Chapter 240: Qingming Festival Sprinkles Yellow Paper

Along the Beimang border, the customs are very similar to those of the Liyang Dynasty, a Han Chinese empire, especially since the large-scale migration of people from the Eight Kingdoms. In fact, there's hardly any difference. On the Double Ninth Festival, people climb high places and wear dogwood; during the Mid-Autumn Festival, they admire osmanthus flowers and eat mooncakes; on New Year's Eve, they set off firecrackers; and today, for the Qingming Festival, they sweep tombs. Men of the household, old and young, bring wine, food, fruits, and paper money to the graves. They burn the paper money, add fresh soil to old graves, and have the younger children and teenagers break off tender yellow new branches in the city to place on the tombstones. After burning the yellow paper, they kowtow and pay respects to their ancestors, seeking blessings from the afterlife before returning home. There's no fixed time for tomb-sweeping on Qingming; it can be done morning or evening. However, today in Liuxia City, a heavy downpour was falling, and most graves were in the distant outskirts. Many people, concerned about their clothes, hoped to wait until the rain subsided before going to sweep the tombs.

Therefore, City Magistrate Tao's departure with thirty-one riders was particularly striking. The bluestone streets of Liuxia City subtly sloped downwards from the center to the sides, a detail usually unnoticeable until heavy rain revealed the drainage by seeing water flow into the gutters. The rhythmic thud of the thirty armored cavalry's hooves struck heavily on the hearts of the people lining the streets. Connecting this to the Bloody General's record of killing over a hundred enemies on the border battlefield and his daily indulgence in killing and drinking at the City Magistrate's mansion, the common folk increasingly felt they could rely on this military-bred City Magistrate.

Wei Feng was a merchant. No matter how much money a merchant made, their status was never as respected as that of the gentry. Although Wei Feng was one of the few wealthy individuals in Liuxia City, his mansion was still two streets away from the City Magistrate's residence. Fortunately, the Wei residence was on a main city road, offering quiet seclusion amidst the bustle, allowing him a perfect view of the thirty-one cavalry galloping out of the city. Leading them was Tao Qianzhi, who wore armor, a departure from official regulations. His mount was a rare Akhal-Teke horse, pale gold all over. Akhal-Teke horses were already exceptionally precious, and this particular steed, a beloved gift from the Guisai Governor, was an outstanding example – extraordinarily strong. It made the city's wealthy salivate with envy and filled the common people with awe.

City Magistrate Tao Qianzhi rode at the forefront, his gaze fixed straight ahead, naturally not noticing a young man with a saber crouching under the high wall and green tiles of the Wei mansion's gate. A delicate, graceful maid with charming eyes held an umbrella for him. The young master, kneeling at the base of the wall, had just managed to burn several handfuls of yellow paper facing south, seemingly having completed his offering. He placed a remaining handful of yellow paper money back into his embrace. The pretty, pitiful maid softly reminded him, "Young Master Xu, it's not good to put paper money meant for ancestors into a living person's embrace. Shall I keep it for you?"

Xu Fengnian stood up. Seeing her left shoulder soaked, he gently pushed the mahogany umbrella ribs towards the maid with his finger. With his hands clasped over his stomach, he watched the cavalry gallop away in the rain, smiling without a word, simply shaking his head. Noticing the small umbrella subtly tilting back towards his head, he took it with a mix of annoyance and amusement, holding it evenly over both their heads. The maid, Chunlong, raised her small head, blinking her naturally vibrant eyes. Xu Fengnian patted her head and smiled, "I'll see you into the mansion first. I'm going out for a walk later, so you don't need to follow me. After this trip, I don't know when I'll be back in Liuxia City. If I pass by the City God Temple and the rain isn't as heavy as now, I'll bring you and Qiushui a steamer of Zhou Ji's xiao long bao."

The young maid, whose figure was just beginning to develop, said understandingly, "It's just a short distance, I can run there in a few steps. Young Master, you can go straight to your walk."

Xu Fengnian narrowed his exceptionally beautiful phoenix eyes, feigning grievance and teasing, "I had hoped to chat a bit more with a certain young lady, but alas, she lacks a sense of romance."

