Chapter 547

Having recently read many excellent book reviews, I'm inspired to join the discussion.

The first volume of *Sword Snow Stride* concludes with the domineering declaration, "I'll teach you to hang Beiliang blades all over the city," making for a truly magnificent finish. I've been following the story since its inception, for over half a year now. It truly leaves a lingering, unforgettable impression.

The world of martial arts, the imperial court, duels between immortals, and personal romances are all interwoven by the protagonist with his dual blades. What appears chaotic is, in fact, meticulously organized. It's well-known that Fenghuo, as a writer, excels at intricate plotting, enjoys setting up mysteries, and is skilled in sophistry, but has struggled with concluding grand narratives. Consequently, his previous works often felt anticlimactic due to overly ambitious early setups, making later resolutions difficult. Even *The Overlord* and *God of Heaven* remain unfinished. However, observant readers will notice that *Sword Snow Stride* has progressed at a steady pace. While it doesn't lay out too many mysteries, its scope is considerable. If *Top Grade* was characterized by sharp, decisive strokes, then *Sword Snow Stride* is like embroidering with a blade—every word, every detail, seems to be under the author's precise control. While I wouldn't go so far as to say it's perfectly flawless, a closer reading reveals a remarkable sense of effortlessness. Fenghuo has stated this is his most dedicated book; whether that's entirely true or not, at the very least, you can feel his meticulous craftsmanship.

The first volume, now at 700,000 characters, was penned by Fenghuo with a calm, steady hand. Crown Prince Xu Fengnian, on his white horse, journeyed south from Beiliang, visiting Wudang Mountain and then Longhu Mountain. He faced certain death in the reed marshes before finding a new path, and outside Xiangfan City, he provoked a night of spirits. He raised his wine cup to the heavens on the Imperial City Wall, and at Guangling Tide, two individuals and one sword stained Dayanjie with blood. While his exploits may not match the audaciousness of his father's martial sweep across the land in his youth, the sheer breadth of his involvement, to some extent, suggests that the young phoenix's cry surpasses the old phoenix's song.

From renowned martial arts sects to influential bureaucratic clans and even powerful magnates who control everything, our Crown Prince truly embodies a fierce spirit. No matter how eminent a master or how vast a power, he confronts them without hesitation. Whether he relies on the undiminished prowess of the old sword god by his side or the 300,000 Beiliang cavalry commanded by his father, his sheer audacity alone is enough to stir one's blood and declare: "Like father, like son!"

The stunning conclusion of the first volume was truly magnificent, and now the author is determined to write about the grassroots martial arts world in the second volume. Though only a few chapters have been released, they exude a profound depth that resonates deeply with me. This is clearly more to my taste. After reading the first volume, Fengnian, in my eyes, was merely a grand dissolute with an extraordinary background—at best, less ostentatious and more refined than an ordinary rich young master. Therefore, I am even more eager to see how Fengnian will fare in the lower echelons of the jianghu. Without Li Chungang, whose "sword could fell mountains," by his side, facing peril, will he still be able to converse and remain composed? When his life hangs by a thread and he embraces the certainty of death, what brilliance will he unleash? The martial arts world is nine parts perilous; when raising a blade to kill, can one retain that precious one part of kindness? They say a good writer can draw readers into their story, and I am utterly captivated.

Having shared my general impressions, I'd now like to discuss the unique jianghu that Fenghuo depicts in this book.

In my view, this book leans more towards Wuxia, featuring the intrigues of various sects and the romantic entanglements of wandering heroes. There are also a few masters who, once they emerge from seclusion, are practically god-like. However, the book also incorporates elements of Eastern fantasy and mysticism, such as the three lifetimes of cultivation of the ox-riding sage, and Li Chungang's sword opening the Heavenly Gate. In essence, this is a jianghu imbued with spiritual energy. Below, I will discuss a few aspects of this jianghu that have made me ponder.

**I. Machinations in the Imperial Court: Beyond the Splendor of the Powerful**

Even when reading Fenghuo's urban novels, I appreciated his portrayal of officialdom. While not as breathtaking as some other authors', his depictions captured a realistic undercurrent of intrigue.

