Chapter 447: What a Coincidence, I'm Also a Swordsman
Narrow road meeting.
A light cavalry unit of over thirty men slowly reined in their horses. Heavy snow covered their bows and sabers; they were exceptionally fierce and battle-hardened.
About half of the riders held torches. The few at the front were not wearing standard armor, clustered around a young man with a face as fair as jade. Snow and wind stung his eyes. He was draped in a snow-white fox-fur cloak, squinting at the three riders ahead, his thin, scarlet lips pursed. He was a dashing young noble.
Flanking him on either side were three personal guards. To his left were a burly man holding a long lance, its tip gleaming brightly in the torchlight of the riders behind. Next to him was a wiry, monkey-like man with his arms crossed. He carried no bow, saber, or hanging sword, but on either side of his saddle hung several frozen human heads, their faces covered in blood and grime.
To his right was a single man, around forty years old, with a dull expression. On his back was a long sword in a pine-patterned wooden scabbard; the pommel was actually shaped like a ganoderma mushroom. The man frequently covered his mouth to cough.
The young man seemed most familiar with the middle-aged man on his right. Sitting tall in the saddle, he would lean slightly towards him.
After coughing, the middle-aged swordsman glanced at the three riders about fifty paces away and said softly, "Your Highness, as I said before, it's indeed two people and one ghost. That female ghost, wrapped in fox fur, is very likely a fox-fur beauty talisman paper, exclusive to the Xu Clan of Pure Breeze City."
The middle-aged swordsman reached out a hand, as if to catch some snowflakes. But unexpectedly, a tiny, exquisite spirit, only a finger tall, appeared in his palm. It was completely snow-white, with a pair of feathered wings on its back, blending perfectly with the wind and snow. Even at such a close distance, the little thing was hard to detect. This must be what they called an immortal scout. Its function was similar to the 'mountain-and-river in the palm' of a divine being, except one relied on spells, the other on a living creature.
"Hard work," the man said with a smile to the little creature on his palm. He took a small, exquisite celadon porcelain jar from his sleeve. The spirit flew into it, and the man slowly tucked the jar back into his sleeve.
The young man, whom this swordsman respectfully addressed as "Your Highness," raised an eyebrow. His eyes burned with passion, and he leaned over even more, smiling, "Mister Zeng, I've heard of the Xu Clan of Pure Breeze City. It's just that my Empress Mother couldn't bear to let me leave the capital for my fief, delaying for eight years. I spent years cooped up in the mansion in the capital. To avoid suspicion, and to save those censors in the Censorate some ink on their memorials, I never had much chance to interact with immortal masters from the mountains. This fox-fur beauty talisman—what exactly is it? Where lies its wonder? You, Mister Zeng, are learned and have traveled half a continent. Please enlighten me?"
While the young man was speaking, the middle-aged swordsman, probably troubled by the wind and snow, had already taken out a porcelain bottle. He poured out two emerald-green, crystal-clear pills, each the size of a soybean, and tossed them into his mouth with a flick of his wrist. His complexion brightened somewhat after taking the medicine, and a smile appeared on his face. He said, "The Xu Clan controls a millennium-old fox mound inhabited by old foxes. As part of their alliances, they annually send out fox pelts ranging from a hundred to three hundred years of age to make talisman paper. These are sold all over Bottle Gourd Continent, popular across more than half the continent. Those earthly immortal mansions that don't worry about immortal money mostly have a few fox-fur beauties as maidservants. These talisman beauties, once activated, are no different from living people. The talisman paper can also house yin spirits and ghosts. That female ghost ahead should be such a case. If a mountain immortal sect has good relations with the Xu Clan of Pure Breeze City, they can even send portraits of their desired women when purchasing fox-fur talismans. The Xu Clan then has specialists carve the pattern onto the pelt. A few of their old revered consultants are master painters skilled in this art, and they have never disappointed a buyer."
The young man understood and looked at the "woman" who had stopped her horse in the distance, his gaze becoming even more covetous.
Although he hadn't left the capital for his fief according to ancestral law over the years, he hadn't wasted his time in the capital. His greatest hobby was leaving that cage, which had twice served as a "Dragon's Lair" in history, disguised as a failed scholar or a wandering knight-errant visiting the capital. He had already tasted every kind of delicate beauty. Especially the female relatives of those censors—any woman or maiden with even a hint of attractiveness had been seduced by him, body and heart. So those impeaching memorials that fluttered like snowflakes onto the imperial desk? He could even browse through them casually. After all, the seemingly strict and terrifying imperial family still doted on their youngest son. Besides, his Empress Mother's methods were not simple. His father was completely under her thumb. When the family of three gathered privately, the sovereign of a nation, even when his Empress Mother teased him as a "donkey she could lead by the ear," didn't feel ashamed but laughed heartily. So he really didn't care about those memorials meant to kill boring time. He felt that if those old bastards didn't curse him a bit, he would be so ashamed he wouldn't know where to put himself.
But living such a carefree life for too long, he always felt something was missing.
He was someone who would become emperor. So he couldn't become a middle-five-realm immortal; he couldn't endure the hardship of tempering his physique or practicing standing stances and boxing forms. He couldn't become a true martial grandmaster either. As for leading troops in battle, killing back and forth—he had no interest in that.
So he couldn't help but blame his Empress Mother a little. The Crown Prince wasn't him, and now even the title of Virtuous Prince wasn't his. Was his Empress Mother really doting on him? Or was she deliberately keeping him around like a good-for-nothing? His two older brothers were the late Empress's bastards. Look at his miserable plight now. His Empress Mother had found an excuse to drive him out, like a homeless dog, unable to return home, only able to wander around outside the capital. He was already sick of those rustic country women, full of earthy air. No matter how beautiful those women were, they couldn't compare to the wives of powerful families in knowing how to serve a man. And that wasn't even the worst part. When he secretly left the capital, his Empress Mother gave him a death order: he must personally lead men to kill Da Li scouts. Wasn't that forcing him onto a dead end? He actually didn't think highly of the empty-shell Zhu Ying dynasty. Deep down, he wanted to defect to the powerful Da Li barbarians. If he were the one sitting on the dragon throne, he would have already opened the capital's gates, personally leading Su Gaoshan's horse into the city. What was so fun about war? He would rather witness a battle between thousands of qi refiners—that was true immortals fighting. Fighting on horseback? Two colonies of ants wrestling?
But this trip out had been decent enough. He had encountered a fox-fur beauty ghost identical to a living person.
The young prince was overjoyed.
The three opposing riders had also stopped for a long time, just facing off against the elite cavalry.
The prince named Han Jingxin of Shi Hao Kingdom, the most infamous member of the royal family, both in court and among the common people, smiled more and more.
Courageous. The other party had not obediently given way.
No wonder he had a fox-fur beauty. Either he was a lawless wild cultivator from Calligraphy Ink Lake, or a registered immortal master within Shi Hao Kingdom. Young and hot-headed, understandable.
Unfortunately, in this desolate wilderness, status was useless.
