Chapter 798: North Liang Four Battles (6)

What began as watching a fire from across the river has now turned into playing with fire, a perfect description of Liyang's Northern Pass defensive line.

The simultaneous fall of Yinyao and Hengshui, twin cities guarding the gateway to Jibei, allowed Beimang's 50,000 iron cavalry to surge south, leaving all of Jizhou in a state of alarm.

The imperial court in the capital buzzed with activity. Some proposed that Xu Gong, the Vice Minister of War, given his proximity, should immediately fill the void left by Tang Tieshuang's transfer to the capital, assisting Grand Marshal Gu Jiantang with northern military and political affairs. Others suggested that Zhao Sui, the King of Jiaodong, stationed in Liaoxi, should reinforce Liaodong to strike at the enemy's vital points, thereby compelling the 50,000 cavalry to return to the eastern front and prevent Jizhou's complete collapse. There were also calls to impeach General Yuan Tingshan of Jizhou for mismanagement, accusing him of allowing the conflict to spread throughout Jibei and proving himself incapable. They advocated for Deputy General Han Fang, a scion of a military family, to assume full command of Jizhou's military.

Meanwhile, on the western front of Guangling Dao, Xie Xichui's brilliant strategy not only successfully stalled the 100,000 Southern Frontier army that had already crossed the river but also involved a surprise attack on a strategic pass on the southern bank of the Guangling River. This left the Southern Frontier forces completely disoriented, unable to advance or retreat. With the Western Chu navy pressing hard, the Southern Frontier infantry and Qingzhou navy were forced into a full-scale retreat, huddling together. In this dire and escalating crisis, the civil and military officials in Taian City grew increasingly anxious. They could no longer tolerate the Liangliao border army's continued inaction. "It's one thing for you, Gu Jiantang, to remain unmoving while the Beimang barbarians fiercely attack the Northwest. But now, even the easternmost Beimang forces you were meant to watch have swept into Jizhou for easy pickings! It's clear they intend to bypass the Liangliao defense line, built with half the nation's tax revenue, and exploit Jizhou's depleted forces—caused by the absence of veteran Jizhou Southern soldiers—as a gateway to the Central Plains. How can you, General Gu, still stand idly by?! Are you not afraid that Beimang's 50,000 iron cavalry will charge straight into our capital's western region? While you, Gu Jiantang, are indeed the dynasty's last remaining Grand Marshal, your composure seems truly boundless!"

Near the border of Liaodong and Jizhou lay Taiping Town, a small settlement whose inhabitants were mostly former border soldiers or officials exiled by the court. Merchants occasionally passed through, engaging in small trades. Four or five years prior, an affordable and good-quality "Green Ant Wine" was highly sought after here. However, after Gu Jiantang stepped down as Minister of War to become Grand Marshal and Governor-General of Liangliao, the border army became aware of his animosity towards Beiliang. Consequently, merchants largely ceased selling Green Ant Wine, which originated from Beiliang. Despite its modest size, Taiping Town was well-equipped, boasting three or four taverns, a legitimate brothel, and numerous private prostitutes operating from smaller dens. Border generals often looked the other way, preferring to channel rather than suppress. The Liaodong border army, hailed as the "Stabilizing Needle of the Liyang Dynasty," was composed of young, virile men. Yet, after years of peaceful confrontation with the Beimang barbarians, with minimal actual combat, the soldiers needed an outlet for their frustrations. Was it expected for men to seek out other men? As a result, small towns like Taiping proliferated rapidly. Some influential border army leaders, with their far-reaching connections, even managed to traffic hundreds of young women from the capital region and even the Central Plains and Jiangnan to Liangliao in single shipments.

Longevity Tavern was Taiping Town's most bustling establishment, privately owned by a powerful commandant. Beyond Green Ant Wine, nearly all renowned Liyang vintages, such as Jiannan Chunshao, were available for those with the coin. The tavern regularly featured women who played music and sang; while their looks were merely average, they were a rare and welcome sight in such a remote border region. In recent days, a brother and sister had arrived at the Longevity Tavern. The young woman, with her pipa, told stories, while her brother loudly called out and collected tips. This in itself was not strange, but the woman's stubborn insistence on narrating only the tales of Beiliang King Xu Fengnian—recounting his journey through the Liyang martial world, his solitary venture into Beimang, and how he won the hearts of his army and people in Beiliang—incited the ire of Taiping Town's residents. Yet, when a group attempted to bully the delicate woman, they were unexpectedly routed by her unremarkable younger brother, who sent them scurrying away in fear. Longevity Tavern, seeing an opportunity, offered to let the woman continue storytelling on one condition: her brother had to fight a daily martial arts match. After ten days, all the military experts from around Taiping Town had been defeated. The young outsider had won ten consecutive bouts. The shrewd Longevity Tavern then began taking bets, estimated to have profited by at least a thousand taels of silver, severely cutting into the business of the town's brothels by several tenths.

