Chapter 852: North Liang's Repeated Objections

Xu Yanbing, leaning against a pillar outside the corridor, exhaled heavily. The martial artist, who had been forcibly suppressing his seething anger, was ready to act. Unlike Wang Jijiu, Xu Yanbing was a man of action; as a warrior, he always preferred to settle matters with his fists rather than words. Han Laomao, his fellow disciple and now the General of Lingzhou, was the first person he wanted to strike that night.

But Xu Yanbing paused, startled, as a figure in a white robe slowly approached from a distance. In Xu Yanbing's eyes, this young man of obscure origins was probably the only person in the world more captivating than Chen Yu and even more handsome than Xu Fengnian. In earlier years, he had met the Young Lord in the Jianghu, once read books in the Tidewater Pavilion, and later lent his sword to the Young Lord for his travels. The White Fox-faced Man.

He brushed past Jin Baoshi, walked behind Wang Jijiu, and stood at the entrance, stating coldly, "Xu Fengnian, are you a man? If you are, go to Guangling Road. I'll go with you."

Xu Fengnian did not rise. He asked softly, "What if I go swiftly and return, without taking a single soldier?"

Chu Lushan, the Beiliang Protector-General, who had been feigning deafness and muteness, struggled to his feet. For the first time, he shook his head at the "Young Lord" with an undeniable tone, "I, Chu Lushan, will be the first to object!"

Yan Wenluan also rose, "I, Yan Wenluan, object!"

Xu Beizhi and Chen Xiliang rose almost simultaneously, both echoing their objection. Almost everyone stood up, refusing to agree. Among them were Xu Xiao's adopted sons, like Yuan Zuozong and Qi Dangguo; brothers like Li Hanlin; elders like Gu Dazu and Huang Chang, whom Xu Fengnian himself had brought to Beiliang and given high positions; and young, promising military generals like Chang Sui, Xu Huang, and Hong Biao, on whom Xu Fengnian placed great hopes. All of them objected.

Xu Fengnian slowly stood up, looking at the White Fox-faced Man with a forced smile. The White Fox-faced Man said nothing, merely unfastened Embroidered Winter, one of the twin blades at his waist, and tossed it high to Xu Fengnian, calmly saying, "Just come with me."

Xu Yanbing stood beside the White Fox-faced Man, arms crossed, simply nodding at the young lord. Xu Fengnian subconsciously reached out and caught the familiar Embroidered Winter saber. Then, the light before him dimmed, as Huang Man'er stood in front of him, blocking everyone, striking his palm with his fist, and stating coldly, "Whoever stops my brother dies!"

Xu Fengnian gently patted Huang Man'er's shoulder. The latter turned, and Xu Fengnian softly said, "Sit back down."

Xu Longxiang shook his head.

Xu Fengnian said calmly, "Sit back down."

Xu Longxiang roared, "No!"

The White Fox-faced Man narrowed his peach-blossom eyes, his thumb resting on the hilt of the Spring Thunder saber, ready to draw it from its sheath.

Xu Fengnian returned to his seat, placed the Embroidered Winter saber on his lap, and once again bent down to pick up the fire tongs, his lips moving slightly. A faint hissing sound, particularly jarring in the silent council hall. Like drops of water falling into a brazier.

The White Fox-faced Man's face was filled with anger. "Xu Fengnian!"

Even Xu Yanbing radiated killing intent. He looked at Han Laomao, "If you don't sit down, then take a spear from me. At most, next Qingming Festival, I, Xu Yanbing, will toast you." For some reason, Xu Yanbing saw the man wink, an inexplicable smile on his face.

From the main seat, Xu Fengnian, his expression unseen, lowered his head and quietly said, "I'll be right back." Then, he vanished in a flash, and in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the young lord returned to his seat. During this time, the young man had visited a masterless house. This year, for the first time, a spring couplet with the character "Spring" was pasted outside the humble dwelling. He hadn't put it up himself; he had discreetly sent his two disciples, Wang Sheng and Yu Dilong, to do it. He had originally hoped that after bringing her back to Qingliang Mountain, she would be pleasantly surprised. It seemed he was destined to break his promise.

Xu Fengnian rubbed his cheeks and looked up.

Across the Central Plains, people were observing the New Year's Eve, and in the capital of Western Chu, firecrackers crackled, bidding farewell to the old year. Amidst the festive atmosphere, a young woman in a dragon robe sat alone in the imperial study. At her feet was a large charcoal brazier, well-fueled, burning from dusk until now, its coals emitting a pleasant, warm, non-scalding heat. The empress of Western Chu, who reigned over all, showed no sign of sleepiness. She sat on a small stool, her body curled, her chin resting on her clasped hands. A small gourde was tied to her wrist, from which came a soft, trembling, clear, and melodious chirping.

