Chapter 261: Number One Figures of Talent and Character

Upon first hearing that the man named Dong intended to seal Feihu City, the people were so incensed they wished to flay the fat official. However, it was much ado about nothing; the city reopened shortly thereafter. The common folk believed that Young Master Tantai had gained the upper hand in a secret power struggle with Fatty Dong, making them even more skeptical of the rumor that Tantai Changping was forced to dismount his horse at the city gate by a woman.

Xu Fengnian was not in a hurry to leave the city. Instead, he ascended the city wall to gaze at the Hanging Sword Pavilion from afar, which soldiers with spears were forbidden to approach. Due to Tao Manwu, his premature entanglement with Dong Zhuo had disrupted his plans. A hasty departure from the city was clearly unwise, but staying within the city, merely putting on a brave face, would make it easier to give his adversaries leverage. Xu Xiao's directive for him to find the former Beiliang general had to be temporarily set aside. Choosing the lesser of two evils, he found himself chuckling at his own predicament, though a sense of regret lingered.

Just as Xu Fengnian was about to descend the wall, a dishevelled man, who had been snoring while sunbathing on the battlements, mumbled a few words and rolled sideways, nearly tumbling off the city wall. Fortunately, he fell inwards, so Xu Fengnian did not intervene. The first thing the awakened drunkard did was not to be grateful for his escape, but to carefully caress the wine gourd hanging from his waist. Only then did he look up, bewildered, seeing Xu Fengnian, a stranger, without reaction. The bearded drunkard leaned against the wall, took a swig of strong liquor, and hummed a tune in the Beiliang dialect, "Overlord Removes His Armor," completely at ease. A tall but stooping man, dressed as a servant, scurried up the city wall, carrying a pot of wine. He paused as he passed Xu Fengnian, then silently refilled his master's nearly empty old wine gourd with new wine. The servant had a squint. The half-drunk, half-awake man pulled a dagger with a pearl-inlaid hilt from his embrace and began to shave his beard, all the while glancing sideways at Xu Fengnian. He then pointed a hand towards the Hanging Sword Pavilion and grumbled, "Young lad, what are you looking at? Back in the day, I brought two swords to Feihu City. One, 'Candle Dragon,' hangs in that pavilion. The other I sold to the City Magistrate's residence for a thousand taels of gold. Why are you looking at me like I'm just some drunkard?"

The servant was a mute. Seeing his master's mouth movements, he knew trouble was brewing again and quickly turned to bow in apology to Xu Fengnian. Xu Fengnian smiled. When the drunkard finished shaving his beard, Xu Fengnian squinted slightly. No wonder this man, who sold swords and painted, could sleep soundly for years on top of the Fengbo Tower; if he had been well-dressed back then, he must have been a dashing and romantic figure. When something unusual happens, there must be a reason. Xu Fengnian's expression remained unchanged as he calmly surveyed this "brothel scholar" whom even a radiant woman like Xiyi couldn't forget. The drunkard put away his dagger, sighed deeply, "I did not betray my art, but my art betrayed me," and took another gulp of strong liquor. Xu Fengnian had no time for pleasantries and asked directly, "Are you waiting for me?"

As if he had heard a joke, the drunkard glanced at his servant and burst out laughing, "Little brat, you talk big. I was sleeping comfortably here. It's more like you're looking for me."

Treating it as a last resort, Xu Fengnian calmly said, "Someone wants me to deliver a message. Understand it if you can, if not, just consider it drunk talk and let it go in one ear and out the other. Since these are your pawns, if they make a mess, you're the one who has to clean it up."

The man, whose face was still remarkably handsome after shaving, rolled his eyes and retorted, "Is there something wrong with your head, kid? When do I ever not clean myself after I shit? Go away, go away, you're bad luck. If you don't leave, my swordsmanship is still here. I'll just grab the Candle Dragon from the Hanging Sword Pavilion and send you to meet King Yama with one strike."

