HCAW 134

Chapter 134: Wind Tiger, Cloud Dragon

News of the successor to the Tianfu Guard spread through the Xian Mountain Guards like a swarm of locusts. After witnessing that young man’s prowess firsthand, their doubts grew rather than diminished: could such a greenhorn truly protect the Emperor? With nothing better to do, the Xian Mountain Guards surrounded Langgan Guard and pestered him endlessly:

“Langgan Guard, we hear your fine son has been promoted. What skills does he possess to make His Majesty grant him such high honors?”

Langgan Guard always answered with a smile: “My son has no special merits—he’s simply of similar age to His Majesty. His Majesty has him act as a study companion, nothing more.”

Naturally, the other guards were not satisfied with that answer. So they stirred up a ruckus before Emperor Bai himself. Eventually, Ji Zhi was so beset by them that he agreed to let them spar with Fang Minsheng on an appointed day—only, it must be a light exchange without going too far.

Thus, a few days later, the Xian Mountain Guards assembled in force at the martial hall.

As soon as they entered, they saw a youth wearing a silver mask standing at the center of the hall. He wore a dark cloak, lean and slender, like a crow perched on a branch, seeming ready to vanish into shadow at any moment. A towering and burly man stepped forward—hair streaked with white, his breath stirring clouds, the Yu Ji Guard. He bellowed with laughter:

“So this is the newly appointed Tianfu Guard? Let this old man try him first!”

The Yu Ji Guard was second only to the Tianfu Guard among the Xian Mountain Guards. If he stepped forward, none dared object. The man’s massive frame cast a shadow that could swallow the youth whole. He sneered at Fang Minsheng, saying, “A little shrimp, and His Majesty puts such weight on you? His Majesty is still young and naïve to entrust a child with such a heavy post—what a joke!”

Fang Minsheng said nothing. Suddenly, the Yu Ji Guard bent low, his ten fingers piercing into the golden bricks. With a bit of force, the tiles heaved like a dragon burrowing below, debris scattering. Fang Minsheng’s stance wavered as the ground shattered beneath him. The Yu Ji Guard leapt high, twin golden claws lashing out like a furious storm!

Fang Minsheng vaulted, landing on a pillar, stepping lightly on midair debris like a dragonfly skimming the water, evading the attack with grace. The Yu ji Guard pursued relentlessly—fist and foot roaring like winter wind. Dust flew, columns trembled, and the wind cut like blades; others could barely stand firm.

The Yu Ji Guard’s movements flashed like lightning. In a blink, he was before Fang Minsheng and struck out. Fang Minsheng couldn’t guard in time—his silver mask was knocked clean off, revealing a face like pine wind and clear water, delicate and radiant. The Yu Ji Guard grinned savagely:

“Heh, little Tianfu Guard. If you can’t beat me, then forget guarding the young emperor—come serve in my bed instead!”

Gu Bi Guard, watching from the side, laughed: “Old Rooster is still a lecher. With my fine looks, I fear for my own safety now.” Ruyi Guard rolled her eyes: “Dead wildcat, who’d want to lay with you? Even marked down for sale in the market, no one would buy you after ten days!”

The old guard’s filth went ignored by Fang Minsheng. But the Yu Ji Guard’s power could shatter mountains—each strike shook the Chengying Sword in Fang Minsheng’s hand. At last, Fang Minsheng sheathed it and dodged to the weapons rack, grabbing hook-blades and long swords. In an instant, cold light flowed like autumn water. The Yu Ji Guard was caught off guard by the weapon switch. As his fists broke blade after blade, Fang Minsheng simply picked up another: spear, halberd, glaive, pike—he wielded them all with ease and elegance. The Xian Mountain Guards were inwardly shocked: the boy truly knew all eighteen martial disciplines!

Weapons fell one after another. Fang Minsheng moved like flowing water. The Yu Ji Guard’s blows shattered the floor tiles, even though Fang Minsheng deflected most of the force.

Then, with a tiger’s roar, the Yu Ji Guard lunged. Fang Minsheng crossed his weapons in defense—suddenly, a wiry old man burst from behind with a wicked laugh: “Kid, let me have a go too!” Knives flew like rain from his hand.

