Chapter 544: Great King and Little Demon Appear Together

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He Xinliang

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*The Novel*, by Feng Huo Xi Zhu Hou

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He Xinliang

Feng Huo Xi Zhu Hou

Xu Fengnian was bewildered. The "Zhao Gou," a mad dog used by Liyang to eliminate dissidents, had most of its command authority originally in the hands of a relative of Empress Zhao Zhi. Could it be that Tang Huaguan, this old spy, had received a secret order from Zhao Zhi? But how could Zhao Zhi be a compassionate woman? The friendship between the Xu and Zhao families was actually in two parts: one between Xu Xiao and the late emperor, and one between Xu Fengnian's mother and Zhao Zhi. However, both parts had vanished outside the Nine-Nine Pavilion during Xu Fengnian's last visit to the capital. Furthermore, there was a vast and powerful Northern Liang army separating the refugee lands from the Zhao Imperial family of Liyang. How could it be Zhao Zhi's turn to dictate terms? Xu Fengnian was suddenly startled. He dared to refuse even the Emperor's imperial decree, and while he didn't care about Zhao Zhi's machinations, he might have miscalculated something. This made Xu Fengnian feel a hint of unease. However, at this moment, he couldn't alter his established plan. At worst, he would use the simplest method: deal with whatever comes, and see who ends up as the mantis and who the oriole.

At the entrance, Gu Feiqing threw an iron spear to Zhong Liang, who was inside the door. The Demon Head Zhong weighed it, then skillfully executed a spear flourish, the shaft trembling with a subtle, pleasing arc. With the spear in hand, Zhong Liang's demeanor transformed instantly, no longer resembling the carefree, unburdened individual from before. He dragged the spear, its tip scraping loudly on the green brick ground. Zhong Liang's footsteps were erratic, sometimes fast, sometimes slow, seemingly random. In a few blinks, he had silently closed in on Xu Fengnian. Gripping the bottom of the iron spear, he swung it in a wide, straight arc, whipping it towards Xu Fengnian's forehead. Xu Fengnian wasn't foolish enough to block with both hands holding the spear; instead, he used his own iron spear, identical in style to Zhong Liang's, to obliquely parry, drawing an arc. The moment the two spears collided, Xu Fengnian immediately let go of his iron spear, not intending to absorb the impact's momentum. However, he didn't release it for long. Before the spear could be struck to the ground by the Demon Head Zhong, he seized it again a moment later, now with only the "lingering aura" of its internal energy remaining. To an outsider, it would seem Xu Fengnian had held tightly to his spear throughout, clashing head-on with Zhong Liang. Although Xu Fengnian had used a trick to evade the first dangerous surge of internal energy that had poured into the spear like a flood, the immense internal power Zhong Liang had imbued into his spear was unexpectedly vast. After gripping the spear, Xu Fengnian had to flick his wrist, using the "Collapse" technique to disperse the residual internal energy on the spear. However, in duels between masters, there are rarely prolonged, incessant battles like those of Spear Immortal Wang Xiu and Rune General Jiaping; often, one wrong step leads to many, and victory or defeat is decided instantly.

Only after employing the "Collapse" technique did Xu Fengnian dissipate the force from his own iron spear. Zhong Liang continued his aggressive assault with Wang Xiu's vertical arc stance, forcing Xu Fengnian, who had no room to maneuver, to maintain a horizontal spear defensive posture and once again endure the arc head-on. The last time, Xu Fengnian had used a clever trick, but this time it was Zhong Liang's turn. The "Arc" technique was genuine, but the spear tip, due to the "Collapse" technique, had exploded with a large cluster of protective aura. The rigid iron spear in Zhong Liang's hand had already bent into an unimaginably pliable semicircle, its tip pointing precisely at Xu Fengnian's face. One foot apart, the protective aura extended exactly one foot! Xu Fengnian either had to fully absorb the impact generated by the spear's "Arc" technique or risk attempting to use the flying sword from his sleeve to break through the "Collapse" technique's protective aura. Xu Fengnian unhesitatingly chose the former; showing off sword control to a sword master was akin to playing with fire. Xu Fengnian opted for the next best thing: as his body slid backward, he slightly bent his knees, using this to dissipate the immense internal energy flowing from Zhong Liang's arcing spear. Holding the iron spear, Zhong Liang was in no hurry to finish him off. Instead, he stayed close like a shadow, always keeping the spear tip a foot from Xu Fengnian's brow and eyes, not even immediately unleashing the instant "Collapse" technique. The protective aura flickered, appearing and disappearing, as this great demon, ranked second in Northern Mang, brazenly mocked Xu Fengnian.

