HCAW 45

Chapter 45 – Together Across Rivers and Seas

On the tower, banners flapped in the wind. Soldiers in heavy armor stood shoulder to shoulder, halberds and crossbows in hand, surrounding a large honeysuckle-patterned canopy.

Beneath the canopy, the Mohe Guard and Yu Ji Guard flanked both sides, clad in padded silk armor of dark jade purple and fragrant leaf red. Between them sat Emperor Changyi—his hair white as frost, robed in a round-collared imperial dragon gown. Though he had reached the venerable age of a hundred, he was still hale and strong. Despite the cloudy haze in his eyes, they now shone like torches as he gazed down silently at the youth on the execution platform.

After a long pause, he spoke. His voice was deep and steady, echoing through the stone beneath his feet like a resonating drumbeat:

“Mohe Guard.”

“Your humble servant is here.” The Mohe Guard immediately bowed his head low.

“I recall it was you who brought charges against that criminal on the platform. The National Preceptor also reported the matter to me. Now that man cries of injustice—do you know the truth of it?”

The Mohe Guard dropped to his knees.

“Your Majesty, this man must not be allowed to live! He secretly possessed the late emperor’s relics, violating the laws of Penglai. Now he has even assaulted the National Preceptor, defiling your sacred presence—he must be executed without delay…”

Emperor Changyi rose slowly from his seat. His frame was stooped with age, yet he remained tall and commanding, his spirit crackling like thunder. He stepped to the railing and called out loudly:

“Criminal on the platform!”

His voice rolled down from the tower like storm winds. Fang Jingyu looked back and saw the figure above—surrounded by armored generals, draped in golden-scaled robes, his bearing awe-inspiring. That must be Emperor Changyi himself.

Though they were far apart, the emperor’s voice carried clearly across the execution grounds. At the sound of imperial command, the Xian Mountain officials and commonfolk alike dropped to their knees. The square fell into dead silence—only Fang Jingyu remained standing.

The emperor clapped his hands and laughed.

“The National Preceptor was corrupted by monstrous evil and had his form usurped by demons. Thanks to you exposing the truth in time, all has been revealed. I am much pleased.”

Fang Jingyu said nothing. The emperor clearly knew the Preceptor was a monster—yet still kept him in the Immortal Palace, indulging his atrocities. Now that the truth was out, he hid behind noble rhetoric to mask his past folly.

“But you, criminal,” said Emperor Changyi, “I’ve also heard that your crime is not simply hiding imperial relics, but being the late emperor’s surviving son, harboring rebellious intent—a far greater offense.”

At some point, a mass of armored soldiers had closed in around the high platform. Fang Jingyu, who had shouted earlier only to buy time, had never expected the emperor to plead his case. Now he scanned the troops, seeking a weak point in the defenses.

Then the emperor’s voice boomed again:

“My royal brother—the late Emperor Ji Zhi—scoured the land in search of Taoyuan Stones, drained the treasury, burdened the people, and became a tyrant condemned by all. People of Penglai, do you truly wish to protect the orphan of a cruel despot?”

His words rang like war drums, reverberating through the execution grounds. The people bowed lower still, not daring to lift their heads.

Fang Jingyu did not bow.

“Your Majesty, there is no evidence to prove I am Emperor Bai’s son.”

Suddenly, the wind howled like wolves. Northern gusts swept in from ten thousand miles away, tearing at the emperor’s dragon banner. He stood upon the tower like a looming mountain peak.

“There may be no evidence, but I am the witness!” Emperor Changyi’s cloudy eyes shone fiercely as they locked onto Fang Jingyu across the square.

“Though my eyesight fails me often, today it is clear. Criminal Fang Jingyu—your appearance is the very image of my royal brother in his youth!”

Fang Jingyu’s heart tightened. With those words, murmurs began to rise from the crowd.

From atop the tower, the emperor raised his arm and shouted:

“Xian Mountain officials! This man is the tyrant’s heir! If left alive, he will bring ruin upon Penglai—seize him!”

At once, drums thundered, bells rang, and the guards surged forward with shields and halberds, encircling Fang Jingyu atop the platform. He swung the National Preceptor’s severed head, flinging black blood in all directions. The blood hissed as it corroded iron and burned flesh, making the guards hesitate—but still, they surrounded him tightly.