Killing on a snowy night—Han Jingxin felt it had a great atmosphere. The recent pursuit and killing had been too small-time. They had only killed a censor who had retired early in early autumn and was traveling south from the capital slower than a crawling turtle. It was his own fault for not having a daughter with decent looks, or marrying a woman worth a second glance. Since that was the case, there was no point in showing mercy. That old man had cursed him so heartily, even dragging in his father and mother, implicating them all. He had earned himself the reputation of an iron-tongued remonstrator among the literati. And that wasn't even the worst part. Even after retiring, the old man kept complaining along the way, stopping and starting, dawdling. He also liked to criticize current affairs with some famous scholars who couldn't get official positions.
So Han Jingxin, having nothing better to do, decided to play the filial son. He caught up with that convoy, personally stabbed a hole in the old man's belly. Having listened to so many complaints over the years, his ears were calloused. He wanted to see for himself that belly full of complaints. He thought he was still merciful. When he saw the old man clutching his belly in the snow, looking so pitiful, he just chopped off his head with one swing of his saber. That head was now hanging from the saddle of that martial grandmaster. On the snowy journey back, that head remained silent, which actually made Han Jingxin somewhat unaccustomed to it.
Han Jingxin toyed with a jade pendant in one hand—a clever mountain artifact, not a true immortal treasure. It just felt warm in winter and cool in summer. It was said to be a product of Cloud Mist Mountain, a passable spiritual tool. He raised his free hand and waved, signaling the three riders to make way.
The three riders indeed slowly turned their horses, one by one, making way.
Han Jingxin was amused. Were there really such naive cultivators in the world?
Over there.
Ma Duyi softly reminded, "Mister Chen, they don't seem like righteous official family."
Chen Ping'an nodded and said something that made both Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye somewhat uncomfortable, fitting perfectly for the bone-chilling wind and snow of the night.
"I know they won't let it go. Taking a step back, just making a show of it, will make them bolder when they attack."
Zeng Ye's face stiffened, whether from the cold or from being scared by this statement.
Chen Ping'an didn't look at the timid, tall youth. He said slowly, "If our skills are lacking, the two of us will die. Ma Duyi will suffer the worst fate—it will be worse than death. If you can't understand this, then just stay in the mountains to cultivate from now on. Don't wander the martial world."
Han Jingxin raised his hand and made another gesture. The riders behind him skillfully spurred their horses forward, but they didn't start charging. They just formed a small fan-shaped blocking formation.
It was obvious.
The earlier gesture for the three riders to give way was just a cat-and-mouse game, an insignificant appetizer. The main course wasn't in a hurry to be served.
Chen Ping'an suddenly asked, "Zeng Ye, if I and Ma Duyi weren't here tonight, and it was just you and Su Xinzai, two riders, facing this cavalry unit, what would you do?"
Zeng Ye only thought for a moment before sweat instantly broke out on his forehead.
Chen Ping'an said no more.
Some truths are just so unpleasant. No matter how much others say them, unless the listener has experienced a similar situation, it's hard to truly empathize. It's only when disaster strikes.
But those who can't take in certain truths are actually the lucky ones.
Because those who have experienced misfortune, when encountering similar events, need no one to explain the truth—they already understand it in their hearts.
But none of this was what truly made Chen Ping'an uneasy the more he thought about it. What really sent a chill down his spine was the discovery that those people filled with malice towards the world, compared to kind-hearted good people, seemed more likely to remember their lessons after suffering losses. Even after suffering a small loss at the hands of someone smarter, or failing to enjoy blessings that were never theirs to begin with, they would start to ponder the principles of dealing with people, seriously thinking about how to solve various predicaments—how to borrow power, how to use a minor force to overcome a greater one, how to benefit oneself at the expense of others, how one person achieving enlightenment might even bring benefits to their entire household, all depending on the moods and interests of the enlightened one...
Chen Ping'an hoped his view was wrong, the more wrong, the better.
Why should good people be required to be smarter than bad people just to live a good life?
Chen Ping'an exhaled a mouthful of turbid air. He pointed to the young man in the cavalry unit ahead for Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye. "You might not have noticed, or didn't have the chance to see, but in the gazetteers from your Catkin Island in Calligraphy Ink Lake, I saw this man's face twice. So I know his name is Han Jingxin. He's the half-brother of Prince Han Jingling. He has a big reputation in the capital of Shi Hao Kingdom and is the most beloved biological son of the Empress of Shi Hao."
Chen Ping'an rubbed his palms together. "I've also dealt with a prince whose status was roughly equivalent to Han Jingling and Han Jingxin. Also brothers, in a place called Da Quan Dynasty on Tongye Continent. But compared to these brothers, those two from Tongye Continent seemed... smarter. When they did things, good or bad, at least they knew how to scheme. This youngest son of the Shi Hao Emperor seems to prefer head-on collisions."
Ma Duyi's expression changed slightly.
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Don't worry. No one knows your true identity. It won't implicate your family."
Ma Duyi said angrily, "Do I need you to tell me that? I'm worried about you being stubborn and leaving your life here, and then... implicating me by getting kidnapped by that lecherous prince!"
Chen Ping'an, of course, knew that Ma Duyi was genuinely concerned for his safety. As for the second half of her sentence, it was probably a woman's natural thin skin, deliberately saying harsh words to cover up her true good intentions.
Chen Ping'an turned to her and smiled. "I never told you two to turn and run, did I?"
Zeng Ye, whose mind was full of that Miss Su, thinking about how he would deal with the situation Mister Chen had described, had a head full of mush and didn't catch the implication in Mister Chen's words.
But Ma Duyi was a clever woman with a sharp mind. Otherwise, she wouldn't have reached the middle-five-realm's Cavern Dwelling stage at such a young age. If not for the terrible misfortune—when facing that river dragon, she didn't know if it was madness or something else, but she stubbornly refused to retreat—she would have had a chance to step by step climb to the high position of a Dragon Gate realm cultivator in Calligraphy Ink Lake. Then, by building good relations with her sect's founders and the cultivators of a few large islands, she could have occupied an island and "established a sect" in Calligraphy Ink Lake.
Although Ma Duyi understood Chen Ping'an's meaning, she was still worried. She said, "Mister Chen, are you really going to fight to the death with that prince?"
Ma Duyi hastily explained, "Of course, I'm not speaking up for that cavalry troop. It's just that here in Calligraphy Ink Lake, we've never really advocated for conflicts of pride. Either don't strike, or if you do, root out the problem entirely. Once we get into a conflict with this Han Jingxin, and we still have to go deeper into Shi Hao territory, passing through many northern prefectures, won't it be very troublesome? Will it delay Mister Chen's important matters?"
Chen Ping'an nodded. "I'll handle it as I see fit. Killing has never been the goal. But this Han Jingxin, after leaving the capital, seems to have gotten addicted to killing for pleasure. Among his attendants, there are a few heads hanging from a saddle. They don't look like Da Li scouts, which means they weren't intended as military merits, but rather just killing to vent his anger."
Chen Ping'an casually drew a line in the air.
This time, not only Zeng Ye didn't understand, but even Ma Duyi, with snow on her shoulders, was baffled.
Chen Ping'an slapped his forehead and said to Ma Duyi, "I forgot I could put you into my sleeve."
Ma Duyi covered her mouth and giggled.
Over at Han Jingxin's side, seeing the demeanor of that female beauty ghost, his heart burned. He felt the heavy snowfall tonight hadn't been suffered in vain.
He asked with a smile, "Would killing a few cultivators of unknown origins cause any trouble for Mister Zeng?"
