Chapter 929: Someone Seeks Death, Someone Seeks Life

The wealthy patrons, usually accustomed to spending lavishly at the inn, were now utterly terrified. For instance, an official was huddled under a table, clutching his head and sobbing. As the magistrate of the county, he had originally used "inspecting the local populace" as a pretext to visit Beian Town. His plan was to enjoy some harmless pleasure, satisfy his appetite, and then, at the venerable age of fifty, "tame a spirited mare or two" at the neighboring brothel—a truly "heroic" act for an old man. However, upon hearing about the deaths, he knew this was no place to linger. His legs were too weak to move, and he feared that those ruthless killers, who wouldn't bat an eyelid at murder, might simply slaughter innocents if he annoyed them.

At this particular table, the only person still seated and drinking was the scholar from another region, who this year had practically no standing in the local yamen. Being a physically delicate scholar, he even slowly moved the screen aside, simply to gain a clearer view and take in the entire bloody battle unfolding before him—a clash of martial arts masters. What does it mean to remain composed during major events? Perhaps this was it. However, this absurd act of "scholarly elegance" undoubtedly provoked unanimous indignation from his colleagues under the table and the gentry of Beian Town.

Not all patrons were content to wait for death. Several tables of martial artists, after the appearance of the saber-wielding young master, stealthily crept along the wall by the window, attempting to go downstairs. However, on the staircase railing stood an exquisite woman in a deep red robe, like a majestic Bodhisattva in a shrine, radiating authority without needing to express anger.

She didn't even need to speak; all the martial arts heroes wisely returned to their original seats.

One quick-witted fellow quietly opened a window, attempting to jump out, but the sight nearly scared him out of his wits.

He saw a head hanging upside down outside the window.

After staring wide-eyed, he said nothing, slowly closing the window. He seemed afraid of leaving any gap, pulling it inward with force before finally sitting on his chair. He muttered to himself, "There are gods three feet above your head. Grievances should be avenged, and hatred repaid. Even if you're a vengeful spirit, don't mind that I, Wang Jian, am a man in his thirties. I'm actually still a virgin, full of vital yang energy. If you come for me, we'll both suffer."

At this moment, the atmosphere was extremely delicate.

By blind female zither player Xue Songguan, the screen had already been effortlessly knocked down by the vibrant Miao woman. She sat cross-legged on her chair, her eyes sparkling, staring at the saber-wielding young master's profile. She licked her lips and exclaimed, "So handsome!"

Wei Miao, the top martial artist from Nanzhao and her husband, nodded with a smile. This unassuming man never took offense at his wife's unconventional behavior.

There were countless good things in the world, but his wife's happiness was paramount.

Meanwhile, Su Su, whose true identity was the exiled prince of Western Shu, felt a complex mix of emotions and a surge of jealousy after seeing that person again.

Just based on this, he could be considered a "fellow sufferer" with Wu Liuding, the contemporary sword master of Sword Mound.

At Liu Nirong's table, only Mao Shulang remained seated after setting down his wine cup. Cheng Baishuang and Ji Liu'an had both left their chairs, and Lin Hongyuan, now the esteemed master of the Southern Frontier Dragon Palace, had sprung to her feet.

Further away, the young hero from Baling Commandery, who had seen both a land deity and a martial arts immortal in a single day, looked as if he was about to burst into tears.

He felt that this one day had already encompassed a lifetime in the martial arts world; even if he were to retire tomorrow, marry, and have children, he would have no regrets.

It seemed the only one still in the dark was Guo Xuan, the inn's second manager. Just as he was about to glare angrily at the young man who seemed to "swallow the sun and spit out the moon while yawning like a toad," he immediately shut his mouth.

He saw that the fat eunuch, known as Eunuch Song, looked as if he had been struck by lightning. His pale, fleshy cheeks trembled violently, and he couldn't utter a single word.

A middle-aged assassin, knocked to the ground by Ji Liu'an's wine cup, gritted his teeth and said, "Xu Fengnian!"

Almost simultaneously, Eunuch Liu, the Seal-Keeper of the Directorate of Ceremonials, who had not risen since taking his seat that night, finally stood up slowly. He bowed slightly, his manner humble but not sycophantic, and said in a steady voice, "This servant greets the King of Northern Liang. Earlier at the Longju River ferry crossing, this servant was disrespectful. I hope Your Highness will be magnanimous."

Eunuchs in Tai'an City, regardless of their rank, had no reason to kneel before a vassal king of a different surname, not even a vassal king of the imperial clan.

Logically, when holding an imperial decree, even imperial relatives should kneel to receive it.

However, facing this Northwest vassal king, Eunuch Liu, the chief eunuch, dared not entertain such expectations, nor would Eunuch Song Tanglu, the Director of Ceremonials, have such a thought.

Previously, it was because of the 300,000 Northern Liang cavalry behind him.

