To recite this poem so openly and shamelessly right in front of its “original author” struck Ning Yi as rather amusing under the circumstances—though, considering Liu Xigua’s temperament, he suspected that even if Li Bai himself were standing before her, she’d do this without so much as a change of expression.
Poetry itself was a trivial matter of no consequence—what truly mattered was the genuine achievement of getting the Overlord Blade Camp to act at this moment. Liu Xigua was no fool. Being able to keep the Overlord Blade Camp in such a transcendent position within Fang La’s rebel forces, maintaining its internal harmony through a method that almost never showed its face publicly, all while commanding immense respect within the Overlord Blade Camp itself—her intelligence and shrewdness, in truth, far exceeded that of most people.
People often say that experience brings wisdom—that even if one thinks less, age alone sharpens judgment. But Liu Xigua’s life experience wasn’t extraordinarily greater than anyone else’s; everything could only be attributed to natural intelligence and sharp insight. She was a woman of strong opinions, and persuading her to risk a break with Bao Daoyi for anything’s sake was extremely difficult. Ning Yi had only roughly told her that having extreme ideals, accomplishing extraordinary things, required the difficulty of having true “comrades.”
Those words hadn’t originally been prepared for Chen Fan’s sake—that backup plan had only been meant to give this group of children a chance to survive. When it was Chen Fan who ultimately took action, Ning Yi himself hadn’t been particularly confident that Liu Xigua would show up. Comparatively, the tangled web of connections behind this group of children meant that truly saving them would also benefit the Overlord Blade Camp—but if it were only Chen Fan alone, there clearly wasn’t nearly as much value in it.
Had this happened a few days earlier, Ning Yi wouldn’t even have held out hope for it. Liu Xigua was strong-willed and bold, and didn’t seem to have lost too much of her innocence—she still felt considerable indignation over many matters in her heart—but that didn’t mean she was truly reckless by nature. To keep the Overlord Blade Camp from suffering too great a blow after Li Tianrun’s return to the city, she was even willing to personally kill Qi Yuankang with her own hands. No matter how much friendship she and Chen Fan shared in ordinary times, once Chen Fan moved against Bao Daoyi, she would surely try to stay out of it.
But with those words said, and with the resolve made that night, there was reason to hope. Since everything had happened so quickly, Ning Yi had brought along a group of students to try to buy some time, partly to give Liu Xigua more room to think it over, and partly to bind the bargaining chip of “the students” as tightly as possible to Chen Fan. Still, Liu Xigua’s decisiveness at this moment had genuinely exceeded Ning Yi’s expectations.
Once she’d made up her mind, she had immediately acted to save Chen Fan, and then, with an incomparably forceful attitude, struck back. Originally, given the Overlord Blade Camp’s standing, it might still have been possible to stall or find some way to give Bao Daoyi a face-saving way out—but in those brief words of hers, there had been no room left for compromise. Within just a few sentences, the decision to fight had already been made, and this too became one of the reasons Bao Daoyi found himself completely unable to back down. Perhaps this, in some way, also proved that after several days of quiet reflection, she had, in her heart, already made an extraordinary resolution regarding that matter.
“…If you truly have such ideas, you need to think it through carefully—what you’re about to do runs contrary to this whole world. Not just the Wu Dynasty, but even this city of Hangzhou, even the Yongle court, might tolerate you for a while, but in the end, you’ll still be at odds with them… I don’t want to deceive you. The worst outcome might be that one day, even half the people in the Overlord Blade Camp will turn against you—and by then, how many people will still be standing beside you… you’ll regret it then…”
Having made her decision, she immediately struck at Bao Daoyi—this was to further establish her authority, to prepare for the Overlord Blade Camp’s freedom from interference going forward. In all these years, she might never have truly done something so brazen and unreasonable on such a grand stage, but once she decided to do it, the Overlord Blade Camp’s strength proved astonishing. By the time the first line, “The knight of Zhao, tassels of rough silk at his throat, a Wu-hook blade gleaming like frost and snow,” was finished, the one or two hundred men under Bao Daoyi who had arrived first were already nearby, and the members of the Overlord Blade Camp who had appeared on rooftops and in the alleys had also begun converging toward this spot.
