Chapter 723: Spring and Autumn Thirteen Jia

Behind the mountain, a forest of steles had formed. Stone tablets were everywhere, with many more under construction. Most were still blank, but hundreds on the outer perimeter had already been inscribed with red cinnabar. These commemorated the Dragon Elephant Cavalry who fell at the end of the Xiangfu era, during the battle where they intercepted the Northern Mang Qiang cavalry in Liuzhou.

An ancient saying stated that strokes drawn with ink appeared thin, whereas those done with vermilion ink looked "full," thus cinnabar calligraphy was considered superior when executed with vigorous and firm strokes. The individuals tasked with inscribing these steles were two long-renowned calligraphers from Northern Liang. Mi Qiong and Peng Henian, both elderly, lived in separate regions of Liang—north and south—giving rise to the saying "Southern Tendon, Northern Bone." These two respected calligraphers, now in their seventies, had maintained a life-long rivalry, seemingly avoiding each other. Furthermore, during General Xu Xiao's lifetime, they were quite critical of Northern Liang's military and political affairs. However, after the Northern Liang King's Residence announced its intention to erect 300,000 steles, Mi Qiong arrived first at Qingliang Mountain by himself. After asking a few questions and receiving answers, he settled there and then wrote a letter to Peng Henian. The letter's gist was: "You grandson, Peng, do you dare come face your grandpa and compete?"

Soon after, Peng Henian brought his cherished set of Four Treasures of the Study to Qingliang Mountain as well, building a hut next to Mi Qiong's. These old adversaries, in the end, became neighbors. Then, amidst the two elders' "exchanges"—or more accurately, their red-faced arguments—Deputy Military Commissioner Song Dongming personally delivered a list to them. It contained names, along with two simple pieces of information: when and where they were born, and when and where they died.

Initially, the two old men still harbored a desire to outdo each other with their inscriptions. However, when Mi Qiong wrote one particular name, he suddenly burst into tears. "Liu Hongyi," he choked out, "is a young man from Chunshui County in Lingzhou. When he was a child, he was terribly naughty, relying on his family's military background. I even scolded him, saying he wasted such a fine name. This child was only twenty-one years old. How could he just die?"

After that, Mi Qiong and Peng Henian grew increasingly silent. Apart from brief exchanges with the stonemasons responsible for carving the characters after their cinnabar inscriptions, they rarely spoke.

Today, when Mi Qiong and Peng Henian heard that someone had arrived at the stele forest, their hearts tightened. With a mix of emotions, they gathered their belongings and rushed to see, only to find that the Northern Liang King himself had arrived. The old men were unaccustomed to bowing, so their gestures of respect were clumsy. Xu Fengnian quickly helped them to their feet, skipping any formal pleasantries. After a slight hesitation, he divided a stack of Xuan paper into four portions: one for himself, one for Song Dongming, and the remaining half equally between the two calligraphy masters, Mi and Peng. The four silently began to inscribe the steles with cinnabar. Behind each of them, two to three skilled craftsmen stood ready with their tools, waiting to carve the inscriptions. In the twilight, the clang of metal on stone soon resonated. Xu Fengnian and Song Dongming finished their inscriptions about half an hour earlier than the two old men. By the time Mi Qiong completed his last one, darkness had fallen. His hands stained with vermilion, Mi Qiong didn't bother to wipe them. The old man, looking weary, walked over to Xu Fengnian and, with unconcealed reproach in his voice, asked in a deep tone, "Why are there battles everywhere, even in the heart of Youzhou?"

Xu Fengnian softly replied, "Northern Mang spies and assassins have infiltrated and are widely assassinating Youzhou officials..."

Mi Qiong immediately pointed at Xu Fengnian's nose, stamping his feet and cursing loudly, "When your father was alive, Northern Mang assassins also launched sneak attacks, but they were always stopped beyond the pass! How are you serving as this Northern Liang King?! Aren't you, Xu Fengnian, the greatest master under heaven? Do you just stand by and stare all day?! You watch our Liang people die, then you collect their bodies afterwards and falsely inscribe a few names?!"