Now there was an additional reason, one solely related to him: the battle at the Imperial Astronomy Bureau. The portraits of the Dragon Tiger Mountain patriarchs, which had received incense offerings from the Zhao imperial family of Liyang for generations, were now few and far between.

The slow-witted Guo Xuan was about to try to redeem himself when he heard the young vassal king chuckle softly, "Second manager, that's enough. Stop acting."

Guo Xuan froze on the spot.

Xu Fengnian looked at the three eunuchs and Commander Qian of the Imperial Guards, who seemed to be facing a formidable enemy. After withdrawing his gaze, he re-examined the inn's second manager. "Why would one need martial arts to kill?" he said. "Whether it's those incompetent fighters lying on the ground, or the four assassins from Gulu Tower, or even the hidden enforcer in the Fish Dragon Gang—none of them were the real deadly strike. In the end, it all came down to you, the mastermind, and the poison you put in their food and wine, didn't it?"

The Miao woman in the distance clapped her hands and cheered, "Not only is this child handsome, but his insight is also sharp!"

Guo Xuan's expression flickered, then finally he seemed relieved. He subtly straightened his back, turned to face the young vassal king directly, and burst into loud laughter, exclaiming, "As expected of one of the Eleven Great Masters of the Martial Arts Rankings! As expected of the King of Northern Liang! As expected of the son of Xu Xiao, the Human Butcher!"

He repeated "as expected" three times.

The laughter of this clever and calculating middle-aged man was wild, desolate, and utterly tragic.

Xu Fengnian again scanned his surroundings: the dead assassins from Gulu Tower, the Spring and Autumn loyalists whose states had fallen, the standing eunuchs, and further away, Lin Hongyuan's table. He muttered to himself, "It's all a technical job."

Guo Xuan's lips curled into a sneer, showing no fear whatsoever.

Xu Fengnian pursed his lips. "The poison you bought at great expense or painstakingly prepared has an extremely slow onset," he said. "After they became terminally ill, it should have taken effect and killed them just before or after reaching Qingliang Mountain. It was once a method specifically used by the Southern Tang court during the Spring and Autumn period against martial arts grandmasters, rumored to easily break even the Vajra Indestructible Body."

Guo Xuan's eyes were filled with bone-deep hatred and satisfaction. He sneered, "What, Your Highness thinks you can pry the antidote formula from my mouth?"

Xu Fengnian seemed about to speak, then stopped, finally saying nonchalantly, "I don't hope for it. Some things cannot be reasoned with."

A trace of dark, chilling blood suddenly seeped from the corner of Guo Xuan's mouth. Before he collapsed and died, this loyalist from the Spring and Autumn period, who had painstakingly orchestrated this assassination, whispered, "I, Guo Xuanxiang, have lingered for half a lifetime, and now I die where I belong."

The middle-aged man on the ground, who had called out Xu Fengnian's name, raised his arm high, about to smash his head to commit suicide.

But a young woman lying not far from him, who should have been a beauty admired and lusted after by countless young men in the martial arts world, looked up at the young vassal king. Her expression crumbled, her face a pitiable mess of tears and snot. She cried, "King of Northern Liang, don't kill me! I don't want to die! I really don't want to die! I've already sacrificed too much for revenge; I don't owe my family anything anymore!"

The woman's piercing cries echoed jarringly through the inn.

Perhaps no one realized that amidst this night's relentless, death-defying struggle, this was the only sound of weeping.

The loyalists of the Eight Spring and Autumn States regarded Xu Xiao, the Butcher of Liyang, as the primary culprit for the Central Plains' devastation. Faced with the tragic reality of their broken lands, some chose to die for their country, leading to trees draped in white silk and wells filled with corpses in the capital of Western Shu. Some chose to flee, forming the great northern exodus of Hongjia. Others chose to hide, leading to many martial arts sects in the territories of fallen dynasties suddenly gaining numerous unknown enforcers and young disciples overnight. Many wealthy households with deep courtyards suddenly had numerous infants in swaddling clothes. Many men and women seemed to marry in haste after falling in love at first sight. Many temples and even brothels saw an influx: the former gaining cultured old men, the latter, many elegant and refined courtesans who seemed like well-bred young ladies.

During the Spring and Autumn Wars, General Xu Xiao of Liyang fought until countless saber blades were blunted and smoke signals of war arose everywhere in the Central Plains. He slew until the once-powerful Spring and Autumn clans, who had witnessed the rise and fall of countless dynasties, vanished like smoke.

Afterward, Xu Xiao led his cavalry to sweep through the martial arts world, from south to north, virtually annihilating it. Yet, he could not eliminate all those in the sects and gangs who harbored national hatred and family vendettas.

If the roots are not removed, the weeds will regrow with the spring breeze.

Therefore, every time the former Prince of Northern Liang traveled, people would die—Spring and Autumn loyalists would die, and so would those from the Fushui Chamber.