Xu Fengnian had sensed the flow of their *qi*; neither the master nor the servant could be considered reclusive masters. The drunkard was barely above average, and the squinting servant was even less skilled than an ordinary person, hardly worth mentioning. Xu Fengnian smiled, descended the city wall, led his inferior horse, and left Feihu City. Looking back, there was no drunkard, only the squinting servant standing there, stooped. The drunkard, still sitting on the ground against the wall, rubbed his stubbled face and mumbled to himself. Seeing no response, he looked up and saw his servant standing silently, gazing into the distance. The drunkard laughed at himself, "I forgot you're deaf and mute. Back then, I was chased by enemies, fleeing north to the border. If it weren't for seeing that you still had some money, I wouldn't have been willing to call us master and servant."

The drunkard asked lazily, "Why did you want me to sleep on this city wall today?"

A hoarse voice replied, "Even a cripple like me can sense the approach of sword *qi*. A swordsman of such a realm in Beimang must be someone like the Master of the Chess and Sword Academy."

The drunkard was so startled his limbs trembled. He asked, wide-eyed, "You can speak?"

The stooping servant still gazed into the distance, reaching out to touch his face. He said calmly, "I merely sealed my own orifices. It's the most profound 'Withered Sword' technique of my Wu family. I had an epiphany during a sword duel with Li Chungang back then. Furthermore, I was disheartened by the Grand General's refusal to become emperor, so I gave up hope and focused on practicing the Withered Sword. My Wu ancestors once broke through ten thousand cavalry with nine swords, and four broken swords were left in Beimang. I simply wanted to come here and see. Otherwise, with your mediocre swordsmanship, how could you have picked up a Fish-fly and a Candle Dragon? Do you think famous swords are so common that you can just pick up several in the marketplace?"

The drunkard stammered, "Who exactly are you?"

The servant's fingernails traced lines on his face, drawing blood, as if he loathed his own skin. He slowly said, "The Withered Sword inherently has no form. Wu Su became tainted by worldly thoughts. Even under the guise of entering the world, her sword intent was no longer pure. What she achieved in the imperial palace back then was merely a false realm, an illusion. Otherwise, how could she have suffered an incurable illness?"

"The Princess of Beiliang?!"

"My sister. My own sister. But I was never close to her since childhood; our relationship was not even as good as hers with Deng Tai'a, who barely survived on Sword Mountain back then. It's like my relationship with Chen Zhibao, far surpasses that with my nephew the Young Master. But no matter how distant, blood cannot be denied. For all these years, I've been waiting for the Grand General. I never imagined it would be my own nephew who came to Feihu City. Grand General, oh Grand General, you tried to appeal to reason, but don't you know that Wu Qi is the most unreasonable person in this life? And how do you know Chen Zhibao never looked for me? It's too late."

"You, don't kill me! I won't say anything!"

"Many a romantic, dies by romance."

That day, the scholar champion died drunk in the Hanging Sword Pavilion. The brothels across the city mourned, collectively funding a lavish burial for this legendary man who had captured the hearts of countless maidens. Even the charming middle-aged women, whose children had grown up, silently grieved in secret.

This is Beimang; Beiliang may be desolate, but its heart is not cold.

In recent years, the wars between Liang and Mang have not seen grand, sweeping battles, mostly involving small skirmishes between cavalry scouts. Beiliang's crossbow scouts have thus become the most coveted troop type. Being able to return to camp with a few enemy heads hanging from one's saddle is a sight that makes even seasoned veterans envious, let alone the hot-blooded new recruits. This is genuine military merit, not to be faked. While some scions on the eastern border might resort to killing civilians and falsely claiming them as Beimang barbarians, Beiliang's military law is severe, so such acts are absolutely forbidden. That day, a Beiliang crossbow scout unit ventured deep into Ma'aotou and clashed with over twenty agile Beimang Guse horsemen. In the fierce fight, both sides suffered losses. Only after examining the bodies did they realize these were Crow horsemen under Dong Zhuo. This filled Li Hanlin, an ordinary crossbow scout with a blood-splattered face, with both exhilaration and lingering fear. The Beiliang military system organized ten squads of fifty men into a *biao* (standard unit). A *biaozhang* (standard unit commander) of crossbow scouts was more qualified to be arrogant than ordinary military officers. Li Hanlin's *biaozhang* was a seasoned, robust man. He wore light armor, was an excellent horseman, and possessed extraordinary strength, capable of drawing a three-stone bow and even shooting with both hands. His only flaw was that, no matter how composed he usually was, his eyes would turn red upon seeing Beimang people, leading him to violate many military disciplines and be demoted multiple times. Otherwise, he would have become a general long ago. He was taciturn, only cracking a smile when his subordinates mentioned the incident where he was personally flogged by the Grand General. Li Hanlin and the other crossbow scouts in the unit knew this was their commander's weakness; if they made a mistake, merely mentioning this would make him soften up.

