Chapter 870: They’re Here

On opposite banks of the river stood three of the Four Great Swordsmen of the age.

But after that single word—“out”... the very phrase “Four Great Swordsmen” was probably about to become something of the past.

Years ago, busybodies of the jianghu had also dragged Zheng Fan out and forcibly grouped him together with the Barbarian Young Prince, Grand General Nian, and Imperial Son-in-Law Zhong as the “Four Rising Generals.”

But after Prince Pingxi rose... nobody bothered mentioning that title anymore.

Grand General Nian had been captured and taken into the Yan imperial palace.

The Barbarian Young Prince had become a fugitive after the Royal Court was destroyed.

Zhong Tianlang was still alive and kicking.

Yet as one of the only two men who still remained standing in that old comparison, he inevitably kept getting dragged out beside Prince Pingxi.

And then... things became awkward.

Both were imperial sons-in-law.

But Zhong Tianlang’s marriage had been bestowed by the Emperor of Qian.

Prince Pingxi had personally stolen his Princess.

Zhong Tianlang was heir to what had once been Qian’s foremost military household.

Prince Pingxi had risen from among the common people.

Within the Qian army in Liang, Meng Gong served as supreme commander.

Zhong Tianlang was only one route commander, even if the troops beneath him happened to include Qian’s sole organized cavalry corps.

Prince Pingxi, meanwhile, had long since reached the point of independently commanding wars between states.

However you compared them...

Zhong Tianlang came out shorter by an entire head.

Among swordsmen... the principle was the same.

Once the gap grew large enough... the men involved no longer belonged in the same sentence.

Perhaps once they had all stood together atop the wave of one age.

Then, without anyone noticing... one man had already gone ahead.

The others had run a little slower... and fallen far behind.

The Swordsmith and Baili Sword said nothing further.

A war of words had lost all meaning now.

Whether in the jianghu, the court, or on the battlefield... the essence remained the same.

The bigger fist was right.

Still, the Swordsmith and Baili Sword did not obey the Sword Saint’s order to “get the hell out.”

The two looked at one another.

Then sat down.

Baili Sword picked up a roasted fish he had thrown onto the dead leaves earlier and took a bite.

It had gone cold.

Cold fish carried a much stronger stink.

“Ai.”

Baili Sword set the fish down.

Then picked it back up.

Then put it down again.

Finally, he simply tossed it beside himself and ignored it.

The heaven-blessed genius of the Baili Clan was not accustomed to this kind of helplessness.

He had practiced the sword from childhood.

His talent was astonishing.

His progress on the Sword Dao had advanced by leaps and bounds.

That did not mean he had never lost.

Everyone grew one step at a time.

Everyone had periods of weakness.

Even in the previous exchange, the Sword Saint had seized a flaw and beaten him once.

But when the Sword Saint manifested those “four swords”...

Baili Sword felt a different kind of helplessness.

One that had already surpassed simple victory and defeat.

Nobody could remain eternally immortal and transcendent in bearing.

Usually, when someone appeared that way... either he was very good at acting... or you were simply standing far too low beneath him.

Baili Sword sat there using these surprisingly small, almost childish gestures to bleed away the frustration in his heart.

The Swordsmith beside him remained quietly seated.

He seemed far less concerned with empty reputation.

Which made sense.

A man who possessed extraordinary ability yet could still endure loneliness and keep his swords hidden all these years... could hardly care that much about superficial fame.

Across the river... the Sword Saint recalled Longyuan and dispersed the three blood-red sword intents.

Then he sat cross-legged.

Without concealment or embarrassment, he openly began meditating and regulating his breathing.

The earlier display really had exhausted him.

Once he sat... he remained there until dawn.

“Father, hungry?”

Liu Dahu had slept for a while during the night.

With his father sitting right in front of him, he genuinely could sleep.

That had little to do with whether his father was the Sword Saint.

For a very long period of Liu Dahu’s life, his father had been nothing more than a sickly city-wall soldier in the boy’s eyes.

The Sword Saint nodded.

“Hungry. Thirsty too.”

“Then why didn’t you wake me?”

“You were tired too.”

“Heh-heh.”

Liu Dahu began gathering dead branches from nearby.

He used the fire striker originally carried for lighting the Prince’s cigarettes and started a fire.

Then he removed his helmet, went to the riverbank, and carefully washed it clean.

He scooped half a helmet of water, placed it over the fire, and boiled it.

Once the water bubbled, he carefully poured it into his waterskin, added some tea leaves, and handed it to his father.

“Father, it’s hot.”

“Mm.”