Yu Jue Guard crossed her arms and sneered: “Two against one? Shameful! You disgrace the name of the Xian Mountain Guards!” But Fang Minsheng calmly flicked his fingers—between them were tiny fire caltrops. The boy in black said coolly:

“Come all at once. I can handle it.”

What an arrogant brat! The guards’ spirits stirred. Clearly this boy was no ordinary youth—he had withstood the Yu Ji Guard’s assault unharmed. Bi Bao Guard smiled: “Very well then, we’ll answer your challenge.”

At once, the Xian Mountain Guards rushed in, surrounding the boy in black. Gu Bi Guard wielded the Panguan Brush, Bai Huan Guard’s silver threads flew, Ruyi Guard drew her bow, Yu Jue Guard cracked her knuckles, Yu Yin Guard’s blade gleamed like frost—all charged in.

Just then, a voice laughed from the door:

“So many Xian Mountain Guards ganging up on one youth—not the least bit ashamed?”

All turned and saw Ji Zhi in sea-green robes, beautiful and at ease, leaning by the door. Seeing the emperor arrive, the guards pushed harder. But Fang Minsheng weaved through them like a darkbird in flight—swift, elusive.

After several passes, the guards realized their limbs were entangled. Looking down, they saw white threads coiling their arms and legs—he had used Bai Huan Guard’s threads to lay a trap! Then he redirected their attacks: Bi Bao Guard’s whip coiled Gu Bi Guard’s neck, Ruyi’s arrow hit the Yu Ji Guard’s claw. Chaos erupted in the hall.

Individually, the guards were unmatched, but together they stumbled over one another. Ji Zhi laughed till he clutched his sides: “Ah, one little shrimp felling a whole bushel of sour jujubes!” Embarrassed, the guards blushed.

Fang Minsheng emerged from the trap, dusty but uninjured. Before he could stand, a sudden gust warned him—a figure behind! He ducked just in time to see Langgan Guard strike, sword flashing at his head. Ji Zhi laughed again: “Such a savage father, striking his own son!”

Fang Minsheng twisted, braced with his arms, and kicked hard—Langgan Guard flew back, winded. Ji Zhi clapped with delight: “Such a savage son, not even sparing blood ties!”

The guards finally broke free, roaring. Mohe Guard fired a blast that shattered the main pillar. With the hall already damaged, it began to collapse. Yu Yin Guard cried out:

“Your Majesty—!”

Yu Jue Guard shouted: “The pillar’s falling! Protect His Majesty!”

The guards rushed to Ji Zhi’s side. But their feet tangled—those cursed white threads again! Ruyi shrieked, “Damn Bai Huan Guard and his threads—look what you’ve done!” Bai Huan Guard scratched his head sheepishly: “Apologies—I thought someone Ruyi Guard’s size couldn’t be tangled so easily.” Ruyi lunged at him, snarling.

Just then, a black shadow flashed. Fang Minsheng stood calm, one hand holding the threads—the culprit who had ensnared them—and the other gripping the Chengying Sword. The blade burned like dark fire, vaporizing all in its path.

With a quake like heaven shaking, the guards felt as if cannonballs struck them. Fang Minsheng’s power—amplified by the Immortal Elixir—was far beyond mortal. His sword blazed with killing force, his eyes as sharp as King Yama’s.

In a blink, he stood before Ji Zhi. His sword danced like rain, slicing the falling pillar into shards before it hit the ground.

Stone debris scattered like spring snow.

Amid the swirling dust, Ji Zhi still stood at the doorway with arms folded, looking entirely unbothered. Fang Minsheng sheathed his sword and knelt before him:

“Forgive me for startling Your Majesty. The fault lies with your humble servant.”

Ji Zhi gave a slight nod. “Well done. I expected as much. Once they start fighting, even two or three halls wouldn’t survive their antics. Don’t take it to heart.” With that, he turned his gaze toward the assembled Xian Mountain Guards. “Now you’ve seen it for yourselves—this one is no ordinary man. If he remains at my side, it will be for a greater purpose.”

Emperor Bai’s tone was brimming with pride, as if Fang Minsheng’s victory were his own. He looked around again. “From this day forth, he is the ‘Tianfu Guard.’ Does anyone object?”

