Chapter 297: Father and Son, Loyalty and Treachery

Six bodies, struck dead by the force of the Hu Jia’s rhythm, lay on the jade plaza, centered around the sword-carrying scholar. Blood flowed. In the wake of the battle, the archers were stunned, forgetting to loose their next volley of arrows.

The long-bearded Manor Lord roared, "Shen family disciples, lead the charge!"

Two encirclement formations instantly took shape. The inner circle comprised over twenty Shen family members, interspersed with elite assassins trained by the Grass Hall. The larger outer circle consisted of over forty guest elders from Chang Le Peak. As the battle intensified, over thirty more individuals poured into the White Jade Plaza. The inner circle suddenly constricted, over twenty blades combining their assault. Xu Fengnian swept his left foot back a mere inch, his hands rising into the posture of "Severing Rivers and Shaking Kunlun." Coupled with the "Binding Blue Silk" technique, which the blind zither player had gleaned from imitating the rhythm of the Hu Jia, he displayed the magnificent demeanor of a grandmaster, capable of stirring up winds and clouds on mountaintops. His body swayed and twisted, his vital energy surging like a great river flowing eastward. The Shen family disciples had practiced martial arts since childhood, their bodies tempered to a degree far surpassing ordinary sects, and they had access to superior secret manuals and guidance from masters to initiate them. As twenty blades struck, their formations were rigid and disciplined. Although they were thwarted by the formidable vital energy, the inner circle quickly reformed and expanded. Only a few blades were disarmed and destroyed. Most of the individuals remained unharmed. Those whose weapons were disarmed almost simultaneously caught high-grade swords and blades thrown to them by individuals in the outer circle behind them. The circular formation contracted and expanded, fully demonstrating the profound heritage of Shenmen Grass Hall.

In Western Shu, there was the largest dragon screen in the world, even grander than the Nine-Dragon Screen in the current Liyang Imperial City. Back then, Li Chungang had stirred it with three thousand streams of sword qi, a feat known as the "Shu-Opening Style."

Xu Fengnian, who single-handedly fought against two circles of over sixty martial artists, silently chanted two words: "Sword, rise."

Xu Fengnian began with the "One Finger on the Azure Waves" style of Wudang's Wang Chonglou. His Spring and Autumn Sword simultaneously unsheathed from his back, its sword qi unparalleled on Chang Le Peak. The Spring and Autumn Sword flashed past. Xu Fengnian stomped his feet fiercely, causing twin indentations in the jade floor as a brilliant light surged between heaven and earth, like a streaking comet. This, compared to the somewhat crude "Swallow's Return Detached Sword" from before, transcended far too many levels of mastery. It already approached the peak of sword control achieved by the Wu Family Sword Tomb. During the Battle of the Reed Marshes, Zhao Liuding, facing Li Chungang's "Two Sleeves of Green Snakes," remained composed and borrowed the "Plain King," the second most renowned sword of its time, from his sword attendant, demonstrating control over the sword with vital energy. Xu Fengnian again unleashed the chaotic Hu Jia beats with extreme ferocity, serving as a guiding principle. Meanwhile, the Spring and Autumn Sword's qi, like a rolling dragon screen, formed a vast net. The sword qi's reach enveloped not only the over twenty people in the inner circle but also the more than forty in the outer circle.

Slicing necks, piercing chests, stabbing legs.

Swords came and went; the vital energy seemed endless.

The staff-wielding Manor Lord's eyes flickered uncertainly. Beside him stood a gold-crowned, purple-robed man who had recently entered the fray. This father and son, both from the Shen family, were two of the three Minor Grandmasters on Chang Le Peak. The fact that both father and son had successively reached the Second Rank was a widely celebrated tale in the Jianghu of Orange State, truly embodying the saying "a tiger begets no weak cubs." Manor Lord Shen Zhi placed his hopes on his illegitimate son, Zhongli Handan, awaiting the day when Chang Le Peak would legitimately boast three grandmasters from one family. This would undoubtedly help the Grass Hall narrow the gap with the Ten Great Sects. Among the younger generation of Shen family disciples, there were many martial arts prodigies with exceptional talent. If they could fully support and cultivate a First-Rank master within thirty years, the Shen family would qualify to enter the Northern Mang Royal Court's purview, and be invested with significant human, financial, and material resources for support. The rich grow richer – such was the nature of the Northern Mang Jianghu. The imperial court not only allowed small gangs to prey on weaker ones but also actively assisted large sects in dominating smaller ones. To sail against the current meant to either advance or retreat. Dunhuang City, six hundred li away, had a City Lord who was like a self-proclaimed monarch, even known as "Second King," akin to a minor Martial Emperor. He had long harbored a desire to annex Shenmen Grass Hall. If not for the deep-rooted connections between Chang Le Peak and two imperial families, built on mountains of gold, which allowed several military garrisons to block Dunhuang City's southern expansion and infiltration, the Grass Hall would have long been utterly devoured. To live in peace without thought of danger. The forty-odd large and small gangs within three hundred li of Dunhuang City served as a stark warning.

