Autumn had only just arrived, yet the heat remained fierce. At noon, the most scorching hour of the day, the blazing white sun left people dizzy and disoriented. Everyone who could had retreated indoors to rest and escape the heat, while those unfortunate enough to be out had no choice but to seek whatever shade they could find.

“Yan Yingzhou! Hand over the Xuanzun command token!”

At the foot of Xuan Mountain in the western reaches of Baiguo, a thunderous roar tore through the dense forest — a rough and grating sound so unpleasant that even someone sleeping soundly in those woods would surely have been jolted awake.

Deep within the trees, several dozen men formed a tight encirclement. Among them were armored soldiers, scholars in robes, men dressed as merchants, and others who looked like farmers — their clothing varied, their expressions all different, yet every one of them shared one thing in common: the blade or sword in their hand pointed directly at the person trapped in the center of their ring.

At the center of that ring stood a black-robed man of roughly twenty-seven or twenty-eight years. He gripped a three-foot blade of green steel, standing tall and straight, his expression cold and stern as he regarded the crowd. His body bore wounds in numerous places, and the blood flowing from those injuries had already soaked the grass beneath his feet crimson.

Yet most of the surrounding men had their eyes fixed not on him, but on the bundle strapped to his back.

“Yan Yingzhou — leave that bundle behind, and I will spare your life!” The man who appeared to be a general, clad in battle armor, raised his broadsword and leveled it at the black-robed man — Yan Yingzhou.

A faint smile crossed the face of the man called Yan Yingzhou, carrying a cold and cutting contempt. “I have long heard that General Zeng of Huaguo slaughters every city he breaks for three days running, leaving countless wrongful dead beneath his spear. Has he truly become so especially merciful toward me today?”

General Zeng flushed at the barb, on the verge of protest — but the man was simply telling the truth, and there was nothing to be said.

Beside him, a blue-robed scholar snapped open a folding fan with practiced elegance. “Yan Yingzhou, there is no escaping today alive. Be sensible — hand over the Xuanzun command token, and we may at least allow you a quicker death.”

“I am well aware there is no escaping death today — but Gong Wudu, the poison in your fan killed twenty of my generals. Even in death, I will take your worthless life with me.” Yan Yingzhou raised his green blade and pointed it directly at Gong Wudu. The light in his eyes was colder and sharper than the sword in his hand.

Gong Wudu had taken countless lives by his fan — yet facing that gaze, he felt an involuntary chill run through him.

Those surrounding them tightened their grip on their weapons and stood on full alert. The four generals known as Wind, Frost, Snow, and Rain of Huangguo were names that shook the world — and Yan Yingzhou, the Fierce Wind General and foremost of the four, possessed martial arts beyond compare. In the battle of Qingcheng alone, he had killed three hundred enemies single-handedly.

“Yan Yingzhou, your martial arts may be unrivaled beneath heaven, but today you are already wounded, and we far outnumber you. The outcome is already clear.” The man dressed as a farmer drew his blade from its scabbard. “What need is there to fear him, everyone? We charge together — cut Yan Yingzhou down, take a piece of the credit, and go back to claim our reward from our respective lords!”

“Well said, Hero Lin! Cut down Yan Yingzhou, and the Xuanzun command token is ours!” The man dressed as a merchant uncoiled the soft whip at his waist, swung his arm, and the long whip shot forward with the speed of lightning — aimed not at the man, but directly at the bundle on Yan Yingzhou’s back.

“Forward, everyone! This is no time for notions of chivalry!” General Zeng swept his broadsword in a great arc aimed straight at Yan Yingzhou’s chest.

“Go!” The rest of the men moved in unison, weapons thrusting from every direction toward Yan Yingzhou in the center.

Yet despite his wounds, Yan Yingzhou remained swift and agile. He shifted his body slightly to one side, raised his left arm, and caught the whip coiling toward his back in his hand. He then spun sharply, yanking the merchant-dressed man forward to serve as a shield against General Zeng’s thrusting spear. In the same motion, his right hand swung the green steel blade across to deflect the swords and blades slashing in from the side. He channeled his force into his arm and barked, “Away!” The weapons striking against his blade shuddered in unison; the hands gripping them felt a searing pain at the base of the thumb, nearly losing their hold. With no choice, those men withdrew their weapons and stepped back a pace, barely avoiding the humiliation of being disarmed.

All of this Yan Yingzhou completed in the span of a single breath, each movement clean and decisive.

“Kill him!”

Before Yan Yingzhou could draw breath, a young white-robed general of about twenty-three or twenty-four who had been standing outside the ring all along raised his hand. Five guards standing behind him leapt forward in unison, pressing toward Yan Yingzhou. Before they even reached him, the fierce gust of their blade wind was already enough to sting the skin — a testament to the depth of their skill.