The middle-aged swordsman shook his head. "Killing cultivators is not troublesome. This heavy snow can be a big help. Disposing of the bodies, if done carefully, is fine. The problem is the convoy a few dozen miles away. Your Highness deliberately didn't bury the bodies on the spot. It would be easy for someone with keen eyes to follow the trail and suspect Your Highness. Combine the two—if those three riders really are registered immortal masters from major sects on a downward journey, or wild cultivators from a large island in Calligraphy Ink Lake—it will be Your Highness who has the trouble. So you have three options now."
"First, since we've already put on a big show, learn from them and take a step back. Send someone to that young cultivator, who seems to be still recovering from a serious injury, and grandly announce your identity. Say you want to do business with him, offer to buy that beauty ghost. Suppress with authority, buy with money—that's the safest. Second, let them pass as if nothing happened. At worst, you miss out on a romantic encounter. Third, Your Highness gives the order, and we charge directly. But remember to clean up the corpses of that convoy afterward, to leave no suspicious traces. Mountain cultivators, once they become suspicious, generally don't bother reasoning."
Han Jingxin nodded. He understood these things clearly. But a personal attendant shouldn't just be someone who can fight and kill. He also needed a strategist to save his master the trouble of talking too much. This Mister Zeng was his Empress Mother's confidant. When he left the capital this time, she had him bring Mister Zeng along. It had indeed saved him a lot of trouble on the road. Han Jingxin sincerely remarked, "It's a pity Mister Zeng isn't a strategist. If I ever have the chance to become emperor, I will definitely invite you to be the National Teacher. That so-called National Guardian True Person, whom my Empress Mother hired with a heavy bounty, is just a fraud, an embroidered pillow. My father, though not very capable in handling court affairs, is not blind. He just can't be bothered to expose him. He treats him like an entertainer, just exchanging silver for the immortals' money. My father secretly told me that it only costs a few Minor Heat coins a year. He even praised my Empress Mother for being good at managing the household. Look at the National Teachers of other vassal states; if they don't get a few Grain Rain coins from the national treasury each year, they would have long since rebelled."
The monkey-like man over there was already impatient. He laughed loudly, "Just kill the ghost keeper. As for that rare and valuable fox-fur beauty ghost, leave her for His Highness to properly train. Simple. Anyway, we stripped over a dozen sets of armor from those Da Li barbarian scouts earlier. His Highness was benevolent enough to keep two of the most valuable ones instead of selling them all to that cowardly General Zhan Jin. He rewarded one to me and one to our lance-wielding poet here. We've kept them in our armor pouches. Later, after we kill those two men, His Highness can take them to the capital to claim merit. When His Majesty sees them, he'll be overjoyed. Those are specially made armors from the Da Li barbarians' army cultivators. I bet if you threw them at the feet of those old scholar-officials in the capital, none of them could even lift them. I've heard those old skeletons, with barely any meat on their bones, show off their martial prowess on their beds more than anyone else."
The young man shook his head. "Don't say those words in the capital."
He paused briefly, then said self-deprecatingly, "But now, trouble doesn't really matter anymore. Even if I grabbed them by the ears and cursed them out loud, they wouldn't have the heart to impeach me. They're all busy looking for a way out. Whether Shi Hao is surnamed Han or not doesn't matter much to them. As long as they can stay in office, isn't it all for the sake of the common people and the world's welfare?"
He glanced south. "My Virtuous Prince brother is truly fortunate. He originally wanted to hide and play the tortoise, but who would have thought that by hiding, he might just hide his way into becoming a new emperor? Even if he only gets to sit on that new dragon throne for a few days, he's still someone who has been an emperor. How can I not envy him?"
The monkey-like man was already standing on his horse's back. "Your Highness, you chat with Mr. Zeng. Just give me the word: kill those two men or not? Rest assured, I'll keep that female ghost safe and sound!"
Han Jingxin smiled. "Go on, then. And about that special armor of the Da Li Military Secretary's aide—I won't make you give it up for nothing. I'll count both merits together later."
The monkey-like man wiped his mouth and chuckled, "Following Your Highness is the best. Always meat to eat."
The monkey-like man was a seventh-tier martial artist, extremely skilled in close combat. He also possessed a famous ultimate technique that even martial artists of the same tier found troublesome. In the martial world of Shi Hao Kingdom, he had yet to find an opponent who could satisfy him. So he joined the army. He had initially been somewhat connected to the Crown Prince, but that bookish Crown Prince didn't know a good thing when he saw it. He gave him an empty military post and never gave him any real benefits. So he simply switched to Han Jingxin's camp, planning to fish in troubled waters and snag the title of a great general. Especially since Mister Zeng's talk of "a man who can slay ten thousand on the battlefield" really appealed to him.
In the martial world, even massacring a whole family, how many could you kill?
On the battlefield, thousands or tens of thousands of people were mixed together. When the killing fever took hold, you could even accidentally kill your own men!
As the fierce, short martial grandmaster flicked his toes and soared away.
Han Jingxin said to the man holding the long lance, "General Xu, please go and support Hu Han. Don't let him capsize in the gutter. After all, he's a mountain cultivator. We need to be careful."
The burly military officer, not wearing any armor, nodded lightly. He squeezed his horse's flanks and slowly rode forward.
Since leaving the capital, this young general, who came from the border, had not brought his iron armor, only the ancestral long lance in his hand.
He didn't like Prince Han Jingxin's actions, but he didn't detest them either. Han Jingxin, though cruel, addicted to lechery, and fond of indiscriminate killing, was actually not stupid. On the other hand, that Crown Prince, full of scholarly air, was a good man. In peaceful times, he would be a good emperor for the people of Shi Hao. But in chaotic times, he was destined to achieve little. And these were chaotic times—not just the chaos of a few kingdoms, but the chaos of the entire Bottle Gourd Continent. At this juncture, he naturally had to choose the best branch to perch on, even if that branch had long since grown crooked.
After Hu Han and General Xu, two trusted attendants, had left one after another, Han Jingxin had actually already lost interest in the battlefield over there. He continued to chat idly with the nearby Mister Zeng.
They talked about the chaotic situation in the central part of Bottle Gourd Continent.
Han Jingxin spoke randomly, without any structure.
But that Mister Zeng didn't show the slightest hint of contempt.
As that short, monkey-like man soared from his horse, he didn't pounce directly. Instead, he landed lightly on the snowy ground and walked casually towards the three riders.
Ma Duyi couldn't help but feel nervous. She whispered, "He's coming."
After all, this was a powerful attendant by a prince's side, apparently a martial grandmaster skilled in close-quarters combat. For a qi refiner below the Earth Immortal level, if such a rabid pure martial artist got close, he would tear off a layer of skin. This was common knowledge among mountain cultivators and the martial world below. No matter how much Ma Duyi believed in the Mister Chen beside her, she was still uneasy. Zeng Ye didn't even dare to breathe. As for Mister Chen, he had only heard about the various deeds and feats that had happened in the Calligraphy Ink Lake area; he had never seen them with his own eyes. The tall youth, who had been occasionally brushing the snow off his shoulders, was now drenched in hot sweat, feeling none of the wind and snow's chill.
Chen Ping'an dismounted, shook off a few snowflakes from his shoulders, and rolled up his sleeves.
