Chapter 725: A Cup of Snow, a Head

The old man, who was undoubtedly Qi Lianhua, the Sage of Calligraphy from Western Chu, gave a self-deprecating chuckle. “Blade Armor of the Spring and Autumn Period? A mere scribe, a scribe... well, Blade Armor it is. Oh, dear.”

For centuries, people have always taken pride in sword fighting. Not just wandering heroes, but even scholars from various regions often carried swords while traveling to display their spirit. In the contest for the most revered weapon, the saber has always been considered inferior to the sword. However, in terms of sheer numbers, famous sabers are no less numerous than famous swords, and many have equally legendary tales in the martial world. For instance, the Great Frost Saber, now wielded by Xu Fengnian’s disciple, has a history of previous owners whose stories are truly stirring. But ever since Patriarch Lu became renowned for severing heads with a flying sword, the Way of the Sword has dominated the martial arts world. In contrast, the prestige of saber-wielders has steadily declined. No grandmaster of the saber has ever reached the pinnacle of martial arts. In the last century of the jianghu, there were Sword Armor Li Chungang and Peach Blossom Sword God Deng Tai'a. Although both lost to Wang Xianzhi, no one can deny the distinct charisma and mastery of these two sword paramounts. On the other hand, Gu Jiantang, the foremost saber practitioner, has never ranked high on the martial roster and has a mediocre reputation in the jianghu. No one has ever heard of someone learning saber techniques out of admiration for General Gu's martial arts; some might have joined the army out of envy for military achievements. Yet, even the demon Han Diaosi, on his deathbed, expressed a desire to roam the jianghu with a sword in a green robe. What about other young men? How many women found Li Chungang unforgettable just by hearing his name, the man in the green robe?

Even Xu Fengnian himself, before he began training with the saber, would pretend to be a young hero in Northern Liang to impress and swindle women. At that time, he wished he could adorn himself with famous swords.

The truth that Qi Lianhua, the Sage of Calligraphy, was actually the legendary Blade Armor, who had only briefly appeared in the jianghu, was truly moving. It also made one undeniably envious of the former prosperity of Western Chu, which truly embodied the orthodox cultural legacy of the Central Plains. There was Li Chungang crossing the Great Guangling River with his sword, literary giants composing hundreds of poems while drinking wine on small boats, women of breathtaking beauty, and the State Preceptor Li Mi with his favored disciple from the Cao family jointly playing a game of chess, a game where “snow fell and then stopped.” It was no wonder some claimed that Western Chu's downfall was not the fault of its emperor, scholars, or common people, but rather because the timing favored Liyang, not Jiang Chu.

The old man beckoned to Xu Fengnian, then knelt down first, gazing at Princess Wu Su’s tombstone. His previous spirited demeanor was gone, replaced by the desolate melancholy of the most ordinary, lonely old man. He murmured softly, “What is Xu Xiao? A crude martial artist. It’s bad enough he married a woman who was merely passable looking.”

Xu Fengnian, his anger flaring, sneered, “Does this old man truly believe that if we fought to the death, I, Xu Fengnian, am destined to lose?”

Qi Lianhua merely smiled in response and asked, “You haven't visited your ancestral home in Jinzhou to pay respects, have you?”

Xu Fengnian did not reply.