Life is fleeting, like a plant's autumn, and the lives of insects are even more transient. Yet, a long-standing tradition in the Great Chu Imperial Palace dictates that every autumn, the Department of Imperial Household captures crickets and katydids. These insects are then nurtured in embroidered cages and clay pots on heated kangs, covered with soil, and watered. They only reach maturity by winter, just in time to be used for the New Year's Day spring banquet, where their loud chirping complements the sound of firecrackers. Within the small gourde on Jiang Si's wrist at that moment were several long-lived insects, whose delicate chirping, with fluttering wings, filled the air.

"Gourde" (hulu) is a homophone for "fortune and prosperity" (fulu). Ancient texts mention "eating melons in July, cutting gourdes in August," and folk legends claim gourdes can absorb all evil spirits between heaven and earth. Therefore, successive empresses in the Great Chu Imperial Palace would personally plant gourd seedlings every spring. When the gourd trellises were lush green in mid-summer, and the gourdes were harvested in autumn, the Department of Imperial Household would fashion them into ladles or wine vessels, which the emperor would then bestow upon meritorious officials.

Jiang Si raised her arm, looking at the small, yellowish gourde. She wasn't thinking of the Jiang clan's Great Chu traditions, but rather recalling the verdant vegetable patch on that mountain all those years ago. Every day after work, she would squat there, watching that greenery deepen, a joy she had never shared with anyone, not even with Uncle Qi Daizhao or the old man in the sheepskin robe. Ever since she could remember, even now sitting on the dragon throne of Western Chu, she felt that only that small vegetable patch truly belonged to her in this life. The Great Chu Empire, the battlefield of Xileibi, the capital city—all felt alien to her; she could never truly connect with them.

Moving books up Wudang Mountain, then reading for someone to earn money, later practicing calligraphy and swordsmanship with Li Chungang, and finally donning this most noble and luxurious attire in the world...

Jiang Si sighed, holding the small gourde to her ear, listening to the chirping within. She couldn't detect any hint of festivity; an inexplicable melancholy washed over her. Looking at the large room, which wasn't gloomy despite being lit only by red candles, Jiang Si still felt a little afraid, even though palace maids stood outside. She had been timid since childhood, performing only two great feats in her life: one was assassinating someone with a dagger and a divine talisman, and the second was probably practicing swordsmanship. As for becoming the first empress in Central Plains history, whose name would be remembered for eternity, she felt no particular emotion about it. The word "home"—she pondered it over and over, only to realize with chagrin that deep within her heart, the dilapidated house that became chillingly cold in winter felt most like a home.

Back then, every New Year's Eve, a hateful fellow of similar age would swagger behind the old man she feared most, to paste spring couplets. Once, that boy even deliberately came to her room, smiling, and asked if she wanted spring couplets hung on either side of her doorframe. Of course, she said no, but she knew, though unwilling to admit it, that she did.

The city-wide sound of firecrackers grew louder. Jiang Si stood up and went to the window, knowing that the moment of transition from old to new was imminent. Suddenly, a creak sounded behind her as someone pushed the door open. Jiang Si smiled and turned, and as expected, it was Uncle Qi Daizhao. Seeing this kind elder always brought her a sense of peace.

Cao Changqing gently closed the door. The palace maids outside feigned ignorance. This man, hailed as the most distinguished individual in Great Chu, held a position in the hearts of its people that even the current emperor could not compare to. From top to bottom, everyone in Western Chu held a heartfelt admiration for Cao Changqing, the imperial tutor. Cao Changqing crouched by the brazier, holding his hands over the charcoal to warm them. Logically, with his cultivation as a Confucian Saint and a Land Immortal, he should have long been impervious to heat and cold.

Jiang Si sat back on her small stool, her face radiating a bright smile.

Cao Changqing hesitated for a moment before speaking: "The New Year and Spring Festival are almost here. I should be bringing good tidings, but there's something I thought best to clarify with Your Majesty first. We recently received news that many Beiliang generals will be gathering in their council hall these next few days."

The young empress looked bewildered and asked, "Ah? Are they going to celebrate the New Year so early?"

Cao Changqing gave a wry smile, a hint of sadness in his voice: "In my initial estimation, if he were to deploy troops to Guangling Road, Beiliang would not stop him, as it's not suitable for a hasty southern expedition. Liyang would be even less able to stop him, given that both sides hold positions as military commissioners, placing Liyang at a disadvantage. Thus, the only ones who could restrain him would be those within Beiliang itself. I had thought that with Chu Lushan, Yuan Zuozong, Chen Xiliang, and Xu Beizhi supporting him, there wouldn't be such a grand mobilization. It seems I still underestimated Beiliang's cohesion and the Beiliang military's desire for victory against Beimang. If this is the case, then before last year, Xu Fengnian would still have insisted on deploying troops, or at least going south alone. But now..."

Jiang Si lowered her head, hummed softly, and said, "It's alright. I wasn't expecting him to come."

