Volume One: The Wild Child Chapter Sixty-Six: The Dawn of Reform

"Your blade is far too slow!" Chen Ziliang’s spear tip pressed once more against the battered saber. Watching Lin Changtian’s trembling wrist, he frowned. "All these days sparring—when have you ever shown any real spirit? What are you so preoccupied with, that you drift about in a daze from dawn till dusk? You ignore the matter of integrating the new recruits, show no opinion on quelling the northern bandits, and act more indolent than the most hands-off of commanders."

Lin Changtian let out a long breath, exhaling rings of mist as he stared absently at the ice flowers blooming on the tree.

He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in days.

His mind was consumed by the madness in Zhang Yi’s eyes before death—watching that bold hero throw himself upon another’s blade, only to summon his last ounce of strength and, before all present, loudly declare his "admiration" for Lin Changtian.

Absurdity—nothing more.

Who was this "admiration" meant for? Beneath the calm and the grudge, Lin Changtian also heard an unmistakable note of longing. Was it for worldly power left behind, or a true impulse of the heart at death’s door?

The first was plausible, the second laughable.

But Lin Changtian could not laugh. He had wrestled with this dilemma for days now.

The ice blossoms were about to melt.

Chen Ziliang withdrew his spear with a shake of his head, resigned, and turned to leave. "Ziliang, let’s practice once more." Chen Ziliang looked back, gripping his spear tightly. "Have you made up your mind?"

Leaning on his broken saber, Lin Changtian picked a lingering frost flower and tucked it into the snow at his feet, his posture unraveled and indistinct.

"The snow here is still thick by several feet. It should take its time melting," he said, straightening his body, the battered blade moving with him.

The two clashed beneath the ancient pines, their edge meeting and making the bones of winter shudder.

The spear held advantage in length, but the half-broken saber was undaunted. Chen Ziliang’s form shrank from the space of a room to a hair’s breadth away. His spear whirled faster and faster, a lament for a hundred birds, a phoenix rising, forcing Lin Changtian to reveal all his hidden moves—broad sweeps, sudden feints, a style faintly reminiscent of Yu Baili’s original blade technique.

In a single instant, as the spear tip darted past Lin Changtian’s heart, the edge of the battered saber was already at Chen Ziliang’s throat.

Blade yet to fall, spear yet to land.

"You overreached. In a real fight, this saber would have claimed the head of Chen Ziliang, mighty general of Mount Si," Lin Changtian said with a smile, withdrawing his blade. Chen Ziliang scratched his head, pointing at the spear’s edge where a faint blue light glimmered, and grinned at Lin Changtian like a child showing off a toy. "Changtian, in a real fight, the force on my spear’s tip would’ve pierced your chest, Commander Lin of Mount Si!"

Lin Changtian couldn’t help but laugh, feigning pride as he pointed at his broken saber, pursing his lips. "Why not mention my saber’s only half left?"

Chen Ziliang was dumbstruck, staring at his spear while Lin Changtian’s laughter echoed in the distance, already fading beyond the camp.

...

In the great camp of Mount Si, Lin Changtian draped in a pure white fur cloak, surveyed the assembled generals—familiar faces, new ones—his gaze finally resting on Qi Yong. "After absorbing Yishan’s forces, our army is at its peak. According to Elder Liu’s strategy, the first order of business is to sweep the southern bandits from the northern region, with Liu Er and Yong Chi’s faction as the main targets. Qi Yong, how go the recent battles?"

Qi Yong, summoned by Lin Changtian, leapt to his feet and saluted. "Reporting, Commander Lin! Mount Si is unlike elsewhere—fronted by Shen Yian, backed by Yu Baili, our lineage is pure frontier army. We have smashed forty-seven strongholds, bandits large and small fleeing at our approach. Only Liu Er and Yong Chi, relying on assets split from Yishan, continue to resist, but not for long. General Kuisheng has routed their vanguard and now encircles their main camp. Victory is within our grasp."

"And the other northern bandit chiefs—any movement?" Qi Yong hesitated, scratching his head. Xu Yong placed a hand on his shoulder and stepped in. "Changtian, Lin Yuan in the west and Cheng Yu in the east are quiet. But Ma Hui, to our direct north and bordering our lands, shows signs of moving south."

Lin Changtian tapped the table, noting Liu Qingshan dozing to one side, and hit upon an idea. He reached for the old man’s snowy beard, only to have his hand snatched by Liu Qingshan, who glared at him fiercely. "What, you idle commander, want to disturb Mount Si’s hardest worker at his rest?"

