Chapter 435: Seeing Ghosts in Broad Daylight

The mountains and ridges of Jiangnan often wind like coiled snakes, and Dragon Tail Slope in Huainan is no exception. Located three hundred li from the important town of Tielu, it usually sees a lot of merchant traffic. However, a rare snowfall has blocked the mountain road, making travel exceptionally difficult. Most merchants would rather take a long detour onto the post road.

On Dragon Tail Slope, a group of travelers is struggling north. A simple carriage moves slowly, its poor horse's hooves sinking into the snow, making the journey even more arduous. The black horse, with its dull mane, snorts, puffing out clouds of mist. The coachman, a scrawny old servant, is reluctant to use his whip. While the saying goes, "spur a fast horse," it's like a clever cook without rice; this old horse, discarded by the military, develops a stubborn streak if whipped too much, and nine times out of ten, it will simply refuse to move. Fortunately, the passenger inside the carriage is understanding, occasionally comforting the coachman and telling him not to rush. Inside, an elderly man with a gaunt face, wrapped in a tattered fur coat that might be older than the horse itself, looks serene as he quietly reads a book. Outside, the snow-covered mountains are draped in silver, as if a spring breeze had bloomed thousands of pear trees overnight. The old man lifts the curtain to gaze out, his previously heavy heart feeling a little lighter.

Also on Dragon Tail Slope, less than half a li behind the carriage, five riders follow closely. Mostly dressed in black, they are three men and two women. The lead rider is a slightly plump, prosperous middle-aged man with round earlobes like a Buddha, suggesting good fortune. He wears an eye-catching white fox fur-lined crane cloak, presenting a pleasant and approachable demeanor. Behind him rides a handsome young man, with a face like polished jade, carrying a gold-wrapped staff. Even in such biting cold, his breathing is calm and slow, truly earning him the description "god-like in bearing."

Of the two women, the older one, if women were water, would flow with captivating charm in the eyes of the world. What is particularly rare is that her allure is not overtly flirtatious; she possesses the dignified grace of a well-bred lady. The young girl riding alongside her, in comparison, pales into obscurity. Her beauty is merely that of a blossoming "girl next door" type from a neighboring village. The last rider is a rugged-looking youth, shabbily dressed, with clumsy horsemanship. Every now and then, he secretly rubs his sore backside. Several times, the "girl next door" in front catches him, earning him a roll of her eyes, which makes the youth's face flush red, wishing he could dig a hole and bury himself in the snow. When the girl, who was just exchanging barbed remarks with him, turns her head and laughs joyfully with the staff-wielding young man, the shabbily dressed youth, unable to hide his humble origins, secretly dares to glance at the older woman's graceful back.

His name is Li Huaier, a true native of Tielu City. His parents passed away early, and his uncle, a scholar, raised him and gave him his name. He believes that in his life, only this "quaint and scholarly" name is somewhat presentable.

From a young age, Li Huaier loved martial arts. The streets and alleys were never short of mystical martial arts legends. For instance, busybodies would rank Tielu City's top ten masters; even Peng He, at the bottom, was said to be able to single-handedly lift and throw a horse several zhang. The sixth-ranked military general, Ding Ce, could reportedly shoot an arrow clean through a millstone. Li Huaier, who always dreamed of becoming famous, preferred to believe these tales, and even though he got beaten black and blue in every neighborhood brawl, it didn't diminish his passion for the martial world.

His current ability to ride with the four people ahead stemmed from a bloody secret he accidentally stumbled upon in the city two days prior. The old man named Huang, sitting in the carriage half a li away, was said to be an official on his way to the capital. For some unknown reason, he was ambushed by a group of black-clad men with swords and crossbows. The old man stumbled into a dark, narrow alley and collided with Li Huaier. A hail of blades and arrows ensued, crossbows buzzing as bolts embedded in the walls. Li Huaier, caught in the crossfire, was full of youthful vigor. Without time to be scared, he grabbed the old man and scurried away, covering their heads.

Later, the four riders appeared out of nowhere, leading to a fierce confrontation that turned the area upside down. Li Huaier personally witnessed the handsome young man with the staff strike down, almost creating a long trench in the alley wall. He also saw the woman's swordplay, swift and elegant like a dragon, reflected in the snow. He happened to glimpse her stunningly beautiful and cold face in that moment of killing, and he knew right then and there that if he could make a name for himself, he would marry no one else in this life.

Yet, Li Huaier, though simple, was not foolish. People said that enlightened masters could comprehend sword techniques just by watching the tides. But despite a river flowing outside Tielu City, Li Huaier would, whenever free, go to its banks, squat down, and stare intently at the surging waters. He watched when it was calm, during violent storms and floods, and even during the recent heavy snowfall, but he couldn't discern a thing. He inadvertently heard that reclusive masters lived in mountains and forests, so he repeatedly walked around the mountains and hills near Tielu. Besides relieving himself, he left nothing behind and encountered nothing special. Master Bao, who was unrivaled in several nearby streets, reportedly gained his extraordinary martial arts from just two or three pages of a peerless secret manual. However, Li Huaier, despite having a scholar for an uncle, had a temperament like his father, who spent his whole life working the fields. He naturally disliked studying and recognized only a few characters, knowing that even if he got a martial arts manual, he probably wouldn't understand most of it.