Between the imperial entourage and the defending troops, nearly four thousand soldiers had assembled today. Fang Jingyu had hoped to take the Preceptor hostage and escape on horseback—but with the monster slain, that chance was gone. As the guards advanced step by step, and Yu Yin Guard approached with sword in hand, he gritted his teeth. He was truly trapped.

Suddenly, the cry of a horse rang out in the distance. Someone shouted:

“Make way! Move aside!”

The townspeople scrambled up from the ground in a panic, clearing a path. Two swift horses galloped through the chaos. On one black steed rode a red-clad girl, half her face covered by a cloth, pearl chain in hand, waving urgently to signal the crowd.

Reaching the wooden barricade, the red-clad girl tossed several lit firecrackers into the air and charged straight through.

“Out of the way! Your lady has arrived!” she shouted.

The firecrackers were harmless but loud, making the Xian Mountain officials flinch back instinctively. Seizing the moment, the red-clad girl spurred her horse into the square and yelled at the top of her lungs:

“Tight-lipped gourd, get on!”

It was Xiao Jiao! Fang Jingyu’s eyes lit up. That girl—lazy, gluttonous, and always sharp-tongued—was no villain. At the very least, she still cared about him.

Xiao Jiao lashed out with her pearl chain, knocking down a swath of Xian Mountain guards. As the tip of the chain flew toward him, Fang Jingyu caught it in one hand and leapt from the high platform, stepping across soldiers’ shoulders and backs before landing cleanly atop the black li horse.

“Thank you,” Fang Jingyu said.

Xiao Jiao hooked her chain, snatching Hanguang Sword from beside the National Preceptor’s corpse and reeling it in. She tossed it to Fang Jingyu.

“If you’re really thankful, you’ll owe me a dozen meat buns at every meal from now on!”

With her wielding the pearl whip and him guarding with blade drawn, the two cut a path of blood through the guards.

“We’re heading to Zhenhai Pass!” Fang Jingyu shouted.

Zhenhai Pass was the closest of the four to the execution grounds. Beyond the city wall was the Ming Sea Bridge that led to Yingzhou. Xiao Jiao nodded, and the two of them spurred their horses through the crowd.

But just then, a thunderous voice echoed from the tower above.

“Think you’ll escape from here? What a deluded dream.”

Emperor Changyi stood atop the city tower, and called,

“Yu Ji Guard.”

Seated beside the imperial throne was an elder with graying beard and leathery skin. He rose with a smile, revealing a massive frame like a wall of iron. He did not bow, only said calmly:

“Your servant is here.”

The emperor declared:

“The Tianfu Guard is dead. You are now my heart and sinew. Nine years ago, when you captured that false orphan, I was blinded by the Immortal Elixir and could not see his face. Though I was at fault, you and the Mohe Guard are not blameless. Go—capture that remnant. If alive, I shall reward you richly. If dead, your past sins will be forgiven.”

“As you command,” said the Yu Ji Guard.

He walked to the edge of the wall where the soldiers had already prepared climbing ropes. Smiling, he hefted the rope and asked the soldiers bracing it:

“Is it steady?”

They nodded.

“We’ll hold firm, don’t worry!”

The Yu Ji Guard chuckled.

“I only fear I’ll be too forceful and toss you all off the wall.”

Even before he finished speaking, he seized the rope and leapt. The soldiers immediately felt their arms wrenching—several shoulders were dislocated on the spot! The old man touched lightly on the wall like an eagle dancing along the cliffs. When he landed, the ground itself seemed to quake, sending a cloud of dust ten feet high into the air.

Xiao Jiao heard the tremor. Her horse neighed wildly, eyes filled with terror.

“Tight-lipped gourd! Run! The Yu Ji Guard’s coming!”

Fang Jingyu glanced back. The old man stood clad in red padded armor, calm and immovable like a mountain among the chaos. Fang Jingyu’s heart wavered. The Yu Ji Guard’s might was legendary in Penglai—said to move mountains and shatter stone. Was he, a mere ex-official, truly going to stand against this monster and four thousand soldiers?

But there was no time for doubt. The Yu Ji Guard had already seized the rope and whipped it forward like a tidal wave. With his tremendous strength, the rope tore straight from the tower and lashed forward like a long dragon, knocking loose whole rows of bricks and stirring up a blinding storm of dust. Xian Mountain officials leapt aside in fright. The two horses staggered and neighed as the rope narrowly missed.