Li Hanlin, with a deep, bone-visible gash on his arm, rode his horse, a Beimang horseman's head tied to his saddle, blood flowing down the side of his horse. In this small skirmish, their side lost three men but completely annihilated the enemy. The bodies of their three fallen comrades were hung on the horses of the *biaozhang* and two vice-*biaozhangs*. This was an unshakeable iron rule in the army: in Beiliang's battlefields, returning with fallen comrades, even wrapped in horse hide, was paramount. As long as a living soldier still breathed, they had to bring back their fallen comrades, provided it didn't delay crucial military matters. Li Hanlin glanced at the new recruit beside him with new respect. This fellow, Lu Dou, had a strange appearance with double pupils. He had only joined their unit recently, but three Crow horsemen's heads hung from his saddle, demonstrating his ferocious combat prowess. Originally, the crossbow scouts, led by Li Hanlin, disliked this ill-tempered newcomer. However, after fighting side-by-side this time, even Li Shiyue, who had previously beaten and cursed Lu Dou, awkwardly admitted his mistake. Li Shiyue's father was a third-rank military officer in Beiliang, a powerful figure who could generally walk unchecked unless he encountered a first-rate young master. His parents, uncles, and even a generation further back were all illiterate. When he was born, there was a huge fuss over his name, with countless scholars and literati invited, but none satisfied them, finding the suggestions awkward. Finally, his family's patriarch slapped his thigh and declared that since he was born in October, he would be called Shiyue. This settled the matter for the entire illiterate family, much to the silent chagrin of the scholars who had tried to help with the naming.

The crossbow scouts in Li Hanlin's unit were mostly like Li Shiyue, sons of military families, though most were not as prominent as him. However, they generally didn't like to flaunt their fathers' family prestige, making Li Shiyue an isolated and unpopular anomaly. When Lu Dou, a commoner, entered the unit, he immediately clashed with Li Shiyue. At first, Li Hanlin and the others watched with indifference, not siding with either. Seeing Lu Dou's passive stance—not fighting back when hit, not retorting when cursed—they somewhat looked down on him, thinking, "Even if you're not much, you're a crossbow scout, shouldn't you have some backbone?" Unexpectedly, in the real combat against the notoriously fierce Crow horsemen, Lu Dou, this quiet fellow, silently killed three and even blocked a tricky arrow for Li Shiyue. Li Shiyue, who wasn't truly malicious or cunning, was genuinely impressed. This also made Li Hanlin view Li Shiyue in a new light. Although this guy still had some lingering playboy habits, it wasn't excessive. Compared to the descendants of Beiliang generals who didn't even dare to join the Beiliang army, let alone become crossbow scouts, he had achieved a thousand times more. At this moment, Li Hanlin was bantering with the crossbow scouts, recalling how he often fought with his brothers at home when he was young. His father, somehow hearing the proverb "strength in numbers," asked him to break chopsticks. Unexpectedly, Li Hanlin was so strong he broke a dozen chopsticks in one go, infuriating his father, who couldn't articulate his lesson. In a fit of anger, his father hired a truly capable martial arts instructor instead of having him pursue scholarly arts, which was truly a stroke of luck.

