Time flies like an arrow; days and months pass like a shuttle. In the blink of an eye, twelve years had gone by.
The infant once swaddled in cloth had grown day by day into an ever more endearing child. Now at just twelve years old, his peerless beauty had spread far and wide—nearly everyone within a thousand li knew of him.
Matchmakers came one after another to Shuang Feixue’s door, some pleading on behalf of their daughters, others seeking to take him as a concubine. The numbers were countless.
Though Shuang Feixue politely refused each time, citing his young age, the proposals never ceased.
Among them were officials and local tyrants. Fortunately, the Zhang family had some connections at court, enough to keep these wolves and tigers at bay. Otherwise, who knew what misfortune might befall her Nanxi.
As for why the Zhang family tolerated such trouble.
The reason was simple: they were among the suitors themselves. The eldest Zhang daughter was already sixteen and engaged to the young son of the local county magistrate.
But the younger daughter was different—she was about Nanxi’s age and still unbetrothed. The Zhang family had naturally set their sights on him.
For the Zhangs, the eldest daughter’s marriage was meant to secure political backing through official ties. The younger daughter, however, was to safeguard the family business—best to marry a local man who could be brought into the household.
And Nanxi, born with beauty that could topple cities, became the perfect target.
The Zhang family had watched him grow up. The boy showed great promise in commerce, as well as in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. His only flaw was reading too much—not just the Four Books and Five Classics, but even unorthodox poetry and novels, which made him seem a bit vulgar.
To the Zhang family, though, these were trivial issues. Compared to that face which could ruin nations, what did such things matter?
Moreover, Nanxi had inherited Shuang Feixue’s secret martial arts manuals. Marrying him would be equivalent to claiming her unparalleled skills for the family.
Shuang Feixue naturally understood the Zhang family’s intentions. Yet over the years, their kindness toward her had been immense.
Out of her own conscience, she could not act against them—unless it came to the very last resort.
In these chaotic times, having a place where she and Nanxi could live in peace and warmth was a rare stroke of fortune. No matter how high one’s martial arts, they could not be eaten as food.
In the more than thirty years since her birth, Shuang Feixue had slacked in her training for the first time. The former strongest under heaven now carried a bit of softness around her belly.
She had begun to fear—fear that if she died one day, what would become of Nanxi? She had many enemies. In her youth, fueled by hot-blooded passion, she had provoked trouble without regard for consequences.
Though her beauty remained untouched by age, her body clearly told the once-peerless woman that she had lost that boundless vitality. She was starting to rust.
Her only wish now was to wait until the boy she loved grew up, then whisk him away to wander the jianghu together—to become a pair of heroic lovers despite their twenty-odd years’ age difference.
But it was only a wish. In these turbulent times, how could such good fortune exist? Moreover, Shuang Feixue could see it clearly: the child would never harbor those feelings for her.
Nanxi’s outlook far surpassed that of children his age—a result of all the romance novels Shuang Feixue had let him read.
Her original intent had been to spark dreams of becoming an immortal couple by showing him stories filled with love, choosing tales centered on maternal or master-disciple roles.
But the plan had succeeded only one part in ten.
Nanxi showed no interest whatsoever in immortals or romance. Instead, he dreamed of becoming a great hero.
And to make matters worse, he possessed extraordinary talent in martial arts. Shuang Feixue had never seen a twelve-year-old reach the acquired realm. In a few more years, he might even surpass her, the former strongest under heaven.
Setting aside matters of marriage and love for now, their very situation was fraught with obstacles.
Their life was unstable—like a boulder perched on a cliff’s edge. Without the Zhang family’s protection and concealment, the slightest misstep would send them plummeting into an abyss.
Shuang Feixue knew exactly why her enemies had not yet found her.
In the second year after she left the Daoist sect, the State Preceptor of Great Liang had used the charge of “violating the ban on martial heroism” to purge every sect and faction within Great Liang’s borders. Those who refused to submit became homeless dogs; even those who surrendered fared little better, barely scraping by.
All their martial arts manuals were confiscated and stored in the Secretariat and the Hanlin Academy, while their properties were wholly absorbed into the national treasury.
The once-mighty disciples of great sects, the famous heroes and bandits of the jianghu—all now huddled like stray dogs in this barbarian land of Great Zhou.
Among them were her enemies, and not a few. In her time, Shuang Feixue had offended more than half the jianghu of Great Liang. With Nanxi’s existence added to the mix, those people would gladly tear her to shreds.
While Shuang Feixue worried about the future, Nanxi on the other side had far fewer troubles.
At this moment, he was in the Zhang estate’s rear courtyard, “playing” with the young Zhang daughter—though in truth, it was only the girl named Zhang Lianwei pestering him.
In the back garden, two small figures sat quietly.
“Big Brother, stop teasing the fish. It’s so boring. Mother just bought me a whole box of new toys—let’s play together!”
The slightly smaller figure, clad in a red fox-fur coat, crouched behind the other. Her elbows rested on her knees, chubby cheeks—reddened from the cold—propped up by tender little hands. She swayed the two small buns atop her head as she gazed at the boy she adored, watching him poke at the colorful koi with a wooden stick.
Zhang Lianwei had once liked those little fish herself, but whenever they stole the boy’s attention, she instantly hated the wretched water bugs.
Compared to this wealthy young miss, the boy’s clothing was far thinner and plainer—just a red cotton jacket. Fortunately, his natural beauty saved him from looking shabby: jade-like face, vermilion lips, eyes bright with charm—a face prettier than most girls’, topped with white hair tied like a small whisk.
The boy replied with faint impatience.
“Shoo, shoo. Stop bothering me. Go do your homework. If the tutor finds out tomorrow that you haven’t touched it, you’ll be in for Aunt Zhang’s ruler.”
At those words, the girl’s already plump cheeks grew even rounder. She pouted in dissatisfaction and began to fuss.
“I don’t want to! I’m not doing those stupid lessons. I want Big Brother to play with me, or I’ll cry!”
Hearing this, Nanxi suddenly grew stern. He scolded her sharply.
“No crying. You’re a girl—you should have dignity. You mustn’t cry over a man like me. If you don’t cry this time, I’ll play with you.”
The girl instantly switched from tears to laughter.
“Really? You promise, Big Brother?”
“I promise. Truer than pure gold.”
“Then what should we play?”
Wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, Nanxi smiled faintly.
“We’ll play heroes of the jianghu.”