Each death in the Grass Hall signified an increased crisis. How could Shen Zhi not be consumed by anxiety?

The purple-robed swordsman, the eldest legitimate son of the Grass Hall, squinted and said grimly, "If this boy is not eliminated, how can the Grass Hall maintain its standing on Mount Liuyi? Should I go ask Grandfather to come out of seclusion?"

The Manor Lord shook his head, as if asking himself, "Is the cost not too great?"

The middle-aged man retorted in a deep voice, "Are we just going to let him slaughter everyone on the plaza?"

The long-bearded Manor Lord, his beard flowing, narrowed his eyes and said, "No hurry. Wait until his momentum subsides, then you try to test him again."

The next Grass Hall Manor Lord, whose dignified bearing and nobility surpassed even Zhongli Handan's, said angrily, "What if we still can't defeat him? We'll lose face and suffer internal damage. Those despicable people from Dunhuang City are always eager to exploit any weakness. Wouldn't the Grass Hall be in precarious danger? When the nest is overturned, how can our Shen family descendants live in peace? We can't possibly stoop to being like those vile bandit leaders, acknowledging the Dunhuang City Lord as our godmother and becoming her servile followers, can we? That envoy from Dunhuang City on the mountain, with her seductive, foxy face and voluptuous figure like a palace concubine, has a vicious heart and speaks with outrageous arrogance. The moment she arrived, she declared that our entire Shen family of the Grass Hall should become adopted sons of Dunhuang City. How can we tolerate that?"

Shen Zhi frowned and said, "Don't try to provoke me. No one knows a son better than his father. Do you truly think my old eyes are clouded, that I don't know what you've been planning and the small schemes you've been orchestrating in secret all these years? You resent me for not seeking allegiance with Murong Baoding, for not paving your way in the military, so you secretly befriended the trusted aides of the Imperial Envoy. Shen Kaihe, do you still consider me your father?!"

It would have been better if that layer of truth had remained untouched. As the old wound was torn open, Shen Kaihe's face became somewhat contorted and ferocious as he sneered, "My mother was strangled to death with a ten-foot white silk by that illegitimate son, Zhongli Handan, yet you wouldn't even let me avenge her. What kind of father are you?"

The sixty-year-old man gripped his refined iron staff, his face first showing anger, then heartbreak, his eyes filled with sorrow. Suppressing many harsh words, he sighed, "Now that Handan is dead, you and I, father and son, should be of one mind." Gazing at the sword qi soaring into the sky on the plaza, the Grass Hall Manor Lord felt the pervasive sense that the Jianghu ages people prematurely. Could it be that a young scholar, who had suddenly appeared, could wield a sword with a mastery that ordinary swordsmen struggled to achieve even after sixty years of practice? The old man slowly said, "Murong Baoding possesses great ambition and strategy, but also a disloyal heart. Even if he can contend with Her Majesty the Empress from his own clan in the imperial court, can he contend with Tuoba Pusa, who holds military power? Can he contend with the other seven Imperial Envoys who sit by and watch the tiger fight? If I humble myself and show goodwill to Dunhuang City, even if the Shen family merely clings to survival, it's better than facing complete annihilation one day."

Shen Kaihe said indifferently, "Future matters can be discussed in the future. Present matters depend on human effort."

The aging Manor Lord offered a bitter smile and remained silent.

On the plaza, the Spring and Autumn Sword had already broken through two layers of encirclement, causing over half of the combatants to be dead or wounded.