In fact, not only he, but Xu Xiao also never visited Jinzhou after becoming a king. Xu Fengnian's grandfather died very early. At that time, Xu Xiao had just emerged from Liaodong and was fiercely battling several major vassal forces in southern Liyang. After Xu Fengnian was born, he never met his grandparents. Since Xu Xiao was an only child, there were no other relatives from the Xu family later on. In earlier years, some distant relatives from Jinzhou did come to Northern Liang to claim kinship with Xu Xiao. Having endured much disdain in his youth, Xu Xiao was exceedingly generous, granting them a life of wealth and security regardless of circumstances. As for his mother's elders, Princess Wu Su hardly ever mentioned them. When Xu Fengnian was little, he only occasionally heard his mother say that his maternal grandmother was a very kind person who empathized with others, but she unfortunately passed away early. As for who his maternal grandfather was, his mother never said a word, and Xu Xiao also refused to elaborate. Only once, after drinking, did Xu Xiao angrily blurt out that the old man had “kicked the bucket” long ago. Xu Fengnian guessed that Xu Xiao must have been rejected when he sought marriage at the Wu Family Sword Mound, beaten miserably by the elder Wu with a sword, leading to a feud that lasted until their deaths, with no further contact. Xu Fengnian also harbored resentment towards that maternal grandfather. His aunt in Qingcheng Mountain wore a full face guard for years because the Wu family's mistreatment of his mother led to his aunt, as a sword attendant, having her face severely disfigured by sharp sword energy. Although it wasn't his grandfather's direct act, Xu Fengnian felt that if that grandfather had spoken a few words of fairness regarding his mother's departure from home, the Wu Family Sword Mound would not have acted with such cruelty and ruthlessness. Especially after learning that his maternal uncle, Wu Qi, deliberately met him in Beiliang but refused to acknowledge him, only to later go to Xishu to assist Chen Zhibao, Xu Fengnian truly had no good feelings for his relatives named Wu. Even though the current head of the Wu family, whom he should have called great-grandfather, had proactively tried to make amends once at the border of Northern Liang, Xu Fengnian still inevitably held a grudge.

The old man exhaled a long breath and sighed with emotion, “I once compiled the historical records of the previous dynasty for Great Chu, poring over countless books. At that time, though my saber techniques lacked the title of grandmaster, they possessed the essence of one. Yet, while compiling history, I often felt my heart tremble at night. Nothing else, just because the words 'man eats man' were visible everywhere in the books!”

“The rise and fall of dynasties, while a constant, always brings unspeakable suffering to the common people during each upheaval. ‘On roads outside the city gates, at dawn and dusk, they were rounded up like sheep. With shouts and gluttony, they chose the fattest to butcher, and with a swift saber stroke, they vied for the choicest parts.’ What a horrific sight that was! The dead filled the roads, and the living were ghosts among them. Half of the world’s populace were like wandering souls—this was no mere feigned sorrow from a poet in troubled times! I personally witnessed the end of the Spring and Autumn Period, where boys were sold for mere coppers, and girls were worth no more than a handful of millet. Later, some parents, unable to bear it, exchanged their children with others to eat. In the end, people ceased to be human; they were worse than ghosts! How could I not hate Liyang? How could I not hate Xu Xiao, who marched south, slaughtering cities and destroying nations?!”

“In ancient times, princely homes were places where foxes and rabbits roamed. But why stop at princely homes?”

Xu Fengnian scooped up a handful of snow from the ground, clenching it in his palm, and couldn't help but interrupt the old man. “Xu Xiao once said that one should be dutiful. First-rate scholars cultivate themselves, regulate their families, govern their states, and bring peace to the world. Second-rate scholars can still voice the grievances of the common people. But as a martial artist wielding a saber, he fought wars, and that’s all he knew how to do. Give him a few thousand men, and he would take a city; tens of thousands, and he would conquer a nation. When he had hundreds of thousands of iron cavalry, what else was there to conquer but the world? That’s why so many people cursed him later, yet he never retorted, nor did he ever think that what he did was inherently right. Among the Northern Liang army, whether the older generation like Yan Wenluan, Zhong Hongwu, He Zhonghu, or the younger ones like Chu Lushan, Li Mofan, and Cao Xiaojiao—which one of them wasn’t regarded by the world as a notorious old rascal?”

Xu Fengnian’s expression was firm as he said in a deep voice, “But it cannot be denied that if someone was destined to be the butcher who helped Liyang unite the world, then it was certainly best that Xu Xiao was the one to do it.”

Qi Lianhua mused, “I genuinely hadn’t considered that point.”

The old man, lost in thought, suddenly chuckled. “There’s a widely circulated poem by Huang Longshi: ‘The nation is shattered, but mountains and rivers remain; in the city's spring, grass and trees grow deep.’ The old Master Song from Liyang commented that the character for ‘deep’ (深) was not as good as ‘life/growth’ (生). If ‘life/growth’ were used, it would combine movement and stillness, perfectly aligning with poetic principles. The literati of the Liyang court all applauded this, do you agree?”

