Chapter 115: then translation of title

These few Mongol soldiers had previously been courteous to Feng Yi, because Hubie revered Confucius and had always been seeking talented Han people.

Seeing Feng Yi's slender build and scholarly appearance, plus the bitter cold weather where he wore only a single green robe, he was clearly no ordinary person—yet unexpectedly he directly uttered the three words "Hubie".

Upon hearing that, the man immediately snapped, "How dare you, a Han dog, speak the Fourth Prince's name?"

Nowadays Mongols look down on Han people altogether; even if a northern Han has surrendered, they may speak politely on the surface but in their hearts most still call them Han dogs.

As for southern Han people, they are simply southern barbarians.

But Feng Yi was a malicious guest at the door; he had merely wanted to confirm whether Hubie was present. Now, after sizing up the situation, he knew Hubie must be in the camp and laughed, "You barbarians truly have no idea of life or death!"

Saying this, he reached out and seized the man's throat, gave a light twist—with a muffled thud mixed with the sound of breaking bones—the Mongol soldier's eyes bulged and he collapsed dead.

"Bold!"

The other three shouted, drew their knives and leveled their spears, and lunged at Feng Yi to slash and stab.

Feng Yi didn't even look, he swung a palm; with a series of clangs, a spear snapped into several pieces in his hand, its force undiminished, wrapped in inner power, it shot forth like a fierce arrow.

With a swish-swish-swish, it penetrated the three men's bodies, and they thudded to the ground.

This scene immediately caused an uproar among the Mongol soldiers, new recruits, and even their families.

Some Han people turned ashen; Mongols now wished they could walk sideways, for someone to dare kill a Mongol soldier before their camp—if not witnessed personally, who would believe it?

Suddenly someone shouted in Mongolian, "Rebellion!"

At this moment the Mongol troops were already alarmed; a hundred-man unit armed with weapons surged out from both sides of the camp gate.

The centurion brandished his lance, spurred his horse, and galloped out; seeing his comrades' gruesome deaths, he was shocked and angry, shouting, "Where did this Han dog come from, tired of living?"

This man was exceptionally brave, a famed warrior of the Mongol army; he spurred his horse, brandished his lance, and thrust straight at Feng Yi's face.

Feng Yi gave a faint smile, casually seized the spear; in an instant the centurion felt unable to advance or retreat, the man borrowing the horse's strength, the horse borrowing the man's—what tremendous force! He was shocked in his heart: "A Han dog, small in stature, how can his strength be so great…"

In the blink of an thought, Feng Yi gave a loud shout, struck out with his left palm, and jerked his right arm.

With a plop, the horse collapsed to the ground without a single whinny.

The rider on horseback could not hold onto the lance; he suddenly soared like riding clouds and mist, rising seven or eight zhang high, feeling the wind howl past his ears, unable to keep his composure, he wailed in anguish.

Who would have thought Feng Yi swayed, seizing the moment as the man landed, he hooked the spear shaft onto the man's belt and flung him over his head.

In an instant everyone erupted in cheers, even the Mongols alike.

They most admire warriors; Feng Yi's divine skill was such that even enemies could not help but admire him, all thinking, "I never expected there to be such a person among the Han!"

Nevertheless, admiration aside, the bond of compatriots weighed heavier; naturally they sought to fell Feng Yi to avenge their brothers. Amid shouts, the hundred-man unit formed up and, weapons in hand, charged forward.

Feng Yi gave a faint smile, hands on hips, and said, "Hubie, hear me true—Feng Yi is here; do you have the guts to come out and meet me?"

Although his tone was calm, he exerted his full inner power, his voice ringing like metal and jade, carrying for several li, suppressing all other sounds.

If that shout had been in Mongolian, the Mongol soldiers might have instinctively halted, but he spoke in Chinese; the Mongols charging at him had no idea what he said and continued to thrust their spears.

Feng Yi swung his arm, and the centurion was instantly flung from the spear shaft; only a few 'thuds' were heard, and several men turned into rolling gourds.

But spears came thrusting from all directions, and several had already pierced Feng Yi's front chest and back.

All that could be heard was a tinkling like jade and metal striking, clear and pleasant; it felt as if they had not struck flesh but some immense force was transmitted, their weapons could not be held, they were shaken upward, moreover they spat blood and cried out in anguish, falling face up, forming a circle upright, an indescribably strange and grim scene.

The Mongol soldiers had been about to launch wave after wave of attacks, but this sight left them stunned; it seemed utterly inhuman, and for a moment their hearts turned cold, their courage fled, their souls scattered, and they all stopped in their tracks.