“We go in too!” Gong Wudu snapped his folding fan shut and lunged into the ring; the others who had been hanging back also charged forward, weapons raised, bearing down on Yan Yingzhou from all directions. Only the white-robed young general remained outside, his gaze locked on the center without blinking.

Surrounded by more than ten men striking from every side, Yan Yingzhou’s blade whirled and flashed with blinding arcs of silver light, thrusting toward every enemy in turn. Wherever the blade reached, someone cried out in agony, and a spray of blood followed.

Watching the chaos of the fighting inside the ring, the white-robed young general gave an almost imperceptible nod — yet the light in his eyes grew sharper still.

“Aiyah — aiyah—”

“Damn you, Yan Yingzhou! You want to die that badly?!”

Cries of pain and furious cursing rang out from within the ring. Those of lesser martial skill had already fallen in number, and the ground had turned a slick crimson. Yan Yingzhou knew full well that death was inevitable today, and so he fought with pure offense and no defense whatsoever — a style that spent his life recklessly. But his body was already injured, and fighting so desperately only tore his wounds wider; blood poured freely, leaving red wherever his feet stepped. He was growing steadily weaker, struggling to keep up with the onslaught, and before long several new wounds had been added to his body.

“Yan Yingzhou! Your life ends here!”

With a sharp cry, Gong Wudu seized his moment. His iron fan drove straight like a blade toward Yan Yingzhou’s chest. Yan Yingzhou shifted his body slightly to one side as if to dodge — but he was just a fraction too slow. The iron fan pierced into his side beneath the ribs.

Gong Wudu felt a surge of dark satisfaction — then suddenly a searing pain erupted in his chest. He looked down to find Yan Yingzhou’s green steel blade buried to the hilt in his heart.

“I told you I would take your worthless life.” Yan Yingzhou ground the words through clenched teeth. He had deliberately taken Gong Wudu’s strike to ensure he could kill him.

“You—”

Gong Wudu had barely formed the first word when Yan Yingzhou wrenched the blade free. A spray of blood drenched him, and Gong Wudu’s eyes rolled back as he collapsed.

Yan Yingzhou pulled his blade free and swung it behind him in the same instant — but he was a step too late. A searing pain ripped through his left shoulder as General Zeng’s broadsword drove deep into him from behind. Blood surged like a river, and his entire body had become a man painted in red.

“A strike from behind! And you call yourself a general of a nation!” Yan Yingzhou sucked in a sharp breath and fixed him with a furious glare.

“Ha! Who here is playing the noble gentleman?!” General Zeng offered a cold and entirely unembarrassed snort. His broadsword still lodged deep in Yan Yingzhou’s body, he looked down at his enemy — now gravely wounded and at his mercy — and felt a surge of satisfaction. His left hand reached out to take the bundle from his shoulder. “You might as well just—ah—!”

The words died in his throat. A flash of green light. General Zeng let out a horrific scream and crumpled to the ground unconscious — both his hands had been severed cleanly at the wrists.

With his right hand reversed, Yan Yingzhou yanked the broadsword buried in his back free and tossed it carelessly to the ground. The sword landed with General Zeng’s severed hands still upon it. Everyone who saw it went cold, and the weapons in every surrounding hand froze in place as they all instinctively stepped back a pace.

And then Yan Yingzhou’s strength finally gave out. He sank to one knee on the ground — yet even so, he kept his sword planted beneath him to hold himself upright, and raised his eyes to sweep the circle of enemies surrounding him. A pair of eyes blazed with a blood-hungry light, fierce and merciless, and every person in that circle was so crushed by his presence that not one dared move.

At last, Yan Yingzhou slowly drew breath and forced himself back to his feet, blade in hand. Those around him unconsciously retreated another step.

“Come then! To meet the heroes of all six nations in one day — this is a rare fortune that graces a man but once in three lifetimes. With such fine company on the road to the underworld, I shall not be lonely!”

Yan Yingzhou looked at the pale faces surrounding him, and a scornful, cold smile rose to his lips. He raised his blade and pointed it straight ahead — and the man standing directly in his path, Hero Lin, actually took a step backward, his throat working visibly as he looked at Yan Yingzhou with barely concealed fear.

*Clap. Clap. Clap.*

In the midst of this standoff, the sound of unhurried applause suddenly rang through the forest. Every person turned toward the source — Yan Yingzhou included.

Standing three zhang beyond the edge of the ring was a white-robed young general. It was he who was clapping. As every head turned toward him, he stopped, and his gaze went directly to Yan Yingzhou.

“Yan Yingzhou — you are truly a hero of remarkable caliber. Rather than dying at the hands of these incompetent men, let me be the one to bring honor to your name. Receive my Chuanyun Silver Spear!”

The moment the words left his mouth, his body was already airborne. Silver spear in hand, he shot toward Yan Yingzhou like a beam of white light breaking through ten thousand li of cloud — swift and magnificent, carrying with it an incomparable ferocity.

