Chapter Forty-Eight: A Beauty’s Invitation
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The steward who guided them through the rear courtyard of the Bamboo Garden Villa was an elderly man in his sixties. He led the guests through pavilions and gardens, stopping before a row of bamboo cottages.
“Please, sirs, rest here for a while. I will have someone prepare your baths at once,” the steward said as he opened the door to one of the rooms and ushered them inside before hurrying away.
The guest room was simply furnished—a bed, a table, several bamboo chairs—but the spaciousness gave it an airy, comfortable feel.
“How strange, how very strange…” Zuo Qingcheng muttered repeatedly, his expression suddenly sharpening. “You two, stand guard outside.”
“Did you notice anything unusual?” Ye Ziyin asked in a low voice.
“Not exactly, but this Bamboo Garden Villa is no ordinary place. The warriors are many and well-trained, the master’s background shrouded in mystery. I fear there may be hidden dangers here, and that things may not be in our favor.”
“You’re right, and more importantly, this manor stands on the border between two nations and yet remains untouched by either army. The reason for this is quite intriguing. Xia Baizhu is no ordinary man; his cultivation is deep, even more unfathomable than Mu Hong’s. And another thing: they recognized the Red Wind horse, which means they’ve seen Mu Hong before, but they refuse to reveal their true identities. There must be deception involved. Tonight, we must all be on our guard,” Lin Feng said gravely, glancing at the other two.
“Fine. After I have bathed and changed, I’ll stand watch outside your room,” Zuo Qingcheng snorted. “Let’s see what tricks these people try to play.”
Ye Ziyin said, “That won’t be necessary. Liu Yun and the others are here; we’ll be fine. I don’t think the master of this place is a villain. He seems sincere—perhaps you’re being overly suspicious.”
Lin Feng smiled. “Ziyin, you mustn’t judge people solely by their appearance. If good and evil could be read from a man’s face, there would be few villains in this world. Let us rest here for a day. I suspect Che Zhonglou will come looking for us soon, and when he does, we’ll use him to break through Zhen’nan Pass.”
“Very well, we’ll do as you say, Brother Lin.” As they were discussing their plans, footsteps sounded outside, and the steward could be heard calling out softly, “Be careful, don’t spill that.”
Soon, the steward reappeared to invite them to bathe and change. The group exchanged glances and went to their respective rooms. After days of travel, braving the elements, they’d had little chance for a hot bath. Lin Feng, feeling somewhat relaxed, led Wuzhui into his room.
“Please allow me to help you change, young master!” Inside, two maids stood by a large bamboo tub filled with steaming water. All the necessary items were neatly arranged: towels, soapberries, silk sponges, a basin of hot water, and two warm pitchers.
What a difference in a wealthy household—even bathing comes with an attendant. Lin Feng’s cheeks colored slightly and he waved them away. “You may go, I’ll manage on my own.”
The two hesitated but replied crisply, “Yes, sir.”
Once the door was closed, Lin Feng sighed in relief. He turned to see Wuzhui’s crafty eyes and laughed. “Want a bath too?”
“You go ahead and enjoy yourself, big brother. I hate water,” Wuzhui grumbled, curling up in a corner and soon snoring loudly.
Once clean and changed into fresh clothes, Lin Feng stepped outside. He glanced around—Zuo Qingcheng was already sitting, eyes closed, outside Ziyin’s room. The other two rooms were dark, their candles extinguished; Liu Yun and Liao Kai must have gone to bed.
The night’s events had clearly worn them out, but Lin Feng was wide awake. He replayed his duel with Mu Hong in his mind, sensing a new understanding. On the battlefield, Mu Hong’s strength was clearly inferior, yet he had nearly been invincible, relying not only on his uncanny halberd technique but also on his fierce, decisive aura. That “momentum,” combined with his steed, made him nearly unstoppable. Mu Hong’s prowess was due to his Red Wind horse and enchanted armor, pushing his power beyond ordinary limits.