By evening, after the day's matches at Longevity Tavern had concluded, a group of distinguished patrons entered. Four of them settled at a table on the second floor, by the railing. Downstairs, the woman was preparing for her second storytelling session. Her brother had changed into a newly laundered, well-mended, but faded clean outfit. The siblings had undertaken an arduous journey, traveling from Liangzhou to Lingzhou, then through Hezhou and Jizhou, before finally arriving at this small town. Unlike the common blind storytellers in Liyang, who employed diverse dramatic techniques, this woman had only her pipa. When narrating, she never swayed, laughed, or expressed anger. Even when recounting moments of sorrow or fervent heroism, she merely adjusted her voice slightly. For the most part, her tone remained calm and measured, as if simply relating a tale, utterly indifferent to whether her audience enjoyed it or offered tips.

The four patrons seated by the railing on the second floor ordered a jar of Jiannan Chunshao, renowned as "one jin to break the throat, two jin to burn out the intestines," alongside a pot of Gujing Xianren Niang, an easy-drinking wine with a subtle aftertaste. Only two of the four were seated. The younger man, his demeanor confident and spirited, wore an ancient long saber at his waist. The older man, appearing to be the younger's senior, had an indifferent expression as he unsealed the Xianren Niang and began to drink by himself. The other two, standing, had standard Liangliao border army sabers at their waists. While they clearly lacked the same status as the seated pair, their powerful battlefield aura immediately suggested they were seasoned military commanders who had led troops for years.

The young man craned his neck to scan the crowd downstairs, a flicker of impatience crossing his face. Frowning, he muttered, "Why hasn't that Ji fellow arrived yet? Judging by his pretense, he truly believes he's one of the Ten Great Masters of Daxueping."

The older man, with temples streaked in grey, remained impassive.

A burly man, standing nearby, seemed to take an instant dislike to the arrogant young man. With a forced smile, he remarked, "General Yuan, Ji Liuan is indeed one of the Ten Masters of Huishan Daxueping. There's no 'thinking' involved."

The young man, addressed as General Yuan, took a sip of his liquor and scoffed, "A martial arts ranking cooked up by some silly girl? Only country bumpkins would take it seriously. Honestly, only the old master of the Wu Family Sword Tomb can barely be considered a true master. As for the others, Chai Qingshan of Dongyue Sword Pond's meager skills are only enough for him to dominate behind closed doors in Guangling Dao. And what about this secretive Southern Frontier Dragon Palace Master who furtively came to Liaodong? What is he worth?"

The young man slowly rotated his wine cup with two fingers, casting a sidelong glance at the man who had contradicted him, then chuckled, "And what about Wei Miao, the top master of Nanzhao, and others like him? They'd likely be utterly lost if they ventured into the Central Plains martial world. Ha! And then there's Qi Jiajie, Taian City's foremost swordsman—he's truly laughable. A flying sword over ten thousand miles, what a spectacle! But what was the outcome? The sword reached Hezhou, yet there's been no further news of Qi Jiajie himself. For these 'Ten Great Masters,' I doubt the latter five combined could even withstand one of the 'Four Martial Arts Judges' at full strength, could they?"

The burly man was about to retort when his colleague tugged his sleeve. He ultimately bit his tongue, letting out only a heavy snort.

The young man, abandoning his commentary, turned to observe a middle-aged man seated two tables away. The man wore a short, open-front jacket, a blue turban, and leggings wrapped around his calves, presenting the image of a simple mountain traveler. Yet, nestled beside him was an incredibly alluring and voluptuous woman. Her magnificent attire, unlike the brocade and silk of wealthy Liyang families, was vibrant tie-dyed fabric—impossible to overlook. It was clearly the distinctive clothing of the Miao people from the Southwest's Ten Thousand Mountains, famed for their "five-colored garments reaching the clouds." The shapely woman had strings of silver bells adorning her hands and feet, chiming melodically with her every movement. A curved scimitar with a snow-white sheath rested on the table beside her. As she drank, she casually propped one leg on the long bench, and from a side view, her long legs and full hips created an incredibly graceful and seductive silhouette.

