Chapter 244: Chaos's Little Ballad

With the slender-waisted female warrior escorting him, Xu Fengnian finally reached the second floor without incident after paying the deposit. The inn's proprietress, who exuded an exceptionally composed demeanor, personally brought a basin of well water, placed it on a stand, and departed with a smile. Xu Fengnian washed his face; since his "face" dared to claim to be deeply rooted, ordinary washing didn't bother him. The basin of well water was already cloudy. Feeling refreshed, Xu Fengnian pushed open the window. He glanced at the wine bowls and tea set on the table, noticing they were expensive craftsmanship from Jiangnan, featuring vibrant tri-color glazes (yellow, purple, green). No wonder the inn dared to demand a fifty-tael deposit. The Duck Head Green Inn was booming with business, so it likely wasn't a "black inn" that used human flesh for buns. Observing the proprietress's casual banter with the martial arts heroes while going upstairs, it was clear she had many repeat customers, which brought Xu Fengnian a sense of relief. He wasn't averse to fighting and killing, but if it was just for money between strangers, it was truly uninteresting. After all the effort to wander the jianghu, who would want to drown in it?

Six dining tables were set in the courtyard, occupied by more than twenty people, most of whom were bare-chested with abundant chest hair. Their pectoral muscles, more impressive than a woman's bosom, flexed and quivered as they ate and drank, yet these stout fellows maintained surprising appetites. Crude and inferior knives, swords, and axes lay haphazardly on the tables; good quality weapons were rare. Copper and iron were scarce in Beiman, and Beiliang's controls were strict, requiring meticulous registration even for a hoe when crossing the border. Swordsmen and adventurers from the Liyang Dynasty usually carried handy and superior weapons for their travels, though their horses might be significantly inferior to those in Beiman. Beiman's pastures were far superior for raising horses, making it easier to breed warhorses for military use. The eight-state governments also kept a close watch, but for wealthy and powerful individuals, acquiring a horse or two at great expense for show was not difficult. Xu Fengnian paid little attention to the boorish men in the courtyard, who cursed and spoke obscenely. Instead, several tables of relatively taciturn diners in the inn's first-floor lobby seemed less straightforward. Among them, two adjacent tables in a corner were occupied by robust individuals, most of whom carried the fierce, courageous aura of soldiers, an aura Xu Fengnian was familiar with. They gathered around a white-haired elder with a striking red mole between his brows, who exuded a composed demeanor.

A dashing, uninhibited swordsman in white occupied a table alone, leisurely sipping wine. His white scabbard was wrapped in silver threads, and his sword tassel was golden, making it very striking and eye-catching. Jianghu seniors often earnestly advised against showing off wealth, but this swordsman did the opposite, surely having some confidence or backing.

At another table sat a young mother and her small daughter, elegantly dressed in silk, who stood out remarkably in the mixed company of the Duck Head Green Inn, appearing unsullied by their surroundings. The child had red lips and white teeth, and her features were seven or eight parts similar to her mother's. As Xu Fengnian went upstairs, he caught a glimpse of the child standing innocently on a bench, asking her mother for this and that. The melon-faced young mother seemed burdened with thoughts, her face pale, forcing a smile to appease her child's coaxing.

Xu Fengnian had no intention of going out to find food. He exhaled a turbid breath, then covered his ears with his hands, placed his fingers behind his head, stacking his index finger over his middle finger, then slid down and lightly flicked the back of his head twenty-four times, tapping various vital acupoints like Fengfu, Fengchi, and Yaman. This was the "Double Heavenly Drums and Immersed Heavenly Water" technique from the Great Huangting scripture. Inside his body, sword qi surged like a rolling dragon wall. It was akin to being in "deep waters and raging fires," yet incredibly "pleasant" and invigorating.