Xu Fengnian calmly replied, “My second sister once said at the Shangyin Academy that Old Master Song’s revision was utter nonsense.”

Qi Lianhua asked, “Then aren't you curious whose daughter Xu Weixiong really is?”

Xu Fengnian, his sensitive spot touched, could not hide his fury. “What business is it of yours?!”

Qi Lianhua squinted and chuckled, “Xu Fengnian, Xu Fengnian, you really are quite like your father, Xu Xiao.”

Xu Fengnian took a deep breath. “I respect your loyalty to Western Chu, old man, and your years of undercover work in the Northern Liang King’s Mansion to protect the exiled Princess Jiang Ni. But don’t think you can truly do whatever you please in the Xu family.”

The old man dismissed it with a scoff, a mocking look on his face. “Oh?”

At some point, their positions had shifted: Blade Armor Qi Lianhua now stood with his back to the mausoleum gate, while Xu Fengnian stood with his back to the two tombstones.

Then, almost simultaneously, they each took a step. The instep of the foot that had just stepped forward was then pinned by the other’s foot. Xu Fengnian thrust two fingers like a sword, striking the old man’s brow, while the old man raised his palm and seemingly casually slapped Xu Fengnian’s chest.

The old man spun like a top, simultaneously deflecting the finger-sword. His wide sleeves billowed, stirring up a flurry of snow and wind, creating an illusion like an earth dragon drawing water. Xu Fengnian, pushed towards the tombstone by the palm-blade, placed a hand behind him on the stone, gently pushed off, and lunged forward using the momentum.

Mid-air, Xu Fengnian kept his two fingers pressed together, sweeping them at an angle above the old man’s head. A formidable surge of sword energy immediately cascaded down.

The old man scoffed. His footwork was unlike that of any ordinary martial artist; his feet were slightly inward-tilted, and one hand was clasped into a fist behind his back. He took a series of rapid, resolute steps forward in a straight line, evading the sword energy. His fist then landed squarely on Xu Fengnian's stomach, with a force like a pounding drum. Using the rebound, his fingers instantly loosened, and he delivered another pushing palm strike. Xu Fengnian's body, sent flying backward, produced a harsh sound in the snowy night, like a firecracker exploding on New Year's Eve. Blade Armor Qi Lianhua's punches, palms, and footwork were all remarkably simple and direct, easily bringing to mind Wang Xianzhi, who once proudly defied the world. They were as swift as thunder and as forceful as a lightning strike, meeting foes with bare hands, disdaining all divine weapons and sharp tools.

Xu Fengnian was not severely injured; he was merely repelled by the old man's single move. His emotions surged, and the chaotic vital energy within his body became even more turbulent, like oil added to boiling water. This gave him a renewed understanding of the Blade Armor of the Spring and Autumn Period. He had originally thought Qi Lianhua was, at most, on par with Sui Xingu, but it seemed he was at least a notch higher.

Before the dragon-slaying in Liuzhou, Xu Fengnian was confident that even if the Blade Armor exerted his full power, Xu Fengnian would not have been so disheveled, no matter how careless he was.

After Xu Fengnian landed, a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth, but he made no move to wipe it away. He couldn't be bothered, and it didn't matter.

This was not the first or second life-and-death battle Xu Fengnian had experienced.

The old man tsk-tsked, “In your current sorry state, you could at most manage three desperate moves. Against an ordinary Vajra or even a Profound Finger master, three moves might be enough, but unfortunately, you’ve met me.”

Xu Fengnian calmly said, “Not three moves. It'll be a one-move affair.”

The old man asked, “Even if you die, you must protect the two tombstones behind you? The people are dead, what good are the stones? Aren't you Xu Fengnian, the King of Northern Liang? Don't you understand priorities?”

The old man, perhaps truly old, was somewhat loquacious. He continued to “advise” kindly, “Young man, beauties in this world are like bamboo shoots after rain, appearing year after year. Even soldiers are like wildfires that never burn out, sprouting one generation after another. But two things are very difficult to replenish: first, the armored heavy cavalry on the battlefield—lose one, and it's truly gone, difficult to replace quickly. Second are jianghu masters; each one requires talent, opportunity, and many years of arduous training. Especially you, Xu Fengnian, you must cherish your life. If you die...”