Though Fang Minsheng hadn’t directly faced each of the guards in combat, his agility and strategic acumen were evident. The Xian Mountain Guards exchanged glances. The Yu Ji Guard was the first to laugh:

“Good… good! This boy is quite something.”

Bi Bao Guard said, “I haven’t seen such an exceptional youth in many years. Since His Majesty has spoken, what more can we say?” The rest nodded, their eyes tinged with reluctance, offering a few half-hearted words of agreement. To them, it was just another whim of the young emperor.

Ji Zhi scanned the room. Seeing no one dared speak further, he said, “Fang Minsheng, come here.” Fang Minsheng rose and approached him, his expression calm and just slightly endearingly awkward.

Ji Zhi took out a yellow jade talisman—round below and square above, smooth as congealed fat, etched with characters in fine jade script. It was the legendary “Heaven-and-Earth Talisman” passed down through the royal family. Emperor Bai handed it to Fang Minsheng, who accepted it with both hands and knelt low. Ji Zhi said:

“From now on, you are the ‘Tianfu Guard.’ This is my decree—none may defy it. You shall charge into danger for me, and if need be, be ground to dust. In return, I place my life in your hands.”

Fang Minsheng’s grip on the Heaven-and-Earth Talisman tightened. He bowed low. “I shall not fail the mission entrusted to me.”

The rest of the Xian Mountain Guards knelt too. “We shall follow Your Majesty’s command and sacrifice ourselves if need be.”

Though the ceremony was modest, none dared question its gravity. Ji Zhi signaled them to rise. The guards withdrew, except for Langgan Guard, whom Ji Zhi held back.

The martial hall was dim and wrecked. In the slanting sunlight from the window, Ji Zhi saw that Langgan Guard was smiling, seemingly quite pleased with the outcome. Langgan Guard bowed. “Thank you, Your Majesty, for elevating my son. Minsheng was raised under strict discipline, unversed in social graces. If he has offended Your Majesty in any way, I beg your forgiveness.”

But the smile on Ji Zhi’s face suddenly faded. Hands behind his back, he paced the hall, then said, “Now that your son has become Tianfu Guard, are you pleased?”

“It is the highest honor. My family is deeply grateful.”

Ji Zhi said, “But I am not pleased. You’ve raised him to be a death-bound servant, a blade.”

Langgan Guard seemed flustered, stammering, “Does he not suit Your Majesty’s will?”

“He does, and yet he doesn’t,” Ji Zhi replied. “I have no shortage of blades and weapons at my side—but true companions? Those are few.”

He lifted his gaze. In that moment, the majesty of the emperor fell away, and he was just a lonely, earnest young man. Ji Zhi said solemnly:

“I don’t want a killing sword. I want a friend.”

Peace returned to the realm. Though the birthday celebrations had passed, the streets remained lively. Carriages lined the avenues, crowds bustling. One square-framed carriage stopped before Wuju Alley, and two youths hopped down. One wore a white brocade robe with honeysuckle patterns, hands behind his back, brimming with elegance. The other wore an arrow-sleeved robe embroidered with bamboo and kept his head bowed timidly.

“Your… Your Majesty…” the newly appointed Tianfu Guard was clearly ill at ease, tugging at his sleeve. “When are we going back to the palace?”

The other youth was naturally Ji Zhi in plain dress. He hushed him, “Don’t call me ‘Your Majesty.’ We’re on a secret visit. Once we’ve seen enough, we’ll return. Don’t worry.”

Tianfu Guard still looked uneasy, as if he were a block of ice melting under the sun. “Then may I call you… ‘Your Highness’?”

“That’s hardly any better.” “Then I’ll call you ‘Master.’” Ji Zhi nodded. “So long as you don’t draw attention.”

Life in the palace was dull, and Ji Zhi was a restless soul who disliked being confined. He often snuck out on private excursions, and this time he naturally dragged Fang Minsheng along.

Before they left, he had the weaving house make a special robe for him. Fang Minsheng wore the bamboo-embroidered robe like it was lined with thorns. Now, walking behind Ji Zhi and trembling, he muttered, “Master… I’m not suited for this robe.”

“Why not?”

“It’s too conspicuous. I’m someone meant for the shadows, not the open sun.”