"How could I dare?" Lin Changtian bowed, continuing with a grin. "Elder Liu, you must have a plan in mind to sleep so soundly at council. Your voice is as vigorous as ever—hardly like a man in his twilight years! I wager our strapping men are no match for you. As they say, ‘the third spring comes early for the old’—your body’s still strong. Shall I find you a worthy widow from the village below? Though age brings frailty and it may be harder to... topple her, these are trifles. After all, nothing’s lovelier than a sunset glow. Let this be my filial offering—what say you?"

Laughter broke out among the men of Mount Si, but at a glance from Liu Qingshan, all fell silent, struggling to stifle their grins. Liu Qingshan stroked his beard, shot Lin Changtian a look, and brought his cane down hard on the young man’s backside. "Why not steal me a noble lady from Wenyuan Divine Continent, so I might see the elegance of society dames in my old age?"

Lin Changtian clutched his rear, begging for mercy, and as soon as the cane was lowered, he turned to the assembly with a roguish grin. "You heard him! When we march on Wenyuan Divine Continent, bring back all the noble widows you can find—the older the better—to wait on Elder Liu and give him a perfect twilight!"

The generals chuckled and voiced their assent. Liu Qingshan glared at Lin Changtian. "You bring them back to serve me, or have me serve them? Enough with your jests. As for Ma Hui, he’s no real threat. Whatever happens, Mount Si need not concern itself with him for now."

Lin Changtian let the mirth fade from his face, adopting a look of inquiry. "The southern northlands are weaker than the other three regions; resources are poorer. The others have towns—even major markets. Here, our largest settlements are mere villages, barely a few thousand souls. Personal valor may suffice in small skirmishes, but if it comes to armies, we can’t match their numbers."

Liu Qingshan yawned, gesturing at the sand table on the desk. "You’re sharp-tongued but still green as a commander. Look at the big picture. The southern northlands are barren—what do they really want here? If Ma Hui marches, Cheng Yu and Lin Yuan will close in from east and west. Don’t forget, those three are old rivals. When Yu Baili was alive they could cooperate, but if outside threats fade, their infighting will resume. Ma Hui’s territory borders all three, and if he dares make a move, he’ll soon be surrounded and crushed."

"By your logic, Mount Si just needs to lay low and build up, and I can go back to being a hands-off commander? So be it—let’s adjourn. I’ll play a few games of chess with Elder Liu and then duel Ma Hui in my dreams!"

Lin Changtian announced this with a straight face, heedless of the generals’ puzzlement, and waved them away.

Liu Qingshan shook his head, helplessly. "Little Lin, you know what I’m about to say, don’t you?" Lin Changtian’s expression grew serious as he took Liu Qingshan’s hand. "Yes, don’t worry, this time I won’t play Go as if it were Five-in-a-Row!" "And? If you try to be clever again, I’ll stripe your backside with this cane right here!"

Lin Changtian sobered, his demeanor calm. "You mean the reconciliation between the old and new factions of Mount Si." Liu Qingshan nodded, his brow furrowed. "Mount Si’s original officers are all frontier army—disciplined, proud. They look down on the bandits from other strongholds. Qi Yong and Lu Liang, though less capable than Zhang Yi, have never accepted a bandit leader. Lately, new faces crowd the mountain. Even in reports, Qi Yong can’t help but boast of his ‘frontier blood’—the disdain runs deep. They think even if the bandits are driven off, it’s just another Zhang Yi in charge, nothing more. If this goes on, disaster will follow! Do you remember the Lin clan’s chaos after taking over the central north?"

How could Lin Changtian forget? But for that bitter fruit sown by his own clan, the four great legions might have ground Yu Zhou City to dust. "Then what do you suggest? Should I impose unity by command, or divide and rule?"

"The best way is to root out prejudice entirely, or at least stop them from looking down on their own comrades. But winning hearts is no easy task; opportunity and prestige are both essential."

"That’s nothing to worry about. Whether bandit or frontier, I trust I can keep them in hand."

"Oh? So you already have a plan. Then I’ll say no more," Liu Qingshan chuckled, stroking his beard as he left the tent.

Lin Changtian stretched, tossed more logs on the brazier, and murmured to himself, "These northerners—once you’ve beaten them, everything else is easy."

...