The Sword Saint took the skin and drank a small sip.

Then...

Liu Dahu used the helmet to boil more water.

He poured some roasted flour from the grain pouch at his waist into it, making the mixture deliberately thick.

Then he added brown sugar, salt, and pepper.

Afterward, he kneaded the mixture together by hand until it formed dense clumps.

He was Prince Pingxi’s personal guard.

On campaign, he also served the commander’s tent.

Naturally, his person carried far more odds and ends than an ordinary soldier.

Liu Dahu handed the thick doughy clumps to the Sword Saint.

Father and son sat together and began eating.

Across the river...

Baili Sword and the Swordsmith had also remained seated the entire night.

Baili Xianglan used her sword to catch several more fish from the river, relit the fire, and began roasting them.

Before long... the fragrance of roasted fish drifted all the way to the opposite bank.

Soon... both Baili Sword and the Swordsmith had a freshly roasted fish in hand.

The Swordsmith looked at his fish and spoke with considerable difficulty.

“I say, little sister... roasted fish this early in the morning?”

Baili Xianglan replied:

“I can plant some millet now, wait for it to grow, harvest it, then grind flour for you if you prefer.”

“All right, all right. Fine. But where are the spices? Without seasoning to cover the smell, this fish is difficult to swallow. Surely there’s at least salt?”

“We prepared enough seasoning for one meal. Used it all last night. None left.”

“Tsk...”

The Swordsmith had no choice but to eat with difficulty.

By noon...

Liu Dahu tried going into the river to catch fish himself.

Unfortunately, after wasting plenty of effort, he caught nothing.

At this point, he began regretting something.

If he had known this would happen, perhaps he really should have let Chen Xianba accompany his father.

Chen Xianba was very good at catching fish.

Just then... several fish came flying across from the opposite bank.

Baili Xianglan stood there.

Then said:

“Trade for salt.”

“Oh.”

Liu Dahu was an honest child.

He took out the small pouch holding his salt, opened it... and poured some directly into the river in front of him.

“...” Baili Xianglan.

A moment later...

Liu Dahu seemed to realize exactly how stupid a thing he had just done.

He hurried back, found another empty pouch, poured some salt into it, tied it to a stone, and threw it across.

Baili Xianglan gave Liu Dahu a cold look.

Then picked up the pouch and turned away.

That afternoon... both sides roasted fish.

Liu Dahu saw the Swordsmith across the river suddenly seem to lose his mind.

The man threw down his fish, grabbed a sword... and began biting it.

Naturally, he was not actually eating the blade.

He was chewing on it as though venting frustration.

After a while, he threw the sword onto the ground.

Clearly, several consecutive meals of roasted fish had placed him in a terrible mood.

That evening... neither side cooked.

Nobody wanted fish anymore.

The next morning...

Liu Dahu boiled water again, brewed tea, and handed it to his father.

Then he used the remaining roasted flour to make another thick paste.

Father and son continued eating like this.

Baili Xianglan seemed prepared to catch fish again.

The Swordsmith immediately raised both hands and shouted.

Baili Xianglan stopped.

That entire day... apart from drinking water, the opposite bank ate nothing.

Another night passed.

In the morning...

Liu Dahu once again boiled tea for his father.

This time, after adding the leaves, he poured in all the brown sugar they had left.

Father and son passed the skin back and forth, relying on sweet tea to keep themselves going.

Across the river...

Baili Sword still sat calmly.

The Swordsmith had already lain down on his side, eyes open, half asleep and half awake.

Liu Dahu did not understand.

These men were clearly extremely powerful.

Why had they somehow ended up like this?

He did not ask his father.

Around noon... a group of seven or eight people appeared on the opposite bank.

They wore the uniforms of the Silver-Armored Guard.

Their arrival brought something besides roasted fish to the men across the river.

For example... white-flour mantou.

Apparently following instructions...

Baili Xianglan tossed a bag across.

Liu Dahu stepped forward and opened it.

Inside were eight mantou.

“Father?”

“Eat.”

The Sword Saint picked up one and took a bite immediately.

“Father, what if...”

After spending so long beside the Prince, Liu Dahu had naturally become exceptionally cautious regarding food.

The Sword Saint shook his head.

“Those men across the river fear death, yes. But they haven’t fallen that low.”

This was not womanly softness from the Sword Saint.

Nor was it blind trust.

There was genuinely no need.

Besides...

Zheng Fan was not here.

That did not mean everyone suddenly became brave enough to eat unknown food merely because Zheng Fan was absent.

It meant that if Zheng Fan were here... the mantou really might have been poisoned.

