Chapter Thirteen: The Silent Henchman

Wei Chunfeng stood firmly not far in front of Yin Shiniang. Towering and imposing, he held himself straight as the true energy within him began to circulate, gradually releasing a distinct metallic, iron-like aura. His skin darkened silently, making him resemble an iron tower.

He raised the strange blade in his hand, angling it toward Yin Shiniang.

“Wei Chunfeng has come to test your formidable skills!” His voice boomed like a great bell. At the instant he spoke, streams of true energy surged from his fingertips along the blade, flowing like dark, turbulent waters. Suddenly, intricate patterns that were usually invisible on the blade burst into radiant light.

A fierce and malevolent energy surged from the blade, forming several tangible tiger heads around its edge. These tiger heads were fierce beyond measure, terrifying to behold.

“Tiger Fury Blade!” Shuerhan’s gaze sharpened abruptly.

He had clashed many times with the Tang cavalry, and the impression left by such elite warriors was unforgettable. Yet, facing such a formidable opponent, Yin Shiniang remained calm and said lightly, “I have noted your name.”

Wei Chunfeng knew her identity and felt not the slightest anger. To him, a great swordsman ought to carry such an aura. In Chang’an, all great swordsmen were figures of reverence, each possessing such bearing. A mere soldier like himself had no place to challenge them.

Still, Wei Chunfeng smiled proudly. “Not only will you remember my name, but the Tang Dynasty will remember it too. The military records will bear my name!”

“Let us fight!”

His wild laughter had just begun to bloom on his face when he gripped the long hilt tightly, his waist and abdomen suddenly exerting force. The strange blade seemed to come alive, and the roar of a fierce tiger echoed through the air.

The dense, ink-black malevolent energy raced along the blade’s arc. As the blade swept horizontally toward Yin Shiniang, the tiger heads solidified from the energy lunged at her from multiple directions.

Everyone’s expressions changed.

The malevolent aura was so intense that even the spectators felt as if their lungs were filled with iron sand, making breathing extremely difficult.

Without any extra flourish, merely wielding the strange blade’s length for a horizontal slash, the blade’s glow seemed capable of severing mountains themselves!

Along this trade route, many skilled swordsmen from Persia were known for their agility, their curved blades spinning like the hems of skirts close to their bodies. Once they reached close quarters, survival was nearly impossible. Yet these Persian blade experts feared Tang generals wielding strange blades above all.

They could never get close; the strange blade could cut them down before they could strike. In the hands of Tang generals, this heavy strange blade moved as flexibly as a wooden practice sword, but at the moment of collision, it felt like a charging carriage that could crush their curved blades and bodies alike.

Such a strike seemed beyond even a great swordsman’s ability to counter directly. Yin Shiniang took a step back.

Tall in stature, she retreated quite a distance in a single step.

Wei Chunfeng seemed to have anticipated her retreat. The moment she stepped back, accompanied by arrogant laughter, he stepped forward. His sweeping strange blade halted abruptly, then thrust mercilessly toward her abdomen.

Mastering the heavy, long strange blade with the lightness and agility of chopsticks was a skill honed through relentless practice, embodying the experience of generations of strange blade wielders. The border armies of the Tang believed that only those who had been struck by enemy blades on the battlefield could truly coordinate the power of their waist, arms, and wrists.

Wei Chunfeng had been struck more times than he could count.

In the eyes of his fellow soldiers on the battlefield, his strange blade moved with the grace of flowing clouds and water.

But today, his blade would not flow.

The solidified malevolent tiger heads struck Yin Shiniang’s body.

She stood unmoved, her energy dissipating along the hem of her garment.

Suddenly, the strange blade in his hand grew unbearably heavy, multiplied countless times in weight!

At the same time, his body lost balance abruptly, uncontrollably twisting to the right.

With shock, he saw a brilliant flash of sword light erupt from Yin Shiniang’s hand, lightly tapping his blade.

No great force was used, as if a chopstick had tapped a plate.

Yet it was not only the plate that moved—the entire table holding the plate shifted.

How could this be?

In his disbelieving eyes, Yin Shiniang shifted from defense to offense, stepping forward to stand before him.

Bang!

In the next instant, Wei Chunfeng and his blade were thrown backward.

A burst of uncontrollable gasps arose.

He Fenglin took a deep breath, his face paling somewhat.

His understanding of the Yin Mountain Gang was not as profound as Gu Liubai’s, but both the northern and western border armies of Tang knew the Yin Mountain area harbored a group of ruthless decapitators.