Footsteps crisscrossed, figures gathered—at first glance it looked somewhat chaotic, but on closer inspection, nearly every person maintained the same distance from those around them. This group numbered roughly seventy or eighty, all dressed in matching black-and-white tight-fitting garb, long blades slung across their backs. When Liu Tiannan waved his hand, Du Sha and the others also stepped forward from the side, drawing their weapons and forming the vanguard of this formation. Their steps weren’t simply straight-ahead advances but crisscrossing movements, aimed directly at the first row of the formation formed by the bandits Bao Daoyi had brought. They were experts, and their opponents were also seasoned figures of the martial underworld; at a glance, the atmosphere looked as though everyone was about to pair off and fight to the death—but if anyone’s focus wavered even slightly, in the blink of an eye they would find their opponent had already changed to someone else entirely.
On the end of the long street where Ning Yi and the others stood, more than thirty men of the Overlord Blade Camp had begun standing at the street’s mouth, sealing off the road there.
On Bao Daoyi’s side, the original forty-odd bandits contracted into formation, while the two hundred-plus men who had arrived afterward were led by a minor officer, who was still asking Bao Daoyi for instructions. He too could tell that the men coming from the other side were no ordinary lot—this was no common brawl. Bao Daoyi felt a measure of regret as well; he hadn’t expected the Overlord Blade Camp to act so decisively—it made no sense by any reasonable standard—but what filled him more, in the end, was still fury: you little upstart must have taken the wrong medicine, thinking I couldn’t crush you.
At the center of the street, the vanguards of both sides had already closed the distance. The Overlord Blade Camp advanced, and Bao Daoyi’s bandit horde retreated slightly.
“Silver saddle… gleaming on a white horse!”
Without further words, the first clash of weapons rang out with a “clang,” followed by countless more clashes, blades meeting at close range. The street wasn’t particularly narrow, but even so, only about twenty men on each side could engage at once. Among martial artists, the first exchange usually served as a probe—but this time was different. The skill with which Du Sha and the others coordinated their divide-and-conquer tactics within the Overlord Blade Camp was extraordinary. One man had barely traded two blows with Fang Shuchang when his opponent suddenly changed to Luo Bingren; beside him, Qian Luoning cut through the middle path, and just as that man tried to block, Ji Qian’er’s Mandarin Duck Blades flashed in from the left. As his body shifted hastily to one side, Fang Shuchang had already swung his long blade in from the right, sweeping him into the assault.
“Swift as a shooting star—”
Amid the ringing chant of Liu Xigua’s recitation, the Overlord Blade Camp’s formation surged forward two more steps with a great rumble, its front line crashing into the first row of Bao Daoyi’s bandit horde. Six men were swept into the assault, and nothing but blood spilled out.
At the street’s other end, the additional hundred-plus men who had also responded to Bao Daoyi’s signal flare had by now arrived as well. Seeing that only thirty-odd men blocked the road, they charged straight forward: “Move aside! Move aside!”
“No passage here.”
“We’re on business for the Tianrui Camp—who do you all think you are!”
“I said, no passage!”
The lead officer of the Overlord Blade Camp spoke in a stern, severe voice; the other side, entirely unafraid, pressed forward all the same, and right up close, drew their blades and spears: “Damn it, you think this handful of men can stop us? Do you even know who we serve? Now get out of the way—”
At the far end of the street, Liu Xigua’s voice rose again.
“Ten paces… one man slain!”
“Damn you, get out of the—”
“Kill!”
The lead officer gave a low shout and reversed his grip on his blade—almost everyone drew their blades at the same instant. Along this barrier formed by more than thirty men, the flash of blades swept through in a single arc like the great wheel of a threshing machine, cutting through the crowd of over a hundred pressed together in front. More than a dozen men at the front were struck down in a spray of blood, all at once.
The thirty-some men lowered their long blades, blood dripping from every blade’s edge.
“The Overlord Blade Camp is here—we said no passage. Anyone who dares advance further… dies!”
Those behind shrank back, retreating, opening up some distance. For a moment, the more than a dozen corpses lying beneath those thirty-some long blades looked all the more jarring.