Li Hanlin found Li Shiyue's comment—that studying was more painful than being cut by a knife—amusing and deeply relatable. His heart felt much lighter. It turned out that "Brother Feng's" suggestion for him to join the army was indeed a good thing. Though, he probably never imagined that his good brother, the esteemed Young Master, would become a crossbow scout.

Li Shiyue rode up from behind, chuckling, "Brother Hanlin, can I borrow a barbarian head when we enter the city? Just to look impressive."

Li Hanlin laughed and scolded, "Go ask Lu Dou. That kid took three, I only have one. What would I do if I lend it to you?"

Li Shiyue helplessly replied, "I just humbled myself and admitted my mistake to him, I don't have the face to ask. Besides, we both have the surname Li, we're family from five hundred years ago!"

Li Hanlin shooed him away, then turned and shouted with a laugh, "Lu Dou, Li Shiyue says he wants to borrow a barbarian's head from you to show off. Will you lend it?"

Lu Dou calmly said, "Not one."

Li Shiyue made a bitter face, and even the *biaozhang* and vice-*biaozhangs* burst into laughter.

Lu Dou twitched the corner of his mouth and said indifferently, "I'll lend you two."

Li Shiyue galloped back, wishing he could hug this cold-faced, cold-eyed but warm-hearted fellow. "Lu Dou, from now on, you're my sworn brother! When we get to Lingzhou, I'll take you to every brothel!"

Li Hanlin teased, "What's visiting brothels? Don't you have a sister you always praise as a beauty? Just acknowledge him as your brother-in-law. Then, don't just talk about borrowing two barbarian heads, borrowing two hundred would be reasonable."

Li Shiyue grandly said, "Alright then, Lu Dou, how about we settle this matter?"

Lu Dou rolled his eyes unceremoniously. "Get lost, you pathetic sight. How good-looking could your sister be?"

Li Shiyue, who was actually not ugly at all, immediately felt stifled, provoking another burst of hearty laughter.

The *biaozhang* spoke up, "You bunch of rascals, still have energy to fool around here? Why not save it for the ladies later? I see you all did well this time. When we get back, I'll shamelessly ask General Zhao for some leave for you to enjoy yourselves. But at most, it'll be one or two days. Anyone who dares to be a moment late returning to camp, I'll personally whip them."

Li Hanlin approached the *biaozhang* and whispered, "*Biaozhang*, I and a few others, including Hong Jin, have agreed. We'll each donate a barbarian head's military merit to our three fallen brothers. As for the reward money, it will all be given to their families."

The *biaozhang* frowned. "Unauthorized transfer of military merit is a serious crime. Li Hanlin, I know your background is not ordinary, perhaps even better than Li Shiyue and the others. But if this matter becomes known to our superiors, military law is as unyielding as a mountain. A good deed could turn into a disaster. Do you really dare?"

Li Hanlin grinned impishly, "*Biaozhang*, you dared to stab a surrendering Beimang general to death after his defeat back then—how heroic! We are the soldiers you led; how could we not dare?"

The *biaozhang* swore his usual "Go to hell" but had a look of satisfied smile. He said, "You guys don't get involved. The two vice-*biaozhangs* and I have already agreed. This matter is not for you. For now, just focus on killing enemies and accumulating military merit. Once you join our unit, the two vice-*biaozhangs* and I will have no reason to mistreat any brother."

In the Beiliang Army: comrades for a day, brothers for life.

On Wudang Mountain, the morning bell rang.

The eighty-one peaks faced the Great Summit. In the square before the main peak's Taoist temple, ever since the young grand-martial-uncle became the sect leader, he had always led the martial arts practice. But now, whether through ascension or disembodiment, the sect leader was no longer in this world. Another person led the practice, equally young.

It was Li Yufu, who was a generation younger than Sect Leader Hong but even younger than him.