At that moment, the young girl seemed struck by lightning; her entire heart trembled, and she was so mesmerized she couldn't speak. She just tilted her small chin, which would soon become pointed as she grew older, and gazed at the charmingly smiling young master before her. First stirrings of affection are always inexplicable and often blown away by wind and rain, but this particular moment caught the young girl completely off guard.

Xu Fengnian smiled as he escorted her into the Wei mansion. After entering, the young girl did not immediately go into the deep courtyard but stood watching his tall, slender back. As she watched closely, she saw his figure pause for a moment as he walked with his umbrella into the rain curtain beyond the eaves, seemingly glancing through the umbrella's edge at the sky, which resembled a vast ink-seeping inkstone.

Xu Fengnian walked slowly along the street with his umbrella, his shoes, socks, and robe already soaked from burning paper. The fact that the Prince of Beiliang was walking on the stone slabs of a Beimang city to kill thirty-one cavalry, including the City Magistrate, seemed a bit chilling, much like the dreadful weather that made one instinctively shrink their neck and curse.

After the Fish-Dragon Gang delivered the goods, at great cost, to Wei Feng, their job was essentially done. However, they had stayed until today, having agreed to leave the city only in the afternoon. For the past few days, Wei Feng had simply played the host, arranging for several stewards to guide these unsophisticated gang members, who had never seen much of the world, in experiencing the pleasures of the "land of tenderness." This expense alone amounted to over three thousand silver taels, an astonishingly lavish sum in the eyes of the Fish-Dragon Gang. Even they felt a bit ashamed after indulging in eating, drinking, gambling, and prostitution. Only Liu Nirong, who had swallowed a bitter pill and couldn't speak of her sorrow, remained silent, not mentioning the death of guest consultant Gongsun Yang to anyone.

The young Wang Dashi was the only "idiot" who consistently stayed at the Wei mansion, doing nothing but practicing his punches and reciting incantations. The day before yesterday, Young Master Xu taught him a sword technique, but unfortunately, he couldn't grasp it at all; it didn't even resemble the original form, let alone its essence. Fortunately, Young Master Xu seemed to be a strange master who preferred slow students to clever ones, so Wang Dashi felt no pressure. Since Young Master Xu had kindly offered to teach him, he simply learned diligently. He only knew the move was called "Three Jin" (Three Catties). Just hearing the name, Wang Dashi felt quite fond of it, finding it approachable, unlike the intimidating gimmicks of the masters in the Fish-Dragon Gang, who constantly talked about "Myriad Swords Returning to the Origin," "Dragon-Slaying Tiger-Killing Blade," or "Invincible Whirlwind Kick." Who were they trying to scare? Wang Dashi didn't even believe these moves had much power.

Xu Fengnian stopped, turned, and calmly looked at the unexpected arrival, asking, "Are you going to pay respects at Gongsun Yang's grave?"

Liu Nirong, with a sorrowful and haggard face, nodded, then said gravely, word by word, "And also, to stop you from going to the grave."

Xu Fengnian shook his head, "I'll just walk around the city. I won't go to Gongsun Yang's grave or say anything; indeed, there's nothing to say. Miss Liu, you worry too much."

Liu Nirong strode forward, leaving Xu Fengnian far behind. These new adversaries, whose fates were intertwined, left the city one after another: Liu Nirong headed southwest, while Xu Fengnian walked southeast. The rain poured down, the sky as dark as night, and the official road was a difficult, muddy path. Xu Fengnian's boots were caked with yellow mud. He walked unhurriedly for the time it takes three incense sticks to burn, without encountering a single tomb-sweeper. Xu Fengnian exhaled a puff of mist, snapped his umbrella shut, letting the pea-sized raindrops pelt him, and began to sprint. He didn't run straight along the official road but in a very wide circle. Each time his toes struck the ground, a muddy hole erupted, splashing countless water droplets. If an ordinary person had observed, they would only have seen a fleeting blue blur, leaving a trail of water puddles, each six zhang (approximately 20 meters) apart, blooming like lotus flowers, much like a stone skipping broadly across a lake.