The snowfall intensified.

Xu Fengnian ignored the old man's chattering and raised his hand.

A saber made of snow appeared in his hand.

But the old man suddenly became melancholic, clasping his hands behind his back as he gazed at the sky. “Northern Liang, a single region fighting an entire nation... If you die...”

The old man spoke to himself, his expression desolate. “Whether Northern Liang has a king or not, I truly don't care. But whether Xu Fengnian lives or dies, how can I, Qi Lianhua, not care?”

A trace of bewilderment appeared in Xu Fengnian’s eyes.

After being struck by Blade Armor Qi Lianhua’s punch and palm, the vital energy within his body, surprisingly, began to stabilize after experiencing initial violent oscillations, showing signs of prosperity following extreme adversity.

The old man looked annoyed, glaring as he said, “Only now do you realize my painstaking efforts, young man?”

Xu Fengnian was bewildered, but he still gripped the snow saber and asked in confusion, “What exactly do you want to do?”

The old man, who once spoke of “a returner on a snowy night,” grew even more irritated. “Aren’t you a clever young man, full of schemes? How can you be so slow-witted now?!”

Xu Fengnian also grew angry, glaring back.

Looking at the stubborn young man, the old man seemed to recall some past events. This obstinate old man, who had been unyielding against the world his entire life, softened a little. His tone gentle and somewhat helpless, he said, “I was afraid you wouldn't guess, didn’t I use the alias ‘Wu Jiang’?”

Xu Fengnian was torn between laughter and tears. “Didn’t I already guess you were Qi Lianhua and the Blade Armor of the Spring and Autumn Period?”

The furious old man suddenly stomped his foot heavily, causing the wind and snow above the entire mausoleum to momentarily freeze and pause. “Didn’t Xu Xiao ever tell you his father-in-law wasn’t named Wu? Even if that bastard Xu Xiao didn’t say anything, didn’t Su'er ever mention it to you? Didn’t she ever tell you that there was a saber expert named Qi who, for a Wu family woman, fought fiercely at the Wu Family Sword Mound, almost tearing down half the Sword Mountain?!”

Xu Fengnian turned around, his expression unreadable, his tone devoid of emotion. “No.”

“No?!” The old man was truly enraged. Pointing at Xu Xiao’s tombstone, he cursed loudly, “You good-for-nothing Jinzhou barbarian! Back then, to marry my daughter, you said you wouldn’t kneel to heaven or earth, but you’d kneel to me, your father-in-law, just once! Hmph, a petty little captain with only a few hundred men, daring to threaten to bring an army to destroy Great Chu if I didn’t agree! I should have split you in two with a single palm strike right then and there!”

When the old man fell silent, only the wailing of the wind and snow in the garden could be heard.

The old man's eyes were kind, and his face was filled with guilt as he gazed at the young back, far more pleasing to his eye than Xu Xiao's. He slowly said, “The first time I secretly saw you was on a snowy night like this, when the Xu family's iron cavalry was on their way to Northern Liang. Inside a small temple, your mother was punishing you by making you read all night. You sat with books in hand on the lap of a Buddha statue in the main hall, reading by the light of the eternal lamp in front of the statue until dawn. Around you were four clay statues of heavenly kings, some bearing sabers or swords, others with ferocious expressions. The lamplight was faint, and outside, the winter wind and snow sounded like wailing female ghosts. Even adults would have been unnerved, but you, child, were uniquely unafraid. I watched you from the rafters all night. I truly loved you from the bottom of my heart. You are indeed worthy of being my grandson, Qi Lianhua’s grandson!”

A surge of pride for his descendant swelled in the old man's chest. “I don't acknowledge Xu Xiao as my son-in-law, but I adore you, my grandson! Even if Su'er didn't acknowledge me as her father, I shamelessly came to Liangzhou, and after Su'er passed away, I lived under an assumed name as a low-ranking servant. Who am I, Qi Lianhua? I am someone who could contend with Great Chu's State Preceptor Li Mi on the chessboard, someone who could discuss state affairs over wine with Grand Tutor Sun Xiji, someone who could ride alongside Ye Baikui on the battlefield, and someone whom the Imperial Chess Commissioner Cao Changqing respectfully called half a mentor!”