Song Dongming was about to speak, but Xu Fengnian, draped in a thick fur robe, waved a hand, stopping the Deputy Military Commissioner from explaining. Looking at the old man, he said apologetically, "I haven't done well enough."

Peng Henian's temper was not as fiery as Mi Qiong's, but he also harbored some anger. Nevertheless, he tugged at the latter's sleeve.

When Xu Fengnian had walked a considerable distance away, a grim-faced Mi Qiong spat heavily at his retreating back. He then violently smashed the invaluable "Zile Han" inkstone, shaped like a crab shell and bluish-green, onto the ground. "I'm not writing anymore! I'm not staying in Northern Liang either! I'm going to Jiangnan! For however many days I have left, I'll spend them writing the eight large characters: 'Xu Fengnian is a bastard!'"

Not long after, Song Dongming returned the way he came. He saw Mi Qiong standing with his eyes closed, and Peng Henian squatting on the ground, sighing deeply. No one had bothered to pick up the inkstone. Song Dongming bent down and retrieved the famed inkstone, not immediately returning it. He looked towards the summit of Qingliang Mountain and said in a deep voice, "You two old gentlemen have probably never heard of Huang Qing, 'Sword Qi Approaching' of Northern Mang, nor of the Ancestor of the Bronze Man of Qijian Yuefu, nor of their true capabilities. You certainly wouldn't have seen a true dragon; in fact, I, Song Dongming, haven't either. But I know two things: first, Huang Qing died in Liuzhou, and the true dragon nurtured by Northern Mang is also gone. Along with them, hundreds of qi practitioners hiding in Northern Mang's Western Capital also perished. Second, there are two steles here that almost had two names carved on them, both coincidentally surnamed Xu: Xu Longxiang and Xu Fengnian."

Song Dongming turned and handed the ancient inkstone back to Mi Qiong, smiling openly. "If Northern Liang were truly gone one day, Xu Fengnian would certainly be among those on the steles, and of course, I, Song Dongming, an outsider, would also be there. At that time, I hope Old Mi won't be unwilling to write for us."

After speaking, Song Dongming slowly departed. Peng Henian deliberately avoided looking at Mi Qiong's flushed face, counting on his fingers as if to himself, "Xu Fengnian is a bastard... Huh? Wait, Old Mi, you miscounted. That's nine characters, not eight as you said."

Mi Qiong carefully put away the ancient inkstone, rolling his eyes. "'Mi Qiong is a bastard,' how's that? Exactly eight characters!"

Peng Henian burst into laughter. "Of course, why not? Aren't you having a big birthday in a few days? How about I write something for you?"

Mi Qiong, forgetting his usual decorum, retorted indignantly, "Write nothing of the sort!"

Afterward, the two old men did not immediately leave the stele forest. Instead, just as before, they went to meticulously examine the stone carvers' inscriptions to prevent any mistakes or oversights. Generally, even with cinnabar inscriptions, stonemasons who carve with chisels often possess vastly different calligraphic skills compared to the original calligrapher, frequently resulting in distorted forms and diminished spirit. Although Mi Qiong and Peng Henian were not overly demanding, they still strived for perfection, perhaps feeling it was the only thing they could do well. Nevertheless, the artisans in the stele forest were generally satisfactory. While their skill didn't reach the realm of being "only slightly inferior to the original masterpiece," it was sufficient to convey five or six tenths of the original cinnabar inscription's charm. The stonemasons' meticulous carving was naturally much slower than writing with a brush. Mi Qiong, holding a lantern, checked the steles one by one. Suddenly, he heard Peng Henian urgently calling him from nearby. Mi Qiong thought a craftsman had carved a wrong character. He rushed over to see, but unexpectedly, Peng Henian was standing in front of a row of steles, with no stonemasons working there. He only saw Old Man Peng squatting in front of a stele with a lantern, practically pressing his eyes to it, as if he had discovered a true masterpiece by a calligraphy saint. Mi Qiong leaned in to look and saw that it was the Northern Liang King Xu Fengnian's cinnabar inscription. At first glance, both its artistry and meaning were commendable, but in Mi Qiong's opinion, while certainly of high quality, it was still a long way from a "divine grade" and hardly enough to cause Peng Henian such a commotion.