When his vital energy subsided, the sword returned to its sheath. The purple-robed Shen Kaihe swept into the fray. He engaged in a perilous struggle with the elegant, refined swordsman. His movements were agile, and his wide purple sleeves fluttered, a beautiful sight. The battleground constantly shifted. Shen Kaihe was hit square in the chest by a punch, sending him flying twenty paces back towards Manor Lord Shen Zhi. The latter's expression subtly changed; he lifted his staff and floated forward, steadying his eldest legitimate son and pulling him back. Shen Kaihe stood behind the long-bearded Manor Lord. Xu Fengnian had originally not considered any tactics like "capturing the king by first capturing his chief." He merely intended to counter the relentless wave attacks and continue killing. But since the opportunity presented itself, he didn't hold back. The Spring and Autumn Sword unsheathed for a second time. Just as the white-bearded, immortal-like Manor Lord raised his refined iron staff, Xu Fengnian perceived that the vital energy of this Second-Rank master instantly dissipated. Although there were signs of it attempting to surge back, as if it had suffered another heavy blow, it finally poured out like a great river flowing for a thousand li. The Spring and Autumn Sword, without any impediment, pierced straight through, creating a flawlessly intricate arc in the air before returning to its sheath.

Xu Fengnian narrowed his eyes, displaying a hint of unexpected surprise and an even more unsettling, inexplicable smile.

Shen Kaihe roared "Father!" He embraced the dying old man, whose heart had been pierced by the sword, carefully sat him down, and lowered his head, tears in his eyes, yet his gaze was extraordinarily cold.

Manor Lord Shen Zhi, who was about to face the enemy, had just been ambushed from behind at close range by two sword qi attacks, piercing two crucial vital points. These vital points themselves were not fatal to martial artists. However, the Shen family's unique internal cultivation method, which drew from various schools, emphasized a successive, layered progression of vital energy, stopping and then restarting, ultimately achieving a profound and formidable aura. This delicate moment of the Shen family's "Three Stops" reaching its peak was difficult for outsiders to discern, but Shen Kaihe knew it perfectly. The two stabs caused Shen Zhi's internal energy to lose its foundation and support, finally leading to his easy defeat by a single strike from the Spring and Autumn Sword. Father and son, one lying, one sitting, gazed at each other. Unexpectedly, Shen Kaihe, who had just committed an act of great impiety, had intended to cover Shen Zhi's mouth while wiping away the blood, to prevent him from revealing the truth. He hadn't expected the old man to merely offer a bitter smile, devoid of much anger, and slowly shake his head. Then, spitting blood, he slowly said, "Kaihe, although Zhongli Handan was arrogant, he lacked ambition. You only knew to envy his martial talent and resent his ruthlessness. But do you know that both your mother and Aunt Liu were killed by my own hands, not his? I was laying the foundation for the Grass Hall's next hundred years of prosperity. Handan has resolved his emotional knot and holds no hatred towards you. Once I die, he will devote himself to martial arts. You, by leveraging Dunhuang City—whose City Lord is rumored to be Tuoba Pusa's lover—and joining the military, how could you not rise rapidly? Furthermore, if Handan reaches the First Rank and presides over Chang Le Peak, you will have no worries at all. In the end, the Grass Hall's patriarch position is yours, and a brilliant future is also yours…"

The dying Shen Zhi, in his twilight years, spoke intermittently. Shen Kaihe, in the prime of his life, pressed his lips together, his lips trembling.

Shen Zhi, whose cruelty was not so great as to harm his own son, clutched his son's wrist and said with a desperate rasp, "Kaihe, do not get involved in the Murong family's quagmire. Compared to behemoths like Ti Bing Mountain and Dunhuang City, the Shen family cannot afford to play the game of court intrigue. Remember, remember... there is a Zhuwang spy hidden within the Grass Hall. Your father deliberately allied with Dunhuang City partly to provide a cover for your proximity to Murong Baoding. You must be careful…"

Shen Zhi's final dying words were: "Do not feel guilty, Kaihe. You are a man capable of great things. Consider your father one of the countless bones that pave the way for a general's success. In the future, bring glory to our family and expand our lineage…"

Shen Kaihe finally shed a few genuine tears, but there was still no trace of regret in his eyes.

Xu Fengnian, having watched the grand spectacle, knew there was no need to fight further today. The purple-robed man's actions, seemingly absurd and cold-blooded, while knowing he couldn't kill Xu Fengnian quickly, also revealed the truth of his patricide. This was clearly a pledge of allegiance, a way of "submitting his name" to Xu Fengnian. Far from being enemies, they might even become secret honored guests. The unpredictability of the world was truly laughable.