Yan Yingzhou stood absolutely still in place, his right hand gripping his sword hilt with all his strength, waiting for the silver spear. He could not dodge it — and there was no dodging it. All he could do was stand and wait for the spear to pierce his heart. But he would ensure — he would ensure — that his sword pierced his enemy’s heart first.

The silver spear blazed with light, an instant from driving into Yan Yingzhou’s body — and then, without warning, a white flash tore through the air. It was too fast for any eye to follow. And then the silver spear struck nothing. Yan Yingzhou was gone.

The change came so suddenly that for one full moment, every person in that clearing could only stand and stare blankly. The white-robed young general remained exactly as he had been, silver spear extended straight before him as though buried in an enemy — yet in truth he had struck nothing at all. His eyes fixed on the tip of his spear, as though unable to believe that his full-force thrust had missed entirely, and that he did not even know who had intervened or where they had gone.

“Ha ha… ha ha…”

While everyone stood there dazed, a string of laughter — clear as silver bells — suddenly rang out through the stifling, blood-scented forest. In that instant, every person felt as though a cool and gentle breeze had swept lightly past them; the smell of blood thinned, and the faintest trace of a clean and subtle fragrance seemed to reach the tips of their noses. It was as though icy spring water had poured softly through them — the oppressive heat receding, the whole body seemingly submerged in cool and crystalline water, a wave of refreshing chill rising from the very depths of the heart.

“How amusing! I wake from a nap, and all at once I get to see this many dumbstruck bears!”

A clear and bright voice rang out. Everyone turned toward the sound, and three zhang beyond the ring, perched on a branch high in a tall tree, sat a young woman dressed entirely in white. Her long black hair hung straight down, and at her forehead a string of black pearls secured a crescent-shaped jade ornament of pure white. Her face was strikingly handsome, the corner of her mouth carrying a faint and languid smile, her eyes half-open and half-closed with the drowsy ease of someone who had only just been pulled from sleep.

“Who are you?” Hero Lin called out.

“Hero Lin Yin’an of Nanguo — how bold you are now, stepping forward and speaking up. And yet a moment ago, when Yan Yingzhou’s sword was pointed at you, did you not retreat a step?” The white-clothed woman answered his question with one of her own, then flicked her wrist, and something flew up into her hand.

Only now did everyone see clearly: what she held in her grasp was Yan Yingzhou himself, who appeared to have lost consciousness. A long white silk ribbon was wound around his waist — it had clearly been this woman who had used that ribbon to snatch him away.

“You—” Lin Yin’an’s face flushed red with shame and embarrassment.

“Tsk tsk. This Yan Yingzhou may be a hero of remarkable caliber, yet you lot of bears have reduced him to barely half a life. Truly a pity.” The white-clothed woman held Yan Yingzhou up with one hand and examined him with unhurried attention, shaking her head the whole while in sympathetic lament. A man of well over a hundred jin dangled in her grip as lightly as if she were holding a sleeping infant.

“You brazen woman — tired of living?!” A rough and grating voice rang out as a large and powerfully built man shoved through the crowd, face flushed and neck bulging as he bellowed. They were all figures of considerable renown across the six nations — to be dismissed with a single phrase as “bears” was not something any of them could bear.

“You foul-mouthed—mmph—”

The man had barely opened his mouth again when a flash of green light passed, followed by a sharp crack, and a single leaf sealed his mouth shut, tight and complete.

“Your voice is genuinely unpleasant to listen to, and I have no interest in hearing it.” The white-clothed woman set Yan Yingzhou casually aside on a branch and waved a dismissive hand. “Furthermore, the smell coming from your mouth is truly foul — so it is better that you keep it closed.”

A stifled laugh escaped someone nearby, quickly swallowed back at the sight of the large man’s ferocious expression.

The large man’s face turned the color of pork liver. He tore the leaf from his mouth, his lips and teeth stinging with a burning numbness, his heart a churning mixture of shock and fury — but he truly did not dare open his mouth again. This white-clothed woman had sealed his mouth with a single casually thrown leaf, which meant her skill had reached the level of using petals and leaves as lethal weapons at will — and he had not even seen her move. The gap between them was already clear. Had she not shown restraint, he might already be keeping Gong Wudu company. Since he was no match, speaking again would only invite humiliation upon himself. Better to wait and see how things developed.

“Miss, the people gathered here today are none of them without a name. Your martial arts may be formidable, but two fists cannot defeat four hands — so why involve yourself in matters that are not your concern? You would do better to go your own way and spare everyone present some goodwill. Green waters and verdant mountains await, and we shall surely meet again.” The man dressed as a merchant offered the words in a pleasant and reasoned tone.

