The old madam entered the Guard Bureau, still fuming at Qiqian’er, refusing to let her help her, shaking off her hand to lean on Yiyue instead. She marched furiously into Chen Dasheng’s room with her people, and even slammed the door shut herself!

This gave Yu Qingguan and the others quite a fright!

Yu Qingguan looked at Qiqian’er in bewilderment. “What’s gotten into the old madam today? She’s — she’s actually willing to lose her temper at Young Mistress?”

Qiqian’er immediately blinked at him repeatedly and said loudly, raising her voice, “Ah! It’s nothing! Just misheard something! Brother Yu, you wouldn’t know — we’d just entered the city when we saw a crowd carrying banners and beating a huge gong, so loud it shook the heavens! I was afraid it would hurt the old madam’s ears, so I covered them. Now she’s angry at me, insisting she heard Dasheng’s name mentioned. I heard it several times myself, but that ‘Dasheng’ business was just some theater troupe announcing their show to draw in customers… The old madam misheard!”

This had already been announced three times today, so when Yu Qingguan heard this, his face changed color. Seeing Qiqian’er blinking at him, he wasn’t stupid — he immediately cleared his throat and said loudly, “Right, right! Exactly! People in this city are always making a fuss over all sorts of things! You must have misheard. Big Brother went into the palace today, attending on His Majesty! When would he have time to get mixed up in troublesome business like that? You must have misheard… It’s that, that… troupe sign…”

He looked at Qiqian’er pleadingly.

Qiqian’er silently cursed him for a fool, and quickly prompted, “Theater troupe!”

Yu Qingguan nodded hastily. “Ah, right! Theater troupe! Theater troupe! It’s just this troupe — they only just opened, didn’t we say the other day we should find time to go see them…”

The old madam suddenly burst out of the room, standing firmly in the doorway with a voice full of vigor, scolding, “You little wretches courting a lightning strike, do you take me for a fool? I’m not deaf yet! This old woman can still herd livestock — battlefield calls carry pretty far, and my ears are good! I’ve never once misheard the gong for retreat! And I heard ‘Chen Dasheng’ clear as day, and your bureau’s name too! I’m not seventy or eighty yet, don’t you try to fool me…”

She pointed at Yu Qingguan. “You, Qingguan — Granny hasn’t treated you poorly, feeding you hot meals every day, making you shoes and socks. You! Tell me the truth! Is all of Yandu talking about my Choutou? Something about the third of the third month, some public challenge posting, a duel to the death… going on and on about Chen Dasheng — I may not know what other old women know, but do I not know my own grandson’s name? Do I not know? Don’t you dare try to fool me — I know exactly which bureau my own grandson serves in! Speak up!!”

The old madam roared until the veins stood out on her neck.

Well, there was no hiding it now!

Qiqian’er felt anxious too, and seeing there was truly no more concealing it, sighed and said helplessly to Yu Qingguan, “The old madam wants to know. Just tell her.”

Yu Qingguan, afraid of frightening the old madam, edged nervously toward the door. “Nai, you just sit tight, um — I’m on night duty in the palace tonight, so, well, us brothers were just about to head out. Look at these clothes! Duty uniforms! Um, you, if you need anything, just send for Han the Mute and his wife…”

Unfortunately, he didn’t manage to escape — the old madam pounced and grabbed his ear, scolding, “Trying to run? I see you’re trying to be the death of me! Swear it to me! Swear on my old life that you’re not lying to me! Has something happened to my grandson?”

Yu Qingguan, utterly at a loss, forced a smile and explained, “Look at you, it’s not that serious! I can’t run anywhere! A’Nai, hey! Let go of me first…”

The old madam wouldn’t let go, and it was Qiqian’er who said, “Just tell her.”

With no other choice, Yu Qingguan explained everything — what the duel arena was, what the public challenge posting meant, what the red banner signified — hiding nothing.

Once he finished, he looked up anxiously at the old madam. Seeing her face gone blank, he asked carefully, “A’Nai? Are you all right? Don’t worry, Grand Attendant She is watching over him from above — he won’t let anything happen to him…”

The old madam wiped a hand across her face and said, her expression unnervingly normal, “It’s fine! What could possibly be wrong with me! The Chen family’s ancestral graves are as good as gone now — how is it we can’t build up a little virtue for our descendants? I’ve endured so much already, haven’t I! There now, your Big Brother is still breathing, isn’t he? Yes, yes… he’s still breathing! Qian’er, Qian’er? Qian’er!!”