After the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, he heard the sounds of a door opening and closing next door. Judging by the lightness of the footsteps, it was undoubtedly the mother and daughter. Xu Fengnian ceased his breathing exercises, took off his outer robe, and sat cross-legged on the bed, flipping through a blade manual. The sixth page depicted the incomparably domineering "Sword Qi Opening Shu Style," while the seventh page showed the "Swimming Fish Style," characterized by its continuous flow. According to sparse annotations, it was likely inspired by Wang Xianzhi's experience of catching fish in a stream when he was young, combining the essence of a sword master who had turned back after breaking his sword in Martial Emperor City. It moved like a fish frolicking in water, yet also like the continuous, unending stretches of green mountains, maintaining a single, inexhaustible surge of power. Unfortunately, this style had a needle hidden in velvet, being subtle yet malicious. Xu Fengnian couldn't grasp its essence for a while. He sighed, lay back, closed his eyes, and focused his mind. The Great Huangting was a supreme Daoist mental cultivation method. For the past two years, Xu Fengnian had been forced into a life of asceticism, euphemistically called "Sealing the Golden Coffer," which was enough to drive one mad. If word got out, Li Hanlin would die laughing.

Xu Fengnian lightly flicked the scabbard of his Spring Thunder blade. From next door, he heard the light, tinkling sounds of tapping, and a child's unique tender voice, singing a Beiman nursery rhyme, drifting softly into his ears with a unique charm: "Green grass will grow next year, wild geese will leave and return. The spring wind blows this year, will the young lord come back or not? Green grass on bluestone slabs, a young man in green on a bluestone bridge, humming a Jinling tune, whose daughter lowers her head and smiles..."

Xu Fengnian listened comfortably, a smile playing on his lips, his ears perked up for the song. But good times don't last; a sudden violent sound of hooves approached, shaking even the inn. The tinkling stopped, and the song ceased. Xu Fengnian sat up and went to the window, seeing nearly a hundred armored cavalrymen swarming through the swirling dust. At their head, a young man in a white robe rode a magnificent black steed, a King of Wild Horses. He rode directly through the inn's courtyard gate, smashing it open. Apart from five or six riders who followed him into the courtyard, all the other light cavalry, armed with Beiman sabers and quivers, stopped outside the inn. Dust rose everywhere. The cavalry and their warhorses moved as one, and this tacit, solemn stillness was far more suffocating than shouts or provocations. Xu Fengnian glanced at the princely scion on the black horse, holding an iron spear, adorned with a jade buckle and a Xianbei-style headdress. However, he was a rank lower than the woman with the sable-covered forehead.

Xu Fengnian directly closed the window, following the "out of sight, out of mind" principle. Since there was no nursery rhyme to listen to, and he didn't want to struggle with the blade manual that seemed to have come to him effortlessly, Xu Fengnian released his flying sword, Peach Blossom, from his sleeve. It hovered in the air as he calmly held his breath and performed the "Shaking Green Lotus" technique, manipulating the miniature short sword to fly around the room, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, like a playful child flying a kite, greatly enjoying himself.

If this were the Liyang Dynasty, where martial arts heroes were often beheaded and their heads displayed in the jianghu, ordinary martial artists would have had their courage shattered by cavalry long ago. Unexpectedly, in Longyao Province of Beiman, the men at those tables in the courtyard, despite knowing there were a hundred elite light cavalry outside and seeing this imposing princely scion, not only did not avoid his sharp edge, but as soon as one strong man grabbed his blade and stood up, they immediately seemed poised to revolt. Those with sabers drew them, those with swords unsheathed them, those with axes raised them. In an instant, without even a polite exchange of greetings, over twenty people charged forward. Six or seven cavalrymen remained calm in the face of danger. Two riders guarded the richly dressed, fiery-spirited young master, while the remaining warhorses retreated, and the riders simultaneously drew their bows and fired arrows. The first volley of arrows precisely embedded themselves in the foreheads of several men, their fletchings still quivering slightly. These men, spurred by their fierce spirit, did not retreat; instead, they became even more fearlessly defiant. Two riders pulled their reins, and their warhorses suddenly reared up, then stomped down heavily, crushing the chests of two men who had approached them closely. However, one cavalryman was immediately stabbed in the armpit by a jianghu fighter who seized an opening and lunged forward, and then had his head severed by a discarded axe. The flying axe continued towards the aristocratic young master on the black horse, but he casually flicked it away with two fingers, a look of disdain on his face. The situation for another cavalryman was even more tragic: his warhorse's front legs were severed. Fortunately, he wore armor, which withstood several blades and swords, preventing him from becoming a pincushion, but he still couldn't escape death. As his warhorse collapsed, his head was also severed by a sword. This bloody battle, to outsiders, would naturally seem to have erupted inexplicably, but the truly gruesome scenes were yet to come.