“He Xun — the He boss truly has a merchant’s touch. A few sentences spoken so reasonably and so pleasantly that it would be hard not to be moved. No wonder your ‘Tianxun Escort Bureau’ does such flourishing business.” The white-clothed woman gave He Xun an easy nod.

He Xun allowed himself a small inward breath of relief. Having walked the martial world his entire life, he could read a person’s worth with a glance — eight or nine times out of ten he was right. This white-clothed woman stood before this many people and still conversed with smiling ease, and from what little he had seen of her in action, she was clearly no ordinary figure. Better not to court unnecessary trouble. Besides, what truly mattered here was the Xuanzun command token.

“However—” just as those assembled allowed themselves to relax, the white-clothed woman’s voice stretched out with an unhurried turn.

“However what?” He Xun kept his tone pleasant, though his heart lurched back up into his chest.

“As long as you compensate me for my losses, I will naturally take my leave.” The white-clothed woman smiled with unhurried ease.

“That is simple enough. How much does the young lady have in mind?” He Xun smiled inwardly — so she was after money after all.

“What I require is truly very little.” The white-clothed woman extended a single slender finger.

“One hundred silver leaves?” He Xun asked.

The white-clothed woman shook her head.

“One thousand silver leaves?” He Xun tried again.

The white-clothed woman shook her head again.

“Surely the young lady does not want ten thousand silver leaves?” He Xun drew in a sharp breath — that was an enormous sum to demand.

“No, no.” The white-clothed woman shook her head once more with an air of gentle resignation.

“Then what does the young lady—” He Xun no longer had any idea what figure she could possibly have in mind — surely not a million silver leaves?

“He boss — you are truly a man of business. Can you think of nothing beyond gold and silver?” The white-clothed woman idly wound and unwound her white ribbon in her hands, and with each motion, the hearts of the people watching drew tight and then loose again.

“Please, young lady — speak plainly.”

“Aih…” The white-clothed woman heaved a long and mournful sigh, as though genuinely regretful that He Xun had failed to grasp her meaning. “What happened is that I was in the middle of an afternoon nap, deep in the finest of dreams, when you all came and woke me. Now, one dream being interrupted is not such a terrible thing — would you not agree, He boss?”

He Xun gave a nod, his eyes trained on this person with her face full of smiles, entirely unsure what she was about to say.

“The problem is that this particular dream was one that comes along only once in a thousand years!” The white-clothed woman suddenly dropped her smile entirely and spoke with the utmost gravity. “Do you have any idea — I was dreaming that the Queen Mother of the West had invited me to the Kunlun Immortal Mountains, where I was tasting jade nectar and divine wine, watching the dances of celestial maidens — truly a pleasure without compare. And at the very end, she presented me with a peach from the Pool of Immortality. Just as I was about to take it into my hands, you all came crashing in and shattered my beautiful dream, and I never managed to accept it. Now tell me — is this not a serious matter, He boss?!”

“What?! You brazen woman — are you making fools of us?!” Lin Yin’an could hold back no longer and erupted in furious curses.

“Tsk tsk…” The white-clothed woman turned her gaze to Lin Yin’an and shook her head with an amused smile touching her lips. “When have I ever made fools of you? I am completely earnest, I assure you. You must understand — a peach from the Pool of Immortality is no ordinary fruit. Eat it and one gains eternal life and ascends to the ranks of the immortals. How many people spend their entire lives dreaming of such a thing? Yet because of you, I failed to eat it — and the scale of that loss is truly immense. Naturally you must compensate me.”

“Does the young lady expect us to compensate her with a peach from the Pool of Immortality?” He Xun’s expression shifted, his earlier pleasantness draining away into something cold and faintly sinister.

“Naturally!” The white-clothed woman flicked her wrist, and the white ribbon swept through the air in the shape of a peach. “The moment you produce a peach from the Pool of Immortality, I will leave at once. Yan Yingzhou, the Xuanzun command token — none of it will be any concern of mine.”

“It seems the young lady has decided to meddle in this affair after all.” He Xun’s expression went fully cold, and both his hands quietly closed around a hidden weapon at his side. “Then allow me one final word of advice: every person gathered here today is a hero of the six nations. By involving yourself, young lady, you make enemies of all six nations at once. The world is vast, but there may be no place left in it where you can hide.”

“The heroes of all six nations gathered in one place — what an honor!” The white-clothed woman’s smile remained full and untroubled by the words. “Only I have always been poor at recognizing men of greatness — I truly cannot make out where any of you here are heroic.”

He Xun had expected that even if the woman’s martial arts were formidable, this declaration would at least give her some pause. Instead she looked genuinely entertained, not the slightest bit inclined to take the heroes of the six nations seriously, and had turned the words into a mocking jab.

“May I ask — are you the heroic Wind, the woman of that name?” The white-robed young general, who had been silent ever since the white-clothed woman appeared, suddenly spoke.