The old madam suddenly bellowed at Qiqian’er, who had gone still with distraction. Qiqian’er startled, quickly shook off her scattered thoughts, and asked, “What is it? A’Nai?”

The old madam’s legs went weak, and she leaned against a stone pillar of the Bureau. Pointing into the room, she said, “You — you go get, get that thing of your eldest uncle’s, go, go to the palace to find His Majesty! Tell him! Tell him the Chen family has already given him eight lives, we won’t give our lives for him anymore! We want to retire and go home! My grandson’s life — I won’t give it to him! You go tell him, go beat that Drum of Grievances? Right? I’ve seen in the operas, that’s what you’re supposed to beat…”

Perhaps not trusting Qiqian’er to manage it, she gritted her teeth and started walking into the room herself, muttering as she went, “No, I’ll go beat it myself! I’m already dying anyway, I won’t drag you down with me! I’ll go myself! I’ll go fetch my eldest grandson, fetch…”

The old madam swayed a few times and then collapsed. The Guard Bureau erupted into chaos, sending someone rushing into the palace to fetch a physician — but that’s a separate matter.

By now, the sky had already darkened, and inside Dongming Hall in the palace, every lamp was lit.

His Majesty had felt the spring chill especially bitter today, and had ordered charcoal added to the braziers twice. By the end, he had even moved to sit right beside one, skipping his evening meal entirely, wearing the look of someone suppressing great fury.

Besides His Majesty, four others were present in Dongming Hall: Grand Attendant She, Chen Dasheng, Minister of War Sun Shouyi, and Jiu Si Tang’s Hall Master Meng Dichen.

Early that morning, two disciples of Pang Tu from Yuegong Mountain — Shen Fanjiang and Pei Daohai — had suddenly arrived.

Though they’d traveled a great distance, they hadn’t thrown their weight around as disciples of a Yuegong Mountain grandmaster might have done under the previous dynasty.

On the contrary, the two had approached the dueling arena quite politely, presenting their identity tokens with their names and origins, and every travel permit and seal stamp along their route was in perfect order, missing nothing.

Finally, they had formally submitted Yuegong Mountain’s official challenge notice through proper martial-world channels, following every procedure required under Jiu Si Tang’s new martial-world regulations, without skipping a single step.

At the time, the junior officers guarding Jiu Si Tang’s arena, seeing the challenge was addressed to a court official, hadn’t dared to accept it. But then the other side brought in members from Yandu’s branch lodge, who went about beating gongs and setting off firecrackers, patrolling the city from all four gates.

Along their route, they proclaimed loudly and with conviction that Jiu Si Tang’s newly issued regulations said nothing about civilian duels being forbidden against court officials. Could it be that they simply didn’t dare?

No one dared make the call themselves, and the matter was passed up through the ranks until it reached Meng Dichen.

Meng Dichen, too, found himself in a difficult position. Practitioners of the martial world were inherently hard to control, with connections extending into every trade and profession — how many southern-school martial artists served directly under His Majesty alone? There was no way around them. If civilian duels truly couldn’t challenge court officials, that itself would be unjust.

But who could have imagined that Great Liang’s very first challenge notice would be aimed at the Long Blade Bureau! This was a blatant slap in His Majesty’s face!

Even a fool could see it — the Long Blade Bureau numbered seven men, and to challenge a single one of them was already shameless and contemptible in itself, but so what? What could be done about it?

Afterward, firecrackers exploded and gongs thundered outside Jiu Si Tang — this was the very first regulation Jiu Si Tang had issued to govern the martial world, and if they refused to accept the challenge, then everything Meng Dichen and His Majesty had worked toward would collapse entirely.

But then again — if His Majesty’s own Old Blade, as a matter of prestige, were to lose? That wouldn’t look good either, and worse… he would offend Grand Attendant She in the process. Yet there was no room left to worry about that now. Refuse, and the court’s authority over the martial world would lose all credibility from then on. Accept… but this was a grandmaster, a first-rank spear who hadn’t come down from Yuegong Mountain’s Nine Heavens Peak in fifteen years.

