Chapter 523: Crossing the River

A man and a woman traveled largely uneventfully through Dongfeng Prefecture, approaching Zhegui Prefecture. Xu Fengnian and Pei Nanwei rode side-by-side along a deep, secluded plank road. A hundred *li* further east lay Tongmen Pass, a natural stronghold renowned for controlling east-west access. It was said that "Tongmen Pass secure means Beiliang secure," making it unquestionably the most crucial pass within Zhegui Prefecture. It was heavily guarded, and Xin Yinma, the Tongmen Cavalry Commander, who commanded six thousand elite soldiers, was undoubtedly a trusted general highly valued by the Prince of Beiliang. When Xu Fengnian mobilized troops from various parts of Lingzhou, not a single soldier at Tongmen Pass was moved, which clearly demonstrated the pass's paramount importance in Lingzhou. Xu Fengnian did not allow Huang Xiaokuai's six hundred cavalry to follow; instead, he detoured ahead to Tongmen Pass to rest, taking only Pei Nanwei and Xu Yanbing with him to gallop along this secret plank road, which was exclusively for military horses. In the past, some officials' sons and military scions would come here to race their fine horses, but now, with a decree issued, no one wanted to run into trouble before the Lingzhou General's departure and bring bad luck upon themselves. Pei Nanwei decided to dismount from her carriage for some fresh air because she came from a scholarly family. She had heard that a poet-emperor from a previous dynasty had won first place among all frontier poems throughout history with a poem titled 'Lament for Tongmen,' which was how Zhegui Prefecture got its name. She also heard that a cliff carving by a swordsman was said to remain on the mountain wall ahead, and her heart longed to see it.

Xu Fengnian rode with his hands off the reins, eyes closed in concentration, letting his warhorse gallop freely. Pei Nanwei's equestrian skills were mediocre, but she was unafraid of falling and getting hurt. She removed her veil, draped herself in a large purple sable fur cloak, and rode a magnificent black horse. Amidst the swirling white snow, she looked like either a nimble butterfly or a peony swaying in the wind and snow. When Pei Nanwei stopped her horse and looked up at the blurred stone carving on the cliff, it turned out to be rather underwhelming, leaving her with a sense of disappointment after high expectations. This was especially true after Xu Fengnian mentioned that during the two-hundred-year reign of the previous dynasty alone, over twenty thousand bodies had been laid to rest near this very plank road. This sent shivers down Pei Nanwei's spine, and she lost all desire for leisurely contemplation.

Dusk was approaching, and heavy snow continued to fall relentlessly overhead. The plank road was eerily quiet and gloomy, and she was clearly somewhat afraid. She found herself making small talk, slowing her horse to ask the man beside her why, despite Beiliang's spies having eyes and ears everywhere, they couldn't uncover the true identities of that master and servant. Xu Fengnian extended his hand, collected a palmful of snowflakes, and nonchalantly squeezed them into a small, perfectly round snowball. He said, "Good spies are rarer and more valuable than those brave and skilled cavalry commanders and lieutenants. They must be able to endure years of loneliness, withstand countless conspiracies, and most crucially, remain consistently loyal. They also need to be capable of independent judgment, filter through various pieces of information, and then risk their lives to deliver it back. Therefore, it takes at least five or six years of training to produce a trustworthy and competent spy. Some old spies simply vanish, or they directly betray us to the enemy camp. The difficulty in intelligence work isn't just the arduous nature of a spy's job; it's also about testing a person's resilience. Not everyone is willing to do this kind of work. Previously, under Chu Lushan's command, the number of intelligence agents outside Beiliang across the thirty-plus states of Liyang, over a full two decades, amounted to barely over four hundred. And half of those had to be used for long-term operations. Distributed across over thirty states and two hundred counties, how many could there be in each county? Moreover, last year, many valuable spies who had been hidden for years were lost to ensure those scholars could safely reach Beiliang. Furthermore, while we in Beiliang meticulously work to eliminate Liyang and Beimang spies, Zhao Gou and the Spiderweb are never idle either. Between our three factions, many people die every year. It's fortunate that Chu Lushan oversees intelligence; if it were anyone else, Beiliang would have long since been blind. Having a formidable thirty thousand iron cavalry alone isn't enough to win major wars. In that southern campaign, the Beiliang iron cavalry advanced swiftly, but a significant portion of their military achievements must be credited to Beiliang's spies. Last time I went to Huangnan Prefecture, I was so focused on killing to vent my anger that I slaughtered several double agents. Afterwards, my sister scolded me, calling me a spendthrift who didn't understand the cost of living. She was absolutely right."