Someone murmured, "Demonic sorcery!"

"This is demonic sorcery!"

What in the world could make a sharp spear unable to pierce? Aside from attributing it to demonic sorcery, how else could it be explained? Feng Yi's reason for pulling off his mask and directly calling out Hubie was nothing else but to deliberately cause trouble.

The Mongols have destroyed countless nations, their weapons exceedingly sharp; nowadays most Han people fear foreign tribes from the bottom of their hearts.

He precisely wanted to make a scene before the enlistees and their families, to display his personal martial prowess and dampen Mongol vigor. It would also let the Han know that the Mongols are not stronger than the Han.

But he well knew that one person's strength could not oppose a great army; after one round, another would follow, and his stamina would eventually run out—killing with blades and spears, the Mongol soldiers would not be frightened.

Thus he needed to do something beyond everyone's comprehension, to add a touch of mythic color to himself, so that this trip would not be in vain.

After all, rigidity cannot last long—whether for himself or the Mongol army; they suffer a major setback and will also grow fearful! Therefore, facing incoming blades, he neither dodged nor blocked, using the black silkworm armor's imperviousness to weapons and his deep inner power to rebound and shock the foe to death.

Of course, without such treasure armor, he would not dare to play like that.

Because even if his inner energy were profound and he had mastered weapon‑impervious external training, he still would not dare to simultaneously withstand so many sharp weapons head‑on.

Even so, being pierced by seven or eight spears at once, that sharp pain still made Feng Yi's body ache and his breath uneven. But these people had no idea of the subtlety involved; they dared not continue, and after he drew a breath of true qi, he returned to normal.

Suddenly a shout rose from the Mongol ranks: "It's Feng Yi!" In an instant the word spread among the Mongol soldiers, faces full of panic, they all cried, "Feng Yi! Feng Yi has come!"

While shouting, they retreated in all directions, front and rear in disorder, east and west toppled; even the newly enlisted soldiers and civilians joined in shouting "Feng Yi!" The sound rose and fell like waves.

To speak frankly, Feng Yi's reputation for assassinating Mongol officials had long shaken the world.

But in the past, killers did not leave their names; everyone had heard of such deeds, yet no one knew exactly who did them.

But after Feng Yi's battle with the Golden Wheel National Master, although the Golden Wheel tried to seal the news, his two disciples—one dead, one captured—Feng Yi nevertheless departed unscathed; many witnessed it, rumors could not be contained, and the story spread without legs. Feng Yi also killed the eldest son of Yelu Chucai, Yelu Zhu, and publicly declared his name was Feng Yi.

At last this Mongol‑slayer had a name; the Mongol authorities issued a wanted portrait and offered a reward of ten thousand taels for his capture.

But in those days, trying to match a person to a wanted portrait was actually not easy.

Thus just now, as Feng Yi walked past ordinary folk, they did not recognize that this was the worth‑a‑fortune wanted criminal.

Yet the Mongols' action inadvertently boosted his fame; ordinary folk and Mongol soldiers alike are extremely superstitious, and through hearsay it is inevitable that falsehoods multiply, turning Feng Yi into a godlike figure.

Some say he can fly a sword a thousand li to take a head, which is why officials in Shaanxi have been dying one after another.

After all, brave Han are not only Feng Yi; others also occasionally assassinate Mongol officials. Since Feng Yi's lowest‑rank victims are county magistrates, if the dates of those killings coincide with Feng Yi's, even if they are hundreds of li apart, the blame is laid on his head.

Some also say he possesses boundless strength, others claim he is impervious to weapons. Though most here are Han and have not seen Feng Yi, they have heard these legends.

Now seeing Feng Yi fell a horse with a single palm and shocked several to death, it is indeed boundless strength and weapon‑imperviousness; under such legends, their gall has already burst.

Although the Mongol army is invincible, the principle that rigidity cannot last holds, sharpness is easily broken; once they encounter something beyond their comprehension, they lack a spirit of unyielding perseverance.

After all, the feat of a spear piercing the body yet not entering is something even the Golden Wheel National Master, who could suppress ten thousand men, could not achieve.

Upon hearing another cry of "Feng Yi," everyone thought: "Is it him? He even killed such a high‑ranking official—what am I?"

Mongol soldiers, though brave, are even more superstitious than the Han; from top to bottom they constantly chant "Eternal Heaven." Given this mindset, who could not be fearful and startled?