In the end, they accepted regardless! And so gongs began sounding throughout Yandu, proclaiming it to all the world!

The martial world truly was the root of chaos in troubled times!

The hall was silent — even Grand Attendant She, who usually enjoyed sharp remarks, hadn’t said a single word today in his student’s defense.

He ached for his student, yet he could not break the rules — this was a matter of state! He could not let the mountain of sacrifice the Shaoshang faction had made, the hard-won foundation of Great Liang, be destroyed now.

How could his student, Qingling’s own disciple, cower and refuse to stand?

Chen Dasheng would die on that arena floor if he had to.

Grand Attendant She thought to himself — if his student were lost, he would spend the next ten years doing nothing else; he would give up these old bones of his if it meant bringing down Yuegong Mountain to accompany his student in death.

An intense, burning fury filled every corner of the palace.

As night fell, several guards carried in two chests sealed with Jiu Si Tang’s seals. The chests were heavy, each large enough to hold a grown man.

As the chests thudded to the ground with a dull, heavy sound, His Majesty felt the chill again, and personally picked up the fire tongs to add more charcoal to the brazier, saying, “In all my life, there are two kinds of useless men I hate most! The wandering knights of old! And now — these so-called martial-world heroes!”

Meng Dichen’s eyes narrowed slightly, his fist clenching briefly — his own hatred ran even deeper than His Majesty’s.

Only Chen Dasheng sat quietly to the side. He understood, of course, what had happened, and knew that without the backing of his brothers, his blade would have to face the enemy head-on alone.

But so what? He feared neither death nor standing his ground! If Old Blade feared to stand, he would never have stood here in the first place.

The guards set down the chests and withdrew. Meng Dichen stood, walked to the chests, tore off the seals, and opened them, revealing a chest full of registers bearing people’s names.

He rifled through for a moment, then found “Pang Tu” among the stack for Nine Heavens Peak. He reached out and pulled one out, only to discover it was merely the first volume — there were middle and lower volumes still below.

Indeed — a first-rank spear, the very grandmaster of Nine Heavens Peak who, twenty years ago, out of righteous fury, had wiped out thirty bandit strongholds across Qingyao Mountain, all on his own.

He presented the three volumes to His Majesty with both hands. His Majesty merely glanced at them with disappointment and said, “Is this all there is?”

He had hoped that with Meng Dichen’s abilities, a comprehensive register could be compiled on these martial-world figures — ideally cataloguing every sect’s secret techniques, their web of connections, records of grudges and debts owed, and every manner of private and personal affair, all thoroughly mapped out.

He did not want to be merely an emperor who controlled the common people.

But — beggars belonged to the martial world, vagrants and idlers belonged to the martial world, the Grand Canal guilds came from the martial world; three hundred sixty trades, each with its own guild, each guild with its own leader; seven hundred twenty peaks across the realm, home to countless so-called grandmasters, so-called hermits.

These people were all interconnected — when the realm prospered, they emerged to stir up trouble; when the realm declined, they scrambled about drawing lines between right and wrong, calling themselves the righteous path saving the world, or the dark path bringing chaos to the people. But how many of them truly cared for the common folk of the realm? Nearly all were men chasing reputation and nothing more!

Scraping by in the small martial world was tolerable enough, but the great figures of the martial world — they paid no taxes, obeyed no laws, acted purely on personal whim. This was something no emperor throughout history could tolerate. And yet, however many emperors had died across the dynasties, the martial world had never once vanished, nor could it ever be made to.

Yang Zao had ambitions of his own, yet he lacked full confidence that under his reign, Great Liang’s realm would never again produce beggared, lawless wanderers.

No one had expected this — that the martial world’s very first probing strike against the court would land squarely on His Majesty’s own blade!

And yet, one had to admit — it was ruthless, and precisely aimed.

What was to be done? How should this be handled? Beneath the seemingly calm surface lurked rules the martial world had upheld for a thousand years, and now they were emerging, each one displaying its own power before this new dynasty.

Yang Zao’s heart surged with turmoil, suppressed and bitter, and burning with fury all at once.

Meng Dichen bowed apologetically. “Your Majesty, it has barely been a year since the founding, and my men are not yet fully in place… this is my failing!”