Xu Fengnian, still with his back to the old man, squatted down and looked at the two tombstones. He asked, “Why didn't you formally marry my grandmother back then? Instead, you left her and my mother to rely on each other amidst the contempt of the family.”

The old man remained silent, his eyes filled with sorrow and regret.

Xu Fengnian said softly, “Lands and beauties, lands and beauties—with lands first and beauties second. Did you think the state and its affairs were more important? Or did you believe that a man of great ambition needn't worry about finding a wife? Did you, the renowned ‘Flower-Adding Lord’ of the Spring and Autumn Period, truly see women as mere embellishments, adding a touch of beauty to life?”

Xu Fengnian then asked, “Why didn't you protect my mother during the White Clothes Case in the capital?”

Receiving no answer, Xu Fengnian’s voice was hoarse as he continued, trembling, “That’s why I didn’t know I had a maternal grandfather. I just assumed he had died long ago. Whether his surname was Wu or Qi, whether he was a great hero or an insignificant person, it simply doesn’t matter.”

After a long silence, the old man sighed, speechless.

Xu Fengnian sat cross-legged before the grave, bending down to brush away the snow accumulated in front of the tombstone.

Qi Lianhua walked to the tombstone, looked down at Xu Xiao’s, and said calmly, “By the time I received word and rushed to Tai’an City, it was already too late.”

The old man chuckled self-deprecatingly, “Whether you don't acknowledge me as your maternal grandfather, or you think that fellow Qi Lianhua is cold-blooded, I believe that no matter how much one dislikes the man their daughter chooses, once a daughter is married off, she's like spilled water. And at that time, three Blade Armors couldn't kill Zhao Dun, the Liyang Emperor, whose destiny was favored by Heaven. Given that, as for Yuan Benxi, Han Shengxuan, Liu Haoshi, and their ilk, as long as Xu Xiao was alive, those burdens were his to bear. If Xu Xiao couldn't do it, then there were my daughter Wu Su’s children.”

The old man turned to look at Xu Fengnian, who was still brushing away snow with his hand, and said softly, “Daoist sages say that life and death are like sleep: to fall asleep and wake up is life; to fall asleep and not wake up is death. Hence, there is great terror here, and it is for this reason that people cry rather than laugh when they are born. Buddhist scriptures also state that when the mind finds tranquility, life and death hold great terror.”

The old man also squatted down, speaking with a relaxed air, “Perhaps you are right. Xu Xiao is far stronger than any Blade Armor of the Spring and Autumn Period or even the Sage of Calligraphy of Great Chu. It’s just that I’m unwilling and afraid to admit it.”

The old man looked at Xu Xiao’s tombstone and smiled. “In the end, I never did get to drink a cup of wine offered by you.”

Xu Fengnian said softly, “It’s too late.”

Xu Fengnian’s eyes reddened. “I used to wonder why, among the cloth shoes Xu Xiao hand-sewed in the box under his bed, there was always a pair that didn't fit anyone in the Xu family.”

The old man paused, taken aback.

Then the old man burst into hearty laughter, clenching his fists and resting them on his thighs. “A dream of Spring and Autumn, dreaming of Spring and Autumn. A person’s life is nothing more than two matters: life and death. Since we cry upon arrival, we should smile upon departure.”

Then the old man extended a hand as if holding a cup, and between his fingers appeared a crystal-clear cup of white snow. Snowflakes fell into the cup as he declared loudly, “This father-in-law toasts his son-in-law!”

Snow served as wine.

Could a drink be shared?

“Xiaonian, this old man needs to return to Guangling. I’ve been away from home for too long. Don’t bother seeing me off.”

After raising his toast, the old man turned around, brushed the snow off his grandson's shoulder, and pulled a yellowed booklet from his embrace, gently placing it beside Xu Fengnian.

After speaking one last quiet sentence, the old man rose, shook his sleeves, and began striding towards the mausoleum gate. Upon exiting, his figure vanished in a flash.

Xu Fengnian, a step too slow, was utterly unable to stop him.

Outside Liangzhou City, the old man moved further and further away, with a speed that even Northern Liang’s top-grade warhorses could not match. In his hand, a Liang Saber, forged from white snow, gradually took shape.