He walked towards that martial grandmaster, undefeated in the martial world of Shi Hao Kingdom, at the same slow pace.
There was no sense of tension, like two old friends from the martial world meeting again after a long separation.
Ma Duyi could only hate that her soul was unstable. The fox-fur talisman was both her refuge and a form of restraint. She had been a Cavern Dwelling realm cultivator when alive...
But thinking that her Cavern Dwelling cultivation seemed useless in helping Mister Chen tonight made Ma Duyi feel a bit dejected.
A woman's heart is indeed as winding as a river.
Zeng Ye asked timidly, "Miss Ma, Mister Chen will be fine, right?"
Ma Duyi turned to look at the simple, tall youth and said impatiently, "Do you want him to be in trouble? So you can turn the tide?"
Zeng Ye was speechless, choked.
The swordsman around forty years old seemed to be moved. While observing the movements ahead, he said slowly, "The Da Li barbarians have stretched their front too long. If Zhu Ying Dynasty can grit its teeth and hold out for another year, stopping the enemy at the border, successfully blocking the two cavalry corps of Da Li's Su Gaoshan and Cao Ping, preventing them from breaking through into the interior in one go, then this war can still be fought. The Da Li Iron Cavalry has been too smooth for too long. From now on, changes could happen at any moment, day or night. Whether Zhu Ying Dynasty can win this war doesn't actually depend on itself, but on how long the several vassal states can hold out. If they can grind down all the sharpness of Su Gaoshan's and Cao Ping's great armies, then Da Li can only plunder heavily around the vassal states of Zhu Ying and then withdraw north on its own."
Han Jingxin joked, "If I didn't know Mister Zeng's background clearly, I would suspect you were a lobbyist from Zhu Ying Dynasty."
The middle-aged swordsman smiled bitterly. "I am just a swordsman who knows some inferior sword-controlling techniques, a mere martial artist. I am the kind of pure martial artist that mountain sword cultivators look down upon the most. When I was young and first traveled to Zhu Ying Dynasty, I didn't even dare to carry my sword out the door. Thinking back now, considering this a great humiliation, I should want the Zhu Ying Dynasty to be trampled into pieces by Da Li's horse hooves, not encourage Your Highness to go and lie low in Zhu Ying's capital for a few years until the situation becomes clear, then return to Shi Hao to restore the kingdom. If not for the Empress's trust in me, I would still be struggling to find a meal somewhere."
Han Jingxin suddenly said something completely off-topic. "It's said that the Da Li National Teacher's plans never miss, but including our Shi Hao, the several vassals of Zhu Ying are all putting up stubborn resistance. It seems Da Li's spies have failed miserably in infiltrating our vassal states. In our Shi Hao, there's only the Huang clan of the border army, and that's only because they saw an opportunity, unwilling to remain a local emperor eating sand and smelling horse manure on the border. They wanted to gamble big, so they took the initiative to pull my Virtuous Prince brother along to defect to Su Gaoshan."
The middle-aged swordsman shook his head and smiled. "There is no one in the world who never makes a wrong move. There is only accurate judgment of the general trend, and every step conforming to the principle of assessing the situation—that is the true way."
Han Jingxin said with a look of sincere admiration, "Mister Zeng's insight is brilliant."
The middle-aged swordsman suddenly frowned, staring intently at the battlefield about forty paces away, on the verge of erupting.
Hu Han and that young cultivator in a green cotton robe had each stopped.
Behind Hu Han, that cavalryman, General Xu by surname, holding his long lance, had also halted his horse.
Han Jingxin said doubtfully, "Is that young man looking for death? Instead of retreating, using his immortal techniques to entangle Hu Han, and then unleashing a few of his high-killing-power natal objects, he's actually advancing? Is he trying to back down? Offering up that fox-fur beauty with both hands? It seems the bones of those immortal lords on the mountain aren't much heavier than us mortals below. Facing such a master, that beauty ghost has truly met the wrong person. Isn't that exactly the kind of thing a scoundrel and heartbreaker like me would do?"
The middle-aged swordsman didn't echo Han Jingxin's final "witty" remark. His expression turned a bit more serious. "Something is very wrong everywhere. This person is indeed a cultivator. He has the aura of spiritual qi flowing through a small and a large world. Either his cultivation is too shallow, only at the lower five realms, so the spiritual qi flows dimly and sluggishly, or he is hiding it deeply, reaching the level of a Viewing Ocean realm or even a Dragon Gate realm cultivator, so even I cannot see through him. If he is an unexpected pure martial artist, with boxing intent reaching the realm of natural perfection, and I have been observing the subtle signs of his walking after dismounting—his pace is fairly steady, but the unique 'meaning' of a martial artist... it's loose and slack, as if he is an outsider who has never had a good master to guide him. But regardless of these two possibilities, I can determine one thing: that young man absolutely has no intention of settling this peacefully with us."
Han Jingxin brought his hands together and rubbed the jade pendant in his palm. He smiled and said, "Could he be a fool who's not afraid of tigers because he's never seen one? Used to throwing his weight around in the mountains or around his sect, and hasn't recognized Hu Han's fearsomeness?"
The middle-aged swordsman shook his head. "Doesn't seem like it."
This Mister Zeng quickly changed his statement, shaking his head again. "No."
Han Jingxin, bored out of his mind, kept exhaling large clouds of white mist. "Let's stop guessing. Whether that guy is a horse or a mule, once Hu Han throws a punch, we'll know."
Han Jingxin lowered his voice and chuckled, "If Hu Han really hits a hard nail, it's not a bad thing either. My two rewards might make Hu Han truly appreciate them a bit. That's quite hard to achieve."
The middle-aged swordsman was speechless for a moment, then nodded lightly.
Some of the prince's comments revealed a disposition that others had to acknowledge.
This prince, who had not yet gone to his fief, was able to control the unruly Hu Han and the proud General Xu, and it wasn't just by relying on his status.
Watching someone carry a load, you only feel the strain when it's your own burden. Han Jingxin was in the mood to watch the excitement. General Xu, holding his lance, was inwardly calm.
Only Hu Han was in the thick of it. From the start, he had been rubbing his hands together, eager. The closer he got to that young man, compared to Mister Zeng watching from afar, Hu Han had a more direct feeling.
Until they both stopped, only about five paces apart.
Hu Han actually felt a hint of danger, but the smile on his face didn't change. He glanced at the bamboo saber and ancient sword hanging from the other's waist. "Kid, you wouldn't happen to be a pure martial artist too, would you?"
The young man in the green cotton robe nodded. "What a coincidence, wouldn't you say?"
Hu Han said with a smirk, "Coincidence? Of course! Since we're both from the martial world, I guess I have to talk about martial brotherhood. Let's make a deal. You and the boy can leave, just leave that fox-fur female ghost behind. How about it?"
Chen Ping'an smiled and said nothing.
Hu Han shifted his gaze, once again examining the depth of the footprints in the snow behind Chen Ping'an.
Ordinary people couldn't tell the difference, but as a seventh-tier martial artist, Hu Han had good eyesight. He looked closely. The young man's footprints, from dismounting to walking here, were of uneven depth, some high, some low.
Chen Ping'an smiled slightly. "Stop looking. You can't see the truth. When I went on my second journey, traveling alone on an immortal ferry boat, I had already learned how to hide the depth of my steps and the rhythm of my breathing. 'One must not have the heart to harm others, but must always guard against being harmed by others.' As I practiced my boxing more and more, it became second nature. Maybe sometimes I don't even notice it myself."