“Oh? You know me?” The white-clothed woman shifted her gaze to him, which was as much as an acknowledgment that she was the “heroic Wind” he had named.

The white-robed young general lowered his silver spear and gave her a respectful and formal bow. “‘Suyi Xueyue’ — Bai Fengxi — her name is known to all beneath heaven. Certainly to one such as myself.”

At these words, a visible tremor ran through everyone present. He Xun in particular found himself deeply grateful that the hidden weapon in his hand had not been released — because if it had… that handful of poison sand would certainly have come flying back into himself.

Everyone in the martial world knew that the two most celebrated names of the present age were Fengxi and Fengxi — their names sounding identical, and easy to confuse. The martial world had therefore come to distinguish them by their clothing, calling one Bai Fengxi — the White — and the other Hei Fengxi — the Black — and together they were known as Baifeng Heixi. They had made their names nearly ten years ago and were considered the foremost masters of the age. Most had imagined them to be middle-aged or older — yet Bai Fengxi turned out to be this young a woman.

“Heh — you need not be so formal with me. If your compensation does not satisfy me, this white ribbon of mine may very well end up around your neck.” Fengxi sat on the branch, her two legs swinging lazily to and fro, her long hair swaying gently with each movement behind her. “And you, holding a silver spear — you must be General Ren Chuanyun, the Chuanyun General of Fengguo.”

“That is Chuanyun.” The white-robed general Ren Chuanyun replied with the same respectful courtesy and then asked: “Does Wind Heroine also have an interest in the Xuanzun command token?”

“I have no interest in the Xuanzun command token.” Fengxi shook her head. “Only this Yan Yingzhou is very much to my taste, and it would be a true waste to let him die here — so I would like to take him with me.” Her tone was utterly light and offhand, as though taking Yan Yingzhou away were as simple as picking up a wildflower from the roadside. The heroes of six nations appeared to be as nothing to her.

“Nonsense! You claim it’s for Yan Yingzhou, but isn’t it really for the Xuanzun command token on his body? That kind of excuse might fool a three-year-old child, but spare us the performance!” A large man with a face full of thick whiskers could not hold himself back and bellowed the accusation aloud.

Every person here had come for the Xuanzun command token. Some wanted it for themselves; some had been hired with heavy gold; some were carrying out the commands of their respective lords. “He who holds the token commands the realm” — what a tantalizing prospect. Even if one could not personally command all beneath heaven, which king of the six nations did not dream of being the master of ten thousand li of territory? All a person had to do was gift or sell the token to any one of those kings, and wealth and status would come pouring in.

“What a foul mouth.”

Fengxi’s words were mild and unhurried. Then a green flash — straight toward the bearded man. He saw the leaf coming and instinctively tried to dodge, but before he could move, it had already snapped against his mouth with a crisp crack. At once his lips and teeth erupted in a burning, stinging pain so intense it made him want to cry out for his father and mother — yet he could make no sound whatsoever.

“My young master desires the Xuanzun command token very much. I wonder whether Wind Heroine would permit me to retrieve it from Yan Yingzhou?” Ren Chuanyun took no notice of any of this and addressed the question to Fengxi directly.

“The Xuanzun command token? Does Young Master Lanxi wish to become master of all beneath heaven?” Fengxi tilted her head with a half-smile, then continued before he could answer: “Only this Xuanzun command token is something Yan Yingzhou staked his life to protect. I think it is better left in his keeping.”

“So Wind Heroine will not consent to Chuanyun taking it?” Ren Chuanyun’s eyes narrowed fractionally, and his grip on the silver spear tightened.

“Oh? You intend to take it by force?”

Fengxi’s gaze swept toward Ren Chuanyun with apparent unconcern. No visible movement came from her — yet the white ribbon in her hand seemed to take on a life of its own, rising and dancing through the air like a white dragon whipping its body furiously across the sky. In that instant, everyone felt an overwhelming and domineering force roll over them like mountains and seas collapsing at once, encircling them within an invisible ring and rendering them unable to move. They instinctively channeled their inner energy to resist — but with each sweep of the white dragon, the force intensified by another measure. Those of lesser cultivation were already breaking into large drops of sweat at their brows; some stared wide-eyed with faces flushed crimson; others clenched their jaws and endured with everything they had. Every one of them understood — if that force pressed them down, the lucky ones would lose half their lives, and the unlucky ones would lose all of it.

Ren Chuanyun planted his silver spear firmly before him with the tip angled upward toward the ribbon’s head, his eyes locked unblinking on the white silk, every last thread of his inner energy concentrated into both arms as he resisted with full strength. But the pressure only mounted, the tightness in his chest growing with each moment; the tip of his spear trembled unceasingly, the bones of his spear-gripping hands numb with pain, his legs shaking beneath him, beginning to buckle, on the verge of folding to the ground—

Then all at once, every person felt the weight lift from their bodies. The breath that had been trapped in their chests finally rushed free — followed immediately by a wave of total exhaustion flooding through their limbs, a hollow drained sensation so overwhelming they wanted nothing more than to collapse where they stood and sleep.