Xu Fengnian lightly tossed the snowball into the distance and softly said, "This world is truly vast; it's not easy to find one person."

Pei Nanwei glanced at him, unable to discern the Crown Prince's expression, yet she vaguely sensed an unusual touch of melancholy.

The wind howled and snow swirled. Tongmen Pass was still dozens of *li* away. Ordinarily, the distance wouldn't seem long, but now the plank road was covered in thick snow, and the horses' hooves sank deep. Even wrapped in her warm sable cloak, Pei Nanwei began to feel the hardship. Her equestrian skills, to an expert, were quite clumsy. Xu Fengnian noted the darkening sky, with signs of the snow intensifying, and their three horses were riding against the wind. Yet, Pei Nanwei insisted on traveling alone through the snow and night. Xu Fengnian observed coolly. When her mount unexpectedly slipped, her hands, already frozen and numb, lost their grip on the reins, and she tumbled onto the plank road, rolling once. Fortunately, the snow was soft, so she wasn't injured. Xu Fengnian reined in his horse and turned back, extending a hand. She, however, showed her mettle; she stood up, turned away, reached into the collar of her sable cloak to warm her hands with her body heat, gritted her teeth, remounted, and continued to ride forward. Xu Fengnian was too lazy to offer a sarcastic remark. He spurred his horse forward, accelerating to ride in front of her, shielding her from the biting cold wind. Finally, as they caught sight of Tongmen Pass's majestic walls and flickering lights, Pei Nanwei, who had persisted solely on sheer resentment, finally fainted and fell from her horse. Only then did Xu Fengnian lift her onto his horse and gallop quickly into the city.

Tongmen Cavalry Commander Wei Shaqing personally escorted the Crown Prince and led him into a simple official residence, devoid of any opulent display. When Pei Nanwei woke up with a splitting headache, she found herself in a room as warm as spring. Her fur cloak, soaked through with snow, had been removed, but her clothes were otherwise intact. The Princess of Jing'an, feeling as if she had just returned from the brink of death, slowly regained some composure. She turned her head and saw a brazier set up in the room, and a man, with his back to the bed, was brewing wine. The fragrant aroma wafted gently through the air. A hungry Pei Nanwei gathered her strength, put on a pair of brand-new, warm boots, and sat beside him, reaching out to warm herself. Xu Fengnian pointed to a redwood carved food box on a stool, signaling her to help herself, implying there was plenty to eat. Thoughtfully, he poured her a cup of piping hot, rich rice wine. Pei Nanwei lifted the lid of the food box and, without a thought for decorum, buried her head and ate ravenously. After finishing the first cup of wine, she asked for two more. A deep weariness soon enveloped her, but perhaps not trusting him, she fought against her drooping eyelids and did not go to bed. In truth, both of them understood that they were engaged in a silent wager: who would surrender first? Until then, they would keep their distance, like well water not mixing with river water, and she didn't need to deliberately feign a virtuous or chaste demeanor. Pei Nanwei forced her eyelids open and squinted at him. His face glowed vibrantly in the light of the charcoal fire. He had removed his outer garment, revealing a dark green soft armor that even an amateur like Pei Nanwei could tell was priceless. She bit her lip, trying to clear her head, and asked in a hoarse voice, "Why do you practice with a saber?"

Xu Fengnian seemed momentarily lost in thought, then shook his head. He said in a calm tone, "If I told you it was for fun, or that I once aspired to be a hero who drew his saber to right wrongs, you surely wouldn't believe me. If I said it was to save my life, you'd accuse me of not knowing how good I have it, feigning illness without cause."

Pei Nanwei poured herself a cup of wine, but instead of boldly downing it as before, she held the warm cup against her cheek and smiled, saying, "Regarding your original intention for practicing with a saber, I'm more inclined to believe the former."

Just as she finally found an interest in casual conversation, Xu Fengnian, conversely, seemed dispirited. He said indifferently, "We still have to travel tomorrow morning, so you get some sleep. Don't worry, I'll leave once I've had enough of sitting."

Pei Nanwei furrowed her naturally captivating brows. Still, she went to lie down on the bed, clutching the corner of the quilt with both hands. After a long silence, she turned on her side and looked at the man's back in the room.

Not long after, he used iron tongs to stir some ash over the charcoal, making the embers in the brazier burn slower, then rose and quietly left the room.

Xu Fengnian arrived at the top of Tongmen Pass's wall. Xu Yanbing and Wei Shaqing stood respectfully in the distance, discreetly not disturbing him.

Heavy snow fell continuously all night. By dawn, the green mountains were capped with white.