Mist swirled around the mountaintop. Hundreds of Wudang Taoists moved in unison, practicing their martial arts, their Taoist robes fluttering as if stirring up wind and clouds. The 108 forms created by the young sect leader were simplified to 72 by junior-martial-uncle Li Yufu. Far from losing the essence of the Great Dao, they became even more harmonious and fluid. Even young Taoist acolytes who had just arrived on the mountain could complete the forms effortlessly. After Wudang Mountain sealed itself off, only pilgrims were allowed to enter for incense offerings. On the mountain, regardless of the height of the peak or the seniority of the Taoist, anyone willing could practice martial arts with Li Yufu twice a day—at dawn when the morning bell rang, and at dusk when the evening drum beat. Those who arrived early stood in the front rows. Even senior Taoists like grand-martial-uncles Song Zhiming and Yu Xingrui, if they arrived a bit late, would naturally and casually stand in the back to practice. Regardless of wind or rain, the practice on the mountaintop never ceased.

After completing their practice, Li Yufu patiently answered questions from some young Taoists. Then, he walked with his master, Yu Xingrui, who had been quietly waiting, towards Little Lotus Peak, near the Tortoise-Carried Stele. The old Taoist, whose internal energy was once immense, second only to his senior brother Wang Zhonglou, sighed with emotion, "Yufu, do you resent your martial-uncle Hong for not leaving Ancestor Lü's sword to you, but instead gifting it to an outsider, Qi Xianxia? And this person is even a Taoist from Longhu Mountain's Celestial Masters' Mansion."

Li Yufu, with his hands tucked into his Taoist robe sleeves, smiled, "When my junior-martial-uncle taught me these forms, he clearly stated that he would transfer Ancestor Lü's relics to Qi Xianxia of Longhu Mountain. He also asked if I had any reservations. I dared not lie, so I honestly said I felt a bit unconvinced. Junior-martial-uncle then said it's good to be unconvinced; when my swordsmanship reaches mastery, as long as I surpass junior-martial-uncle Wang, I can go to Qi Xianxia and reclaim it. But I made an agreement with Master beforehand: even if I practice swordsmanship, if I don't achieve anything significant later, Master must not laugh at me."

Yu Xingrui walked to the edge of the cliff, stepped on the soft earth, and smiled, "If you don't succeed in swordsmanship, are we old fellows not allowed to laugh at you? Back then, among us old guys, except for our achieved sect leader senior brother and Wang Xiaoping who practiced the Closed Mouth Sword, the rest of us amounted to nothing much. Our only pleasure was laughing at your junior-martial-uncle. Oh? When we found him secretly watching, we'd go and laughingly scold and tease him. Oh? When he dozed off on the green ox, we'd lecture him with a few grand principles. Oh? When he thought of that red robe from his youth, we'd happily mock him a bit. Oh? Today, his divination again said it's not good to descend the mountain, and we old men just couldn't help but chuckle. Actually, the more time passed, your senior martial brothers and I felt it was better for him not to descend the mountain. What's the point of becoming the world's number one if you descend? But in the end, your junior-martial-uncle still descended."

Yu Xingrui sighed with deep emotion, whispering, "Riding an ox while reading Taoist scriptures, using peach wood to cut through waterfalls, watching the clouds rise and fall among the peaks—going with the flow, this was supposed to be your junior-martial-uncle's Heavenly Dao. But then he rode a crane down the mountains and rivers, severed destiny with his sword, even disembodied himself to allow a woman to ascend. How can that be called going with the flow? If I had been there, I would have grabbed his ear and given him a good scolding. We old men aren't lamenting Wudang's rise or fall; we're just heartbroken."

Li Yufu murmured, "White-haired seeing off black-haired."

Yu Xingrui sighed heavily again and chuckled, "So, you brat, stop fussing and don't carry any burdens. Regarding the matter of our sect leader junior brother, don't let those senior brothers of yours fool you with their calm demeanor. I suspect they're zoning out even while eating. It's a good thing my junior brother Wang isn't on the mountain; otherwise, he'd most likely intervene to stop Xixiang's flying sword from opening the Heavenly Court. And your senior brother Song, he hasn't been able to settle down to refine pills all year; he's worried sick."