His Majesty gave a helpless laugh. “Forget it. This has been difficult for Fifth Brother too.” He looked up at Chen Dasheng’s expressionless face, and in his heart, he felt admiration and satisfaction at Chen Dasheng’s consistently unshaken composure. He pointed at the registers and said, “Take these to Dasheng. Have his teacher go over them with him — they might be of some use, at least.”

Chen Dasheng stood, took the registers with both hands, and presented them to his teacher.

Grand Attendant She took them without even looking, tossing them aside as if discarding trash, saying, “What use is looking at this? Half-knowledge is worse than committing everything to one decisive stroke!”

With that, he turned to Chen Dasheng with a smile and asked, “Are you afraid, Sheng’er?”

Chen Dasheng answered with utter steadiness, “He’s just one man!”

The battles he had known were never confined to a narrow dueling platform — going into battle meant facing thousands upon thousands of soldiers, with hundreds of ox-horn trumpets wailing behind him, warriors drinking blood wine and beating war drums made of wild ox hide to rally the troops!

Tens of thousands of men standing in silent confrontation, only the war horses’ urgent panting breaking the stillness, hooves throwing up clods of earth, a dark mass of warriors with hearts of steel — once they marched to battle, none of them ever expected to return alive.

Meng Dichen was stunned, and looked squarely at this Old Blade before him! He must be no more than twenty this year — perhaps he truly had no idea what a martial-world grandmaster even was.

So he asked, “Then — does Registrar Chen know what a martial-world grandmaster truly is?”

Hearing Meng Dichen’s question, Chen Dasheng remained just as calm, and looked at him, saying, “Wind!”

Meng Dichen didn’t understand, and asked, startled, “What?”

Chen Dasheng looked him in the eye and repeated, “Wind! A great wind!”

In that instant, everyone understood. Men who had returned from the battlefield truly had no concept of the martial world — to them, it was merely wind.

“Ha ha — hahahahaha… Good! Good!!”

His Majesty suddenly rose to his feet, every trace of gloom vanishing from him, as though he had been transported back to a battlefield of thousands upon thousands of men. He shed his spring cloak, strode straight out of the hall, and raised a fist to the night sky with a furious roar: “Wind!!”

The guards on night duty, only recently returned from the battlefield themselves, still carried their old habits — in an instant, they all drew their sabers as one, raised them overhead, and roared together: “Wind! Wind! Wind! Great wind!!”

Emperor Wu, Yang Zao, laughed until tears streamed from his eyes. He roared along with them for a while, then returned as if from a drunken haze, clapped Chen Dasheng on the shoulder, and said, “I shall bestow upon Dasheng a name…”

Grand Attendant She patted Chen Dasheng’s shoulder gently and said, “Kneel, Sheng’er.”

Chen Dasheng slowly knelt. Emperor Wu Yang Zao placed a hand on his shoulder and said, “Feilian!”

Strangely enough, the moment His Majesty spoke, spring thunder rumbled across the sky, rolling in low and heavy from the distant mountains, gradually resounding over the whole of Yandu.

Spring rain arrived… falling drop by drop onto the earth of Yandu…

Chen Dasheng didn’t know who Feilian was, yet Grand Attendant She’s face was streaming with tears, and he too slowly bowed before His Majesty, proclaiming, “Long live my Emperor! Ten thousand years, ten thousand years!!”

Feilian — another name for the Wind God!

Whether Chen Dasheng lived or died in the duel to the death on the third of the third month, if he lived, he would be a war god walking among mortals; if he died, then by His Majesty’s own sacred decree, he would be personally consecrated as a divine spirit among men.

Whatever the true origin of the Wind God once was, today the mortal Emperor had bestowed a divine title of his own making — should Chen Dasheng not die, that would be one thing, but should he die, then from this day forward, the Wind God worshipped throughout the realm could only be Chen Feilian.

“Bring wine!”

His Majesty, suddenly in the mood for drink, ordered wine brought out, preparing for a night of unrestrained drinking…

The wind and rain fell, the hall doors thrown wide open. Before each of the night-duty guards sat a small table, set with a full wine service.

They sat in silence, drinking alongside their Emperor. His Majesty sat outside the hall, pouring one cup into the rain, then tilting his head back to drink one himself, while everyone silently drank along with him, cup for cup.