A lone rider and his attendant entered Zhegui Prefecture unimpeded. Ever since they first crossed into Beiliang's borders and intimidated several ant-like contingents of government soldiers, they had proceeded as if in an uninhabited land. The attendant, who possessed the strength of the Vajra realm, couldn't help but ask, "Young Master, has this Crown Prince of Beiliang perhaps hidden in fear? Does he really think that by hanging a 'no challenge' plaque, everything will be fine?"

The handsome young master, gently tapping his palm with a folding fan, admired the snowy scenery along the road. He scoffed, "Lezhang, Lezhang, you truly think with your backside. Did Han Diaosi spare your life back then because he considered it too dirty to kill you?"

The brawny attendant chuckled softly, not daring to retort in the slightest.

The young master opened and closed the peach blossom beauty folding fan in his hand, smiling faintly. "That Crown Prince is not so cowardly as to completely avoid confrontation, but I truly don't put him in my eyes. I am more eager to experience the left-handed saber of Yuan Zuozong, the White Bear. The world only knows Yuan the White Bear as the foremost expert in cavalry combat, but they don't know that he once sparred with General Gu Jiantang in saber techniques. After that, he switched to practicing with his left hand, intending to get his revenge on our General Gu someday. However, it won't be easy for me to meet Yuan the White Bear, the commander of the cavalry. Even if those Beiliang Iron Cavalry units in Lingzhou Prefecture are not at their best, they should not be underestimated. It just depends on how grand a welcoming display Xu Fengnian intends to put on. Lezhang, if it's just a small skirmish involving a few hundred cavalry, you can handle it. Remember one thing: broken arms and legs are fine, but no killing."

The Vajra realm attendant twisted his neck, which crackled like popping soybeans. He nodded with a sinister grin. "If that Crown Prince is petty enough to try to fool you with three or four hundred cavalry, no matter how solid their formation, it won't withstand a few charges from me."

The young master did not 'wear' his famous saber at his waist; instead, it was tied with a long vermillion rope, the other end of which was fastened to his wrist, letting it hang loosely, swaying by the horse's flank.

Lezhang glanced at the saber, his eyes showing a hint of apprehension.

That object was a weapon of comparable importance to the Nanhua Talisman Saber, renowned as the foremost saber in the world.

Its name, given by some unknown predecessor, seemed entirely uninspired, simply called 'Crossing the River.'

Lezhang, at least, was a prominent figure within the Demonic Cult. Before the Jiazi cycle, several Heavenly Demons went to the Demon-Slaying Platform to challenge the Great Immortal Qi Xuanzhen of Longhu Mountain. Not only did they fail to divide the world, but they were all slaughtered, leading to Zhulu Mountain's decline ever since. Twenty years ago, as an outer disciple of the Demonic Cult, Lezhang was barely considered a first-rate master, especially after reaching the First Rank. Feeling somewhat conceited, he rejected an invitation from one of Zhulu Mountain's last remaining elderly dukes; instead of entering the mountain and receiving a title, he unilaterally gathered a group of subordinates and rose in rebellion, declaring himself the leader of the Demonic Cult. He stirred up considerable bloodshed in the martial arts world, but before he could establish his dominance, he was intercepted by a grand eunuch in a vibrant red python robe. This 'human cat' came alone, and everyone else except Lezhang was flayed and had their tendons pulled. If Han Diaosi hadn't spared his life to uncover Zhulu Mountain's secret location, Lezhang would have died long ago. However, Zhulu Mountain never again requested him to join. For years, Lezhang had lived like a cornered rat, constantly on edge, fearing that the 'human cat' would dispose of him as useless. Only last year, when news of Han Diaosi's death reached the capital, did he weep with joy, contemplating a return to the martial arts world and a resurgence. Yet, he was beaten so badly by this young master in front of him, who claimed to be from Zhulu Mountain, that he couldn't recognize his own parents. The young man could even wield General Gu's 'Square Inch Thunder' and produced a ceaseless stream of secret techniques, including those from the Wu Family Sword Tomb and the Dongyue Sword Pool, which were never taught outside their sects. Furthermore, the few signature skills Lezhang himself possessed, the young man could effortlessly adapt and use for himself after merely observing them once. How could Lezhang not be terrified, even as a First Rank master?

Lezhang had to concede that there truly were martial arts prodigies born once in a century. Previously, it was predecessors like Wang Xianzhi and Li Chungang; in the future, it would most likely be the turn of this young master of the 'Crossing the River' saber.

The young master looked up and saw a peregrine falcon soaring past. He raised a charming smile and murmured to himself, "They're arriving a bit slowly, aren't they?"