In the courtyard, the aristocratic young master, sitting still as a mountain on his black horse, wielded his iron spear like a torrential rain. Each thrust and pull brought forth a gush of blood piercing through an enemy's body. Some exasperatedly thrown axes were skillfully deflected by him. After the second powerful volley from the cavalry behind him claimed five or six more lives, they expressionlessly drew their Beiman sabers and charged forward, engaging in a fierce struggle with the jianghu rabble. Immediately afterward, dozens of people surged from the second and third floors of the inn. Dozens of grappling hooks appeared on the mud-brick courtyard walls, and when warhorses turned and galloped, pulling them, three sides of the walls instantly collapsed with a crash, leaving no trace of the quadrangle courtyard. The black horse fought and retreated. The young master, who was certainly no mere ornamental figure, seemed to have had his fill of killing. With a relaxed and contented expression, he and his mount exited the courtyard. Several jianghu heroes, eyes bloodshot from battle, disregarded the arrows embedded in their bodies and roared as they rushed out of the courtyard. But as soon as they darted through the gate, they were instantly cut down by a rain of arrows. One man cleverly rolled forward, raising his hand to maim the black horse's hooves, but the white-robed young master stabbed him in the back of the neck with a spear, plunging it down fiercely, pinning him to the muddy ground. This scion, who possessed a delicate, refined face, twisted the iron spear with a sneer, flipping the corpse over. The spear still did not spare the body, mangling the man's face. He was ruthless in mind and even more vicious in action.

Xu Fengnian heard footsteps, put away his flying sword Peach Blossom. After getting up, he heard a knock at the door; it was the inn proprietress. The female warrior entered the room, carrying a plate with a roasted lamb leg and some snacks for idle munching. She smiled apologetically: "I apologize for disturbing you, young master. The truth is, all the other rooms are occupied by guests who want to kill each other, and most of them are old acquaintances with whom I've done business. As the proprietress, I don't have the nerve to find a place to watch the show. So, I shamelessly came to you. Consider this lamb leg my gift to you. How about I stand by the window for a while?"

Xu Fengnian nodded and smiled: "I appreciate your kindness, proprietress. Your presence here is truly a protective charm that keeps me out of trouble. This roasted lamb leg cannot be accepted for free. I should pay whatever it costs; only then can I stay with a clear conscience."

A hint of surprise flickered in the female warrior's eyes; she seemed not to have expected this unfamiliar guest to see through her spontaneous act of kindness. After setting down the tray, she picked up some snacks and walked to the window, casually explaining while cracking melon seeds: "Young master, you might not know this, but Duck Head Green Inn has been in business for over twenty years. Countless people come and go, and there are always some fights and skirmishes, but Duck Head Green never interferes. Guests are guests; as long as they pay enough silver, they can stay, eat, drink, and frequent the prostitutes. As for being sought out by enemies or engaging in private duels within the inn, whether they leave alive is up to fate. Duck Head Green always has coffins on hand. When the time comes, you can lie in one and wait for your relatives to collect your body. If you don't have any relatives, Duck Head Green will help bury you, so you don't have to fear becoming a lonely ghost. This is also why our business thrives here. This kind of battle between soldiers and bandits isn't new. A few years ago, there were even fiercer disturbances. The inn wasn't originally this quadrangle courtyard; that time, it was completely destroyed. My husband, who happens to have a bit of a half-baked scholar's spirit, tinkered with it and rebuilt it into its current form. Don't worry, young master. In Beiman, when it comes to grudges, we follow a principle: harm does not extend to bystanders. This is called 'poor etiquette' or 'reckless etiquette,' but it's an old rule of the road. Only true devils dare to disregard it."