The reason Zhong Liang could effortlessly display spear techniques no less impressive than Xu Fengnian's was undoubtedly due to his extraordinary talent. More importantly, two years prior, he had a high-profile peak battle in Northern Mang against Deng Mao, who had become one of the top ten martial artists in the world, renowned for his broken spear. Zhong Liang's profound understanding of spear combat was generally on par with Xu Fengnian's, who had the advantage of proximity to masters. However, Xu Fengnian currently possessed only a second-rank internal force on the surface, a significant gap compared to Zhong Liang. Furthermore, Zhong Liang was not one of those "reclusive masters" who stayed secluded, engaging in scholarly martial arts duels. The Demon Head Zhong had spent his entire life fighting. Therefore, in a pure spear-on-spear engagement between the two, Xu Fengnian's defeat was inevitable.

In terms of innate talent, Xu Fengnian was inferior to the old man in sheepskin who knew himself to be the world's foremost swordsman from the moment he first held a sword. He was inferior to Xuanyuan Jingcheng, who only ever read books but cultivated himself into a Confucian Saint. He was inferior to the woman who inexplicably mastered aerial sword control while practicing calligraphy, and to the charcoal peddler girl who was a born sword prodigy. There were many others, including Zhong Liang, whom Xu Fengnian would lose to among these talented martial artists. But when it came to risking his life, Xu Fengnian was, at the very least, not inferior to them, if not superior.

As Xu Fengnian retreated between two peach trees, nearing the palace wall, he ceased his retreat. He executed a small-arc spear maneuver, seemingly a desperate, waist-level arc strike meant to kill Zhong Liang. Zhong Liang remained calm and composed; he didn't withdraw his spear. Instead, its tip "slowly" pushed forward half a foot, revealing Xu Fengnian's desperate, life-for-life stance. It was as if Zhong Liang's aggression this time wasn't aimed at an overwhelming victory, causing him to deliberately conceal his strength. He was gambling, betting on whether Xu Fengnian dared to trade lives with him. Xu Fengnian didn't hesitate. His arcing spear continued its motion unabated. However, at the same time, his left hand gripped the Xiu Dong saber at his left waist. This saber, a gift from White Fox-Face, could be considered Xu Fengnian's most intimate and familiar "companion," having accompanied him through two journeys across the martial world of Liyang and Northern Mang. When Xu Fengnian, who walked the path of nurturing intent, gripped Xiu Dong, it was a completely different sight, akin to the unarmed Second Grand Consort of the Dragon King's Residence transforming into the spear-wielding Demon Head Zhong.

Zhong Liang's eyes grew colder, and the flow of internal energy within him accelerated, followed by a torrent of thoughts. At this critical juncture of trading lives, this kid still wasn't thinking of escaping through unconventional means. Instead, was he worried that the arcing spear might sweep him dead at the waist, and that only by delivering one last strike before dying could he rest assured? Could it be that this kid truly didn't regard the King of Northern Liang as a mere vassal? Did he really possess the determination to perish together? Zhong Liang's gaze instantly turned fervent; he no longer hesitated. The protective aura at the spear tip resembled blazing charcoal thrown from a furnace. As Xu Fengnian's iron spear swept against Zhong Liang, the Demon Head Zhong's spear tip, along with its aura, slammed into Xu Fengnian's brow area. In a flash, even the immensely powerful Zhong Liang was sent flying ten meters across, yet he still couldn't retreat unscathed. A deep, bone-revealing gash was torn open on his shoulder. Zhong Liang looked at the young man who had crashed through the palace wall. Compared to Zhong Liang, his condition was far more tragic. He had already discarded his iron spear, and his saber was sheathed. Not only was there a crimson spot on his brow, but the area between his eyes was a bloody mess. However, fine red threads, like slender crimson snakes, climbed from his sleeves, up his arms, then from his neck upwards, crawling from his temples to his eyebrows, a sight that was utterly chilling. Zhong Liang was clearly somewhat annoyed and mumbled, "This saber technique is a bit like Gu Jiantang's half-baked 'Square Inch Thunder.' As for this Dragon Attachment Art, could it be the Human Cat's 'Profound Finger'?"