Peng Henian, without turning his head, reached out to touch the carved lines. He quickly stumbled backward, falling to the ground, his eyes tightly closed as tears streamed uncontrollably. He dropped the lantern, covered his face with his hands, his expression one of extreme pain, and pointed at the stele, shouting, "Old Mi, come closer, open your eyes wide and look! But whatever you do, remember not to look for too long! Be careful!"

Mi Qiong raised his lantern and, upon closer inspection, felt a sharp chill rush over him, making him feel as if he stood before a deep abyss.

This was clearly not due to Xu Fengnian's cinnabar inscription, but rather the "dotting the eyes of the dragon" effect achieved by the person who carved the characters!

Mi Qiong's eyes indeed quickly stung. After closing them, he vigorously shook his head and murmured, "The starting and ending strokes are decisive, like a Kun knife cutting jade! This is not something a skilled stonemason in this world could carve in a short time. It truly is the work of a ghost and a god!"

Peng Henian sat on the ground, rubbing his eyes, and sighed, "Someone must have written it with their finger. That's the only way to explain it."

Mi Qiong said incredulously, "Using fingers as swords or blades is something most martial arts grandmasters can do, but skills have their specializations. There's absolutely no one in this era who could write with such grace and charm!"

Peng Henian gave a bitter smile. "Could it be a ghost or a god?"

Mi Qiong stood up, holding the lantern, and looked towards the night sky. "I used to disbelieve in ghosts and gods, but now I truly hope they exist in this world, to protect my Northern Liang and help us utterly defeat Northern Mang!"

Peng Henian slapped his head. "Quickly, have someone tell the King about this, before any complications arise."

Soon, Xu Fengnian arrived with hurried steps. Beside him, holding lanterns, were a man and a woman of vastly different ages: Mi Fengjie, the master of Sunken Sword Cave, whose cultivation was still steadily climbing, and Fan Xiaochai, an assassin descended from former Northern Han nobility. While Mi Fengjie had achieved nothing notable during the Youzhou spy battle, having been tasked with guarding Huangfu Ping, Fan Xiaochai had slain—or rather, brutally massacred—Cui Wazi, the Law-Enforcing Master of the Daoist Sect, on a clock tower in Changgeng City. When agents from Wutong Courtyard and Fushui Pavilion ascended the tower to clean up the aftermath, they discovered a truly horrific scene on that floor: fragmented flesh scattered everywhere and walls covered in bloodstains. At the time, everyone saw Fan Xiaochai sitting on the outer corridor railing, toying with a fly whisk, a relic of the Finger-Mysteries master. She appeared not as an exceptionally powerful top assassin, but rather as an innocent and carefree young girl.

Xu Fengnian squatted in front of a stele. Beside him was a middle-aged man who also served as the leader of the Northern Liang King's Residence guards. The latter, feeling apprehensive, reported, "We've found him. This stonemason is named Wu Jiang, which is likely an alias. He's been a third-class servant in the residence for sixteen years and four months, nicknamed 'Old Ginger Block' because he always enjoyed eating a piece of ginger with his meals and drinks. Last year, when the stele forest recruited artisans, Wu Jiang was transferred here from the King's Residence. Your Royal Highness, this is due to my inefficiency and poor judgment in discerning people. Please punish me!"

Xu Fengnian shook his head. "It has nothing to do with you. Don't blame yourself."

Xu Fengnian slowly stood up and turned to Mi Fengjie, asking, "What do you make of it?"

Mi Fengjie said in a deep voice, "I only saw one character, one sword, and sword qi."

Xu Fengnian smiled. "Wu Jiang, Wu Jiang. 'Wu' meaning 'none,' 'Jiang.' Does this imply that the great Chu of the Jiang family now knows no bounds?"

Xu Fengnian softly said, "This person has no ill intent. You don't need to investigate this matter any further."