Feng Yi just thought of his own reputation, which would definitely provoke a strong reaction from everyone, so he revealed his true face.

So that everyone would know, Feng Yi, who looks like he can't shoulder a burden and is as fragile as a weakling, is also someone you Mongols, who are blockheads, cannot capture. Spreading such deeds and then fostering them a bit will definitely be useful for stirring up Han resistance against the Mongols.

Moreover, Feng Yi is very slippery; standing at the edge of the camp, where archers can't easily shoot and a large cavalry force surrounds him, he can immediately seize a horse and flee, disappearing into the deep mountains and forests, becoming the hunter. So don't think that just because the Mongols have tens of thousands of troops, he would be the slightest bit nervous.

At that moment, only the sound of the bugle and the drum were heard ringing together; after three rounds of drumming, the bugle stopped.

All the soldiers and their families fell completely silent, then they heard a burst of hoofbeats as a troop of horsemen galloped out of the camp.

Each rider wore gold-inlaid leather armor, head covered with a soft purple sable cap, men like tigers, horses like dragons, vigorous spirit, their whistles raising wind.

The Mongol soldiers at the camp gate spread to both sides; the cavalry troop came to a distance of several zhang from Feng Yi, the leader pulled the reins to halt his horse, raised his hand, and the troop stopped, splitting to both sides.

Only two riders approached slowly; the person on the left wore a black sable fur cloak, about twenty years old, with a broad face and large ears, deep-set eyes, handsome appearance, and a lofty bearing.

The person riding alongside him was an old man, already advanced in years, with a black beard and long face, yet his smile was round and cheerful, his whole person emanating harmony.

Xiaoxiangzi, Nomoxing, Yin Kexi, Ma Guangzuo, Yelu Qi and his sister, etc., like stars surrounding the moon, encircled the two and came forward slowly.

Feng Yi knew the young rider must be Huobulie; he didn't recognize the older one, but since Yelu Qi and his sister were present, he must be the chancellor Yelu Chucai, and he thought to himself: "Huobulie and Yelu Chucai share the same political views, so they are on the same side."

He glanced at Yelu Qi, thinking this guy might really be an opportunist; he thought that when the Mongol dowager empress and Mongke successively held power, Yelu Chucai lost influence, Huobulie's campaign against the Song was unfavorable, and he himself was hard-pressed, yet he had not been ordered to arrest Yelu Chucai's family; after Huobulie ascended the throne, Xiangyang fell.

While Feng Yi was pondering, Yelu Qi said: "Fourth Lord, Father, this person is Feng Yi."

Feng Yi had just been sizing up Huobulie and Yelu Chucai; the other side had surely not been lacking in consideration either, but seeing Feng Yi's handsome features, pearl-like radiance and jade-like luster, his sash fluttering, he was truly unbearably suave.

Both had long heard of his name; seeing him, he didn't look like a martial-arts hero at all, but rather like a scholar.

But seeing him standing alone before the Mongol camp, he exuded an indescribable calm and composure; such bearing is not something ordinary people can possess, showing that the rumors are not false—this person indeed has the demeanor of a top-tier master. Yelu Yan felt her heart leap, her cheeks flushed, and she felt both joy and anger: "Last time I didn't notice how handsome this person is; why did he kill my elder brother?"

Nomoxing and the others gazed at Feng Yi, their eyes shining, as if they had seen prey.

Huobulie lightly lifted the reins, the horse stepped forward two paces, and said: "Hero Feng's reputation, I have long heard of it. By rights, since you have come here today, I, as the host, should set a banquet to entertain you, fulfilling the duty of a host, which is the proper way to behave."

But if we did that, you would surely suspect I harbor ill intentions toward you, and you wouldn't enjoy the fine wine, so let's skip the formalities.

Huobulie, ordered to take the southern lands of the Great Song, had been in the Central Plains for a long time, inclined toward Han customs, daily associating with Confucian scholars, reading classics and studying books, extensively hiring martial-arts experts, making friends with guests, and planning the southern campaign against the Song; thus his spoken Chinese is very fluent.

Feng Yi smiled lightly and said calmly: "Your Lordship speaks correctly."

Huobulie asked: "Sir, what brings you to see me?"

Feng Yi did not answer, glanced at Huobulie, then shifted his gaze back and forth across Yelu Chucai's face.

Yelu Chucai stroked his beard and smiled: "Master Feng, what are you looking at me for?"

Feng Yi smiled: "I came today merely to broaden my horizons by seeing the Mongols' greatest hero, a mighty champion; of course I couldn't help but take a good look!"