Li Yufu softly asked, "Is martial-uncle Sect Leader both a reincarnation of Ancestor Lü and Qi Xuanzhen?"

Yu Xingrui smiled, "Probably true. Who cares?"

Yu Xingrui patted the shoulder of this disciple, whom he had personally brought from the East Sea to Wudang Mountain, and said gently, "You, my boy, are like our sect leader junior brother; being able to eat and sleep soundly is a great blessing."

Li Yufu scratched his head, embarrassed, "When that Young Master came up the mountain before, martial-uncle Sect Leader could still keep him in check. I'm afraid I would only be beaten."

Yu Xingrui laughed heartily, "Don't listen to those little Taoist acolytes' bragging. Your martial-uncle was also soundly beaten and scolded by that Young Master back then. When the Young Master came up the mountain, your martial-uncle was constantly annoyed. But it was thanks to his ability to find joy in hardship that we old fellows could secretly gloat."

Li Yufu was stunned.

Yu Xingrui pointed to the scenery outside the peak and smiled sincerely, "Our sect leader junior brother entered the Heavenly Elephant realm right here, and also became a Land Immortal right here. Both were achieved in a single step."

Li Yufu regained his composure, his heart filled with longing, and softly said, "It appears to be one step, but it was already ten million steps."

Yu Xingrui nodded with satisfaction, "Precisely. When one is wholeheartedly seeking the Dao, without knowing how many steps they have taken, and acting selflessly, only then can there be an opportunity to enter the Great Dao in one step. As for what 'selfless' means, your master is rigid and lacks deep insight, so I dare not mislead you. But I at least know one thing: if you painstakingly cultivate but never forget to calculate how many steps you've taken, you are definitely not walking on the Great Dao. This is also where your junior brother is wiser than us senior brothers: if I don't seek the Dao, the Dao comes naturally."

Li Yufu nodded, "The Dao cannot be spoken. It is ineffable."

Yu Xingrui slowly left the summit of Little Lotus Peak, glancing back at his disciple who was smiling and talking to the reclining green ox, and smiled knowingly.

Since junior-martial-brother was Ancestor Lü, then a dying wish from him was equivalent to Ancestor Lü's own words.

Wudang will prosper, and its prosperity lies in Yufu.

The Jing'an Royal Residence. It was said that Princess Pei was devoted to Zen meditation and had not shown herself for a long time, making the already desolate residence even more forlorn.

The sky was overcast but not raining, cool but not cold, like a woman speaking tentatively.

Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng, who had spent half his life in the capital and half in Xiangfan, sat under the eaves of the Buddhist hall, gently twirling a string of agarwood prayer beads wrapped around his hand.

Only one person sat opposite this influential prince, whose fortunes had risen and fallen.

It was none other than the young, blind zither player, Lu Xu, who had blinded himself to cut off his official career. Born into a scholarly family, with fathers who were great Confucian scholars of their time, he was nevertheless targeted by petty individuals who found a loophole when he wrote West Chu history with an unvarnished pen. The imperial court condemned him, and he fell into destitution for ten years, playing the zither for famous courtesans to make a living, and gambling at chess in Yongzi Lane for another ten years to survive. For some unknown reason, his luck turned. Not only did he enter the Jing'an Royal Residence, but he also became a highly valued advisor to both the prince and his son. Even now, the young man brought from Yongzi Lane into the imperial family's circle still felt as if it were a world apart. They say a carp leaps over the dragon gate, but of thousands of carp fighting tooth and nail, how many truly succeed? Lu Xu, bearing the weight of his past crimes, being favored by Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng was truly beyond reason and expectation.

Zhao Heng closed his eyes, turning the prayer beads that quieted his mind, and asked indifferently, "Lu Xu, do you know why I didn't let you enter the capital with Xun'er?"

The blind young man shook his head, "I do not know."

Prince Jing'an opened his eyes, gazing at the hazy sky, and smiled, "In recent days, I had you use an alias and work as a minor official in various government offices. Did you ever complain?"