Over the years, assassins who bravely attacked Qingliang Mountain to their deaths were as numerous as carps crossing a river.

In the end, even the maids he lived with day and night in Wutong Courtyard died. Furthermore, those two women, whose nicknames the Prince himself had helped them choose, died loyally without major regret at their end.

Xu Fengnian clearly remembered the first assassination that alarmed Wutong Courtyard. On that snowy winter night, he had run out of the house barefoot and stood on the porch. He looked at the heavily guarded courtyard; everywhere he looked, there were corpses. The heavy snow was stained with blood, then covered again by more snow, ultimately turning everything white.

The man, whose leg wasn't as lame and back wasn't as hunched then, also came out barefoot. After standing on the porch beside the boy, he told the iron-armored palace guards to kick the corpses away and laughed, "Son, your father has too many enemies in this life to count, and I'm too lazy to bother. Are you afraid?"

The boy, whether from cold or fear, was trembling, but he stubbornly retorted, "Afraid of nothing!"

The man, whose hair wasn't yet completely white then, took off his old sable fur cloak and draped it over the boy. He laughed heartily, "You're a true descendant of our Old Xu family!"

The boy rolled his eyes, clutched the warm sable fur tightly, and quickly ran back inside.

The man, who hadn't been called "father" by his son since his wife's death, turned, stepped down from the porch, and strode out of the courtyard. But as soon as he exited the gate, all his grand bearing vanished. He was so cold he almost hopped, and upon seeing his adopted son Yuan Zuozong closely following him, he immediately kicked him without a word. Yuan Zuozong looked bewildered. The man, eyes wide, hissed through gritted teeth in a low voice, "Take off your boots!"

Unfortunately, the boy did not see that comical scene.

At this moment, on the third floor, an angry shout interrupted the woman's crying: "Shut up!"

The woman was startled, and her heartbroken wailing turned into soft sobs.

The middle-aged assassin who had spoken glared at the young woman and said sternly, "My Chongshan Song family has been loyal for generations. We will never have descendants who bring shame to our ancestors!"

After saying this, a complex look flashed in the middle-aged man's eyes, and he finally raised his arm abruptly, striking hard at the woman's forehead.

Living in humiliation for twenty years, only to die with dignity.

This was the only wish of this man from the Song clan.

As for what the younger generation of his family thought, he no longer cared.

Although the woman could muster the courage to beg the King of Northern Liang for mercy, she had exhausted all her spiritual and mental strength. At this moment, she had no courage left to resist the furious, ruthless hand of her family elder.

Xu Fengnian, who had been relatively gentle in his speech, suddenly flew into a rage. The next moment, he appeared before the man on the ground and stomped on the head of the man who had tried to "destroy kin for righteousness."

The assassin, killed instantly, slid several yards backward.

Xu Fengnian took a deep breath, quickly stabilizing the vital energy within him. The sudden surge of his aura didn't feel particularly oppressive to ordinary martial artists, and even Lin Hongyuan only felt a slight suffocation. However, the five martial arts grandmasters—Wei Miao, Mao Shulang, Cheng Baishuang, Ji Liu'an, and Xue Songguan—almost simultaneously raised their respective auras to their peak. The blind zither player even pressed her hands heavily on the strings, while Mao Shulang, who had risen, nearly drew his saber.

Xu Fengnian looked at the young enforcer beside Liu Nirong and nodded.

The latter silently stepped forward and made an obscure gesture. As the young enforcer made this move, three individuals of completely different backgrounds quickly emerged from the third floor: a courtesan from the neighboring brothel, an elderly waiter with a cotton towel draped over his shoulder and a wine pot in his hand, and a local Northern Liang martial artist who had been watching the excitement with a group of newly befriended foreign heroes. The four of them began to clear the battlefield together, carrying all the surviving Spring and Autumn loyalists downstairs. Whether they would be dragged out and killed to end it all, or subjected to tortures worse than death, no one was interested anymore. If at this point no one could discern the identities of these four, they truly had a donkey's kick to the head.

They were either spies trained by the Fushui Chamber, or death warriors kept by the Eagle-Rearing Chamber, or perhaps a combination of both.

The inn belonged to the Fish Dragon Gang, but Liu Nirong always seemed like an outsider.

Xu Fengnian turned to face the three eunuchs and said expressionlessly, "There's no need to worry about the poisoning. Also, once you deliver the imperial decree to Qingliang Mountain, you may return to Tai'an City."

Eunuch Liu said nothing and was the first to walk towards the stairs.

As he passed the young vassal king, he deliberately or inadvertently slowed his pace, his eyes filled with inquiry.

As the Director of Ceremonials passed him, Xu Fengnian whispered, as if speaking in riddles, "Tell him she's doing well."

Eunuch Liu looked straight ahead, but subtly bent at the waist, and then quickened his pace.