The world knew that the “Flower-Adding Lord” of Great Chu, throughout his life, loved to practice calligraphy by writing three characters the most: ‘Su,’ ‘Nian,’ and ‘Chun.’

His daughter Wu Su was gone, but his grandson Xu Fengnian was still here, and doing remarkably well! He had no other lingering concerns in this life. It was time to shed the nickname ‘Qi Half-Book’ and solidify his title as ‘Qi the Embellisher.’ Xiaonian, let this grandfather be selfish one last time, so that everyone in the world knows that even after your father's death, you still have an elder alive. With me, Qi Lianhua, no one can offend Northern Liang without paying a price—neither Grand Pillar-State Gu Jiantang nor the new Emperor of the Zhao family!

Xiaonian, you just guard the northwestern gateway to the Central Plains.

Xu Fengnian rapidly swept forward, standing alone on the city wall. But in his vision, there was only a vast expanse of white.

He stood there all night. At dawn, Xu Fengnian remembered the old man’s last words, murmuring to himself, “Can it truly be?”

In the spring of the second year of Xiangfu, a chilling piece of news returned to the capital from the borders of Liangliao.

Gu Jiantang had lost, and what's more, he had lost to someone who used a saber.

That alone would have been noteworthy, but the crucial point was that the martial arts grandmaster who had suddenly emerged did not reveal his name, only an astonishing identity.

One twilight, in the outskirts of Tai’an City, two men, roughly a generation apart in age, sat facing each other in a pavilion.

The younger one was Song Keli, the “Young Phoenix” of the Song family, who had recently “made a comeback” in the capital.

Song Keli did not yet hold an official position in the capital, but Jin Lanting, the Vice Minister of Rites, had already invited him to family banquets multiple times, and many venerable figures in the capital, especially the imperial relatives and nobility, had also shown him favor.

Song Keli, who should have been full of confidence and joy, now wore a sorrowful expression. He looked at Mr. Yuan, who was sipping wine, and said mournfully, “Even if that man is a grandmaster superior to General Gu, Tai’an City previously managed to deal with that sword-wielding man who had a family in tow. So how could it not handle another martial artist?”

Yuan Benxi smiled, glanced at Song Keli, and remained silent.

Song Keli's hand on the table clenched tightly; his face was ashen, and his lips trembled as he said, “I know, I know. After the late emperor’s death, your status, Sir, became that of an old, rootless Huangmen Lang in the Hanlin Academy. The current emperor is desperate to escape his restraints, and the old man's appearance has given him a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity: to kill with another's blade, without getting his hands bloody! That's why not a single imperial guard in the capital can be mobilized, not a single Qi practitioner from the Imperial Astronomical Bureau, and not a single jianghu master who serves the court and carries a carp-shaped pouch! Mr. Yuan, is Tai’an City going to burn its bridges again? Does the Zhao family truly have no shame left?!”

Song Keli lowered his head. “Mr. Yuan taught me that to serve a monarch as a subject is to burn a stick of incense for one Buddha. One emperor, one set of ministers—that’s because the bond of loyalty from the previous incense burning has been broken.”

Yuan Benxi, whose tongue was half-severed, remained calm. He put down his wine cup and spoke indistinctly, “Both right and wrong. What I said before was merely the way of officialdom. But there is a more fundamental human way that must not be forgotten. Offering incense to the monarch is merely a technique, not the true Way. Your true Way, Song Keli, beyond burning incense, is to add oil to the lamp for the common people of the world. This is the fundamental principle that Grand Secretary Zhang Julu left for Liyang. As a strategist, I, Yuan Benxi, consider myself second to none. But as a subject, Zhang Julu was the first to usher in a new era for a thousand years. You must learn his Way, not my techniques. Otherwise, you, Song Keli, will at best become someone like Yin Maochun or Zhao Youling in this lifetime. What use would Yuan Benxi’s cultivation of you be? How would you distinguish yourself among your peers like Sun Yin in the future?”