When the dust settled, it revealed a massive trench carved into the earth. Fang Jingyu and Xiao Jiao were dumbfounded—if that blow had landed, they would’ve been pulp.

With bare hands alone, the Yu Ji Guard wielded the strength to tear apart stone. If he donned his infamous golden Tianshan armor, what kind of monster would he become?

They fled in panic, galloping as far from the old man as they could. But before they could get far, a new horror unfolded.

The Yu Ji Guard had walked to the high platform. First he waved off the other guards and the Yu Yin Guard, then bowed slightly, planting his fingers deep into the stone beneath him.

With a thunderous roar, he lifted the entire execution platform—dozens of times larger than himself—and hurled it forward.

It shot past them like a dark shadow blotting out the sky. The massive platform crashed to the ground ahead of them, gravel exploding like hail in every direction. Several commoners were crushed beneath it—screams of agony echoed in every direction.

Fang Jingyu turned and saw Xiao Jiao’s arm hanging limp and purple, her beaded chain nearly slipping from her fingers.

“What happened?” he asked.

Her face was pale and dripping with sweat.

“A stone hit my arm when that thing flew past… I think the bone’s broken.”

As she spoke, a massive silhouette emerged through the settling dust. The Yu Ji Guard strode toward them—calm, towering, unstoppable. He was a nightmare made flesh.

“Go first!” Fang Jingyu roared.

“I’ll hold him off and catch up later!”

Xiao Jiao clutched her arm, teeth clenched.

“Pah! I came to save you, and now you’re playing the hero? We go together or not at all!”

No sooner had she spoken than the Yu Ji Guard picked up several limp soldiers and, like throwing javelins, hurled them one after another.

Fang Jingyu dodged, but one soldier landed near him and died instantly—his skull shattered like a melon, blood and flesh spraying everywhere. Fang Jingyu quickly deflected the flying shards of armor with the flat of his blade—but even those small fragments nearly snapped the saber in two. Such was the monstrous strength of the Yu Ji Guard.

The dust fell again.

The Yu Ji Guard approached step by step—like a mountain come to life. He was only three hundred paces away now. The old man raised one hand, locked two fingers together, and took aim.

Too close. Far too close. Fang Jingyu’s heart pounded like a war drum.

He had seen the Yu Ji Guard unleash a finger strike at Zui Chun Garden—four hundred paces away—and still shatter an assassin’s bones and tendons. Now he was facing Penglai’s greatest martial might, the pinnacle of Xian Mountain’s Guards!

The Yu Ji Guard’s locked fingers were aimed squarely at him. Fang Jingyu frantically drew his sword to block. With a single flick, it was as if the heavens had collapsed. Hanguang trembled violently in his grip. The bones in his arm cracked and groaned, nearly snapping. A second flick came—this one veered slightly, grazing Xiao Jiao and knocking her from the saddle. She fell with a cry, vomiting blood. The third finger strike surged forth like a rampaging beast, slamming into Fang Jingyu and hurling him backward. His organs twisted and churned. He spat blood.

Three finger strikes—and both their lives were nearly forfeit. Fang Jingyu had been thrown from his horse, but he gritted his teeth, picked up Hanguang Sword, and forced himself to his feet, wiping blood from the corner of his lips.

The Yu Ji Guard emerged from smoke and wind, approaching step by step, an unstoppable force like a towering peak. Though the Xian Mountain guards feared striking by mistake and dared not approach, they still closed in from every direction.

A sense of despair descended like a handful of dust from the sky, smothering the flame of hope in Fang Jingyu’s chest. There was no escape. The heavens offered no path, the earth no refuge.

“Fang family brat… no, I suppose now you should be called the late emperor’s orphan.” The Yu Ji Guard smiled. “Langgan Guard risked everything to protect you, but it was all in vain. Penglai has no place for you. If you want justice, seek out King Yama in the Underworld.”

The old man raised his hand again, thick fingers locking into place, aiming at Fang Jingyu.

Fang Jingyu shielded the bleeding Xiao Jiao with his body. In that moment, it was as if he were back in the Fang estate nine years ago. Powerless before the Yu Ji Guard once more. He wondered: was Brother Minsheng also filled with such unwillingness when he walked the road to the afterlife?