Among them was a great swordsman who killed without bloodshed. Those he killed were pierced through the throat with a single stroke, dying instantly. The wounds appeared as if frozen by autumn frost, leaving only faint white marks.

It was certain that these men never killed uselessly. Because of their presence, the Yin Mountain region had gradually become a forbidden zone for Tang fugitives.

He did not know exactly who the so-called “Frost Sword Master” had slain. Most nobles in Chang’an had never even heard of the Frost Sword, but all northern border generals tacitly accepted that this was a great swordsman.

In Chang’an, sword users were classified into four ranks: swordsman, swords expert, sword master, and great sword master. Only six or seven people in the entire city could claim the prestigious title of great sword master.

Using some prominent figures as reference, He Fenglin was certain he had reached the third tier, worthy of the sword master title. Yet, a great swordsman had slain two of his comrades before him, and he could only discern that the opponent wielded two swords. As for the frost sword that had pierced the throat, he could not even clearly see it.

The gulf between him and a great swordsman was as vast as the clouds and mud!

He did not fear death, and in his view, none would return alive from this mission.

Wei Chunfeng or himself—it was merely a matter of dying sooner or later.

But without fulfilling orders from above, their deaths would be meaningless. They would gain no military honors, and their families would receive no due rewards.

“Do you know where your biggest problem lies?” Gu Liubai suddenly asked Chen Tu as he looked at the fallen Wei Chunfeng.

Chen Tu was taken aback. “What do you mean?”

Gu Liubai said, “You specialize in killing. Every arrangement you make is for killing. So when problems arise, you always think killing is the best solution. When there’s trouble, kill; when there's big trouble, kill them all.”

Chen Tu smiled bitterly. “Isn’t it best to do what you’re best at?”

Gu Liubai did not respond to that, only furrowed his brows lightly and said, “But maybe I was wrong before.”

Chen Tu was puzzled.

“Everyone fights for their lives. Killing is indeed the simplest choice, but I want to try other methods.”

Gu Liubai glanced at the fallen Wei Chunfeng, his eyes growing extremely cold. “Think carefully about this question: if the powerful in Chang’an have no conflicts of interest or enmity with you, what benefit would come from killing you?”

“What benefit is there in killing the Yin Mountain Gang?”

In the central courtyard of the Egret Grass Station, Xie Wan faced a similar interrogation.

It was early morning, and on the table before him lay seven or eight exquisite small dishes and a bowl of soup pancakes.

Opposite him sat a middle-aged official dressed in a pale crimson robe.

The official’s face was dark and his mood clearly bad. Seemingly wanting to spoil Xie Wan’s good mood because of his own displeasure, he showed no concern that his spatters of saliva sprayed into the soup pancake bowl in the morning sunlight.

Seeing Xie Wan’s indifferent expression, the official raised his voice and spat even more, “Sending He Fenglin from Shazhou to die—I don’t know what you were thinking. Don’t you know he’s the one who delivered the tribute letter to Mr. Lengyun? What good comes from angering Mr. Lengyun? The second miss of the Pei family is not someone you must marry.”

Xie Wan smiled faintly, pushing the bowl of soup pancakes toward the official, indicating it was his to take.

The official grew even angrier, simply picking up the bowl and drinking it down in three gulps without using chopsticks.

“He Fenglin is a model soldier of the Tang army. He died for the country, and the emperor will reward him. Mr. Lengyun will naturally have face. Where is the anger in that?” Xie Wan said calmly. “Besides, it was because the Yin Mountain Gang betrayed us at the front that he died heroically. The Yin Mountain Gang had been colluding with the Turks all along. The credit for wiping out the Yin Mountain Gang should be theirs.”

The official slammed down the empty bowl, grinding his teeth. “Young Master Xie, I know you’re clever, but don’t treat everyone as fools. You say the Yin Mountain Gang colluded with the Turks—that’s something the northern generals will never accept.”

Xie Wan smiled. “The emperor suspected those northern generals, which is why he made great effort to recall them. They dare not stir up trouble now.”

“If you want to frame them, you can certainly fabricate ‘solid evidence,’” the official sneered coldly. “But those men were only recalled, not killed. They don’t need proof to act. They will remember their grudges against you and won’t miss any chance to retaliate.”

“If your brother hadn’t asked me to lend you a hand, I wouldn’t have bothered with this matter at all.”

After a pause, the official looked directly at Xie Wan. “There’s a great swordsman among the Yin Mountain Gang. I can’t understand why you insist on provoking them.”

Xie Wan met his gaze with disdain. “Precisely because of that, it can only be them.”