No one knew how much time had passed before, in the dim light of distant palace lanterns, a group of figures could be seen slowly approaching through the curtain of rain.

As they drew closer, Chen Dasheng finally recognized them — could it be his own brothers had arrived?

Why had they come? Chen Dasheng stood, swaying slightly.

At the front, Yu Qingguan walked along cradling a bundle, deep in thought, unable to understand why Young Mistress had forbidden him from mentioning the old madam.

Young Mistress had only told him the origin of that bloodstained robe, and the names of the family members who had died and where — nothing more was to be said beyond the request for eight reward tokens to be buried alongside them.

None of them were ever as clever as Young Mistress, so they could only take the item and hurry into the palace.

Along the way, Yu Qingguan kept turning over Young Mistress’s attitude in his mind. She hadn’t seemed the least bit worried about how dangerous this was for their eldest brother. Her only concern had been the old madam’s health — this left Yu Qingguan feeling somewhat unsettled.

But regardless, today this robe had to be delivered before His Majesty.

Seeing his other Old Blades arrive, His Majesty smiled and turned to Zhang Minwang. “Someone, bring wine for my Old Blades!”

Before Zhang Minwang could move, he saw Yu Qingguan and the others slowly approach and kneel before His Majesty, holding a bundle high above their heads.

His Majesty, slightly taken aback, asked, “Something the matter? What is this?”

Yu Qingguan raised his head. “Please forgive this servant first for disturbing Your Majesty’s presence!”

His Majesty waved a hand. “That’s all pointless formality! Speak freely!”

Yu Qingguan slowly set down the bundle and unwrapped it carefully, revealing the bloodstained robe. His tone, steady as their own Old Blade’s, said, “Your Majesty, do you recognize this robe?”

Zhang Minwang raised a lantern and slowly illuminated it.

Everyone looked together. After a long moment, His Majesty said slowly, “This… this looks like one of my old robes… Tongyan Mountain.”

Yu Qingguan nodded. “Precisely so! Your Majesty, today our household’s Old Madam brought this item, and instructed this servant to present it before Your Majesty, to beg on her behalf for eight reward tokens.”

Everyone froze, turning as one to look at Yu Qingguan.

Minister of War Sun Shouyi gave a soft snort — his own family had received only a single gold token. The Chen family, coming from such humble origins, truly didn’t know how to appreciate good fortune when it was given.

Ah, well!

Sun Shouyi looked at Chen Dasheng with an expression of regret, but then heard Yu Qingguan continue, “Our household also asks, begging Your Majesty’s mercy — we don’t seek gold or silver, only eight bronze reward tokens, to serve as burial garments and toll money for the underworld journey for our household’s departed souls…”

Grand Attendant She cut in, “Even asking for reward tokens, one alone would be more than sufficient! You don’t understand the proper etiquette — how dare you make such an excessive request!”

Yu Qingguan looked at His Majesty’s inscrutable expression and said, “Your Majesty, one is not enough! The Chen family — the Chen family has eight coffins!”

The hall fell utterly silent once more…

Distant thunder rumbled faintly overhead as Yu Qingguan spoke on, his voice ringing out clearly: “Our Old Madam, being unwell and confined to bed at the Guard Bureau, truly cannot enter the palace herself to beg for this reward, and so has commanded this servant to plead with Your Majesty on her behalf… Our Old Madam says, this humble woman Chen Wu Shi begs to prostrate herself before you! From the moment Your Majesty raised his banner in Shaoshang, the Chen family’s four sons and eight grandsons all served as Your Majesty’s foot soldiers. In the twenty-fourth year of Hongshun, in the third month, our eldest son Chen Daniu served as Your Majesty’s decoy at Tongyan Mountain, taking twenty-five spear wounds to his body, his corpse cut through with forty-three blade strikes, sacrificing himself in loyal devotion without a shred of regret…”

Chen Dasheng murmured, “Eldest Uncle…”

Yu Qingguan’s memory could only carry him this far, so Tong Jintai took up the recitation: “In the twenty-fourth year of Hongshun, in the seventh month, Chen Choudun perished at Wucheng Pavilion, aged just twelve! Still a child, not yet grown to a man’s height, his lonely spirit wanders still, unable to find its way home… In the second month of the twenty-fifth year of Hongshun, Chen Sanniu perished in the great battle at Chiyuan… In that same month of the twenty-fifth year of Hongshun, Chen Daxing perished at Jilu Terrace, aged twenty-three… In the fourth month of the twenty-fifth year of Hongshun, Chen Chouzhu…”

Chen Dasheng, who never cried, wept silently now.