“Bamboo is noble and upright—very fitting for you. Why not wear it? This is an imperial command. Wear it.” Ji Zhi grabbed his wrist and pulled him into a theater hall. “Come, I’ll show you something worthwhile.”

The theater was packed and noisy. They found a bench to sit on, shoulder to shoulder with the crowd. The air was heavy and reeked of sweat. Fang Minsheng thought: if someone wanted to assassinate the emperor here, there couldn’t be a better place. But soon, he had no time for such thoughts, for colorful performers swept across the stage, costumes dazzling in red, yellow, blue, and green.

He stared, spellbound, his eyes following every step and gesture. Ji Zhi asked with a smile, “What do you think?”

“I’ve… never seen anything like this.” Fang Minsheng replied. “My father forbade me from leaving the estate. I read about these things, but this is my first time seeing one.”

Ji Zhi felt a pang of sympathy and brightened his voice. “This play is The Orphan of Zhao. It’s about the treacherous minister Tu’an Gu, who tries to eliminate the entire Zhao family. To save the orphan, a loyalist named Cheng Ying switches his own baby with Zhao’s and sacrifices much.”

Fang Minsheng nodded. “I’ve read the tale.”

Ji Zhi thought, He’s read the story, but watches the stage like a child seeing the world for the first time. He sighed. “Sometimes I wonder—bloodline is a curse. Born into royalty, even the weak and useless will have people dying for them without question.”

Fang Minsheng said, “Someone like Master—just staying alive brings joy to the common people. It gives them something to look forward to.”

Ji Zhi smiled faintly at the remark. Fang Minsheng suddenly felt Ji Zhi’s face was like the painted faces of the actors—real feelings hidden under thick disguises.

After a while, Fang Minsheng fidgeted. Ji Zhi asked, “What’s wrong? Don’t like it?”

“I don’t quite understand what Master intends. Watching these plays feels like wasting time.”

Ji Zhi widened his eyes. “There are so many you haven’t seen yet—Peach Blossom Fan, Palace of Eternal Life, The Peacock Flies Southeast…”

“You really like watching other people’s romance, don’t you?” Fang Minsheng said.

Ji Zhi grabbed his arm and pushed him back onto the bench. “No! You’re not leaving. It’s been years since I came to the theater. Since we’re here, we’re staying.” Fang Minsheng had no choice but to comply. Ji Zhi watched the actors with a dazed look and said:

“These plays—these histories, legends, stories of the people—are written by the common folk. If I don’t understand them, how can I rule justly?”

Fang Minsheng lowered his head and muttered, “I truly don’t understand… so I will just protect you.”

After the play, Ji Zhi was satisfied and dragged Fang Minsheng to a tavern. They ordered wine, a dish of roast meat, and sat by the window. Fang Minsheng was a lightweight and quickly flushed red with drunkenness. Ji Zhi burst into laughter. “So wine is the Tianfu Guard’s weakness!”

Fang Minsheng’s eyes were red and dazed, but he stubbornly refused to fall over. Ji Zhi dragged him to the window and poked through the paper pane. Outside, light snow drifted on the wind. Shops bustled with vendors hawking goods and shouting.

Ji Zhi pointed. “Look at them. They work hard, from dawn till dusk, but they still smile. You should learn from them. Smile more.”

“No one sees me in the shadows, so there’s no point smiling,” Fang Minsheng replied stubbornly.

Ji Zhi said, “Who says no one sees you? Don’t I count? A smile is a mask—it makes enemies think you’re unshaken.”

Fang Minsheng slumped on the window sill, rested his head on his arms, and turned to look at Ji Zhi. His cheeks glowed red like evening clouds, and his eyes were clear even in his stupor. He struggled to lift the corners of his mouth and forced a clumsy but earnest smile.

Ji Zhi’s heart skipped a beat.

“So all those times you smiled at me before… were they not genuine?”

Ji Zhi fell silent. Looking at Fang Minsheng, he saw not a warrior or a shadow—but a bird with broken wings, a seedling sprouting from hard soil, the reflection of his past self.

Fang Minsheng had been bound by family just like he was—but his future would be different.

In those onyx-like eyes, Ji Zhi saw something untouched by the filth of the world—something that made him let down his guard. Though he had not drunk a drop, his own face began to flush.

“No. When I smile at you…” he turned away, voice low, “it’s always genuine.”