Hu Han was taken aback. He clicked his tongue. "Little brother, so you're a master too!"
Chen Ping'an neither confirmed nor denied. "You are a Golden Body realm martial artist? But your foundation is terribly laid, like it's made of paper."
Hu Han chuckled. "Little brother, words like that hurt feelings. I might get upset and pull your tongue out by the roots."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "My fault. For the past half year, I've dealt mainly with the dead. I got used to chatting a bit more. In the past, when I faced an enemy, I wasn't like this."
Hu Han said in sudden understanding, "No wonder. No matter. As a senior in the martial world, I'm just the opposite. I like to chat with people..."
"And kill them at the same time!"
The snow beneath Hu Han's feet exploded in all directions.
He threw a punch at Chen Ping'an's abdomen.
Chen Ping'an, with his sleeves rolled up, kept one hand behind his back. With his other hand, he gently pressed against the incoming fist. The moment their hands touched, he used the momentum to glide backward four or five steps.
Hu Han's punch missed. He followed closely like a shadow, throwing punches like rainbows.
The wind and snow on either side of the short man were swept away by the surging, abundant fist force.
Chen Ping'an used his elbow to block Hu Han's punch, sliding back a few more steps. Two more steps back, and he would be at his horse.
Hu Han felt he had roughly gauged the true foundation of this mysterious young man. He was about to stop holding back and go for a clean kill, when the young man's elbow not only blocked his fist but also suddenly exploded with a fierce force like a dam breaking. Startled, Hu Han quickly suppressed the pure true qi in his body and retreated a few steps. Even in retreat, as a Golden Body realm martial grandmaster, he moved with fluid grace, showing no signs of weakness.
After stopping, Hu Han looked at him with wide eyes. "Good heavens! You're a good actor. You even fooled me once!"
It seemed that the young man's imposing fist force was meant to fight to the death. In reality, it was like a dragonfly skimming the water, touching lightly before stopping. It was like a child lifting a heavy iron hammer with all his strength, then letting it fall to the ground. But just an inch before hitting the ground, the hammer stopped moving, suspended in midair. The key was that the child seemed to struggle greatly lifting the hammer, but when holding it was effortless.
Perhaps if Hu Han hadn't retreated but instead pressed closer, he might have punched through the man's chest.
But Hu Han knew in his heart that the more likely possibility was that the other side had a follow-up move waiting for him, like the young man's hand hidden behind his back.
The other party's control over his own fist force was so masterful. Even if his realm wasn't high, he must have had a master help him temper his body, or he had truly experienced countless deadly battles.
Chen Ping'an shook his wrist. "Don't mention that martial madman. Even though your realm is higher, in actual martial arts attainment, you're still inferior to a smiling guy I met early on. He was probably the same type of pure martial artist as you—not enough fist intent, compensating with technique."
Hu Han's expression darkened.
It wasn't that this number one martial artist of Shi Hao Kingdom was already afraid after just one exchange. That was absolutely impossible.
Rather, it was the young man's hand behind his back, and the saber and sword at his waist, that made him uneasy.
This was a martial grandmaster's instinct honed on the brink of life and death.
That was the most troublesome thing.
As for "terrible foundation, like paper Golden Body realm" and "not enough fist intent, compensating with technique," Hu Han didn't take them seriously.
"As long as the palm and the mind respond accordingly, you can release and retract freely. Practicing boxing also requires cultivating the mind, no less important than for those seeking the Dao. Beneath the fist intent is the fist frame, and after the fist frame comes the technique of striking. If a Golden Body realm martial artist like you were thrown into a certain place, you wouldn't last more than a few days. You'd just become the best whetstone for the martial artists there."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "Alright, enough small talk. I know your depth."
Hu Han also put one hand behind his back and curled a finger with the other, grinning. "Fair's fair. This time, you attack first. Save me from the accusation of bullying a junior and lacking the bearing of an elder."
As long as it was close combat, Hu Han, nicknamed "The Blacksmith," stood to gain no matter what.
Only parents give wrong names; the martial world never gives wrong nicknames.
Hearing Chen Ping'an's words "palm and mind respond accordingly, release and retract freely," Ma Duyi almost laughed out loud.
At first, she thought it was random nonsense Mister Chen was spouting. But then Ma Duyi's expression turned serious. Could it be that his knowledge and fist intent truly communicated and verified each other?
If it were anyone else, Ma Duyi wouldn't have had such a strange thought. But when it came to Chen Ping'an, she felt that one in ten thousand chances, when it landed on Chen Ping'an, would become that one.
For example, who else would sit like that in the house at the entrance of Green Gorge Island? And who else would actually leave Calligraphy Ink Lake and go on this journey?
Chen Ping'an took a step forward.
Still light and casual, not showing any grandmaster demeanor.
Compared to Hu Han, whose every punch shook the air and shattered the surrounding snowflakes, it was a world of difference.
Hu Han began to realize something.
This unfathomable young man in front of him was definitely seriously injured. So every time he attacked, he was like an accountant doing small business, calculating every tiny bit of profit.
As for the boldness of a pure martial artist, there was none of it!
Murderous intent filled Hu Han's chest. He completely let loose.
In an instant, Hu Han's nerves tightened. Intuition told him he shouldn't let that man throw a punch at him. But martial arts common sense and worldly experience told Hu Han that in close combat, as long as he stopped holding back, the other party would only have one outcome: death.
A moment of distraction.
A punch had already arrived.
After taking the punch, Hu Han laughed heartily. "A mosquito bite from a little girl, is that all..."
Then Hu Han couldn't laugh anymore.
One punch came, and then another.
The force cascaded like a waterfall plunging three thousand feet.
Hu Han just parried the punches one after another. Their figures flickered unpredictably, and the wind and snow on the road surged wildly.
Even if it was a paper Golden Body realm, it was still a Golden Body realm that dominated an entire kingdom's martial world!
After seven or eight punches, Hu Han was sweating slightly.
After eleven punches, Hu Han was drenched in sweat, and blood was seeping from the corner of his mouth.
And that young man, whose punches came faster and faster, showed no signs of his qi weakening or stopping.
The extremely frustrated Hu Han, a seventh-tier martial artist, simply gave up the idea of counterattacking. He let pure qi circulate through his meridians, protecting his key acupoints, and allowed the young man to continue throwing punches. Fist intent could be sustained, but a martial artist's single breath of pure true qi would eventually be exhausted. That would be the best time for Hu Han to deliver a punch.
But Hu Han heard the distant Mister Zeng bellow from behind, "General Xu! Quickly help Hu Han break his fist intent!"
General Xu frowned, but without any hesitation, he spurred his horse forward.
He was said to be the number one horseman in Shi Hao Kingdom. On horseback, holding his lance, his combat power was exceptional, not an ordinary martial artist.
The reason Hu Han was willing to ride alongside him and chat and laugh was, of course, this fundamental reason. Everything was determined by true ability.