Yuan Benxi looked out at the twilight beyond the pavilion and smiled. “The renowned officials and nobles of the Yonghui Spring were destined to be recorded in history, but you, who originated in the Xiangfu years, might have an even more glorious legacy in the annals of history than that generation of old men. Because Yonghui had Zhang Julu, who overshadowed all scholars in the world, while your generation is different: Chen Wang, the versatile dragon-supporter; Sun Yin, the patient and cunning dragon-slayer; and you, Song Keli, the stern and solitary minister. Each of you possesses a dazzling brilliance.”

Song Keli did not dare to look up at Mr. Yuan, who had traveled the length and breadth of the land with him last year.

Yuan Benxi said softly, “All parties have been testing and trying to win you over, and I've always told you to wait for the best offer. So last night, the disciple of Song Tanglu, the Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, found you and delivered an oral edict. You don't need to feel guilty. It would have been disappointing only if you had rushed to tell me, Yuan Benxi.”

Song Keli suddenly looked up.

Yuan Benxi smiled faintly and said softly, “He's here.”

A person walked from a distance.

A strange, snow-white long saber hung at his waist.

Song Keli stood up, blocking the pavilion steps. Without the old man making any discernible movement, Song Keli, despite his considerable martial arts skill, was flung out of the pavilion.

After the old man sat down, Yuan Benxi placed three wine cups on the table and gently pushed a clean one towards the old man with his finger.

Yuan Benxi smiled candidly, “Back then, I was very curious as to why Old Mr. Qi would force his way through Tai’an City gates. Later, when Xie Feiyu gifted me many of your calligraphy authentic scripts, which mostly featured the character ‘Chun’ in early works, and later, the characters ‘Su’ and ‘Nian,’ I began to understand. Zhao Gou had meticulously attempted to assassinate His Royal Highness the Crown Prince sixteen times in Northern Liang territory; three of those attempts were particularly regrettable, and all were thwarted by Old Mr. Qi.”

The old man did not pick up the cup to drink. Instead, he placed the snow saber on the table. “This old man, when he kills, still allows a few sips of a last drink. So, drink slowly.”

Yuan Benxi tilted his head back and drained the wine cup in one gulp. “Since Old Mr. Qi has killing intent but no desire to kill, why put on such a facade?”

Qi Lianhua sneered, “So Yuan Benxi is nothing more than this.”

Yuan Benxi shook his head. “In life, some are fond of drinking, others are afraid of death—both are human nature.”

Qi Lianhua said, “Li Yishan and Nalan Youci—one helped Xu Xiao conquer Spring and Autumn, the other helped Zhao Bing seize the world. They were the true schemers for the world. As for Huang Longshi, he is even further beyond the reach of your ‘half-inch tongue.’ You, Yuan Benxi, have spent your life merely defending the realm, and what’s laughable is that you haven’t even managed to defend it. The reason I’m not killing you is because not killing you is better than killing you.”

Yuan Benxi said self-deprecatingly, “Is this old man deliberately sparing my life so I can bite other dogs?”

Qi Lianhua tapped the snow saber, which was crafted in the style of the earliest Xu family blades, with a single finger. “Such a fine Xu saber, to use it to chop off a dog's head would be quite a waste.”

Yuan Benxi remained unmoved, smiling faintly. “Since this old man has shown me the grace of not killing me, then this junior also has a word of advice: killing me, Yuan Benxi, is a small matter, done in the blink of an eye. But finding Emperor Zhao Zhuan inside the city won't be easy. Compared to the late emperor, the current emperor is far, far more afraid of death. I believe Xu Fengnian would much rather have his maternal grandfather return safely to Northern Liang than see you, old man, die a heroic death in Tai’an City, no matter how grand that death might be. Xu Fengnian has finally made a clean break with his past and future lives. If you leave now, old man, it would not even be a ‘flower on top of brocade,’ let alone ‘sending charcoal in the snow.’”

Qi Lianhua let out a sound of surprise. “You, Yuan Benxi, with only half a tongue left, can not only speak but also utter a few human words?”

Yuan Benxi’s expression remained composed. He pointed to the wine pot. “For so many years, this has been a jar for Huadiao wine, but the wine inside has always been Northern Liang Green Ant. Does this old man truly not wish to drink a cup?”