The moment the pressure released, Ren Chuanyun felt a sweetness rise in his throat and instinctively swallowed it back down. He already knew he had sustained an internal injury. He had never imagined that Bai Fengxi, so young, could already possess such profound inner energy — that without even truly fighting, she had dominated the entire field. The only relief was that she had ultimately shown restraint, and had not taken anyone’s life.

“I would like to take Yan Yingzhou with me. Do you all consent?” Fengxi’s voice reached them — mild and light.

No one wished it in their heart, yet they were all subdued by her martial power and did not dare open their mouths.

“Wind Heroine, please.” Ren Chuanyun steadied his breathing, withdrew his silver spear, and then waved his hand. The five men who had followed him leapt out of the ring and fell back behind him.

“Oh? You have given up on the Xuanzun command token?” Fengxi looked at him with a smile. Her eyes shone with a brightness that seemed to penetrate his very soul and see every thought within him clearly.

Ren Chuanyun smiled in return — an easy and unhurried smile. “My young master once said: if you were to encounter Bai Fengxi or Hei Fengxi, Young Master Yu Wuyuan, Young Master Huang Chao of Huangguo, or Princess Xiyun of Fengguo — regardless of who wins or loses, as long as you withdraw with your body intact, it counts as a merit.”

“Is that so?” Fengxi flicked her wrist, and the long white ribbon flew back into her sleeve. “Young Master Lanxi thinks so well of us?”

“My young master once said that only these five people are worthy of being his friends or his enemies.” Ren Chuanyun glanced at Fengxi, then smiled with a faint depth of meaning. “Should Wind Heroine ever find herself in Fengguo one day, my young master will receive you with ten li of brocade laid across the road.”

In Dong Chao, a reception of ten li of brocade was the grandest ceremony lords used when welcoming or seeing off one another. No matter how formidable her martial arts or how celebrated her name, Fengxi was still a common person — there was no way she would be entitled to such a reception from a nation’s Shizi. Ren Chuanyun’s words were plainly an extravagant form of praise.

“Ten li of brocade — I rather suspect it would turn into ten li of drawn swords.” Fengxi received his high praise with an expression that remained entirely unmoved, her manner cool and light. “And as for you — if you had not made the attempt just now, you would not be standing here wishing to ‘withdraw with your body intact.'”

At that, Ren Chuanyun’s expression shifted slightly — though it smoothed back to its natural composure almost at once. “Chuanyun has long heard my young master speak of the five as peerless masters of the age, and has always lacked the opportunity to meet any of them. Today, by good fortune, I have had the chance to meet Wind Heroine — I wished only to seek a pointer or two from you. If I have caused any offense, I hope you will forgive me.”

“Is that so?” Fengxi asked mildly, and then gave a light spring upward, landing standing atop the branch. Everyone below tensed at once, hands tightening on their weapons.

Fengxi swept a glance over the crowd, a faint smile curving the corner of her mouth. Then she looked at Ren Chuanyun. “Had you not shown even that smallest trace of respect for a true hero toward Yan Yingzhou just now — given that idea you had of sitting back to reap the spoils — I would not have merely given you a pointer or two.”

“Chuanyun is grateful to Wind Heroine for her restraint.” Ren Chuanyun bowed his head, even as his hand tightened involuntarily around his silver spear.

“Ha! With a subordinate like you, it is easy to see just how exceptional Young Master Lanxi must be. Should fate allow it one day, Fengxi would very much like to seek instruction from Young Master Lanxi in person.” Fengxi suddenly lifted Yan Yingzhou, and her body shot into the air. In an instant she had vanished from sight, her voice carrying back from somewhere far away: “I will take my leave for now. If anyone wants the Xuanzun command token — feel free to follow!”

“General — do we let it end like this?” Seeing Fengxi disappear into the distance, several of Ren Chuanyun’s subordinates turned to him.

Ren Chuanyun raised a hand to stop them. “Bai Fengxi is not someone you or I can deal with. Let us return and seek the young master’s guidance before deciding anything.”

“Yes.” The five bowed.

“We go.” Without a word to any of the others remaining, Ren Chuanyun turned and led his men away.

Once Ren Chuanyun had gone, the people still standing in the forest looked at one another, unable to settle on whether to disperse or to give chase.

In the end He Xun raised his hand and said: “Everyone — He will take his leave first. Whether the Xuanzun command token can be taken from Bai Fengxi’s hands is a matter for each of us to try on our own luck.” He turned and departed — and seeing him go, the remaining men scattered in every direction before long, like startled birds taking flight, leaving behind several corpses in the forest and the unconscious form of Zeng Fu lying on the ground, both his wrists severed.