Huobulie and Yelu Chucai exchanged a glance.

Huobulie laughed: "Chancellor Yelu is our Great Mongol's chancellor; naturally he is a great hero and champion."

Feng Yi smiled: "Fourth Lord, your appearance is extraordinary, your heroic spirit bursting forth, your wisdom exquisite, your talents and strategy grand; you are the Mongols' greatest champion, and with Chancellor Yelu, the foremost hero, assisting you, to seize the world and ascend to the supreme position is merely a matter of time; I hereby offer my congratulations first."

He projected this sentence with inner energy, so that everyone inside and outside the camp heard it clearly; anyone who understood Chinese was instantly stunned.

Yelu Chucai couldn't help but feel a chill, shaking his head with a wry smile; in the past he would naturally have dismissed it, but now the situation is delicate.

After Genghis Khan died, his third son Ögedei succeeded him; Ögedei ruled as Great Khan for thirteen years before dying, after which Empress Naimachi assumed regency.

Chancellor Yelu Chucai was an elder statesman of three reigns and a founding-merit minister; whenever the empress's measures were wrong, he constantly offered loyal and frank advice.

The empress saw that he constantly obstructed her edicts, naturally becoming angry, but because he held high rank and prestige, and what he said was all sound reasoning, she could not easily move against him.

Yelu Chucai knew he had offended the empress, putting his whole family's lives at grave risk; he first sent his eldest son away, then submitted a memorial stating that the Central Plains' Henan region was unsettled, requiring a minister to be sent to pacify it, and requested permission to go himself.

The empress was delighted, thinking the farther this person went the better, to avoid daily annoyance in her sight; she immediately approved the memorial.

Thus Yelu Chucai took his second son Yelu Qi and third daughter Yelu Yan, leaving Karakorum to avoid disaster; who would have thought his eldest son would also be slain by Feng Yi,

This time Huobulie, overseeing the southern campaign, also consulted him on state affairs; he could hardly ignore it, but hearing that Feng Yi had come to his door, and that his eldest son had been killed by him, he naturally wanted to meet him,

Who would have expected that Feng Yi's opening words would be an accusation of murderous intent!

To claim there are no spies of the empress in Huobulie's camp, he doesn't believe it, and Huobulie doesn't believe it either.

If these words spread, they could be big or small! Huobulie's eyes flickered, and he said lightly: "These words are over the top; I, the little prince, merely follow the orders of the empress dowager and the Great Khan—what claim do I have to being the foremost hero?"

Feng Yi gave a light smile, taking in their expressions; he thought darkly: "No matter how heavily you are guarded, even if I cannot kill you today, I will not let you have an easy time."

He knew killing Huobulie would be extremely difficult, but those in power most dread subordinates forming factions; with Huobulie's abilities plus Yelu Chucai, who would not be wary? If Huobulie sought self-preservation, mishandling could provoke internal Mongol strife; he knew that Mongke had not yet become Great Khan, and his suspicions toward this brother would only grow stronger.

If we could get them to fight each other like dogs, still carry out invasion? Feng Yi clasped his hands: "Having seen the lord and the chancellor, I shall take my leave!"

Huobulie frowned slightly: "Could it be that you came just for this?"

Feng Yi said calmly: "Mainly to get to know you; next time I come to assassinate you, don't mistake the target." He flicked his sleeve and turned to leave.

The troops all at once erupted in an uproar, "Really? Is this even reasonable?"

The archers, awaiting Huobulie's command, were ready to shoot him into a porcupine; even if they couldn't succeed, they had to make the show.

Then Nomoxing shouted sternly: "You brazenly boast—is this a place where you can come and go as you please?"

Feng Yi turned his head to glance at him, smiling: "That's easily settled; if you won't let me leave, just keep me here!"

He swept his gaze over them and said arrogantly: "Are you coming one by one, or all together?"

Having spoken, he clasped his hands behind his back and waited quietly for someone to make a move.

Nomoxing and the others looked at each other, obviously wary of him, yet no one dared step forward. Though Feng Yi had openly challenged them, leaving no room for concession, their high status made them disdain to gang up on a single opponent.

In single combat they'd still fear losing face before the crowd; anyway Yin Kexi had no intention of stepping forward, but if several surrounded him, they could give it a try.

Their concern for status was a long-standing habit, not something that could be changed in a moment.

After all, they differ from ordinary people in perception; no matter how strong Feng Yi is, they need to see it with their own eyes.

Feng Yi sneered: "If you don't make a move, I can just leave, you know!"