As for the nickname "Lance-Wielding Poet," which spread throughout Shi Hao's court and countryside, it originated from the first time this man entered the palace to see the emperor. He was granted special permission to bring his lance into the imperial palace. Then, in front of all the civil and military officials, at the end of that day's court session, the Emperor ordered a wild, untamed horse to be brought. He was to ride the horse, holding his lance, and on a long stone slab, use the tip of the lance to write a famous rhapsody by a great scholar of Shi Hao. And he had to do it without stopping the horse. If he failed, his ancestral lance would be taken away, and he would be expelled from the border army. If he succeeded, he would be richly rewarded: a fourth-rank military honor!
In the end, he became famous overnight across the entire kingdom.
He lowered the lance gently, knelt, and kowtowed at the base of the steps, thanking the Emperor profusely.
At that time, the young general was trembling all over, his voice choked with emotion.
Everyone thought this auspicious young warrior was so grateful he couldn't control himself.
The Emperor was overjoyed and personally bestowed upon him the title "Lance-Wielding Poet."
But over the years, he had always been indignant about this, considering it the greatest humiliation of his life!
His ancestors, for four generations, had passed down a single lance stained with the blood of countless enemies, from father to son. When it reached his hands, it had been reduced to something no different from a woman embroidering with a needle!
He, Xu Mao, came from a line of martyrs. His ancestors had died generously on the battlefield, without any applause or cheers. How could he, Xu Mao, be a clown who sought attention!
One man, one horse, one lance charging into battle—there was an overwhelming momentum, like mountains crumbling and the earth splitting.
Although Chen Ping'an and Hu Han's figures were intertwined, the tip of Xu Mao's lance aimed precisely at Chen Ping'an's neck after he threw his twelfth punch.
Chen Ping'an no longer forced the next punch, the Divine Drummer Style.
All of this was expected.
It would be either the cavalry general's lance or the middle-aged man's longsword.
Chen Ping'an simply struck a palm, sending the temporarily unscathed Hu Han staggering, perfectly blocking the tip of the charging general's lance, while he himself sidestepped a few steps.
Xu Mao twisted his wrist slightly, narrowly missing piercing Hu Han like a candied hawthorn, the lance's tip whistling through the air under his armpit.
Chen Ping'an stomped heavily on the ground.
Within a radius of seven or eight zhang around Chen Ping'an, the snow instantly flew into the air.
Xu Mao closed his eyes almost instantly.
He opened his eyes abruptly, raised his lance high, and thrust forward.
The lance dipped.
A green figure stepped onto the lance, slid down it, and delivered a knee strike that sent Xu Mao flying off his horse.
But Xu Mao held onto the lance tightly, not letting go. He vomited a mouthful of blood, stood up, and found that the man was standing on his horse's back, not pressing the attack.
Xu Mao then looked at Hu Han, who had distanced himself from the battlefield, and roared angrily, "Hu Han! I saved you from a tight spot, and you stand by and do nothing? Are you deliberately trying to harm me?!"
Chen Ping'an didn't look at Xu Mao. Instead, he looked further away at Han Jingxin and the middle-aged swordsman, and said with a smile, "I advise you not to count on him. A paper Golden Body realm who has already been scared out of his wits is unreliable."
Han Jingxin's expression turned serious. Xu Mao and Hu Han had both been defeated? Two one-on-one duels, both lost to the opponent. That wasn't the scary part. What was scary was that the young man had hit the nail on the head. Xu Mao and Hu Han had already developed a rift. If Hu Han had indeed lost his martial courage, how could this fight continue? Would they have to rely on this Mister Zeng beside him? Hu Han was actually more reliable than Xu Mao, but Han Jingxin had his own calculations. He would rather Mister Zeng either settle the matter with one decisive blow, killing the man, or not fight at all. He should just stick close to protect him.
If Mister Zeng didn't act, no matter how bad the situation got, there was still room for recovery. But if Mister Zeng acted and lost, would he then have to apologize to the man? And would that man even give him a chance to mend relations?
It was said that some stubborn mountain cultivators, when they got vicious, would truly disown even their own relatives for the sake of their Great Dao.
Mister Zeng said softly, "Your Highness, if I don't act, morale will collapse, and we'll be at their mercy. If I act, there is a chance to join forces with Hu Han and Xu Mao to surround and kill this man. But there's a prerequisite: I cannot lose in one move."
Han Jingxin forced a smile. "Mister Zeng is joking."
Xu Mao retreated into the cavalry formation, switched to another warhorse, his face filled with anger and resentment.
Hu Han also wanted to return, but just as he was about to move, the young man turned to look at him.
Hu Han, seemingly truly frightened, stayed where he was, looking dejected.
Chen Ping'an felt that neither Hu Han nor Xu Mao were that simple.
But the situation was delicate. Everyone was hiding their abilities, unwilling to exert themselves.
It seemed that the morale of this cavalry unit under Han Jingxin was quite interesting.
The middle-aged swordsman, who had almost never drawn his sword, slowly rode out.
Two riders, about thirty paces apart.
Chen Ping'an, still standing on his horse's back, asked, "Sir, you are not a sword cultivator, but a sword master?"
The middle-aged swordsman shook his head. "I am far from worthy of being called 'sir.' My surname is Zeng. I'm just a wanderer in the martial world. I go wherever there's a meal."
The man smiled. "I may have to abandon martial brotherhood from now on."
Chen Ping'an kept one hand behind his back and spread the other. "As you wish."
The man looked at Hu Han. "I implore you and General Xu to temporarily set aside our differences and cooperate sincerely to kill this enemy together."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Since Senior Zeng is also a pure martial artist, you should have seen it clearly. This Golden Body realm martial artist of yours is quite the standout. A true martial artist relies on a single breath to forcibly elevate his own state of mind. Facing an enemy even one realm higher, he shows no fear. Live or die, it's a fight to the finish. But he? Not only is his foundation poor, but he also lacks that breath. He likes to lower his own level to fight. The martial world of your Shi Hao Kingdom is truly interesting. If, by some chance, this man happens to be the top dog of Shi Hao's martial world, I suspect that as long as he lives, he will drag down the entire Shi Hao martial world."
The corner of Xu Mao's mouth curled up.
It seemed he agreed.
But that didn't stop him from holding his lance and slowly entering the field again.
Hu Han seemed thoughtful.
Unexpectedly, Chen Ping'an turned his head and said, "Figured it out? Too bad you can't do it."
Hu Han stretched his neck. "Oh? That's not necessarily true."
Hu Han's aura completely changed, as if only now was he the real Hu Han, the number one man who made the heroes of the Shi Hao martial world bow.
Hu Han said loudly, "Mister Zeng, General Xu, I'll strike first. You just need to coordinate!"
Chen Ping'an paid no attention to Hu Han's words. He was blind to Xu Mao's entry into the field with his lance.
Amidst the boundless wind and snow, Chen Ping'an's gaze was fixed solely on the middle-aged swordsman carrying a sword on his back, the spear in his hand aiming precisely at Chen Ping'an's neck as he threw his twelfth punch.
Chen Ping'an no longer persisted in the next Divine Hammer Strike.
This was all as expected.
Either the cavalry general's lance would arrive, or the middle-aged man's longsword would.
Chen Ping'an simply slapped Hu Han, who was not yet critically injured, sending him stumbling, just blocking the tip of the charging general's lance, while he himself sidestepped.
Xu Mao twisted his wrist slightly. The lance, which was about to skewer Hu Han like a candied fruit, barely missed under his armpit.