Perhaps if he died here, he would meet Minsheng again beneath the Yellow Springs.

No—he didn’t want to die.

Though he wore a look of despair, his grip on Hanguang had tightened. Even if it meant being shattered, he would fight the Yu Ji Guard with all he had. He wanted to live!

Suddenly, Fang Jingyu sprang up with Hanguang Sword, slashing at the Yu Ji Guard. But the old man, seemingly expecting it, calmly smiled and caught the blade between two fingers, throwing Fang Jingyu to the ground. He drew back a fist that could pierce through flesh and bone—

—when suddenly, an eagle’s cry pierced the sky.

The shrill, sharp screech tore through the execution ground’s killing stillness. Wind whistled through the whistle-hole of an arrow, then burst out in a shriek. A single iron arrow broke through the formation, too fast for the Xian Mountain officials to react. A flash of cold light soared, striking the imperial dais and embedding firmly in the throne.

Panic broke out. Soldiers rushed to shield Emperor Changyi, drawing blades and shields. If that arrow had been off by even an inch—it would have taken the emperor’s head.

The Mohe Guard’s face turned deathly pale. For such an event to happen under his watch—he had failed to protect the emperor. After today, his title would likely be stripped, his household disgraced. He scrambled to inspect the arrow. It was buried deep. Even the combined strength of the Xian Mountain officials couldn’t pull it free.

There was a sigil on the arrow’s shaft. Under the light, it shone—a scarlet blossom in full bloom.

“Th-this is…” the Mohe Guard’s voice trembled as if he’d fallen into an abyss.

“…the ‘King Yama’s Whistling Arrow!’”

Instantly, chaos erupted across the execution grounds.

On the tower, the soldiers were paralyzed with terror, crowding tightly around the emperor. King Yama—whose arrows echoed across the borderlands—was here in Penglai?

“Protect the emperor!” came the shout. The Xian Mountain officials surged toward the tower, abandoning the criminals on the field.

Even the Yu Ji Guard was momentarily stunned, slowly lifting his head to look toward the arrow’s source. Seizing the opportunity, Fang Jingyu grabbed Xiao Jiao and rolled away, putting distance between them and the old man.

From the east, hoofbeats thundered. The people scattered. A rider appeared, bow in hand—a strange bone bow, carved from skeletal ivory, smooth and pale as mutton-fat jade. As he drew closer, the Yu Ji Guard caught sight of his form: robed in black like mourning, face hidden behind an iron demon mask that exposed only two piercing eyes—one pitch black, one blood-red.

The one who had come to heed the cry of the late emperor’s orphan—King Yama—had truly arrived.

“It’s King Yama!” gasped the people, stunned, but not afraid. The crowd parted like a receding tide. Amid the clamor, the masked rider stood alone like a falling star from the heavens. He gripped the bone bow, seven iron arrows in his fingers. Then came the sharp thunder of bowstrings—seven arrows shot like meteors.

The Yu Ji Guard’s smile faded. He reached out with bare hands and caught each one, but even so, the force pushed him half a step back. The “Seven Stars in a Row” was a deadly technique. Even the mighty Yu Ji Guard staggered under its weight.

The iron mask and deadly archery made him feel, for a moment, as if he were staring at an old comrade—the long-dead Tianfu Guard, lost to the Ming Sea.

Seizing that flicker of distraction, King Yama spurred his horse past. The black steed had returned, circling its master. Xiao Jiao, wounded, dragged herself onto its back.

King Yama rode up to Fang Jingyu and extended a hand.

Fang Jingyu looked up—and in that instant, he recognized the eyes behind the mask. One black as ink, the other red as blood. He smelled the faint fragrance of cardamom and incense. As if someone from a decade ago had crossed time to stand beside him once more.

Dawn was breaking. The sky lightened in the east. A solitary star hung above, casting clear light across the land. Beneath the heavens, the man smiled and said:

“King Yama has come to escort you, Your Highness. Will you ride with me through blood and blade?”

A feeling surged through Fang Jingyu’s heart—an unshakable certainty. That if he followed this person, no matter what trials lay ahead, he would gladly endure them. This was where their story began. From here, they would ride together, side by side, unafraid of distant lands or perilous seas.

Not a second’s hesitation—he reached out and, in the light of dawn, clasped that hand tightly.

“I will.”