Zhong Liang sighed, looking at this new King of Liang, who had given him such a pleasant surprise, with a pitying gaze. "If I had known, I would have used a bit more strength. Perhaps you could have done even better. Unfortunately, my part is over now."

Zhou Junchen, the Lord of Qingcang, cowered within the Golden Throne Hall. One hand supported a golden lacquered pillar, the other tightly gripped the carved dragon jade pendant hanging from his waist, his expression tense. He knew his true status: merely a puppet. The three grand consorts ostensibly fulfilled all of Qingcang's requests, yet none of them truly took him seriously. Zhou Junchen stared at the back of an old man with his hands tucked into his sleeves. This elder was the third grand consort of the residence, a native of Southern Xinjiang, skilled in medicinal poisons and sorcery. Not only was he adept at killing and saving lives, but his methods of torture were even more bizarre and varied. To this day, Zhou Junchen had not figured out the exact origins of the three grand consorts. Qingcang's intelligence network had always been virtually non-existent; it wasn't that Zhou Junchen didn't want to exert himself to improve it, but rather that he lacked the capability. Qingcang barely survived, squeezed between several powerful factions. Just procuring hundreds of sets of armor and weaponry had already exhausted Zhou Junchen's ingenuity. Moreover, for a small dynasty amidst chaotic times, two matters most directly indicated its national strength: not cultivating retainers, raising enforcers, or building lavish mansions, but rather the training of soldiers for a thousand days to be used in one battle – meaning the number of armored soldiers. Maintaining an army was a bottomless pit, and deploying one even more so. Winning battles was fine, but losing meant heavy losses, easily dragging down a regime that claimed sovereignty but lacked a stable foundation. The other crucial matter was collecting military intelligence. This was an extremely costly endeavor, a "gold-swallowing Pixiu." Many scraps of information on secret letters were obtained at the cost of blood and lives.

Previously, the head of the Dragon King's Residence intelligence unit had sworn that the young vassal king had infiltrated alone and that Northern Liang had not made any large-scale military movements. Zhou Junchen's original intention was to probe slightly, then engage in a king-to-king meeting, sitting down together to enjoy fine wine and beautiful women, and have a good discussion. If this youngest prince of the Liyang Dynasty truly had sincerity, Zhou Junchen wouldn't mind serving as a Prefect under Northern Liang's rule, or perhaps even a general with real authority. If there was no sincerity, it wouldn't be too late to break ties and kill. Unfortunately, first, that old man Tang Huaguan insisted on using the talisman formation, which was considered the Dragon King's Residence's grandest creation. Then, the third grand consort and Cavalry General Jiang Heng both concurred. The second grand consort, Liang Zhong, who claimed to be a remnant of the Spring and Autumn period but spoke with a Northern Mang accent, remained as indifferent as ever, choosing to stand by and watch. This completely disrupted Zhou Junchen's plans. He could only hope that Xu Fengnian would die outside the hall, and ideally, that Northern Liang would subsequently collapse in turmoil. Otherwise, he would have no choice but to take a contingent of personal guards and flee to the even more barren and desolate Western Regions. Zhou Junchen sighed, turning to look back at the gleaming golden dragon throne. Then he turned again, standing on tiptoe to gaze at the scene outside the hall, lost in thought. Suddenly, Zhou Junchen felt his scalp tingle. He slowly turned around and saw three men and one woman whom he had never met before: two adult men and a pair of youngsters. The boy was a chubby child, currently rolling around on the spacious dragon throne, seemingly enjoying the sensation. The girl was no beauty either; her appearance was ordinary, though her fair skin hid a multitude of flaws. If she were placed among the concubines and palace maids of the Dragon King's Residence, Zhou Junchen, who found no pleasure without meat or women, wouldn't even spare her a glance. The girl was squatting by the throne, opening her mouth to take a fierce bite, as if to verify whether the dragon throne was made of pure gold.