Finally, Guan Si’er brought the recitation to a close: “…This servant-woman is coarse and unlearned, unfamiliar with proper etiquette, and now, nearing seventy with half her body already in the grave, all eight of her sons and grandsons have given their lives — yet! They served with loyalty and no regret! Now that the realm is at peace, and chaos has given way to harmony, we thank Your Majesty’s boundless grace!! Of the Chen family’s thirteen sons, only five returned. This old woman, grieving for her children, humbly covets the reward money, and now prostrates herself before you, begging for eight tokens to purchase a smooth and easy road through the underworld for her sons and grandsons. In trepidation and awe, she bows her head! Bows her head! Pays homage — pays homage!”

Guan Si’er finished his recitation with a shout, and together with his brothers, prostrated himself: “We beg Your Majesty’s mercy!!”

A moment later, everyone throughout the hall and courtyard slowly knelt as one, pleading, “We beg Your Majesty’s mercy!”

This old woman’s plea for reward had only been half spoken, and already Emperor Wu’s eyes had turned red.

He slowly turned his head to look at Chen Dasheng, who stood with his head bowed, and asked, “Feilian, why did you never mention a single word of this to me before?”

Chen Dasheng was silent for a moment, then slowly raised his head to look at His Majesty and said, “Wind!”

Ah… indeed, it was wind.

While they waited, His Majesty had them rise, then asked Yu Qingguan, “The old lady is ill?”

Yu Qingguan nodded. “Yes, the moment we entered the city, we heard about the civilian duel matter.”

Chen Dasheng, whose expression had remained calm throughout, finally showed alarm, and was about to beg leave to go to her, when he heard Yu Qingguan say, “A palace physician has already been sent for. The Old Madam left instructions, and has already taken her medicine and settled down to rest.”

His Majesty hesitated, then looked at Chen Dasheng and asked again, “Did the old lady have nothing else to say to me?”

Yu Qingguan immediately recalled Young Mistress’s instructions and said, “No, nothing else, truly. Only, after taking her medicine, Old Madam muttered to herself that she’d already given him up to His Majesty’s service long ago!”

Ah, so that was it. So that was it!

His Majesty, who had not shed a single tear until now, finally felt his eyes grow damp and wet.

After a long moment, Sun Shouyi murmured, “What a loyal and righteous Chen family. What a wise and devoted old matriarch!”

He was envious.

Zhang Minwang, leading a group of young eunuchs, finally arrived before the hall carrying three trays of reward tokens.

This time, His Majesty was generous — he took one gold token, three silver tokens, and four bronze tokens. He untied a sachet from his own waist, emptied out the incense within, and placed the tokens in one by one himself. Once finished, he handed it to Chen Dasheng, saying, “Have the formal decree drawn up tomorrow. Go home and see the old lady, and tell her — another day, I shall find occasion to invite the Old Madam to the palace for a family banquet.”

Great Liang had minted very few of these reward tokens — they were only ever granted to those who had achieved truly extraordinary merit, and Emperor Wu treated each one he gave with the utmost gravity. To hand over an entire pouchful at once like this — this was the first time it had ever happened.

Chen Dasheng slowly knelt, raising both hands to receive it from his elders and brothers, feeling as though an enormous weight had settled upon his heart.

He could find no fine words to say, only, “…Yes.”

He held the heavy pouch, not daring to rise, retreating backward on his knees step by step until he reached the doorway. As he stood, he suddenly heard His Majesty call out to him: “Feilian!”

Chen Dasheng, still holding the pouch, turned and knelt again. “This subject is here!”

A single gleaming gold reward token flew through the air toward him; he reached out with both hands, and the gold token landed atop the embroidered pouch.

Emperor Wu looked at his Old Blade, and said through gritted teeth, “Go! Cut down that Pang Tu! And then — come back to me alive!”

Chen Dasheng nodded earnestly. “Yes, sir!”