People outside the same circle possessed far fewer scruples about how they did things.

Perhaps... that was the pure relationship between people walking the same Dao.

Liu Dahu picked up a mantou and took a bite too.

After being hungry for so long, the happiness of chewing one mouthful of soft white-flour mantou was enough to make tears gather in a man’s eyes.

Even so, Liu Dahu muttered while eating:

“The mantou are too small. And there’s no filling. I want shredded radish and meat filling.”

In eastern Jin, through the almost obsessive insistence of Prince Pingxi Residence, mantou had developed into something of a local specialty.

It had begun merely because Zheng Fan’s hometown dialect in his previous life used the word differently.

Here... it had somehow become a form of cultural confidence.

Not only white-flour mantou.

Stuffed mantou too.

Mantou with shredded meat inside.

And even then... where we come from, it still only counts as mantou!

Father and son each ate two.

The rest were saved.

Liu Dahu fetched water and helped his father wash his hands.

Across the river... the Swordsmith called:

“Brother Yu! Leave!”

Several days earlier, after their duel, the Sword Saint had told them to “get out.”

They had refused.

Today the Swordsmith told the Sword Saint to leave.

The Sword Saint likewise did not answer.

Nor did he move.

After a while, the Swordsmith called again:

“Brother Yu! Does it really have to be like this? You’ve already done enough for that man. Truly.”

The Sword Saint turned to Liu Dahu.

“We ate their mantou. What should you do?”

Liu Dahu nodded.

He stood, walked to the riverbank, and shouted across:

“Thank you for the mantou, Uncles!”

The Swordsmith sighed.

Then sat down again.

By dusk... several dozen more Silver-Armored Guards had appeared on the opposite bank.

After nightfall, multiple campfires rose there.

Liu Dahu lit a fire too and toasted the remaining mantou.

Father and son split them and ate.

Another night passed.

At dawn, Liu Dahu was awakened by hoofbeats from the opposite bank.

He opened his eyes, sat up, and saw another hundred or so men arriving.

All wore Silver-Armored Guard uniforms.

Originally... the Silver-Armored Guard had simply been one of Shangjing’s Twelve Guards.

It was the name of a military force.

Later, the Son of Heaven absorbed it into his personal troops and used it increasingly as a secret-police and intelligence arm.

But fundamentally... it remained an army.

Liu Dahu began fetching and boiling water.

The tea leaves were already gone.

The Sword Saint accepted the waterskin and drank the hot water in small sips.

Then asked:

“Do you think this is boring?”

“Huh?”

Liu Dahu did not understand.

“Father, what do you mean?”

“I’m asking whether you think all this is boring.”

“Why are you suddenly asking me that?”

“Because I want to know.”

After pausing, the Sword Saint added:

“Because your father suddenly thinks it’s rather boring too.”

“Father... I originally thought I’d get to witness some earth-shaking duel between you and those two uncles.”

When Liu Dahu said this, he even smiled somewhat sheepishly.

“And? You’re disappointed?”

“No. I was thinking... maybe because I’m here, I’ve become a burden to Father.”

The Sword Saint shook his head.

“You have never been your father’s burden. Not before. Not now. And in the future... you never will be.”

“Your son is foolish. I can only help Father with these little things. Once little brother grows up, he should...”

“You are also my son, Yu Huaping’s son. In truth, your father is the same as every other father. My mouth may say certain things. But my own son... will always be the best. In one lifetime, some people can climb very high. Others may spend their entire lives wandering near the bottom. But no matter how high you climb... Heaven is still higher. So in truth, there’s no need to obsess over whether you stand high or low. Straighten your chest. Stand upright. That alone makes a man capable of holding up Heaven and Earth.”

“Your son understands.”

“Back then, you didn’t choose to practice the sword with me. Looking at things now... perhaps that was the correct choice.”

The Sword Saint looked toward the opposite bank.

“This jianghu... really has become rather boring. Especially after personally witnessing ten thousand men willingly charge to their deaths not long ago. Then looking at this scene now... Your father may not understand music, but even I know that after a tune rises that high, following it with something like this sounds terribly mismatched. But that is simply how the world is. Some people ride with iron horses and golden spears. Others spend their lives buzzing around petty calculations. There’s no need to call the latter right or wrong. It is only a personal choice. But once the great building begins to collapse... they no longer have the face to sigh over lost glory, lament the past, or mourn what used to be.”

“Father, I don’t quite understand everything you just said.”

“If your father told you to leave, would you?”

“Father, where could I go alone? This is Qian territory. I’ll stay with you.”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“If you begged those men, perhaps they wouldn’t kill you. They might let you live.”