City Magistrate Tao Qianzhi arrived at a solitary grave. Inside lay a comrade from the Guisai border army, who held no notable official rank and was merely a corporal when he fell in battle. This old fellow had joined the border infantry camp at sixteen, serving for over thirty years. It took him two years, relying on a lucky kill of a Beiliang cavalryman, to be promoted to corporal. Then he spent over twenty years languishing in that position, going back and forth on battlefields, never really killing many people. Yet, strangely, despite dealing with death in a hail of spears and arrows for all those years, he stubbornly didn't die. The old corporal had commanded only a dozen or so rascals in his life, and now only four of them remained alive. Tao Qianzhi was one, who transitioned from infantry to cavalry and rose steadily to become a Bloody General; another became a Fifth-Rank infantry commander; one became one of the few excellent scouts in the Guisai border army; and the last one held an even more prominent position than Tao Qianzhi, seemingly poised to become a pillar of the Beimang royal court. The old corporal was greedy for life and afraid of death. What he taught these new recruits wasn't how to bravely kill enemies, but how to fight while being afraid of death—for instance, how to feign death flawlessly, how to steal valuables from corpses, or how to claim enemy heads for military merits. Yet, this old veteran, who was about to receive a pension and retire, died in an unannounced skirmish, blocking a vicious Beiliang saber for a subordinate. His entire back was slashed open. The soft armor worn by this ordinary Beimang border infantryman was useless against the incomparably sharp Beiliang saber. Tao Qianzhi and his few peers were young at the time, holding the dying old corporal, not understanding why the old drunkard kept saying it was better to die on the battlefield so they wouldn't need a coffin. Before he died, the old corporal rambled, not with any sense of courage, but simply in great pain, shedding tears and snot. His last words were, "It really f*cking hurts."

Thirty elite personal guards, brought from Guisai, dismounted in unison and stood at a distance. Two of them took out their respective backpacks: one produced several bottles of fine wine that the general had specifically bought at great expense, nothing else but wine; the other brought out a large stack of paper money wrapped in oiled paper. After handing these, along with a tinderbox, to the general, they opened an umbrella to shield him from the wind and rain.

Tao Qianzhi crouched by the grave, smashing one wine bottle with a punch. Six or seven bottles of expensive liquor, imported into Beimang from the Jiangnan Road of the Liyang Dynasty, flowed freely, seeping into the muddy ground before the grave along with the rainwater. Tao Qianzhi flicked his military-issue tinderbox, lit the yellow paper, and muttered to himself, "Old man, you didn't have much ability, but you personally taught us brothers how to stay alive. If you hadn't said your own military merits were useless back then and given those two heads to Dong Zhuo, that fellow would never have achieved his current glory. And if you hadn't ultimately blocked a saber for me, I wouldn't have been able to get you this good wine. That fat Dong Zhuo is as stubborn as a stone in a latrine pit, with a stinky temper. He let it slip when we were drinking that he wouldn't dare face an old man like you, who cares so much about face, until he became a Governor. I don't think as much as him. Since I'm in Liuxia City, it would be unforgivable not to bring you a few bottles of the fine wine you coveted your whole life for Qingming. You old man were so petty; stealing your wine back then was like stealing your wife. Oh, I forgot, you were a bachelor your whole life. If you were alive today, old man, just tell me who you've set your eyes on, and Fat Dong Zhuo and I, who aren't afraid of the King of Heaven himself, would snatch her for you." Tao Qianzhi held the fiercely burning yellow paper in his hand, completely ignoring the searing pain, and whispered, "Before coming to sweep your tomb, I killed a Beiliang armored soldier. I personally used a Beiliang saber to sever his limbs. Knowing you're a coward and worried you wouldn't sleep soundly, I didn't bring him to the grave to disturb you. Old man, to tell you the truth, we only thought the Beiliang cavalry were invincible when we were young, mostly because you scared us. Every time before battle, just hearing the hooves, we'd see you shaking, your legs trembling, making me and Fat Dong Zhuo and the others terrified too. Now that I've killed many Beiliang people, it's really nothing special. When I came to Liuxia City, I brought four cages of Beiliang soldiers, and many of them knelt and begged for mercy like dogs, some even drawing their blades against their comrades to save their own lives, acting worse than dogs." Once a handful of yellow paper had burned to ash, Tao Qianzhi clapped his hands, scattering the remnants, and slowly stood up, saying, "I won't delay your drinking."

The thirty-one riders silently mounted their horses. The loyal cavalry officer, a former scout, galloped over. After approaching Tao Qianzhi, he said gravely, "General, there's nothing unusual within a three-li radius."