When he began this new book, the author mentioned two main storylines for *Sword Snow Stride*: one concerning the martial arts world and one concerning the imperial court. This was a pleasant surprise and sparked some anticipation: Chinese culture boasts 5,000 years of brilliance, including 2,000 years of feudal imperial rule, evolving from feudal lords to centralized power, and then to powerful regional officials and military governors. There were periods of power consolidation and decentralization. Many historical archetypes could be drawn upon, and I wondered which approach *Sword Snow Stride* would take.

Given Fenghuo's grand scope, how would he immerse us in this flourishing and glorious Liyang Dynasty?

As *Sword Snow Stride* progresses, this mystical world slowly unveils itself before us:

Western Shu, a land of abundant resources, beautiful people, and scholars as numerous as trees.Northern Mang, towering in the north with its fierce populace.Western Chu, spanning five thousand *li*, with a million spear-wielding soldiers and a populace entirely militarized.

Recalling them with closed eyes, each scene radiates profound beauty—what a magnificent landscape!

Having discussed the grand backdrop, let's now turn to the leaders within the imperial court.

A defining characteristic of the author is his use of characters to drive the narrative, making his characterizations exceptionally brilliant. I believe the most unforgettable character is Xu Xiao, who, with his formidable military might, single-handedly annihilated six kingdoms—another "tiger-like" man from the author's pen. Rising to Grand Pillar of the State in civilian office and a non-imperial prince in military rank, Xu Xiao's status was built upon mountains of corpses. His slight limp is a consequence of carrying the burden of 300,000 fallen souls on his shoulders. Yet, when this awe-inspiring man sheds his cloak of immense power, he is merely a stooped old man, a father with hands tucked into his sleeves, silently awaiting his son's return. As a subject, he fought countless battles in the desert, earning illustrious merits. He once shared drinks with the late emperor on his imperial bed. As a father, he is kind, loving, and adept at raising his son. Even in his old age, he has no regrets in life. What does it matter if he bears the infamous title of "Butcher"? Throughout history, both ancient and modern, within China and abroad, which hero has not been simultaneously praised and reviled across the land?

The imperial court, for all its eminence, is also a lonely and cold place at the top. Why did Jing'an King Zhao Yi, a man of gloomy and cautious disposition, uncharacteristically attempt to assassinate Xu Fengnian in the reed marshes? Why did Guangling King Zhao Yi initially risk sacrificing 8,000 of his elite Bei Kui soldiers just to keep the Crown Prince in Guangling? It was nothing more than a desire to secure a century of stability for the court and a splendid future for his own son. Fenghuo's villains, upon closer examination, often possess a touch of the anti-hero. Thus, when the recent chapters depicted Prince Zhao Piao's grotesque gluttony for money and women, I didn't find it repulsive. Instead, I found the chubby young prince strangely humorous.

In the intricate machinations of the imperial court, one cannot simply dismiss the powerful as corrupt. To be human, whether a person of high standing or low, is never easy.

**II. Great Masters, Yet Troubled by the Mortal World**

As I mentioned earlier, if there is a jianghu, there must naturally be a few individuals who are as close to immortals as one can get, otherwise, wouldn't this jianghu be dull? However, these "immortals" are not hermits detached from the world as I once imagined; instead, they are deeply embroiled and troubled by mundane affairs. This, too, can be considered a major characteristic of this jianghu.

The old Wudang Patriarch, Wang Chonglou, is the first extensively described and most "immortal-like" old Daoist priest in this book. He is the first person in Wudang's history to cultivate the Grand Yellow Court. Breaking through his seclusion, he could cleave the vast waters with two fingers. Yet, despite being at the peak of his power, he swiftly retreated, dispersing his lifelong cultivation merely to ensure Wudang's prosperity for a hundred years. Is it tear-worthy? Is it lamentable?