—

Xuan Mountain, Baiguo.

The sky had barely begun to lighten — a thin sliver of a waning moon still hung upon the canopy of heaven, though it had surrendered all its radiance. In the pale gentle light of early morning, a thin mist draped Xuan Mountain’s peaks, which rose steep and straight as brush strokes. At this hour, Xuan Mountain was still and beautiful as a painting, broken only by the occasional clear and bright call of an early-rising bird.

From within a cave on the northern peak of Xuan Mountain came a very faint, muffled groan. It was the man lying inside — and after that low sound, he finally opened his eyes. He swept a glance around him, then pushed himself to sit up. But the moment he put weight on his arms, a cry of pain escaped him.

“You are awake.” A clear and slightly languid voice sounded.

The man turned toward the voice. At the mouth of the cave sat a woman, her back to him as she combed through her long black hair, facing outward. Though the light was still dim, each pass of the comb through that dark hair left behind a faint shimmer of deep blue.

“Who are you?” the man asked, only to find as he spoke that his throat was parched and raw, his voice hoarse and unpleasant.

“Yan Yingzhou, should you not show a little courtesy to the person who saved your life?” The woman at the cave mouth rose and turned, walking toward him with a wooden comb in hand, gathering a loose strand of hair at her chest and drawing the comb through it in an unhurried and absent-minded way.

“You saved me?” Yan Yingzhou asked reflexively — and then recalled Ren Chuanyun’s Chuanyun Silver Spear cleaving the sky in the moment before he had lost consciousness. Immediately, another far more important thought followed, and he reached urgently behind his back — only to find nothing. His hand instead collided with a wound, sending a sharp flare of pain through him, and it was only then that he realized his entire upper body was bare, and below he wore only a single inner garment.

“Are you looking for that?”

The woman pointed to his left. There lay a pile of shredded cloth, still stained with blood that had long since dried. Beside the cloth lay a bundle.

“Do not worry — I did not discard it, nor have I touched it.” The woman seemed to read his thoughts.

Yan Yingzhou raised his eyes to look at her — and only now did he take in her face properly. It was strikingly handsome, with a quality of effortless ease written in the brow and the eye. At her forehead she wore a crescent jade ornament of pure snow-white. She was dressed in loose and flowing plain white robes, and her long black hair was worn neither pinned nor coiled into any style — it simply hung straight down her back. Her whole bearing carried an indescribable sense of freedom and transcendence.

“Bai Fengxi?” Yan Yingzhou said, his eyes resting on the snow-jade crescent ornament at her forehead.

“Not Hei Fengxi.” Fengxi smiled easily, then continued: “Are all four generals of Huangguo — Wind, Frost, Snow, and Rain — as fearless of death as you? Last night I counted — setting aside the old scars, you have thirty-eight fresh wounds on your body. Not only did you not die, but you woke after only a single night of unconsciousness and appear to be in rather good condition. An ordinary person would be dead at the worst — or at the very least unconscious for three to five days.”

“You counted my scars?” Yan Yingzhou stared at her with a peculiar expression, his thoughts going immediately to his current state of dress — or lack thereof.

“I did — every inch of you, I counted.” Fengxi took another step closer, tucked away the comb in her hand, and watched the expression on his face with obvious amusement. “You must understand — you had sustained so many external wounds that I needed to stanch the bleeding and apply medicine, which naturally meant seeing those scars. I counted them while I was at it, that is all. And as for your clothes — they were already nothing but shredded rags, so I took the liberty of removing them, to avoid them getting in the way while I treated your wounds.”

Before she even finished speaking, Yan Yingzhou felt a rush of heat surge upward through his body, his face blazing hot and red.

“Oh! Why is your face so red? Do you have a fever?” Fengxi looked at him and gave a sudden exclamation, then reached out and pressed her hand against his forehead.

The moment those cool fingers touched his brow, Yan Yingzhou recoiled as though startled. “Do not touch me!”

“Why not?” Fengxi tilted her head and asked — then looked at him with an expression of mischievous calculation. “So it is not a fever — you are blushing? And blushing because you are embarrassed? And embarrassed because I have seen and touched every part of you? Hmm?”

At those words, every drop of blood in Yan Yingzhou’s body seemed to rush into his face at once. He stared at Fengxi’s brilliantly smiling face for a long moment before erupting in indignant fury: “Are you or are you not a woman?!”

“Ha ha!” Fengxi burst into open and uninhibited laughter — nothing of the gentleness or quiet composure a woman was supposed to carry, yet the laugh was entirely natural and wholly at ease.

“Of course I am a woman. But you have certainly never encountered a woman like me before — am I right?” Fengxi said, finally letting the laughter subside.