Li Huaier looked at the men and women in front of him, feeling somewhat disheartened. That "celestial sister" had told him that once Mr. Huang was safely delivered to the capital, she would give him travel money to return home, and no one in Tielu would bother him anymore; he could then live a peaceful life. Li Huaier stammered in response then, not daring to say another word. What he truly thought in his heart, but dared not voice, was: "I just want to roam the jianghu with you!"

At the top of Dragon Tail Slope stood an inn. For some reason, it had never been given a name. It had been open for many years, with business neither booming nor failing, just enough to make a living. Refined individuals willing to spend lavishly were never keen on staying there.

The snow on the mountaintop had just cleared, finally dispelling some of the biting cold. The five riders came to the vicinity of the inn, where they saw the old gentleman standing by his carriage, greeting them with a smile. Two other carriages were parked nearby, seemingly belonging to fellow travelers. The prosperous middle-aged man in the crane cloak rubbed his sable hat, looking a little helpless. After dismounting, he quickly walked forward and whispered, "Mr. Huang, we all have dry rations for sustenance, so why don't we keep going without stopping?"

The old gentleman wore a stone-blue silk official's robe, which, now that the skies had cleared, shimmered with a unique reddish-brown luster in the sunlight. As a ranked official, and with his profound scholarly knowledge, he naturally exuded a quiet dignity that inspired awe among common folk.

The man in the crane cloak and sable hat, from a prominent family, certainly hadn't risked his life simply because of Mr. Huang's low official rank, nor was he willing to antagonize the corrupt officials allied in Western Guangling Road. Rather, it was because Mr. Huang held a crucial position; though his rank was not high, just entering the official hierarchy, his words carried such weight that they could "reach the emperor's ears." All of Western Guangling Road respected Mr. Huang's advocacy for the people and his straightforward advice. This time, he was traveling to the capital for a new appointment, to "enter the Censorate" with Zhu Guiyou, a great scholar from the northern region, and become a Censorate Surveillance Censor. However, Mr. Huang was going to the capital to meet the emperor, carrying memorials that could decide the fate of dozens of official positions in several large prefectures and counties in Western Guangling Road. This brought deadly peril upon the old gentleman. If not for a group of insightful individuals who contributed money and effort to fend off several dishonorable and brutal assassination attempts against him, he wouldn't have been able to take half a step out of Guangling Road, let alone reach the grand Tai'an City.

In his view, the old gentleman was incorruptible and of high moral character, but sometimes he was too old-fashioned and rigid in his ways, unknowingly bringing great danger to the martial artists covertly protecting him. Yet, he couldn't tell him directly, sometimes smiling bitterly to himself and only being able to console himself that if the old gentleman weren't of such a character, he wouldn't have been appointed Surveillance Censor.

Mr. Huang, feeling apologetic, bowed his fists to the martial artists in thanks, leaving much unsaid.

Li Huaier and the other riders dismounted one by one, all respectfully returning the salutation with clasped fists. Ning Zong, the man in the crane cloak, known in his family's prefecture for his generosity and chivalry, conceded the point and chuckled softly. "Then let's have lunch with Mr. Huang and speed up our journey afterward. At the Guangling Road border, a group of people will meet us. The venerable martial arts elder Liang, renowned throughout Lianghuai, will personally come out of retirement. By then, those scoundrels from Tielu won't dare to be so rampant."

The young girl wrinkled her delicate nose and grumbled softly, "Since Elder Liang is so revered in the martial world, and at his advanced age, can still wield a sixty-catty pear-blossom spear so masterfully, and with the help of fellow martial artists, why isn't he willing to walk an extra two or three hundred li?"

The woman with the sword frowned and softly reprimanded, "Chun Ya, don't be rude!"

It was Mr. Huang who intervened. As he slowly walked towards the inn, he smilingly and good-naturedly explained to the girl, "These long-established martial arts families and sects, let alone their direct descendants and main followers, even their household retainers and guards who simply make a living, must all be registered. They inevitably have dealings with the government, and many matters require them to be deferential. The martial world of my youth, where one only sought immediate gratification for grievances, is long gone and will never return."

Ning Zong, who felt this most deeply, laughed, "Mr. Huang is immensely learned, knowing all under heaven from his home."

The gaunt old man waved his hand and self-deprecatingly said, "Just reading ten thousand books is not enough; one must also travel ten thousand li. The principles in books are static; being human is dynamic. I, Huang Chang, cannot rest or eat peacefully if I don't read for a day. Over decades, I have indeed read many books and often visited the countryside. But I know my limitations; I am too rigid in my principles, not adaptable in my conduct, and especially unskilled in navigating the intricacies of officialdom. This journey to the capital, I, Huang Chang, have inconvenienced all of you heroes. And of course, the heroic Miss Zhou and Miss Hu. Apart from the library collection stolen from me, Huang Chang is now a penniless pauper. On this journey north, I've been thinking that one day, when I'm no longer an official, I'll write a 'Tale of Knights-Errant,' hoping to repay you two."