Xu Fengnian returned to Qingliang Mountain and walked towards the tomb where his parents rested. After Xu Xiao's death, Xu Fengnian later built a cenotaph for his master, Li Yishan, beside it. Xu Fengnian walked alone into the tomb path, recalling many past events. His master had said that among all characters in the world, those on steles were the most sorrowful, because epitaphs were written by the living for the departed. The deeper the affection of the writer, the more poignant and imbued with spirit the inscription would be. According to his wishes, Li Yishan's ashes were scattered across the yellow sands of the northwest frontier. His master had originally not wanted a tomb, but Xu Fengnian had taken it upon himself to build a cenotaph, simply without an epitaph, just like the stele forest behind Qingliang Mountain. It only listed the name and the dates and places of birth and death. He believed his master's spirit in heaven would not be too angry about this.

Xu Fengnian felt that Huang Longshi had died; it was merely a strange sensation, but he was deeply convinced.

Of the three great demons of the Spring and Autumn period, Han Shengxuan, the Human Cat, died by Xu Fengnian's hand. Xu Xiao, the Human Butcher, was gone. Huang Longshan, the "three-inch tongue" who stirred up the Spring and Autumn, was also gone. All three were no longer among the living.

Of the Thirteen Masters of Spring and Autumn, Huang Longshi alone held three ranks, priding himself as first in the Nineteen Ways, first in Cursive Script, and first in Yin-Yang Prophecy, thus occupying the titles of Chess Master, Calligraphy Master, and Calculation Master.

Sword Master Li Chungang died. War Master Ye Baikui, the Military Saint of Western Chu, died in the Battle of Xileibi, an event that elevated Chen Zhibao. The peerless "Beauty Master," the Empress of Great Chu, also passed away. The Zither Master, the blind zither player of old Southern Tang, drowned himself in the river with his zither after the kingdom fell. Painting Master Zhou Yufu of Western Shu, before his death, painted a long scroll depicting Shu's mountains and rivers, then lay upon it and died in a drunken stupor. Earth Master Situ Shence, skilled in geomancy and finding spiritual veins and acupoints, was secretly executed after Liyang unified the realm. Law Master Xun Ping was cooked and eaten by the common people. Dao Master Qi Xuanzhen achieved "soldier's dissolution" on the Demon-Slaying Platform. Buddhist Master Monk Longshu died outside the gate of the Northern Mang Daoist Sect. Of the Thirteen Masters of Spring and Autumn, twelve were unequivocally no longer alive. Only an insignificant Blade Master remained, likely also having died in obscurity amidst the world's shifting tides. In fact, ever since Gu Jiantang became the recognized foremost blade master, this Blade Master, who had only briefly appeared in the martial world and whose name was unknown, was mentioned less often during the settled Yonghui era than Li Chungang, who voluntarily confined himself beneath the Tide-Listening Pavilion. And after Li Chungang reappeared as a Sword Immortal on the Daxueping of Huishan, the comparison became even more negligible.

On an early spring night, snowflakes unexpectedly began to fall, with an increasing intensity. Xu Fengnian instinctively stopped, lifted his head, and reached out to catch the snowflakes.

Xu Fengnian inexplicably thought of the White Fox Face, and of his or her two accompanying blades, "Spring Thunder" and "Embroidered Winter."

Xu Fengnian never knew who the White Fox Face truly was, whether they were genuinely named Nangong Pushe, why they came to Northern Liang, or why they insisted on entering the Tide-Listening Pavilion.

Xu Fengnian was to depart for Youzhou tomorrow morning. The reason he chose not to meet Yan Chiji and Kong Zhenrong was not due to any grievance against them, but for their own well-being.

But even if he was misunderstood, even if they didn't meet, Xu Fengnian still went out of his way to rush back to Qingliang Mountain.

This was brotherhood. In his life, Xu Fengnian had only recognized four brothers: Li Hanlin, Yan Chiji, Kong Wuchi. And Wen Hua.

Suddenly, as Xu Fengnian slowly walked through the wind and snow, he saw a strange figure, their back to him, standing in front of the two tombstones.

This scene was both incongruous and illogical. The Northern Liang King's Residence was now extremely heavily guarded, far more so than in earlier years when the Crown Prince deliberately created an illusion of lax security to draw out enemies. To enter this forbidden tomb area was unthinkable!

The figure turned around and calmly said, "A person returning on a windy, snowy night."