Huobulie's eyes flashed as he looked toward Nomoxing, Xiaoxiangzi and the others; he also wanted to see Feng Yi's abilities.

Yin Kexi said: "My lord, the last time Hero Feng visited Jingzhao Prefecture, we exchanged a move; I narrowly lost to him, and indeed I am no match for him."

Xiaoxiangzi hoped someone else would take the lead, wear him down, then he could swoop in to seize the advantage; he said: "Brother Nomoxing, your martial arts surpass mine; please go first!"

Nomoxing, hearing Xiaoxiangzi's words, already understood his intent, but prideful of his martial arts cultivation being unrivaled in India and having never met an opponent, thought that even if he could not defeat Feng Yi, he would not suffer defeat, and was about to rush out.

Just then Ma Guangzuo let out a fierce shout: "Want to fight? I'll go first!" He usually speaks in a normal tone, but his voice is already so loud that to ordinary people it sounds like shouting; this shout was like a thunderclap.

Seeing him stride out, he swung his bronze staff in a wide arc, like a long bolt of lightning flashing across the sky, rushing toward Feng Yi's head. Within a radius of several zhang, everything was completely enveloped by the wind of his staff.

However, Yelü Qi saw his move, knew he possessed only sheer strength and could not be a match for Feng Yi, and didn't have time to shout to stop.

Feng Yi's right hand flicked, and he just managed to grab the tip of the staff.

With a "hum", Ma Guangzuo felt his hands heat up and his chest burn; he was puzzled when suddenly an internal force surged up the staff like a tide, leaving him no time to react before he felt his limbs about to disintegrate and a mouthful of blood rose to his throat.

With a "thud", his tall body fell straight to the ground like a log.

Feng Yi subdued Ma Guangzuo with a single move; everyone was shocked, and the field fell silent.

This scene made the Mongol soldiers' hearts pound again: "This man in blue is more terrifying than ghosts and gods!"

Even Nimoxing and Xiao Xiangzi were startled and changed expression.

In fact, Ma Guangzuo possesses boundless strength and is skilled in martial arts, but facing a master like Feng Yi, he had no room to display his abilities.

But they could certainly not achieve this; obviously the rumors about Feng Yi are true—he is indeed a top-tier master.

Feng Yi then moved against Ma Guangzuo again, saying calmly: "Big guy, I see you're honest-natured; I'll spare you this time."

Ma Guangzuo felt his innards as if clenched into a ball, yet he was very heroic, gritting his teeth without a sound; instead, with a "gurgle", he forced the blood back down.

He was a simple man; though he didn't take life and death to heart, he still knew right from wrong, but he said nothing.

Feng Yi then turned his gaze to Nimoxing and the others, sneering: "You few who are courting death, wanting to contend with the Golden Wheel for the post of National Teacher, yet you lack even the courage of a simple man—do you still have any face?"

Nimoxing and Xiao Xiangzi exchanged a glance, then looked at Yin Kexi; at that moment all three shared the same thought: "If we fight one-on-one we are sure to lose, and even if we join forces and still lose, what face will we have left before the prince?"

Kublai, observing their expressions, knew they had reservations, was secretly startled, stared at Feng Yi without blinking, and smiled: "Master Feng, are you trying to overwhelm others with force?"

Feng Yi also smiled and said: "You must be thinking, this is your Mongol territory; even if I can fight, what good would it do?"

Kublai, having his thoughts laid bare by him, gave a hum and said: "Isn't that the fact?"

Feng Yi replied lightly: "That certainly is a fact, but the fearful do not come, and those who come are not fearful."

Kublai nodded: "Someone like you, a hero, surely has nothing to fear in the world. But I don't know what good it does to cause such a fuss."

Feng Yi said: "Your Highness, I want to give you a word."

If the Mongols want to invade, that's up to you.

But from now on I will keep an eye on you until the day I kill you, using any means necessary.

Kublai chuckled: "Your divine skill astonishes and impresses me, but I have heard people say that Guo Jing's martial arts rank first among the Han of the Central Plains; I don't know how you compare to him in strength."

Boring!

Feng Yi flicked his sleeve and turned to leave.

Kublai hastily dismounted, waved his hand, and said: "Wait, Master Feng; I hold heroes in the highest esteem, and your coming to see me is already a sign of respect. Since we have met by fate, don't you wish to have a good talk with me?"

Yelü Chucai also said: "What Your Highness says is right; you have a heart to save the world, and we share the same aspirations—why then keep people at a distance?"

(End of chapter)