Liu Dahu immediately replied:

“Then I’d rather die. The Prince said before that everyone must die eventually. Some deaths are heavier than the Tianduan Mountains, others lighter than a goose feather.”

“I remember when he first said that, it wasn’t called Tianduan Mountains. It was some other mountain...”

The Sword Saint thought for a while.

“Later he said that if he ever got the chance, he’d rename a mountain so the quotation would finally fit.”

“Hm?”

“Heh. Why are we talking about this? Do you know why your father has been sitting here for so many days, doing absolutely nothing except sitting?”

“I know. Father stayed here to hold back those two uncles on the other side. And you’ve also drawn Qian’s Silver-Armored Guard here. Father is using yourself as bait to protect the Prince.”

Liu Dahu only appeared “slow” when compared with Chen Xianba.

That did not mean the boy was truly stupid.

“Qian’s Silver-Armored Guard is impressive,” the Sword Saint said. “That Zheng fellow has said more than once that he needs to hurry up and develop his Brocade-Clad Guard properly. At minimum, they need to be able to compete with the Silver-Armored Guard on equal footing.”

In intelligence warfare... the Silver-Armored Guard truly was far, far more capable than Qian’s regular armies.

By comparison, Yan’s Secret Intelligence Department had been limited by the scale and time available for its development.

Then came the Du Juan affair.

Then the death of the Old Master in the palace.

The organization had never been able to mature fully.

When the Qian Emperor personally took the field this time, the Silver-Armored Guard, as his personal force, had accompanied him with more than half of its elites.

Most of those who remained behind had then been nearly wiped out during the fighting in Shangjing.

To a certain extent... when the Yan attacked Shangjing, the Silver-Armored Guard genuinely resisted until the very end.

This was Qian territory.

For Zheng Fan to escape successfully, Qian’s regular armies were not necessarily the greatest problem.

So long as he avoided being encircled and did not walk into an ambush prepared in advance, ordinary Qian forces would find it extremely difficult to swallow him.

But if an organization like the Silver-Armored Guard, specializing in tracking, searching, and intelligence gathering, assisted those armies... everything changed.

The Qian Emperor had made up his mind that Zheng Fan must die.

Naturally, the Silver-Armored Guard had been deployed.

And who would command them?

The Sword Saint’s gaze settled on the opposite bank.

Who else?

Perhaps the two men over there were the truly helpless ones.

His own hard line had left them no choice except this stalemate.

And as the stalemate dragged on... more and more Silver-Armored Guards originally committed to the search were being drawn toward this location.

Why gather them here?

The answer was obvious.

The Sword Saint had said he possessed the ability to drag both men down with him.

Then the opposite side would add manpower.

They did not need many.

A few hundred Silver-Armored Guards would be enough to change the situation.

After all... those two men were hardly useless.

With a crowd of soldiers charging fearlessly in front of them, both swordsmen would gain much more room to fight while protecting themselves.

The Sword Saint mocked himself.

“Same rotten habit as that Zheng bastard. Not enough strength? Make up the difference with bodies.”

Prince Pingxi had always been timid and afraid of death.

The Sword Saint had to live next door to his residence.

A zombie had to lie beneath the residence.

Brocade-Clad Guards had to fill the interior and exterior.

Two army formations stood outside Fengxin City.

All of that... was really there to protect him.

Years ago, when the Sword Saint was not yet beside him, Zheng Fan first realized there truly existed experts in this world powerful enough to ignore ordinary men.

His reaction had been extremely simple:

Fine.

Then I’ll pile enough people on top of you to crush you to death.

More Silver-Armored Guards continued arriving on the opposite bank.

Their number had already reached several hundred.

Baili Sword and the Swordsmith rose.

Some Silver-Armored Guards began crossing from upstream and downstream.

The river was neither wide nor deep.

On the Sword Saint’s own side of the river, figures began flickering into view as well.

Clearly, another group of Silver-Armored Guards had circled around long ago and were closing from behind.

“Brother Yu,” Baili Sword called while standing atop the river. “Tell me. Did you profit from this whole affair, or did you lose?”

The Sword Saint remained seated.

“Living your whole life calculating profit and loss sounds unbearably boring. If you’re happy... that’s enough.”

“And your son?” the Swordsmith asked.

“Dying together with my son doesn’t sound too bad either, does it?”

“Tsk-tsk. Relax. I’ll take your son,” the Swordsmith said. “We were kindred spirits of the same Dao once. Consider it the last bit of friendship I can offer.”