Xu Fengnian suddenly looked up.

A figure in graceful brocade robes leaped across the rooftops of tall buildings. From a curved eave, they soared like a wild goose, then plummeted rapidly after grabbing something, vanishing instantly.

Xu Fengnian withdrew his gaze and asked, "What do you say?"

Shen Kaihe, still seated on the ground, his teeth clenched in a posture of irreconcilable vengeance, said fiercely, "This patricidal debt, I, Shen Kaihe, will personally settle it with you after I've buried my father!"

Xu Fengnian chuckled, "I don't change my name when I walk, nor my surname when I sit. My name is Song Rong, from the Qi Jian Yue Fu."

Under the gaze of all, he turned and left the plaza with an elegant stride.

Descending the mountain, only the utterly stunned Han Fang and Zhang Xiucheng remained.

The three rode together under the moonlight. They passed the majestic archway constructed of golden nanmu wood.

Han Fang, his heart filled with dread, plucked up his courage and asked, "Young Master, are you from the Qi Jian Yue Fu?"

Xu Fengnian smiled faintly, "It's clearly even more fake than the name Xu Lang I gave you. It's just a banner I casually raised; did you actually believe it?"

Zhang Xiucheng smiled knowingly.

Xu Fengnian looked back at the mansion's night view, where lanterns hung high, and quietly said, "I know you're a Han family descendant. If you don't want to die in the Grass Hall's retaliation, gather a few trustworthy confidantes and return to Jizhou tonight."

Han Fang said bitterly, "Who exactly are you, Young Master?"

Xu Fengnian said with extreme nonchalance, "You'll find out later. In any case, if you still want to do something for the Han family, to turn the 'Biography of Treacherous Officials' written by the Liyang Dynasty's historians into a future 'Biography of Loyal Officials,' then go to Jizhou. Besides, you have no choice; if you want to live, you can only flee south."

Han Fang said stiffly, "What if I, Han Fang, refuse to obey?"

Xu Fengnian sneered, "Then die."

Han Fang's face became solemn, and he said calmly, "When have men of the Han family ever feared death?"

Xu Fengnian chuckled, "Not fearing death is certainly true. Back then, at Jizhou Prefecture, hundreds of Han family members were strung together like grasshoppers and taken to the bustling market square. With 'crack, crack' sounds, blades rose and fell; I heard that the executioners' blades even chipped from beheading so many. I don't know why you became a cowardly survivor who slipped through the net, and I won't delve into it. I'm simply offering you terms: Go to Jizhou, raise the Han family banner, and secretly gather a thousand elite soldiers. As for where to hide, that's up to your preference. If you want gold, I'll give you gold; if you want silver, I'll give you silver. I can even provide warhorses and weapons. After this, it's up to Heaven whether your Han family can clear its name. As for who I am…"

Zhang Xiucheng nudged his horse's flank and galloped hundreds of paces ahead.

After the three fine horses were once again riding abreast, Zhang Xiucheng saw Han Fang's face still displaying unrelaxed shock, indicating that the answer must have been utterly startling.

Xu Fengnian asked, "Among the direct descendants of the Han family, is there anyone left besides you, Han Fang?"

Han Fang shook his head: "None."

Xu Fengnian sneered, "Good thing. Otherwise, I would have killed them for you."

Han Fang simmered with suppressed rage but forcibly held it back.

Zhang Xiucheng's eyes gleamed brightly.

The reason he remained loyal to Han Fang, who held the top seat even after the decline of Zhongyi Stronghold, was that Zhang Xiucheng's heart had turned to ash, no longer holding hope for the day his ambitions would be realized. His association with Han Fang was more like that of friends and confidantes, subtly removing any master-servant dynamic. This was because Zhang Xiucheng knew well that Han Fang was too rigid in managing people, unclear in his rewards and punishments. To put it harshly, he was too soft-hearted, certainly not a wise ruler capable of conquering an empire. Zhang Xiucheng didn't mind serving someone like a dog, as long as that person demonstrated sufficient cunning and capability!

Xu Fengnian clasped his hands into his sleeves. Recalling the warmth of their past encounters, his lips subtly curved upwards, and his eyes softened. "To think I would see you in Orange State."