Xu Fengnian tore off a piece of lean lamb, put it in his mouth, chewed it slowly, and asked curiously: "It's such a mess, a hundred cavalry against fifty or sixty jianghu people, and they still observe rules?"

The proprietress cracked melon seeds with astonishing speed, leaned against the window frame, and turned her head to smile: "Of course, they observe rules! If they didn't, they'd be devils, wouldn't they? In Beiman, everyone wants to be a devil, but not just anyone can be one. Take my man, for instance. He's always rambling that if I ever dare to cheat on him, he'll become a devil."

Xu Fengnian was speechless, not even daring to glance at the proprietress's slender waist, for fear of being considered disrespectful.

The proprietress seemed unable to keep secrets, speaking as if pouring beans from a bamboo tube: "The one on the black horse is Murong Jiangshen. He's a bit removed from the direct imperial family, but in Longyao Province, he's considered a top-tier young master. His cousin in Gousai Province, Murong Zhangtai, has a purer lineage. We common folk only know that Tao Qianzhi, the city governor of Liuxia City, died for no reason on the Qingming Festival. And now his wife and daughter have rushed here. Everyone says Murong Zhangtai coveted General Tao's young wife, which is why he acted so ruthlessly. We can't see through the intrigues of these powerful figures; we just watch the spectacle. Most of the big men in the inn have no connection to Tao Qianzhi, but they felt that General Chongshe, who kills Beiliang people every day, was a spirited man. They heard Murong Zhangtai wanted to seize the wife, dealing unjustly with an orphan and a widow. Somehow, they got fired up and gathered, saying they'd teach this young master a lesson. I think it's all because they have no women to relieve their urges; they're so idle they could keep birds in their pants. Of course, some were certainly hired by Tao Qianzhi's old subordinates. Even if these Murong Zhangtai aristocrats are no good, they still have dozens of Beiman sabers and dozens of warhorses, don't they? And today, he brought a hundred cavalrymen. However, it's still hard to say who will win. I'm sure you, young master, have also guessed the identity of the mother and daughter next door. They also have a group of Tao Qianzhi's loyal former subordinates around them, especially that old fellow with the red mole between his brows; he's no weaker than Murong Jiangshen, who wields the iron spear."

Xu Fengnian came to the window and saw blood flowing like a river outside. He sighed inwardly, thinking, "Is this the jianghu of Beiman?" Moreover, listening to the proprietress's tone, she seemed quite dismissive of Murong Jiangshen, who led the charge. Yet, if this were the Liyang Dynasty, a young master who could charm a beauty in bed and kill enemies on horseback with a laugh would be incredibly rare and long considered a rising hero with a promising future. In Beiman, however, he was just a common aristocratic scion? Xu Fengnian frowned. Furthermore, in the Liyang Dynasty, jianghu feuds could also be fierce and tragic. But to say that people would risk their lives purely for the widow of a well-reputed general, without any sworn vendetta, was simply inconceivable.

Outside the inn, Murong Jiangshen laughed loudly: "Whoever can withstand ten rounds under my spear, ask for official position, gold, or women — name your price!"

Curses erupted all around.

"You little bastard, your mother said it was too big under my crotch last night. Come on, call me 'Dad'!"

No sooner had he spoken than he was shot dead by an arrow.

"Murong little melon-head, stick out your butt! I haven't touched a woman in days, and you look so tender-skinned..."

The man did not finish speaking before Murong Jiangshen, with an unperturbed expression, hurled his iron spear, which pierced straight through his skull.

More than half of the hundred cavalry were dead. As for the jianghu people, apart from those who saw the unfavorable situation and fled midway, and those who retreated into the inn, almost all were either dead or wounded. Murong Jiangshen rode forward, bending down to pull out his iron spear, stabbing to death those who were still drawing breath, one by one. Then he waved, signaling the remaining twenty cavalrymen to finish off the rest. He then re-entered the courtyard with only about ten riders, laughing: "Old scoundrel Sui Song, come out and die with your personal guards!"

Xu Fengnian muttered, "It really is different."