The woman noticed the young man's gaze. With a charming smile, she drained her cup in one gulp, then raised an eyebrow at him, a clear challenge in her eyes.

The young man set down his wine cup and made a gesture with his hand to his chest, as if supporting a heavy weight.

Far from being angered by the teasing, the buxom beauty giggled, her body shaking like a trembling flower branch. In front of the man beside her, she pushed the wine jar on the table with her palm. The jar shot forward like rolling thunder, instantly striking the young man's back. Yet, without any visible movement from him, the jar deflected, grazed past him, and then spun rapidly on the table before coming to a gradual halt.

The woman laughed, her Central Plains Mandarin heavily accented, "You little turtle-son are so charming. If you drink, big sister will be your friend."

The burly man, who clearly disliked the young man, quietly warned, "This Miao couple are not ordinary martial artists. The woman has already tampered with the wine jar. Miao gu poison is incredibly diverse and almost impossible to defend against. It's best not to touch it."

At that moment, two men ascended the stairs. One appeared to be an elderly scholar in green robes, while the other wore two swords—one long, one short—at his waist. The scabbards alone suggested they were priceless, formidable blades.

The man who had remained silent, about to raise his cup to drink, gently set it down. The two standing men subtly moved apart to clear a path, and the two expected guests took seats on the same long bench.

The elderly scholar, with a deferential expression, softly stated, "Cheng Baishuang, a commoner from the Southern Frontier, pays his respects to the Grand Marshal."

The other famed swordsman, his expression as impassive as if afflicted by facial paralysis, then spoke, "Ji Liuan of the Dragon Palace is honored to meet the Grand Marshal."

Following the death of the Old King of Liang, Xu Xiao, only one Grand Marshal remained in the realm: Gu Jiantang, who wielded half of the Zhao imperial family's military authority.

Gu Jiantang smiled and nodded. "You two have journeyed all the way from the Southern Frontier to this northern land of Liaodong. It must have been arduous."

As the two formidable Southern Frontier masters settled into their seats, the couple also rose and approached, taking the only vacant long bench. The burly man, who had been standing behind the Grand Marshal like a guardian, moved to intercept them. However, Gu Jiantang had already reached for the wine jar, which had been laced with Miao gu poison. Seeing this, the general—now the commander of Liaodong's Duoyan Iron Cavalry, succeeding Tang Tieshuang—swiftly unclasped his fingers from his saber hilt.

The woman first cast a seductive glance at the young General Yuan, then turned to Gu Jiantang with a smile. "My husband doesn't speak your Central Plains dialect," she began, "so allow a humble woman like myself to discuss these important matters. Please forgive me, General."

Cheng Baishuang furrowed his brow, then quickly smoothed it, asking with a smile, "Grand Marshal, who might this be?"

Gu Jiantang remained silent. He poured a bowl of wine for Cheng Baishuang, Ji Liuan, and the couple, excluding only the young man beside him. At the same time, the previously ignored young man interjected, "Cheng Baishuang, Ji Liuan, what's the matter? My father-in-law himself is hosting a welcoming feast for you, yet you refuse the toast poured for you? Do you prefer a penalty drink instead?"

Having traveled thousands of miles to this ironically named Taiping Town, Ji Liuan, already in a foul mood, narrowed his eyes.

The composed Cheng Baishuang picked up his wine bowl, shaking his head with a smile. "Of course, I wouldn't dare. I was merely curious."

Perhaps due to the considerable pressure of sitting so close to Gu Jiantang, the woman subdued her flirtatious manner and spoke directly: "My husband, Wei Miao, has a modest reputation in Nanzhao, though naturally, he doesn't compare to Palace Master Ji or Master Cheng. He never intended to set foot in the Central Plains in his life, but we had no choice. The King of Shu and Master Xie issued their orders, so we were compelled to make this journey."

Gu Jiantang had only one daughter, which meant his son-in-law could only be Yuan Tingshan, the General of Jizhou.