Chen Ping'an stomped heavily on the ground.
Within a radius of seven or eight zhang around Chen Ping'an, snow instantly flew into the air.
Xu Mao almost immediately closed his eyes.
Then he opened them wide, raised his lance high, and thrust.
The lance dipped slightly.
A cyan figure stepped onto the lance, slid down it, and with a knee strike, sent Xu Mao flying off his horse.
Xu Mao, however, held onto the lance tightly, refusing to let go. Spitting out a mouthful of blood, he stood up and found the man standing on his horse's back, not pursuing his advantage.
Only then did Xu Mao look at Hu Han, who had distanced himself from the battlefield. "Hu Han! I saved you from a tight spot, and you stand by? Are you deliberately trying to harm me?!"
Chen Ping'an did not look at Xu Mao. Instead, he looked at Han Jingxin and the middle-aged swordsman further away, smiling. "I advise you not to count on him. A frail Golden Body realm who has already been scared out of his wits is unreliable."
Han Jingxin's expression turned serious. Xu Mao and Hu Han had both been defeated in two separate engagements? That wasn't the frightening part. What was frightening was that the young man had hit the nail on the head. If Hu Han had indeed lost his martial artist's will, how could this fight continue? Would they have to rely solely on this Mister Zeng beside him? Hu Han was actually more reliable than Xu Mao, but Han Jingxin had his own calculations. He would rather Mister Zeng not act unless he could deliver a decisive blow. If Mister Zeng didn't act, no matter how bad the situation got, there was still room to maneuver. But once Mister Zeng acted and lost, then what? Would he have to go and apologize himself? And would the other party even be willing to give him a chance to mend ties?
It was said that some stubborn mountain cultivators, when they got vicious, would truly disown even their relatives for the sake of their Great Dao.
Mister Zeng said softly, "Your Highness, if I don't act, people's hearts will scatter, and we'll be at their mercy. If I act, there's a chance to join forces with Hu Han and Xu Mao to encircle and kill this man. But there's a prerequisite: I cannot be defeated in a single move."
Han Jingxin forced a smile. "Mister Zeng is joking."
Xu Mao retreated into the cavalry formation, changed to another warhorse, his face filled with indignation.
Hu Han also wanted to retreat, but just as he was about to move, the young man turned to look at him.
Hu Han, as if truly scared out of his wits, stayed where he was, looking downcast.
Chen Ping'an felt that neither Hu Han nor Xu Mao were that simple.
But with the situation so delicate, everyone was hiding their true abilities, unwilling to go all out.
It seemed that the morale of this cavalry unit under Han Jingxin was worth pondering.
The middle-aged swordsman, who had almost never drawn his sword, slowly rode forward.
The two riders were about thirty paces apart.
Chen Ping'an, still standing on his horse's back, asked, "Sir, you are not a sword cultivator, but a sword master?"
The middle-aged swordsman shook his head. "I am far from being worthy of the title 'sir.' My surname is Zeng. I'm just a wanderer in the martial world. I go wherever there's a meal to earn."
The man smiled. "I may have to abandon decorum from now on."
Chen Ping'an kept one hand behind his back and extended the other, palm open. "As you wish."
The man looked at Hu Han. "I ask you and General Xu to put aside your differences for now and cooperate sincerely to kill the enemy together."
Chen Ping'an laughed. "Since Senior Zeng is also a pure martial artist, you should have seen it. Your Golden Body realm martial artist here is quite a standout. A true martial artist relies on a single breath to elevate his state of mind, facing an enemy even one realm higher without any fear. Live or die, it's a fight. But he? His foundation is poor, and he lacks that breath. He likes to lower his own level to fight. The martial world of your Shi Hao Kingdom is truly interesting. If this man happens to be the top dog of Shi Hao's martial world, it's likely that as long as he lives, the entire Shi Hao martial world will be dragged down by him."
Xu Mao's mouth curled slightly.
It seemed he agreed.
But that didn't stop him from holding his lance and slowly entering the formation again.
Hu Han seemed thoughtful.
Unexpectedly, Chen Ping'an turned his head and said, "Figured it out? Too bad you can't do it."
Hu Han stretched his neck. "Oh? That's not necessarily true."
Hu Han's aura changed completely, as if only now was he the real Hu Han, the one who made the heroes of Shi Hao's martial world bow.
Hu Han said loudly, "Mister Zeng, General Xu, I'll strike first. You just need to coordinate!"
Chen Ping'an ignored Hu Han's words and turned a blind eye to Xu Mao's lance-wielding charge.
Amidst the vast wind and snow, Chen Ping'an's gaze was fixed solely on the middle-aged swordsman with the sword on his back.
Without seeing the man move, the sword on his back flew out of its sheath, soared into the sky, and disappeared without a trace in an instant.
This was a sword master's signature skill: the art of controlling the sword.
It was also the main reason mountain sword cultivators scoffed at mountain sword masters.
Chen Ping'an's left hand pressed the hilt of the large imitation Quhuang ancient sword. "What a coincidence. I am also a swordsman."
With his thumb, he slowly pushed the sword an inch out of its sheath.
A posture like a mountain.
It was already impossible to tell whether it was fist intent or sword intent.
Xu Mao couldn't help but narrow his eyes, finding it somewhat dazzling.
But Xu Mao was the first to strike.
His warhorse galloped, lance thrust forward.
Hu Han was not far behind, dashing towards Chen Ping'an.
The middle-aged swordsman smiled freely.
The ancient sword with the white jade mushroom hilt remained utterly invisible.
Chen Ping'an took a large step forward on the horse's back, then stepped into the void, his figure disappearing without a trace.
Hu Han just happened to leap over the horse's back, landing on the road opposite.
The next moment, the cyan figure appeared beside Xu Mao, leaning into him with a shoulder, sending him and his horse flying sideways.
Xu Mao left his horse in mid-air and landed steadily, but the poor beast crashed heavily into the snow over ten zhang away, dying on the spot.
But an even stranger thing happened. Just like when Chen Ping'an had mysteriously vanished, the middle-aged swordsman also disappeared into thin air, equally silently.
Not only that, but he also abandoned his scabbard, which fell from his horse and stuck sideways into the snow.
Chen Ping'an stood on the horse's back, frowning, saying nothing.
He gently pushed the large imitation Quhuang back into its scabbard.
He looked down at the empty scabbard.
From that fleeting glimpse earlier, Hu Han and Xu Mao, who had been focused on him, probably hadn't noticed: the scabbard was real, but what was hidden inside was not a long sword. It was more like a straight saber.
Chen Ping'an sighed helplessly and muttered, "Don't tell me I've really stumbled upon a creditor of blades."
The scabbard was left behind.
The man was gone, and the straight saber was presumably taken with him.
Everything was strange.
Earlier, that "Mister Zeng" had said the same about Chen Ping'an. Now it was a case of tit for tat.
For things he couldn't understand, he would put them aside for now and first finish what he could.
For example, Chen Ping'an used his sword-controlling art to pull the scabbard from the snow. With a flick of his sleeve,
the scabbard shot out like a flying sword, disappearing in a flash.
It pierced through the neck of the Shi Hao prince.
After confirming that there were no life-saving talismans or similar immortal techniques, Chen Ping'an stopped looking at the corpse that slumped off the horse.