“Exactly! The great generals of old depended on divine horses and weapons, uniting man, horse, and spear into one. That’s how they achieved unimaginable offensive power—the legendary feat of a single warrior holding a pass against ten thousand foes.”
Having realized this, Lin Feng’s mind opened up. He looked up and saw he had wandered deep into the garden. Moonlight peeked through the clouds, illuminating the unopened buds with a pure, snowy light.
“The master of this manor is a man of refined taste. To tend such a beautiful estate, he can’t be all that bad. Perhaps I am worrying too much,” Lin Feng chuckled at himself. With two or three hours left until dawn, he settled in a pavilion to meditate.
At daybreak, two chestnut horses galloped up from outside the mountain. The riders, clad in black, rode straight to the main hall, where Xia Baizhu and his daughter quickly appeared from the rear courtyard.
“Wei San, Wei Jiu—what news?” Xia Baizhu demanded as he entered.
“Master, the guard commander at Weihu Pass, Mu Hong, was slain last night. When we arrived, the place was in chaos. We questioned a soldier and learned that demons fought above the pass last night, and then vanished without a trace.”
“Is that so? Excellent, wonderful news!” Xia Baizhu exclaimed. “Wei San, take Daoli and ride to Quhuai to report this to His Highness. Wait, I’ll write a letter for you to deliver as well.” Overjoyed, he turned to go to his study, but then remembered something. “Tong’er, go and find out more about Young Master Lin. If necessary, treat him with sincerity.”
“Yes, Father.” Xia Tong hesitated briefly, her heart stirred.
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…
Deep in the rear gardens of the Bamboo Garden Villa, groves of Si Xiang bamboo swayed, fragrant and lush, their blade-like leaves sharp as knives. On a clearing beside the bamboo, Lin Feng, dressed in white, was up with the dawn, practicing his Pear Blossom Spear with fluid, shadowy movements.
“The spear is lifeless, but man is alive. To unite man, spear, and horse, one must first become one with the spear, then with the horse!”
“Mastery of the spear is not achieved in a single day—it takes constant practice. In time, one will reach perfection. There’s no use rushing.”
With these thoughts turning in his mind, Lin Feng’s movements became even more spirited.
With a sudden thrust, his “Dragon Emerging from Water” pierced the bamboo grove, the sharp crackle echoing as it split a row of Si Xiang bamboo.
“You have a refined taste, Young Master Lin—to be practicing arms at dawn, truly befitting a hero of the martial world.” The voice was soft and melodious. Xia Tong stepped out from the garden path, her presence instantly outshining the blossoming flowers.
“It’s you, Miss Xia.” Lin Feng flushed slightly, bowing in apology. “I’m afraid I damaged some of your bamboo by accident. My apologies.”
She laughed. “Your martial skills are remarkable, sir. If the bamboo stands in your way, there’s no blame. But I’m curious—where did you learn this spear art?”
“This is the Zhengyang Spear technique. Why, are you interested in spear arts, Miss Xia?” Lin Feng asked warily, raising his head.
Xia Tong giggled, raising her slender, green sword. “We Dream Liang folk love riding, archery, swords at our waist and iron bows on our backs—but we’re hopeless with spears. I’m just curious. Last night, I saw how magnificent your Red Wind horse was. I couldn’t sleep, so I came to see you early, hoping I might ride your steed—if you’d allow it?”
Lin Feng relaxed. “Of course. But the horse is spirited; do be careful.”
“Then, would you accompany me to the stables?” Xia Tong smiled radiantly, making it impossible for Lin Feng to refuse.
“Certainly—after you.” He gestured politely.
They walked together toward the outer courtyard. The left path led to the servants’ quarters and kitchens, the main avenue to the stables and animal pens, all surrounded by flowers, bamboo, and trees. The stone path stretched for a hundred paces before opening into a broad space. Two neat rows of stables stood facing east, and yet there was none of the usual animal stench.
Surprised, Lin Feng asked, “Miss Xia, how do you keep so many animals—and yet it’s as clean as living quarters?”