Walking on the Guangling Tide, debating Dao with Qi Xuanzhen on the Demon Slaying Platform—Li Chungang, wielding his sword in green robes, truly achieved success in his youth, full of vigor and ambition. However, even a hero faces a tribulation of love. Though he could split the sea with a single sword stroke, he could not sever the thread of affection in his heart. People are always like this: they enjoy gazing into the distance from a high stage, yet neglect the scenery around them. It was only when the woman in green ultimately died by his sword that he realized she had long since entered his heart, unforgettable for the rest of his life. From then on, the vibrant Sword God was no more; all that remained was a slovenly old man. The world only saw his drastic fall in cultivation, but how many truly knew the sorrow in his heart?

Sorrow. The deepest sorrow is lovesickness, the furthest distance is that between life and death.

At Daxueping, the familiar old scenery remains, but the old companion is gone. With a single cry of "Sword, come!", what desolation lies behind the grand spirit? After his battle with Wang Xianzhi, he should have leveraged the momentum to return to his peak, yet he chose to leave the jianghu. While a part of this was certainly weariness of martial arts entanglements, I believe it was more about his inability to let go of the woman in green.

Longhu Mountain's old immortal, Zhao Xuansu, risked dissolving his very being to transfer his fortune to Xu Fengnian, protecting Longhu Mountain. Wudang's ox-riding Martial Uncle Ancestor cultivated for a thousand years simply to see the woman in red again. At these moments, they are no longer immortals; they only wish to burn brightly for a lifetime, seeking what they have yearned for all their lives. Are they not admirable?

These great masters are not aloof; they possess less detachment and more human warmth and earthly vitality.

**III. A Thousand Beauties, Like Dunhuang's Flying Apsaras**

Seeing the title of this section, I presume you've already guessed what I'm about to write about. That's right, women.

To quote Fenghuo: "What is the jianghu? It is a string of pearls. Women are those pearls, threading together grudges and affections, forming the jianghu."

Previously in the book review section, I saw someone comment that the women penned by the author could rival those in *Dream of the Red Chamber*. While this might be an exaggeration, it's not entirely unfounded. In my opinion, the numerous female characters in *Sword Snow Stride* are a major highlight of the book. These pearls, some smooth and brilliant, others with inner beauty refined, are like the flying apsaras of Dunhuang—each distinct in appearance, yet harmoniously beautiful. Their essences blend seamlessly, achieving a rounded perfection. They greatly enrich the book.

The eldest sister, in red with a yellow crane motif, possessing natural charm; Qingniao, in snow-white robes, a woman like a dragon. Haha Gu Liang, steadfast in her convictions, with feelings stronger than gold; and Wang Dongxiang, the brilliant young girl experiencing her first stirrings of love... Truly, they encompass every imaginable beauty.

Fenghuo's skill in portraying women is subtle yet vibrant. Often, with just a few strokes, he can create a female character that resonates deeply, even bringing tears to the eyes. Take the peerlessly graceful Princess of Wu, for instance: Fenghuo never directly describes her, only occasionally mentions her, yet paints a vivid picture. At the mere mention of her, one's mind conjures the image of a white-robed woman, clad in mourning white, striking the Fish-Dragon with her sword, showcasing unparalleled elegance.

If I were to ask myself, what more could I ask for in this life than to have a woman in white robes willingly conceal her brilliance for me? Haha, just a wish, just a wish...

It is said: "Since ancient times, beauties, like famous generals, are not permitted to see white hair in the mortal world." Fenghuo's books are never lacking in tragic female characters who bring readers to tears. Sometimes I ask myself, if one of the women in the book were to perish young, which one would it be? Upon reflection, I find I wouldn't want to lose any of them. The departure of Jianjia and Huli once pained me for quite a while, and even now, recalling it, I still find it difficult to accept.

Finally, I earnestly implore Fenghuo, please don't let these beloved women leave us. Even if it would elevate the work, it would be far too heartbreaking...

**Conclusion**"Which child doesn't have a jianghu in their heart?"

Xu Fengnian smiled, generously unfastening his sabre and handing it to the child.

The child's eyes brimmed with irrepressible joy and surprise as he embraced the not-so-heavy Spring Thunder Sabre with both hands.

"It was as if, so simply, he had embraced the jianghu."

Thank you, Fenghuo, for awakening the jianghu of my childhood heart. You write at your pace, and I will read at mine. Let us together guard this unique jianghu.

From the reader: Peerless Scholar 010Z.