Lu Xu shook his head and smiled slightly, "Lu Xu is very content."

Zhao Heng turned his head to look at the young scholar. "You wrote two memorials and thirteen strategies, aiming to resolve all matters for the emperor. The first memorial concerned establishing an heir, military calculations, and reducing princely domains. Xun'er, trembling with fear, was forced by me to present it in the capital, which provoked the Emperor's fury. The second memorial contained ten strategies, focusing solely on military tactics against Beimang: one, discussing Beimang's two clans and its northern and southern dynasties; two, predicting Beimang's troop division intentions; three, addressing enemy attacks; four, securing borders and preparing horses; five, deploying troops; six, discussing Liang-Liao; seven, peace through marriage; eight, logistics and supply; nine, reclaiming Dragon Waist Prefecture; and ten, annihilating Beimang. The Emperor was enraged again. However, Xun'er sent a secret message back to Xiangfan, saying that even Zhang Julu and Gu Jiantang greatly valued them. Even the old Grand Tutor of West Chu, who rarely praised anyone, spoke a few good words in court. Of these three, Zhang Julu chose 'logistics and supply' to elaborate on its profound implications, paving the way for his own political reforms. Gu Jiantang was particularly fond of the ninth strategy, 'reclaiming Dragon Waist Prefecture.' And Sun Xiji, who presided over the Ministry of the Grand Secretariat, fully accepted both memorials and thirteen strategies, praising them by saying that once these two memorials appeared, those of them standing on high would feel ashamed of themselves, calling my 'impersonating' Xun'er a great talent capable of governing the country and benefiting its people, not at all inferior to Grand Chancellor Zhang. Zhang Julu wasn't angry at all; he laughed and said, 'It's more than not inferior, it already makes it hard for me to catch up.' This finally suppressed the Emperor's rage. In truth, I know very well that these two memorials and thirteen strategies, except for the first one about establishing an heir, which touched his sensitive spot and truly enraged him, the other twelve strategies, especially the one about reducing princely domains, struck a chord with him. I truly understand my brother too well."

The blind man softly said, "Lu Xu's original intention was to present these two memorials and thirteen strategies a few years later, after the seventh war between the two dynasties had settled."

Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng stopped twirling his prayer beads.

Lu Xu lowered his head slightly.

Zhao Heng smiled, "You are a truly intelligent person. Countless fools have died by my hand. In this life, only you and one other young man have noticed that I press my prayer beads before I kill. But rest assured, I wouldn't bear to kill you. If I killed you, the Jing'an Royal Residence would crumble by half. My murderous intent rising this time is merely a deep-seated habit, not a true intention to kill. I cannot wait for the seventh war to end; I fear losing the gamble, Lu Xu. You are insightful; can you guess the meaning of my words?"

Lu Xu gritted his teeth, then stood up, knelt, and said in a deep voice, "If our dynasty's army is defeated, the thirteen strategies could still benefit the Jing'an Royal Residence. But if we win, they would become two pieces of waste paper. In that case, the Young Master would have no chance whatsoever of inheriting the title!"

Zhao Heng laughed heartily and said, "Stand up and speak."

Lu Xu stood and sat down again.

Zhao Heng softly said, "My gambling luck has always been poor. That big gamble back then, I lost the entire realm. That's why I rushed Xun'er into the capital; it was only a small gamble. They all say small gambles are pleasant, and I thought I should be able to win this one."

Lu Xu suddenly broke out in a cold sweat.

Zhao Heng continued to twirl his prayer beads, smiling, "You've thought of it? Yes, if I don't die, or rather, if I die slowly of old age, this gamble, even if I, Zhao Heng, win it, will be useless. Xun'er won't become Prince Jing'an; he will still only have his rank reduced by one level, from a princely vassal to a duke."

Lu Xu knelt again.

Is it amusing to indirectly cause the death of a prince without illness or misfortune? How many lives does a mere advisor like Lu Xu have?