“If all the women in the world were like you—” Yan Yingzhou started to speak but suddenly stopped himself. He was a man of few words by nature, and Fengxi had saved his life — he could hardly bring himself to say something unkind.

“If they were all like me — what then?” Fengxi looked at him with eyes brimming with laughter, her face carrying a note of playful curiosity. “Actually, I rarely encounter men like you either. And what loss is it to you, really, that I saw you and touched you? It is not as though I was trying to look at you — I was saving your life, in case you had forgotten.”

The flush that had only just begun to fade from Yan Yingzhou’s face came rushing back.

“Ah — there you go, blushing again!” Fengxi exclaimed as though she had just discovered something delightful. “Could it be — could it possibly be — that no woman has ever seen you or touched you before? Oh, you’re going even redder! I’ve actually guessed correctly! Truly unbelievable — you are the celebrated Fierce Wind General, your name has been known for years, and you must be nearly thirty by now. And yet you have truly never been with a woman? Now that is a wonder of the world!”

“Is this what Bai Fengxi is actually like?” Yan Yingzhou’s face had gone as red as the morning sky, and after a long, strangled silence he finally forced the words out with barely suppressed resentment.

“Yes — this is exactly what I am like.” Fengxi nodded, then leaned toward him. “Does that disappoint you?”

The moment she moved closer, Yan Yingzhou sat up and scrambled backward — only to have the motion pull at every wound across his entire body.

“Aiyah!” An involuntary cry of pain tore from him.

Several of his wounds had split back open and begun to bleed anew.

“Stop moving!” Fengxi’s hand shot out and held him firmly in place. No matter how he strained to pull away, he could not budge. “I used up every last bit of medicine I had on my person stanching your blood — and now look, it has opened again. What a waste.”

Her gaze swept over his body and paused on his side beneath the ribs. Where Gong Wudu’s iron fan had struck him, a deep wound remained — and the blood now seeping from it was black.

“Gong Wudu’s fan carried poison. Last night I drew out a good portion of the poisoned blood for you, but it seems the poison has not yet been fully cleared. And neither of us has any antidote — what are we to do about this?” Fengxi frowned at the black blood on his wound.

“You drew out the poisoned blood for me?” Yan Yingzhou went blank again at the words, his eyes dropping automatically to her vivid red lips — and suddenly the wound in his side felt as though it were burning with fire.

“If I had not drawn out the poison, you would likely have died last night.” Fengxi seemed oblivious to his expression. She turned and walked to the cave entrance, returning with a water skin and several wild fruits in hand. “You must be hungry too — eat a few of these to keep you going. I will go down the mountain and find you some medicine, and get you a change of clothes while I am at it.”

Fengxi passed him the water and the fruit, then added: “The people from yesterday will not give up on the Xuanzun command token so easily — they are certainly still searching this mountain. Do not wander anywhere. If they come, hide first. I will find you when I return.”

With that, she turned and left. Yan Yingzhou watched her retreating figure, and then suddenly called out before he could stop himself: “Wait!”

Fengxi stopped and turned back. “What is it?”

“You — you — I — hmm — this—” Yan Yingzhou hemmed and stumbled for a long moment but still could not bring the words out, his face growing redder and redder.

“You want to thank me? To tell me to be careful?” Fengxi guessed, watching the state he was in with barely contained amusement. “Yan Yingzhou, how did you ever become the Fierce Wind General with a disposition this awkward? Look — I saved your life, and I have seen every inch of your body. Are you thinking you should take responsibility for my sake? That you ought to offer yourself in marriage to repay the debt of your life?”

“You—!” Yan Yingzhou stared at Fengxi, and still could not find a single word of rebuttal.

He had made a name for himself young. By nature he had always been quiet and reserved, serious and proper. In Huangguo he was foremost among the four generals, trusted and valued enormously by the Shizi, respected deeply by his peers, and obeyed without question by his subordinates. Never in his life had he encountered a woman who spoke and behaved with such total and absolute disregard for all propriety.

“Ha ha — the great and celebrated Fierce Wind General — truly, endlessly entertaining!” Fengxi laughed aloud again, laughing so hard she could barely stand straight. “Are all four generals — Wind, Frost, Snow, and Rain — as entertaining as you? I really must visit Huangguo for a trip someday!”

Still laughing, she turned and walked toward the cave entrance. At the threshold she turned back once more and looked at him — and the smile on her face was more dazzling and radiant than the sunrise just now breaking beyond the cave’s mouth. Against that backdrop of morning light, it left Yan Yingzhou momentarily stunned, the world tilting around him.

“Yan Yingzhou — one last thing I should tell you: despite all your scars, your figure is really quite something to look at! Ha ha—!”

And with that she departed, her laughter trailing behind her, leaving Yan Yingzhou alone in the cave — face burning scarlet, wishing desperately that he could dig a hole in the ground and disappear into it.