Xia Tong smiled mysteriously. “Horses have their own preferences. If you guide them well, provide good feed, let them rest and sleep properly, and take meticulous care of them, they develop good habits. Then, naturally, it isn’t dirty or messy.”
“I see!”
“So even horse-keeping has its subtleties—understanding their nature, working with their inclinations. It seems there’s profound mystery in all things,” Lin Feng mused as Xia Tong led out the Red Wind horse.
Clad in green with a jade sword, a fine steed at her side, the morning glow around her, she was breathtakingly beautiful—so much so he was momentarily speechless.
In daylight, the Red Wind horse’s imposing stature was evident: nearly ten feet at the shoulder, fifteen feet long, every movement graceful yet powerful, its mane like a lion’s and coat a deep crimson, exuding majesty.
Xia Tong’s slender figure beneath the horse only enhanced her presence, giving her a heroic elegance.
“Young Master Lin, shall we ride together?” she asked, her voice soft and alluring in the gentle morning sun.
“Ah—no, no, I think you should ride it alone,” Lin Feng stammered.
A strange look flashed in Xia Tong’s eyes and she smiled, “There are other fine horses in the stable. Let me pick one for you, and we can ride out together. Horses, like people, need daily exercise.”
“Very well. Thank you, Miss Xia.” Lin Feng took the reins, watching as Xia Tong went to the second row of stables.
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Steadying himself, he patted Red Wind’s broad back and murmured, “You’d better behave today—don’t try to throw anyone, or you’ll be sorry.”
The Red Wind horse snorted loudly, its eyes bright with spirit.
Xia Tong soon emerged, leading a white horse nearly as fine as Red Wind, though a little smaller.
“This is Delu. Not as rare as Red Wind, but still a remarkable steed. Please, Young Master Lin.”
“A fine horse! I would never have guessed your Bamboo Garden Villa kept such treasures,” Lin Feng sincerely praised.
She laughed. “Are you suggesting my family doesn’t deserve such a horse?” They walked side by side, her tone light.
“No, not at all—you misunderstand. I only meant that for both Delu and Red Wind to be here is an extraordinary thing,” he quickly explained.
Her laughter tinkled, and together they led the horses out the main gate, where they encountered a patrol of villa guards. Xia Tong asked for two large bows, handing one to Lin Feng.
“There are many wild beasts in the mountains. If we come across any, perhaps we can hunt them.”
“Of course!” Lin Feng replied, though inwardly he despaired—he could barely manage archery, and had only begun riding the night before.
They mounted up. To Lin Feng’s surprise, both horses stood calm and obedient.
Xia Tong rode ahead, Lin Feng following, the dew sparkling as they galloped toward the forested mountains.
“Hyah!” Spear, horse, iron bow—riding with a beautiful companion, Lin Feng felt an indescribable freedom. After several miles he could not help but throw his head back and let out a long, jubilant cry.
Xia Tong glanced back, laughing, her voice ringing clear as thunder. With a shout, she urged Red Wind into a full gallop, and in a flash, vanished into the woods.
Spurred by the challenge, Lin Feng squeezed his legs, shook the reins, and brandished his spear, sending pear blossom strikes into the wind.
The mountain path was long and narrow, trees flashing by on either side, his clothes whipping in the wind, his body seeming to lighten with speed.
Delu, it seemed, knew the mountain paths well, taking turns smoothly without need of direction, swift as the wind.
“Ah! There’s even a spear rack on the saddle—how thoughtful,” Lin Feng noted.
He pressed on, rounding several bends, until at last Xia Tong’s figure appeared before him atop a boulder on the mountain peak. Her green-clad silhouette, hair streaming, steed standing proud amid the dawn’s glow, was a vision of fresh beauty.
“Hyah!” Elated, Lin Feng spurred his horse up to the summit.
“Young Master Lin, look there,” Xia Tong said, gesturing with her whip.
Lin Feng followed her gaze and was instantly awestruck by the scene before him.
A thousand horses galloping, surging like a living tide!