Zhao Heng stood up and said, "Don't kneel. In this life, I actually only want one person to kneel before me. Who is he? You and I both know well, and it's certainly not you, Lu Xu."

Prince Jing'an personally helped up the blind young man, a resident scholar in his mansion, and smiled kindly, "That person back then relied on a scholar like Xun Ping, who could be called an unparalleled national talent, to achieve his current status. With you, my son and I will surely not be much worse. Come, you've seen the splendor of the Jing'an Royal Residence. Now I'll take you to see some squalor."

Lu Xu was led by Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng, who was travelling incognito, to the entrance of a quiet private residence in the city. As he stepped out of the carriage, he vaguely saw a bitter smile on the lips of Prince Jing'an, widely considered the most accomplished in both civil and military arts among the seven vassal kings.

He gently pushed the door open and entered.

The small courtyard was filled with orchids. A woman leaned languidly against the wooden railing under the eaves, her demeanor refined. When Lu Xu saw her profile, he paused, then, after confirming she was not Princess Pei Nanwei, he was somewhat shocked by Young Master Zhao Xun's impropriety. For a wealthy young master, having a hidden concubine was utterly commonplace; even with a princess consort, keeping mistresses would not be considered rebellious. However, when this woman resembled the princess consort so strikingly, it became alarming. Lu Xu immediately understood why Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng called it a sordid affair, and he focused his gaze downwards, no longer looking at the beautiful woman who was lost in thought.

The woman finally became aware, and upon seeing Zhao Heng, who bore a seven or eight parts resemblance to Young Master Zhao Xun, she immediately dropped to her knees, her body trembling, unable to utter a single word.

Zhao Heng slowly walked beside her, reaching out to grasp a string of wind chimes hanging under the eaves, remaining silent.

The woman was in tears, trembling for a long time. She looked up, bit her lip until it bled red, and said, "This servant is not afraid of death, but I beg Prince Jing'an not to punish the Young Master."

Zhao Heng released the wind chimes, flicking them lightly so they jingled. Without looking down at the woman prostrate on the floor, he scoffed softly, "Are you worthy of speaking to me?"

The woman lowered her head, tears streaming down her face.

Prince Jing'an listened to the sound of the wind chimes and slowly said, "From the first day you stepped into this courtyard, I already knew. However, this scandal is nothing to me. Xun'er has not crossed the line."

The woman continued to tremble like a delicate orchid in a storm.

Zhao Heng continued, "Now, for Xun'er, are you willing to die?"

Prince Jing'an and Lu Xu walked out of the small courtyard.

Before Zhao Heng got into the carriage, he paused slightly, and chuckled softly, "I treat you as a national talent."

Lu Xu, without speaking, bowed deeply.

The woman waited until the sound of the door closing reached her ears, wiped away her tears, and went to her jewelry box to select a pearl hairpin given by Zhao Xun. She came under the eaves, lay on the floor just as he had, and looked up at the string of wind chimes.

Before the hairpin pierced her neck, she whispered beautifully and sorrowfully, "Xun."

While Young Master Zhao Xun of Jing'an was in the capital, a piece of news emerged that, like the two memorials and thirteen strategies, shook the world: Prince Jing'an Zhao Heng had suddenly died from a persistent illness. Princess Pei Nanwei had committed suicide as a martyr.

When the news reached the capital, it was rumored that Young Master Zhao Xun vomited blood and fainted.

That day, imperial grace was vast.

The Emperor decreed that Zhao Xun would inherit the title of Prince Jing'an, hereditarily.

He became the second among the seven vassal kings to be granted hereditary succession, but the first young master to become a vassal prince.

After thanking the Emperor in the palace, Zhao Xun swiftly returned to Xiangfan City. After meeting with Lu Xu, he donned mourning clothes.

In the quiet of the deep night, Zhao Xun, soon to be the new prince of the dynasty, sat alone in the mourning hall, his face expressionless as he threw handfuls of yellow paper into the brazier.

After the period of mourning ended, he had a maidservant help him put on the prince's python robe inside the room.