang dared to assert that by then, not only would Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling regain his princely title, but his own prince might even obtain a coveted hereditary title for himself. Beiliang was powerful, like a towering python coiled along the northern border. Its only fatal weakness was that the Xu princely house had only two sons: the younger son, Xu Longxiang, was an imbecile, and if the elder son, Xu Fengnian, died, Xu Xiao, who had the ability to overturn the eight states of Spring and Autumn, would he also have the ability to defy Heaven? Unless one was an ordinary sage of the three religions, a century of youth ended in bones; it had always been so since ancient times. Everyone chanted "Long live the Emperor," but who could truly live ten thousand years? Lu Shengxiang didn't bother to quibble with the rat-whiskered strategist. He said calmly, "If Xu Fengnian seeks death, can you or I stop him?"

The repulsive-looking chief strategist of the Prince's manor chuckled, his eyes unexpectedly sharp. One should not judge a book by its cover.

When Lu Shengxiang proposed using a thousand cavalry on the shore to chase down and kill Xu Fengnian, he wasn't entirely certain if Zhao Yi had the patience to endure for twenty years. However, in reality, this great Prince not only ordered Zhang Erbao to lead the troops but also sent someone with the tiger tally to Shanwei Grand Camp, commanding the rest of the Beikui Army to be deployed. This decisive ruthlessness even moved Lu Shengxiang, who was accustomed to slaughter. One must understand that killing the only direct heir of Beiliang meant that Guangling would become a sworn enemy of the Beiliang Iron Cavalry. If the Guangling army were to truly clash with the Beiliang Iron Cavalry on the battlefield, two Guanglings would surely lose. Zhao Yi had only two major backers: his full brother in the capital, and the vast territory of the Liyang Dynasty stretching a thousand *li* between Beiliang and Guangling.

Just a few individuals, with a few words and laughter on Dayanji, determined the course of the dynasty for the next twenty years.

Lu Shengxiang listened to the surging tide, his mind far from as calm as his face and voice. This was power. What good were painting-like women, grinding ink with delicate hands, adding fragrance from crimson sleeves, compared to achieving supremacy in a splendid realm?

Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling leaned his elbow on the armrest of his chair, supporting his substantial jaw and cheek. It was hard to imagine that a man weighing nearly four hundred *jin* had skin as white as snow. He said with a smile, "Traveling the martial world with those women is like a three-year-old child carrying gold through a bustling market; how could it not attract attention? Biao'er's judgment has always been good. This loss is not his fault; it's because I underestimated the courage of that young Xu. Indeed, to kill scholars mercilessly in Jiangnan, to openly curse at Longhu Mountain on Huishan's great snowy peak, and to ascend the city wall of Wudi City—even if he's just a 'flowery pillow' (all show, no substance), he should at least be a product of our Guangling Su craftsmen, shouldn't he?"

Lu Shengxiang did not echo the sentiment. He merely watched from the review platform as the Beikui light cavalry poured forth like a flood. That small group of Beiliang visitors truly dared to try and stop a chariot with a praying mantis's arm. These northern barbarians had indeed been spoiled by Xu the Lame.

The rat-whiskered strategist with an aged face chuckled sinisterly, "That little brat is foolishly brave, which isn't true skill. With Your Highness's strategic planning, he absolutely cannot escape our grasp. Perhaps that boy will not believe, even at his death, that Your Highness would not even give Xu Xiao face. I just wonder how many charges of a thousand cavalry that re-emerged Li Chungang can withstand?"

Lu Shengxiang shook his head, his tone heavy. "It is said that Li Chungang achieved the realm of a Land Immortal at Huishan, firmly establishing himself as a Sword Immortal. The Sword Emperor of Western Shu did indeed cut down over a thousand Beiliang Iron Cavalry with his sword back then; that was no mere rumor spread by martial artists. I presume this old Sword God Li will be very troublesome."

Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling smiled faintly, "A thousand Beikui soldiers cost me a good deal of silver. To lose them just like that is a slight pity. However, Guangling has been peaceful and dull these past years. Trading a thousand or even several thousand lives for some amusement won't be a complete loss. Shengxiang, Zhupo, watch this play carefully, don't squander my silver."

Lu Shengxiang remained expressionless. The strategist, addressed as Zhupo, smiled and said, "I, Zhang, don't often deal with martial ruffians. Today, I'll certainly open my eyes wide and see if this 'Sword Immortal' can truly turn the tide."