Chen Ping'an turned around, his gaze shifting between Xu Mao and Hu Han.
Xu Mao stood motionless, gripping his lance tightly.
Hu Han had already bolted away.
Chen Ping'an gave chase.
The figures of the two disappeared from sight one after the other.
All the elite cavalrymen looked at each other in dismay.
They waited for Xu Mao to give orders.
Since the sky had fallen, someone tall had to hold it up.
About half an incense stick of time later.
A cyan figure could be seen returning, carrying something in his hand.
Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye were already going crazy.
It turned out that shortly after Chen Ping'an left, Xu Mao, as if possessed, had first gathered the few leading elite prince's guards, then suddenly attacked and killed them. After that, he went on a killing spree, slaughtering all forty-plus cavalrymen one by one. Finally, he crouched down, cut off Prince Han Jingxin's head with his saber, and hung it from his waist. He picked three warhorses, mounted one, and kept the other two as spare mounts for long-distance travel, so as not to exhaust the horses.
Xu Mao did not leave just yet.
Instead, he sat quietly on his horse, waiting for Chen Ping'an to return.
Chen Ping'an approached Xu Mao and tossed the head of Hu Han in his hand to the general on horseback. "What's the story?"
Xu Mao caught the head and hung it from his saddle. He said with a smile, "You've probably guessed already. A Shi Hao prince is dead. As the one who failed to protect him, I'm a dead man walking anyway. What else can I do but defect to Su Gaoshan of Da Li?"
Chen Ping'an was not surprised.
Xu Mao asked, "Not going to kill me?"
Chen Ping'an shook his head. "You've already cleaned up the mess for me. Why would I kill you? Just to ask for trouble?"
Xu Mao looked at the young man, whose face was still pale, and smiled. "I hope we never meet again."
Chen Ping'an nodded. "That would be best."
Xu Mao turned his horse and rode away into the wind and snow.
Chen Ping'an crouched down, scooped up a handful of snow, and used it to wipe his face.
All around were the bodies on the ground, and the warhorses that lingered, gently nudging their fallen masters.
He released his hands, and the snow, stained with blood, scattered to the ground.
As Ma Duyi and Zeng Ye hurried over on horseback, about to speak, Chen Ping'an waved his hand, signaling them to wait.
He jumped onto the back of one of the horses and looked in a direction, one slightly different from Xu Mao's path.
A moment later, Chen Ping'an finally sat up on the horse and wiped the blood that suddenly flowed from his ears and nose.
After killing Hu Han, he had taken the secret herbal paste from the Yang Family Shop. He felt no pain all over, but hiding his miserable state was still troublesome.
Otherwise, a villain like Xu Mao might have turned back for a fatal blow.
In fact, Xu Mao had indeed considered it.
But after Chen Ping'an noticed, he decisively gave up and rode far away.
Killing Xu Mao would not have been difficult, but after killing him, Chen Ping'an would have had to clean up the mess himself. Heading north from here would have been plagued by constant trouble.
The reason Chen Ping'an had not used his two flying swords or taken out that semi-immortal weapon the entire time, aside from being a pure martial artist, was that killing a member of the royal family—even an emperor—by a martial artist did not violate mountain rules. Martial artists were not mountain people. Qi refiners were, and among qi refiners, sword cultivators were especially so. Another reason was that Chen Ping'an wanted to have a good fight with someone. This inspiration came from that night stay at the Spirit Officer Temple, from the Yin Being General Wei.
But it didn't seem to have worked very well.
Ma Duyi understood the deeper meaning of Chen Ping'an's actions better than Zeng Ye.
She had never felt so horrified.
How was this any different from the schemes in Calligraphy Ink Lake?
Chen Ping'an said hoarsely, "We can't stay here long. We need to get at least a hundred li away and find a hidden place to shelter from the wind and snow."
The three riders continued on their way.
Chen Ping'an had no choice but to put on the dharma robe Golden Nectar directly over his cotton robe to hide his pitiful state.
Xu Mao was already far away, but this Shi Hao general, about to defect to the Da Li Iron Cavalry, suddenly reined in his horse. "Mister Zeng?"
That middle-aged "swordsman" indeed emerged from the wind and snow in the distance and came to Xu Mao's side, smiling. "General Xu, you can return the lance passed down from your ancestors to me. I trust that among the heirlooms of your Xu family, passed down by word of mouth, there is a phrase that you have struggled to understand all these years. But if it's okay with you, I'd like to borrow a horse from you. Then you can keep this lance engraved with the words 'Wind and Snow.' Someday, even if I don't come to collect it myself, someone will naturally seek out Xu Mao, the Da Li Patrol Envoy. How about it?"
Xu Mao nodded, his eyes burning with passion. "Deal!"
The man took a horse and gradually rode into the distance.
This man, whose identity, sword, name, and background all seemed to be false, led his horse away. As if sensing something, he smiled faintly and murmured, "Heart has nothing to chase, body has nothing to bind. Why then this stifling qi in my chest, unable to be unbound?"
He turned to look in Chen Ping'an's direction. "What a pity that the quota is limited. I can't do business with you. Truly a pity. Otherwise, it would have been a very good deal, much better than earning a Da Li Patrol Envoy."
The speed of the three riders varied, sometimes fast, sometimes slow.
It all depended on Chen Ping'an's injuries.
But in Ma Duyi's eyes, although Mister Chen was seriously injured, his state of mind seemed unchanged.
Chen Ping'an suddenly asked, "Have you ever heard the phrase, 'In winter, the dense snow falls, like the sound of shattering jade'?"
Ma Duyi nodded. "I've heard it."
Chen Ping'an hummed. "Well-educated indeed. Living up to such a good name."
Ma Duyi suppressed a smile. "I just heard it."
Chen Ping'an was stunned for a moment, then smiled. "This joke is like this wind and snow."
Ma Duyi was a little puzzled.
She began to ponder the deeper meaning of his words.
Zeng Ye spoke up dully, "Mister Chen means that your joke, Miss Ma, is quite biting, like the cold wind."
Ma Duyi looked at Chen Ping'an with suspicion.
Chen Ping'an chuckled. "You believe what Zeng Ye says?"
Ma Duyi thought about it, and it made sense, so she shot a glare at Zeng Ye.
Zeng Ye felt wronged.
Ma Duyi hesitated for a long time but still didn't dare to speak.
Chen Ping'an said, "You want to ask if I should gather the souls of those cavalrymen?"
Ma Duyi felt a little guilty. "I think it's completely unnecessary, but..."
Chen Ping'an smiled. "But you think I'm a muddle-headed person who likes to do roundabout things, right?"
If something can be spoken, it means it's not weighing on the mind.
That's a good thing.
Ma Duyi was in a much better mood and started to smile.
Chen Ping'an said, "Actually, as long as you grasp the beginning and end, even if the situation is a tangled mess, there's nothing to fear. Just take it slow."
Ma Duyi's stubborn streak flared up again. "Then why did Mister Chen say we should ride a hundred li away quickly? Why not take it slow?"
Chen Ping'an poured out a pill from the Water Palace's secret stash, took a sip of wine, and swallowed it together. He looked somewhat helpless but didn't argue.
Ma Duyi laughed to herself.
Zeng Ye shook his head. Women, sigh.
The three riders galloped on through the wind and snow.