By the time Liu Xigua reached the line “a thousand miles, and leaving no trace behind,” the entire scene had erupted into full motion. Ahead on the street, blades flashed and clashed violently. The Overlord Blade Camp’s members surged past the first carriage. These hundred-odd men, even among the ranks of the Overlord Blade Camp, counted as elite—well-versed in martial arts and thoroughly familiar with battlefield tactics, coordinating closely with one another. The bandits ahead, at best merely skilled in individual combat, were no match for this under such circumstances, being pushed back steadily, with men falling to blades from time to time. Near the roadside, someone tried to leap onto a rooftop to attack from above, only to be intercepted successively by three Overlord Blade Camp members; when he charged onto the rooftop, he was met head-on and cut down with a single stroke. Atop the rooftop, the man twirled his blade in a flourish and continued forward, watching the scene below. Someone leapt onto a carriage roof, fired a single arrow toward the front, then jumped back down.
By now Ning Yi had already come to realize that Liu Xigua’s laborious effort to recite poetry there was, perhaps, not solely for the sake of showing off. Her voice, clear and resonant, rang out like the beat of a drum—its rhythm not only bolstered morale but also gave the whole crowd a unified cadence to coordinate their advance and their strikes. The movements of these hundred-plus figures looked chaotic at first glance, but nearly every single person’s footsteps landed precisely on the rhythm of that poem, “The Ballad of the Chivalrous Traveler.” The fighting ahead remained intense, and that voice continued on, showing no mercy.
“…His deeds accomplished, he shook out his robes and departed, concealing both his achievements and his name… At leisure, he called on Xinling Lord for wine, unbuckling his sword and laying it across his knees. He roasted meat for Zhu Hai to eat, and raised his cup to toast Hou Ying—”
Battle, blade-light, blood—and yet the most extraordinary thing of all remained that ceaseless recitation, ringing out like the clash of weapons, its heroic spirit resounding. Watching those before them cut men down in near-rhythmic unison with that cadence, almost like a dance, the onlookers and youths up in the taverns and teahouses widened their eyes, their breathing growing rapid. Even Ning Yi couldn’t help feeling a surge of hot blood at the sight, wanting to cheer for Liu Xigua’s masterful handling of the whole affair. Over there, another wave of Bao Daoyi’s men had already arrived, but with people crowded upon people, they couldn’t make their way to the front. More reinforcements had also arrived on the other side of the street; seeing that only thirty-odd men blocked the way, they shouted, “Charge through!” and surged forward. Blades clashed violently, figures fell one after another, blood surging forth. The thirty-odd men advanced and retreated by turns, but their line never broke, holding back the surging crowd like a wave, again and again.
Next came the line, “Three cups, and he gave his word of honor; five mountains’ weight, he treated as nothing.” In the brief span of these few lines, at the rear of the street, the vanguard of the army opposing that formation of over thirty men began retreating once more—but now some had begun loosing arrows. Yet arrows fired down from the rooftops sent even more of them tumbling—the Overlord Blade Camp’s own archers had likewise appeared atop the rooftops on both sides, while on the side clashing directly with Bao Daoyi’s forces, archers had appeared there as well, watching the situation closely. By now, the Overlord Blade Camp’s total forces on the scene numbered around two hundred—likely no more would come. The battle had begun to grow chaotic, and Bao Daoyi’s men had started climbing onto rooftops as well, the casualties beginning to mount on both sides.
Ning Yi watched all of this. What followed now was practically warfare itself—something even he hadn’t anticipated. At the center of the street, An Xifu and a dozen-odd Black Feather Guards were already positioned behind the Overlord Blade Camp’s elite forces, watching as well, but An Xifu had already begun shouting: “Stop! Stop this at once!” He tried to charge straight toward where Liu Xigua was, but Liu Tiannan grabbed him by the shoulder. The two exchanged several blows, but An Xifu was, of course, no match for Liu Tiannan, and the two ended up arguing loudly on the street instead.
Over there, Bao Daoyi’s voice could still be heard: “Today I’ll have the Overlord Blade Camp stripped of its name—charge, charge up there…”
“…After the pleasure of feasting and drinking wine, his spirit rose like a rainbow! To save Zhao, he raised the golden mace, and all of Handan trembled in shock! Those two great heroes of a thousand autumns, their glory blazed through the city of Daliang…” Liu Xigua herself had by now been swept up in this atmosphere as well, and the lines of poetry, one after another, rang out with impassioned excitement, never pausing for a moment.
Blood-light, chaos—countless voices merged into one. On this afternoon in the city of Hangzhou, Pingchang Street had erupted, unstoppably, into a full boil.
Amid this frenzy, Ning Yi drew in a breath and looked over toward one side of the tavern. Suddenly, he caught sight of a figure that left him utterly stunned, rooted to the spot.
The slaughter continued on…