Zhao Yi snapped his fingers, self-deprecatingly saying, "A Sword Immortal takes heads with flying swords. I wouldn't dare be overconfident. If Li Chungang, cornered, were to cut off my head with a single sword, it would be the biggest joke under heaven."

After the finger snap, an aged swordsman with a withered face but soaring sword qi slowly ascended the review platform. His hands were clasped over his sword hilt, and he faced the cavalry and Li Chungang, closing his eyes in concentration. The old man was Chai Qingshan, the last surviving grand sword master of the previous generation from Dongyue Sword Pond. His swordsmanship was unrivaled in the empire's southeast, and he had blocked countless assassination attempts against Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling. The current master of Dongyue Sword Pond, considering the pond's reputation, had reluctantly expelled his Uncle Chai.

The mustache-twirling strategist chuckled, "Chai Qingshan, you are also considered a grandmaster of the sword. Moreover, your senior brother was once humiliated by Li Chungang and committed suicide in shame and indignation. When enemies meet, they should be particularly enraged. Why are you so calm? Could it be that Li Chungang's 'Sword Opening Heaven's Gate' in the East Sea scared you out of your wits?"

Zhao Yi frowned and said, "Zhang Zhupo, don't be so petty like a woman. Guest Chai merely killed your good-for-nothing nephew. It's a small matter. If you keep nagging, believe it or not, I'll make you fight Guest Chai on the spot." Zhang Zhupo's eyes darted about, then he slapped himself twice hard, apologizing, "This subordinate knows he was wrong." Chai Qingshan remained focused, holding his breath, showing no emotion.

The naval exercises on the river continued as usual, but the Guangling riverbank suddenly surged with activity. Vanguard General Zhang Erbao rode at the forefront, wielding a horse-lance, which whistled as he swung it, tearing through the air.

The old man in sheepskin held a standard-issue sabre of a Peregrine Camp cavalryman, far from being a divine weapon. He looked at the continuous flow of Guangling cavalry, a slight smile appearing on his aged face. "When I first entered the martial world, I stepped onto the Guangling tidal bore and walked with my sword, feeling that with a sword in hand, I could roam freely under heaven, utterly unrestrained. How I miss those youthful days when I knew no sorrow. Finally, I am to leave the martial world, by chance, still here by the Guangling River. Young Xu, I've known you for a while. It's not a pretentious friendship between generations, but I find you quite agreeable. If you were to fight with all your might, your reputation would certainly be secured, but it might not be good for your future command of the Beiliang Iron Cavalry. As a prince, you need to conceal your abilities and might even prefer to smear yourself with dirt every day to sleep soundly. I see you truly live uncomfortably, very different from us common martial artists who seek fame. Therefore, in this battle, don't blame me for stealing all the glory. If a thousand cavalry are killed and Zhao Yi feels no pain, then another three or four thousand cavalry will be killed—it must be me who does it. Should we truly be defeated, you don't need to think about collecting my body. Just retreat. Before I die, I will save enough strength to see you out of Guangling."

Xu Fengnian smiled, "Xu Xiao once said that it's fine for a man to be cynical about trivial matters, but at the brink of life and death, one must still know what to do and what not to do. If the elder trusts this young man, just charge forward and leave your back to Xu Fengnian. It would be great if the two of us could fight our way to Dayanji."

The old Sword God Li Chungang stopped, chuckling mockingly, "Are you saying all these bold words precisely because you know I won't be defeated?" Xu Fengnian said with a wronged expression, "Elder's words are more hurtful than 'Two Sleeves of Green Snakes'." The old man burst into hearty laughter, then tapped his toe, shooting forward. With a heroic spirit, he declared, "Deng Tai'a, when it comes to killing with a sword, do you truly think you are stronger than this old man?"

Later records stated that on the tide-watching day of the eighth month, Li Chungang slew over 2,600 enemies with a single sword. From then on, there was no longer any talk of 'old' or 'new' Sword Gods in the martial world. Blood flowed like rivers, unable to be washed away by the surging tide.

Approaching Dayanji with the Prince of Beiliang, Xu Fengnian smiled and asked Prince Zhao Yi of Guangling, "If this prince dies, Xu Xiao will ensure that every corner of Guangling City hangs a Beiliang blade. Do you believe that?"