Tao Qianzhi nodded and smiled, "I thought those maggots from the imperial 'sauce jar' who went to Guisai to cheat for military merits would seize the opportunity of my demotion to come and loudly declare they'd 'beat a dog when it's down.' It seems I overestimated their courage."

The officer sneered coldly, "A cowardly general breeds a cowardly army. What brave warriors or fierce soldiers can these 'embroidered pillows' wearing silver armor and silver sabers produce? A hundred of their cavalry wouldn't even be enough to pick our teeth with."

Tao Qianzhi looked up at the gloomy sky. There was no sign of the rain weakening. He then calmly withdrew his gaze and said, "Return to the city."

Thunder, rain, and the sound of hooves.

Rider after rider, they galloped out of the muddy path, two to three li long, from the graveside, about to turn onto the main official road. Tao Qianzhi's pupils contracted, and a sinister, fierce glint flashed in his eyes. He raised his hand, and the thirty riders behind him instantly halted. The official road usually allowed four riders abreast, but after the heavy rain, it was full of potholes. Three riders abreast was already the limit. For cavalry to achieve maximum charge effect, allowing space for the standard saber's swing in mounted combat, two riders abreast was optimal. On the splash-filled official road, a young man with a saber stood holding an umbrella.

The cavalry officer, skilled in scouting and combat, could not possibly have surveyed every blade of grass within a three-li radius in such a short time, especially with the heavy rain obliterating tracks. He could only confirm the presence or absence of groups of around ten people. Addressing this solitary figure blocking the road, the knight, a sixth-rank Beimang officer, roared, "Who are you?!"

The man with the saber said nothing; he simply slowly closed his umbrella and thrust its tip into the muddy ground beside him.

True to his nature as a decisive military general, Tao Qianzhi's lips twitched upon seeing the young man's action. He calmly ordered, "Two squads, charge. No quarter."

Two riders charged out abreast. The horses beneath them were robust, fine steeds well-versed in border warfare. As they galloped, they displayed a dynamic visual beauty, their manes, soaked by the rain, trembling with their rhythmic muscles. For a moment, the sound of their hooves even drowned out the rain. Two drawn saber-like knives, clear as snow, had blades wider and thicker than Beiliang sabers, similar in length, slightly less sharp, and more curved. Experienced elite soldiers naturally coordinated their saber strikes with their mount's speed and the jolt and sway of the horse's back caused by the road conditions. The two cavalrymen, with thick arms, were originally brave Guisai border army lancers. Their saber strikes were overbearing. If they weren't elite, they wouldn't have been qualified to be Tao Qianzhi's armored personal guards in Liuxia City.

Two tall warhorses and two saber-like knives attacked simultaneously. The young man caught between them did not move his feet; his body spun like a top, carving an arc. He leaned back towards the warhorse whose strike missed, took a step back with his right foot, pressed his back against the side of the charging warhorse, and then with a crashing sound, sent the horse and rider, weighing nearly two thousand jin (approximately 1,000 kg), flying sideways. All four hooves hung suspended in the air before they heavily crashed down six or seven zhang (approximately 20-23 meters) away, the rider on its back instantly falling unconscious. After bracing against one horse, leveraging the resulting rebound, the young saber-wielder lunged forward, taking a few lightning-fast steps, and slammed his fists onto the muscled hindquarters of the second warhorse. Blood immediately spattered, and the warhorse howled, spinning half a circle in the air before landing in the mud off the official road. The cavalryman, truly fierce, bounced off his horse and slid a significant distance in the mud. He wiped his face, which was contorted in a grimace.

The remaining eight riders, who had split into two charging columns, saw their two leading cavalrymen, undeterred by the saber-wielder's ruthless methods, once again coordinate their saber strikes with their comrades, relying on their seasoned battlefield experience.

The young man did not retreat but advanced, his figure like a swimming fish, gliding through the rain curtain. He ducked under a saber slash, ignored the cavalryman who charged past on his right, and with his left hand, latched onto the arm of another rider. His feet were carried off the ground by the warhorse's forward momentum, and he smoothly vaulted onto the horse, settling behind the cavalryman. He pressed both hands onto the cavalryman's head, twisted it, and killed him. Like a coiling snake, he clung to the corpse's chest, then with a backward twist, sent the 140-150 jin (approximately 70-75 kg) corpse hurtling backward. It coincidentally struck the head of the cavalryman's horse charging behind them, shattering the skull of the fine steed that had fought with its master for many years. Its front hooves bent, plunging into the mud. The cavalryman tumbled several times. The fourth rider in this column, skilled in horsemanship, not only evaded the fatally fallen warhorse but also bent down and extended a hand to pull up his comrade in front. The latter, without hesitation, leaped onto the horse. The two shared one mount and continued their fearless pursuit. This clearly demonstrated the courage and combat prowess of Beimang soldiers.