Cao Changqing remained silent for a long time, then his voice grew hoarse, "Your Majesty, there is one thing you must remember: it's not that he doesn't want to come, but that he cannot. You truly cannot blame Xu Fengnian for this."

Jiang Si gazed blankly at the brazier fire, saying nothing.

Cao Changqing gave a bitter laugh, "Originally, I had planned to go north when Beiliang dispatched troops to Guangling Road. Now, I'll have to make other arrangements."

The absent-minded Jiang Si clearly didn't notice that Uncle Qi Daizhao said "I" instead of leading an army north. As Cao Changqing used the tongs to prod the charcoal, making the brazier a little warmer, he said softly, "It was my mistake. I shouldn't have forced Your Majesty to return here using the righteousness of nation and family."

Jiang Si shook her head.

Cao Changqing suddenly, for the first time, revealed a hint of unconcealed anger. "Xu Fengnian has never disappointed Beiliang, never let them down. Why then, Beiliang, have you come to this?! How is this any different from me, Cao Changqing?!"

Jiang Si looked up, instead appearing somewhat relieved. She smiled, took off the small gourde, and handed it to Cao Changqing, "Uncle Qi Daizhao, listen."

The Confucian scholar, with his frosted temples, did not take the small gourde. His fists clenched tightly, and he closed his eyes, his face etched with pain.

Outside the window, as the New Year dawned, a heavy snowfall once again blanketed the land north and south of the great river, a propitious sign of a bountiful year. Snowflakes fell from the sky, blanketing the world until no song remained.

But Xu Fengnian, Xu Weixiong, Wang Jijiu, and the White Fox-faced Man, who were in Beiliang, along with the Little Clay Man from Guangling Road and Cao Changqing—leaving aside the past, on this New Year's Eve, it seemed they had all forgotten that Beiliang was never Liyang!

Therefore, the scene that followed would be unforgettable for Jin Baoshi for the rest of his life. Wang Jijiu was utterly dumbfounded.

Chu Lushan stepped forward, turned to face the main seat, clasped his hands, bowed his head, and declared loudly, "Whether the King of Beiliang leads ten thousand selected cavalry south, or rushes to Guangling Road alone, I, Chu Lushan, will be the second to object!"

Yuan Zuozong also stepped forward, mirroring Chu Lushan's action, "If Prince doesn't have me, Yuan Zuozong, by his side, I, Yuan Zuozong, will certainly object!"

Yan Wenluan snorted coldly, strode forward, and similarly, sneered, "Without the Great Snow Dragon Riders entering the Central Plains, how can the might of our Beiliang army be displayed? How can I, Yan Wenluan, possibly agree!"

Xu Beizhi said lazily, "The dignified King of Beiliang, commanding 300,000 iron cavalry, is going to lead some 'elites'—drawn from various places—to the Central Plains? Beiliang cannot afford such a disgrace. How can I, Xu Beizhi, agree?"

Song Dongming immediately stepped forward, clasped his hands, and laughed heartily, "People say that I, Song Dongming, am an unworthy Vice-Military Commissioner, and that's fine. But should the Beiliang Iron Cavalry, whose combat strength is unmatched under heaven, also be underestimated? Even as a scholar, I, Song Dongming, cannot agree!"

Li Hanlin called out, "Young Master Nian, if you are to marry your little sister-in-law, how can you do it with insufficient dowry? As your brother, I cannot agree!"

After a chorus of objections, Bai Yu waited for his turn to conclude, smiling, "The Central Plains cannot accommodate a woman who grew up in the Xu family. Our Beiliang Iron Cavalry naturally cannot agree! I believe that those gentlemen like Liu Jinu and Wang Lingbao would also not agree!" Bai Yu extended a finger, pointing to the empty chair beside the young lord. "Even if you, Xu Fengnian, could agree, the Grand General would be the first to object!"

Xu Fengnian wore a bewildered expression.

Everyone burst into knowing laughter. They had conspired together, acting this whole time, and it was truly damn hard to hold back. Xu Beizhi's face was radiant with a smile as he exchanged a glance with Chu Lushan. The two of them were the masterminds behind this play. Beiliang, with its 300,000 iron cavalry beyond the pass and a million households within, all owed their King of Beiliang a surprise!

Under everyone's gaze, Xu Fengnian raised an arm, wiped his eyes, and quietly cursed, "Bastards."

At that moment, everyone said in unison, "Grand General, please take your seat!"

Wang Jijiu looked at the hall filled with civil and military officials. The old man sat down on the threshold, trembling with excitement, and muttering to himself, recalling a certain young man's catchphrase, "It's a skilled job; there's no way to reward it."

At that moment, Xu Fengnian had never felt such surging spirit in his entire life, neither when he battled Tuoba Pusa for a thousand li, nor when he fought two men alone at Xiamawei, nor when he killed in the Imperial Astronomical Bureau. The young lord, with a sweep of his sleeve, was the first to sit on the chair, declaring loudly, "Sit!"