Ning Zong's face showed delight. "This would be a fortunate event, one that would go down in history." The girl called Chun Ya chirped excitedly, "Mr. Huang, please don't forget me! My name is Hu Chun Ya." Mr. Huang nodded in agreement with a smile.

The woman named Zhou, who possessed a detached, otherworldly aura like an immortal, exchanged a faint smile with the elegant young man carrying the staff.

Li Huaier, who felt he had no meaningful role, followed the group, lowering his head as he stepped over the threshold. He always considered himself a useless burden, feeling self-conscious and speaking little.

The inn was not large, and every tabletop was covered with years of accumulated grease, gleaming with a greasy sheen that a mere rag couldn't wipe clean. Ning Zong, with his rich experience in the martial world, scanned his surroundings, feeling a sense of wary unease. Inside, there were five tables, and a small group of five people occupied two tables by the window. One of them, a robust young man, exuded a faint scent of blood, but that wasn't the main concern. At one table, a young man, possibly due to premature graying, had white hair, wore white clothes, white shoes, and a white jade belt, and possessed rare peach-blossom eyes. Ning Zong found him troublesome at a glance; even if such people had mediocre skills, their bearing alone indicated they were extremely difficult to deal with, likely from influential families. To the white-haired young man's left sat a dark-skinned youth, and to his right, a man drinking from a cup. Ning Zong, skilled at assessing people, felt his scalp tingle immediately. The man was estimated to be nine chi tall; even Xu Zhan, their own master of the staff, who was already tall and imposing, was slightly inferior in comparison. Ning Zong's family was not far from the military stronghold of Guangling's elite troops, and he was very familiar with the brutal aura of those who had truly crawled out of piles of corpses on the battlefield.

If this group were to intercept Mr. Huang on his way to the capital, Ning Zong estimated that even if they all lost their lives on Dragon Tail Slope, it would most likely be futile.

At one table were Xu Fengnian, the young Wu, and Yuan Zong. At the other were cavalry generals Lu Song and Wang Lin, who had participated in the battle outside Shenwu City.

Qingniao was severely injured and couldn't endure the bumpy journey south to Shangyin Academy, so she followed the group northward to Beiliang. Chu Lushan personally cleared the way, using both kindness and authority to smooth things over, ensuring all difficulties could be resolved.

Xu Fengnian's current trip was to first pick someone up from the academy, then secretly meet two groups of people in Qingzhou, after which he could go to Beiliang. The challenge of how to integrate the 100,000 displaced people, who could fight on horseback and farm on foot, was a problem Li Yishan deliberately left for him to solve. Only by accomplishing this vital task could he truly open a new chapter for Beiliang. He brought Lu Song, who had the demeanor of a scholarly general, and the injured Wang Lin, to intentionally cultivate them as his direct confidantes, ensuring a gradual process of mutual familiarization before they smoothly integrated into the Beiliang army. Both of their subordinate troops had suffered heavy casualties, and Xu Fengnian couldn't just walk away and leave these two meritorious officials aside. He never believed that a few grand words could make talented people immediately pledge allegiance. As for Yuan Zong, the White Bear, whose martial prowess in the Liyang army was second only to Gu Jiantang and Chen Zhibao, he had requested to travel south with them himself.

Apart from Ning Zong constantly observing with his eyes and the young girl Hu Chun Ya trying hard to look at Xu Fengnian, the rest — Mr. Huang, the woman named Zhou, and Xu Zhan — all held their breath in concentration after ordering food from the inn's waiter.

The inn's last two jars of aged wine were ordered by Xu Fengnian's two tables. Fortunately, Ning Zong knew that excessive drinking could ruin affairs and hadn't initially thought of warming wine to warm his stomach. However, Huang Chang, who was going to the capital to become a Censorate Surveillance Censor, had only three lifelong pleasures: reading, drinking, and eating crab. His meager annual salary was entirely spent on these three things. It was now long past the season for eating crab. Although there were books to read in the carriage, the journey was rushed, his life was in danger, and he hadn't been able to enjoy the several jars of pickled crab meticulously prepared during the osmanthus season. Huang Chang, smelling the wine, felt a stir of emotion, but due to his years of self-cultivation, he didn't say anything.

Xu Fengnian sat by the window and asked with a smile, "Old gentleman, I still have half a jar of wine I can't finish, and I'd hate for it to go to waste. How about I sell it to you at a cheaper price?"

Huang Chang was tempted but still shook his head with a smile. The martial world was treacherous, much like the cunning and volatile officialdom. In many ways, they were similar, both epitomized by the phrase "devious human hearts."

Hu Chun Ya, whose naive heart was entirely captivated by the elegant young man Xu Zhan, felt her thoughts waver after seeing Xu Fengnian. But the words she spoke were sharp: "He's quite handsome, but his white hair is scary to look at. If I saw him at night, I'd definitely think I'd seen a ghost."