Yuan Tingshan was about to exchange playful barbs with the woman when, at an inopportune moment, he overheard the storyteller downstairs, with her pipa, recounting the young Prince Xu's journey to Huishan. Yuan Tingshan, who harbored an irreconcilable hatred for anyone named Xu, sneered. He abruptly rose, placing a hand on the railing, and like a fierce bolt of lightning, lunged violently towards the storyteller's brother.

The young man, who had won all eleven martial arts matches in Taiping Town, crossed his arms to guard his chest. Still, Yuan Tingshan's kick sent him sliding backward. His trembling hands bracing his elbows against a wine table, he overturned it completely, drenching himself in spilled wine and food and ruining his freshly changed clothes.

Yuan Tingshan remained stationary, choosing not to press his advantage. "Yo!" he exclaimed, then chuckled, "Not bad, quite a deep disguise! You're almost at the level of a Second-Rank Minor Grandmaster. No wonder you could dominate this little town. I'm just curious: the brother of a Beiliang storyteller? I suspect you're actually a master from Beiliang's Hushui Bureau, aren't you? Did you come to Liangliao to spy on military intelligence?"

The ordinary woman, merely a storyteller, was momentarily stunned. The young, taciturn man turned to look at her, offering an apologetic smile, then nodded before shaking his head.

Yuan Tingshan's smile broadened, but the violence in his eyes and the pervasive killing intent radiating from him struck fear into everyone present in the tavern.

The young man, whose true identity was a Beiliang spy, stated in a low voice, "This has nothing to do with Eryu. She is merely a storyteller. I may die, but she must not."

Yuan Tingshan scoffed as if he had heard the greatest joke. "Whether you live or die depends on my mood. But she 'cannot die'? What exactly does 'cannot' mean? With your paltry skills? Or do you imagine your identity as a Hushui Bureau death warrior can intimidate me, Yuan Tingshan?"

The young man from the Hushui Bureau wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth with his thumb. "Of course, I alone am not enough," he said.

The young Beiliang death warrior, resolute in his determination to die, grinned. "In your Liaodong territory, you, 'Mad Dog Yuan,' can certainly kill, and I couldn't stop you even if I tried with all my might. But do you dare to kill her? Aren't you curious why an ordinary storyteller would have me accompanying her all this way?"

Yuan Tingshan's palm rested on the hilt of his "number one talisman saber." "Oh?" he drawled. "You've almost scared your daddy to death with that."

The young man calmly stated, "Her name is Eryu. She is a guest of our Protector Chu."

The young man added, his tone measured, "She is also a friend of our King. While I don't know the precise consequences if she were to die in Liaodong, I am certain of one thing: our King will personally demand an explanation from all of Liangliao for it."

Yuan Tingshan's fingers abruptly tightened around the hilt of his Nan Hua Saber, poised to draw and kill.

Xu Fengnian, though far away in the Northwest, despite being the Beiliang King commanding 300,000 iron cavalry and one of the world's four Grandmasters, still couldn't deter Yuan Tingshan from killing a mere Hushui Bureau death warrior and an insignificant woman who earned her living by storytelling.

You, Xu Fengnian, are already preoccupied with your own affairs. Do you truly have the leisure to concern yourself with the life or death of a mere woman?

But at that very moment, Grand Marshal Gu Jiantang, who had not risen to greet either set of guests, had imperceptibly moved to stand near the railing. In a deep voice, he addressed Yuan Tingshan downstairs: "Enough."

Yuan Tingshan did not turn. His incomparably sharp Nan Hua Saber was poised to be drawn and taste blood.

Gu Jiantang, expressionless, turned and settled back into his seat, but now held in his hand the renowned saber he had once gifted to Yuan Tingshan.

Yuan Tingshan strode out of the tavern, leaving Taiping Town and Liaodong directly to return to Jizhou.

The woman sighed softly.

The mission personally entrusted to them by Xie Guanying, the scholar who seemed like an immortal, was likely now ruined.

Gu Jiantang's actions were, in essence, a polite refusal of the couple.

This was because the Southern Frontier and Western Shu held fundamentally different attitudes towards Beiliang, or more precisely, towards Xu Fengnian.

Cheng Baishuang offered a faint smile, then lowered his head and took a sip of wine.

The wine was good.

It was a pity it wasn't the "Green Ant Wine" our Young Master so frequently mentioned; that would have made it even better.