Though on horseback, the saber-wielder had no intention of engaging in mounted combat with the Liuxia City cavalry. His mount suddenly neighed in agony, its four legs seemingly crushed by a colossal weight. The saber-wielder on its back sprang into the air like a hawk, twisting in mid-air to diagonally strike at a horse carrying two men. The two cavalrymen only saw a shadow sweep over their heads. Two heads were severed by a single leg sweep, torn from their bodies, and rolled into the distant yellow mud. The handsome saber-wielder, who had not once drawn his blade, stood on the still-galloping horse's back. With a single toe-tap, his body shot like an arrow from a bowstring towards another cavalryman. In several swift movements, each time a leg kick to the chest lethally contorted the armored cavalryman. Each time, man and horse were separated, their internal organs utterly shattered. Of the ten riders, only the second cavalryman was not killed; all the others were dead.

The terrified officer whispered, "General, should we send someone to the city for reinforcements?"

Tao Qianzhi nodded, leaned down to pat his horse's head, and calmly said, "All twenty of you cavalry disperse and return to the city. You don't need to worry about me."

The officer's eyes reddened, and he hoarsely called out, "General!"

Tao Qianzhi laughed, "It's not that easy to die. And I wouldn't want to die here either." After Tao Qianzhi finished speaking, he straightened his face and coldly ordered, "Hear my command: return to the city!" After a brief hesitation, the twenty cavalrymen, recognizing the absolute authority of the military order, regretfully spurred their horses and departed.

The young saber-wielder did not stop them. He leaped from the horse's back onto the official road, clearly, this Qingming day, he was only targeting Tao Qianzhi.

Tao Qianzhi sat tall on his pale gold Akhal-Teke horse, one hand gripping the reins, the other holding his saber, his demeanor composed. He asked in a booming voice, "Has that whelp Murong Zhangtai sent you to assassinate me?"

The assassin standing on the road said nothing, simply walking towards the City Magistrate of Liuxia City.

Tao Qianzhi sneered, "Could it be Princess Hongyan's new kept man? How did that little girl's taste improve so much all of a sudden? Interesting."

Tao Qianzhi, clad in exquisite black armor, dismounted. He patted his mount's neck, and the intelligent Akhal-Teke horse reluctantly trotted away, whinnying and pacing restlessly at a distance of over ten zhang, its hooves tapping impatiently. The burly Tao Qianzhi seemed to know that this assassin would reveal nothing. He stopped talking nonsense. The moment he drew his saber, killing intent permeated the surroundings. The two rushed towards each other, and the official road immediately became fraught with danger, the atmosphere far surpassing that of the young assassin's earlier clash with the ten cavalrymen.

Tao Qianzhi's saber techniques were simple and direct, killer moves honed throughout his military career, without any unnecessary flourish. The two collided with a roar, destined to leave one corpse behind. The saber slashed down onto the short knife sheath. The saber clearly had no hope of killing with a single strike, having stored seven or eight tenths of its power. Thus, the blade slid down, swift and unparalleled, thrusting towards the young saber-wielder's abdomen. The latter did not draw his saber but only held its sheath to block, not looking at the blade tip that was about to touch his belly. With a twist of his right wrist, the sheathed short knife actually flew from his hand, spinning into a perfect circle before him, without the slightest gap. The torrential raindrops, upon hitting this circle, were fiercely deflected. Tao Qianzhi squinted. His saber tip did not retreat; he suddenly exerted force, attempting to pierce this circle, which at most had the thickness of a knife sheath. The tip of the saber and the ancient knife sheath rubbed against each other, emitting a grinding sound of metal and stone that pierced the eardrums.