The Sword Saint nodded.

“Then later, I’ll try my best to choose Brother Baili as the one I drag down with me.”

Even with the Silver-Armored Guard already surrounding this place... the Sword Saint still possessed that arrogance.

Could not drag both down?

Then he would do his best to take one.

“Heh-heh.” Baili Sword laughed. “If I’d known, I should have spoken first.”

Baili Sword and the Swordsmith began walking slowly across the surface of the river.

Baili Xianglan followed behind them.

Around the perimeter... the Silver-Armored Guard’s encirclement tightened step by step.

Crossbows.

Shields.

Formations were already taking shape.

The Sword Saint reached over and stroked his son’s head.

“Do you blame your father?”

“No. Father has always treated me very well.”

“Your father never imagined back then that one day I’d willingly go this far for him. So... your grandmother was right. When someone treats you well, when you accumulate favors owed to them day after day... eventually... you really do have to repay those favors with your life. Your father has carried the empty reputation of Sword Saint all these years. But in the end, I’m not so different from those wandering jianghu swordsmen who sell their lives for a pot of wine and two plates of meat.”

“Father... do you regret it?”

“No.”

“Father, there’s something your son has never told you.”

“What?”

Liu Dahu undid the side fastening of his armor.

Then reached inside... and took out a red stone.

The Demon Child’s advancement on the Wang River had transformed him completely.

He had gone from dragging the group down to standing among the front rank.

That advancement brought changes in every direction.

One of them... was the ability to conceal his aura.

In the past, the Sword Saint could sense the Demon Child.

Now, so long as the Demon Child deliberately revealed nothing, he could hide perfectly even in front of the Sword Saint.

But the moment the Sword Saint saw that red stone... astonishment appeared on his face.

He knew perfectly well what that red stone meant to the man surnamed Zheng.

Even outside wartime... even on an ordinary trip away from home... the man never allowed it to leave his body.

It was Zheng Fan’s strongest... and final... layer of protection.

And now... it was in his son’s hand.

“The Prince forced it onto me,” Liu Dahu said somewhat nervously. “Your son... did not dare disobey the order. Father... the Prince is a very wise man. You may think you fooled him. But perhaps the Prince only pretended to be fooled.”

The Sword Saint drew a deep breath.

Baili Sword and the Swordsmith were already pressing closer step by step.

The Silver-Armored Guard formations had already closed.

Yet the Sword Saint paid them no attention.

Instead... he reached out and touched the red stone.

The stone even rolled itself over several times beneath his fingers, almost preening:

Didn’t find me, did you?

“He’s changed,” the Sword Saint said.

“Father, you mean... the Prince?”

“Do you remember that Lin-opera troupe in Chuzhou City? The performer who played Qian’s Emperor Taizu?”

“I remember.”

“She was acting. And in truth... wasn’t he acting too?”

The Sword Saint smiled.

“The difference is this: She could only act. Once she took off the costume and stepped down from the stage... she was no longer the person she played. But him... when the day comes that he no longer wants to act... he truly becomes it.”

The Sword Saint looked around.

Then sighed with feeling.

“Your father can barely carry the weight of all those tiny favors accumulated over the years. This time... he took on eight thousand debts of human life in a single breath. Heh-heh-heh...”

The Sword Saint laughed.

That sudden laugh... made the three people walking across the river stop.

It also made the surrounding Silver-Armored Guards pause.

“Good. After he has children, I’ve finally found another thing I can enjoy watching him suffer over.”

At last... the Sword Saint rose.

Longyuan entered his hand.

Liu Dahu held the red stone in his left hand.

His saber in his right.

And then... from beyond the encirclement... the tremor of hooves suddenly rolled through the earth.

Faintly... black-armored riders appeared in the distance, racing toward this place.

The red stone stood upright in Liu Dahu’s palm.

Then rocked excitedly from side to side.

“Oh? Brother Yu, are we really playing out some grand drama of deep master-servant affection now? Your Prince came to rescue you? Hahaha! Perfect. Just perf—”

The Swordsmith laughed.

And laughed.

Then... could no longer laugh.

Because black-armored riders had appeared... to the east.

To the south.

To the west.

And to the north.

Which meant... this was not the small fugitive Yan force under Prince Pingxi coming to rescue him.

The force arriving here... was the Yan main army that had broken Shangjing!

At the very front... a bare-chested giant built like a tower sprinted across the ground.

He swung an enormous axe.

His face was filled with excitement, anticipation, and joy.

And while running, he roared himself hoarse:

“Master! I’m here! I’m here!”

[End of Chapter 870]