Zhou Junchen could ignore these two mischievous children, but the two men, whose ages differed by about a decade, filled him with dread.

The slightly younger man was of imposing stature, born with the unusual appearance of having "eyes but no pupils," though calling him blind seemed inaccurate.

Beside the imposing man stood a short man dressed in Northern Mang's Northern Dynasty attire, presenting a rough-hewn profile to Zhou Junchen. He extended a hand to stroke the dragon throne, his touch extremely slow, as if both longing and mocking.

Dressed in a formal imperial yellow dragon robe, Zhou Junchen swallowed hard. He dared not utter a sound, not even breathe deeply.

The short man smiled, not looking at Zhou Junchen, and softly asked, "Compared to the one in Liyang's Golden Throne Hall, is this dragon throne bigger or smaller?"

Zhou Junchen, who had some understanding of the Northern Mang language, cautiously replied, "Much smaller."

The man nodded, withdrew the hand that had been stroking the dragon throne, and turned to face Zhou Junchen. Half of his face was crisscrossed with scars, and he rubbed a thumb over one of them.

Upon seeing this, Zhou Junchen, recalling a rumor, was struck with horror and stumbled back a few steps.

During the Northern Liang cavalry's furthest northern advance, there was a young military genius from the Northern Mang Imperial family. He maximized the effectiveness of raiding cavalry, using a vastly outnumbered force to thoroughly defeat two Liyang generals, who are still alive today, on the eastern front. Finally, he had the audacity to rush to the aid of the western front, engaging in several direct confrontations with the then-unstoppable Northern Liang Iron Cavalry. Not only did he not fall into a disadvantage, he even gained a slight upper hand. This continued until, in a place called Chijin, he was strategically ambushed by Li Yishan and entangled by a stout man named Chu, who was also skilled in independent cavalry raids. Both sides had three thousand cavalry; they maneuvered, attacked, and fought each other for over eight hundred li. By the end, the Northern Mang imperial relative had not a single soldier left, and the man named Chu was not much better off, with only eighty-odd cavalry remaining! Although that decisive battle, which shook the million-strong armies on both eastern and western fronts, was not enough to unilaterally decide the overall situation, it left almost all generals in awe.

At the same time, this unassuming man was the most legitimate scion of Northern Mang's imperial lineage, the half-brother of Empress Murong — Murong Baoding!

Murong Half-Face Buddha, was entirely thanks to Chu Lushan, the current Protector-General of Northern Liang.

This person was not only a military genius but also a true martial arts prodigy, surpassing even the Grand Vajra realm, his indestructible body comparable to the white-robed monks of Liangchan Temple.

Murong Baoding, the Legate of Orange Prefecture in Northern Mang, saw Zhou Junchen's cowardice and smiled. "Recognized me?"

Then the short man pointed to the refined-looking man with no pupils beside him. "You should be afraid of him instead. He is Hong Jingyan, the co-lord of the Rouran Three Garrisons Iron Cavalry."

Hong Jingyan?

Although he was driven from the fourth position in the world to the sixth by the world's greatest demon, did being sixth in the world mean he was no longer a master?

And adding Murong Baoding, also one of the world's top ten masters – what did their presence together in Qingcang signify?

Zhou Junchen, who greatly feared death, had already come to terms with his fate. Only one thought filled his mind: "That King of Northern Liang outside the hall is dead for sure!"

Collapse replies:[2014-02-17 23:31] Me fat, we are true love.[2014-02-17 23:31] Money[2014-02-17 23:31] 1[2014-02-17 23:31] Squeezed[2014-02-17 23:32] Oh damn[2014-02-17 23:32] Fake front[2014-02-17 23:32] Reply to TooDark: Heimei didn't even @ me[2014-02-17 23:33] Reply to HeShengSiShi: Muah. Didn't you come here, demon?[2014-02-17 23:34] Reply to TooDark: Only one update tonight?[2014-02-17 23:36]

6 more replies, collapse replies:[2014-02-17 23:34] ...Heimei...[2014-02-17 23:44] Any more updates?

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