Tao Qianzhi's strength surged in layers, his vital energy erupting like a spring. In an instant, he repeatedly augmented his arm strength, and a brilliant white light bloomed from his saber tip. The young assassin's body retreated. Without seemingly touching the knife sheath, he was drawn backward. His right hand made a subtle diagonal sweep, and the dislodged knife sheath spun rapidly around the saber tip like a venomous snake, then climbed upward, poised to chop at Tao Qianzhi's saber-wielding wrist. Tao Qianzhi slightly pulled back his hand and snorted coldly, "Where did you learn such unconventional saber techniques? Mere parlor tricks!" The cavalry general, renowned in Guisai for his mounted combat, felt both sleeves billow. His saber successfully parried the strangely continuously spinning knife sheath. Seeing that his opponent was now unarmed, the saber's light intensified, poised to pierce the silent assassin's chest. However, when Tao Qianzhi saw the assassin's right arm perform a pulling and then retracting motion, he became wary. He used the "Thousand Jin Drop" technique, sinking his feet deep into the mud, and barely ducked, avoiding the sheath that would have sliced his head. Having narrowly escaped, Tao Qianzhi pulled his feet out, splashing a large amount of mud towards the young saber-wielder, whose strange techniques seemed endless. He gripped his saber with both hands, leaned his sturdy body forward, and charged, man and saber, with powerful momentum. The knife sheath, having missed Tao Qianzhi's neck, did not fall to the ground. Instead, it spun like a swallow in the air, reached the assassin's left hand, was flicked by a finger, touched only for an instant before leaving his hand again, and darted up to stab at Tao Qianzhi.

A somewhat frustrated Tao Qianzhi twisted his saber, his body rolling with it, coming to a stop at the side of the official road. He stared intently at the assassin who could precisely wield a knife sheath to kill with a mere flick of his finger, and sneered, "It's a 'detached blade' technique, a mere street performer's trick! Let's see how long you can keep that up!"

The knife sheath circled like a spiritual swallow around a beam; each flick of the saber-wielder's finger kept it perpetually spinning. Neither side gave the other a moment to rest. Tao Qianzhi moved with his saber, its white glint like a firefly. The sheath spun like a swallow, constantly clashing with the saber. In comparison, the murderous Tao Qianzhi was already enraged, his saber movements terrifyingly forceful. The assassin, who was none other than the Prince of Beiliang, was far more at ease. On the official road, he integrated the "detached sword" technique, secretly learned from Xiao Qiang outside Daoma Pass, with the "three bows" of the Fish-Dragon Gang's master, moving leisurely and deliberately, showcasing a master's confident and imposing demeanor.

The old man in the sheepskin cloak once made an Immortal kneel with an umbrella.

The sheathed Chunlei (Spring Thunder) finally returned to Xu Fengnian's right hand. Tao Qianzhi knelt on one knee, his Beimang saber plunged into the ground, and thick blood flowed from his wrist, sliding down the blade. His black armor was completely shattered, his entire body a bloody mess, with some wounds even deep enough to expose bone. Tao Qianzhi looked up, gritting his teeth and smiling, "Boy, aren't you going to draw your saber for me?"

Xu Fengnian thought for a moment, then a cruel smile twisted his lips. He then tirelessly performed the "Rolling Dragon Wall of Sword Qi" ten times over. After three repetitions, Tao Qianzhi's black armor was completely destroyed. After six repetitions, only his saber-gripping right arm remained somewhat intact. After ten repetitions of the "Rolling Dragon Wall of Sword Qi," Tao Qianzhi was already completely mangled, kneeling on both knees, hands pressed onto the hilt of his saber, dead but still upright. Xu Fengnian slowly walked forward, mercilessly striking him flying with the Chunlei saber sheath. The Akhal-Teke horse galloped over. Xu Fengnian, with a cruel grin, turned sideways, lightly leaped, wrapped his arms around the horse's neck, bent his knees, leaned his body back, and with that momentum, flipped the entire warhorse over. It crashed onto the official road with a thud, its entire back broken, and died on the spot. From beginning to end, Xu Fengnian did not exchange a single superfluous word with this Beimang City Magistrate, who should have had a promising future.

Xu Fengnian stood up, letting the rain wash away the mud from his back. He re-hung the Chunlei saber, took out his umbrella, and facing the direction of Beiliang, drew out the handful of yellow paper he had intentionally left over at the Wei mansion's wall, scattering it lightly into the air.