Qi Lianhua raised the cup and drank it all. The old man then stood up and left the pavilion, but he left the saber behind. His final words were, “All three generations of Liyang monarchs have wronged Xu Xiao.”

Yuan Benxi watched the old man leave, and only after a long time did he imperceptibly nod his head.

Song Keli stumbled into the pavilion, clutching his chest. Seeing Mr. Yuan unharmed, he felt a wave of relief.

After Song Keli sat down, Yuan Benxi, in contrast, stood up. He looked at the sky and said wistfully, “The sky is going to rain, and a mother is going to marry... But I don't want some things to just go their own way.”

A faint smile appeared on Yuan Benxi’s face. “Old man, these are the good words of a dying man.”

As Mr. Yuan turned and walked towards the stone table, taking hold of the cold Xu saber, Song Keli suddenly had a bad feeling, and his face instantly turned pale.

Yuan Benxi looked into the distance. “Song Tanglu must be waiting, I suppose. Zhao Zhuan doesn't have this kind of courage.”

Yuan Benxi withdrew his gaze and tossed a brocade pouch to Song Keli. “Afterward, tell that Chief Eunuch that if he wishes to live longer and better than Han Shengxuan, he should look at this.”

Song Keli felt as though he had received a hot potato; he was restless, his eyes bloodshot.

Yuan Benxi sternly commanded, “Song Keli, put away the pouch! Stand up and take the saber!”

Song Keli instinctively shot to his feet but then retreated several steps in a panic, completely losing the dignified demeanor of the Song family's Young Phoenix.

Yuan Benxi took a step forward, offering the Liang Saber.

Song Keli shook his head frantically.

The Liyang Imperial Tutor's face contorted as he rebuked, “If you don't kill me, Yuan Benxi, how can you, Song Keli, stand by the monarch's side!”

Song Keli’s face was streaming with tears, utterly distraught, as he kept repeating, “Sir, I won’t kill you. Sir, I won’t kill you…”

Yuan Benxi sighed, placed the saber on the table, and then, with his back to Song Keli, calmly said, “When fortune abandons a hero, he is no longer free. If you don't kill me, I, Yuan Benxi, will be nothing but a waste. Even if I manage to cling to life for a few more years, the future world will be destined to bear no trace of my ‘half-inch tongue,’ Yuan Benxi.”

Yuan Benxi closed his eyes and said softly, “Song Keli, you must not disappoint me.”

Huang Longshi, Li Yishan—I’m a step behind you. Nalan Youci—you were a step ahead of me.

Song Keli tremblingly gripped the Liang Saber.

Yuan Benxi’s eyes snapped open. He gazed deeply at the distant afterglow in the sky. The Imperial Tutor with the “half-inch tongue” opened his mouth, took a deep breath as if borrowing one last breath from heaven and earth, and roared, “Take my head!”

Song Keli’s face twisted in pain, and with a raised hand, the saber fell!

When the Chief Eunuch, Director of the Directorate of Ceremonial, a man with a cold expression and dressed in a vibrant red python robe, leisurely walked to the pavilion steps, he saw only the ill-fated young man sitting blankly on the ground. Horrifying blood-tears streamed from his eyes, and he clutched tightly the head in his arms.

Outside Tai’an City, the old man squinted, looking at the majestic city wall, and smiled. “My whole life, I, Qi Lianhua, aimed high but achieved little. I sought to surpass the ancients in calligraphy, to see my family prosper, to ensure Great Chu’s long reign, and to bring well-being to the common people. Yet, I accomplished nothing; my hands are empty.”

The old man cupped his hands and breathed into them. “My last wish, however, is quite small: I only wish to be an elder who can look back without regret.”

It was on this very day that an unnamed old man entered Tai’an City and directly stormed the Imperial Astronomical Bureau.

He slaughtered all the Qi practitioners of the Imperial Astronomical Bureau and its eight hundred guards.

The old madman uttered not a single word from beginning to end. Only at his dying moment did he quietly say to himself, “Xiaonian, don’t forget what your maternal grandfather told you. Remember to believe in yourself, and believe in Northern Liang with you there!”

The old man’s departing words were precisely the opposite of an inadvertent remark made by Yuan Benxi.

“When the time comes, Heaven and Earth conspire to help!”