Chapter 6: Zhenbei Old Soldiers, Returned to Camp in a Single Night

After Lu Heng's death, Han Zhou did not fall into chaos.

Or rather, those who wished to stir up chaos never got the chance—before they could act, Chen Shanhe led the Zhenbei Old Soldiers and slaughtered them all in a single night.

Blazing fire shot to the skies above the Prince of Zhenhan Manor.

The direct line of the Lu Family, the generals who had taken part in that year's rebellion, the retainers who had secretly carried messages for the Heavenly Gate—one after another, they were dragged out of the manor.

Along the long street, the common folk did not cheer.

They only watched in silence.

Three years ago, they had seen the Zhenbei Marquis Manor destroyed.

Three years later, they watched the Lu Family fall.

Fortune's wheel turned, swift as a great dream.

Jiang Che did not return to the main hall of the Prince's Manor.

He went to the Jiang Family Ancestral Hall.

The ancestral hall lay at the deepest part of the Prince's Manor, sealed shut by Lu Heng for three years.

The door was studded with Soul-Suppressing Nails, and Suppressing Victory Talismans were drawn across the ground—clearly, someone had not wanted the Jiang Family's wandering souls to find peace.

Jiang Che stood before the door, the cold glint in his eyes growing sharper.

Chen Shanhe knelt behind him: "Young Master, this old servant is incompetent."

Jiang Che shook his head.

"Uncle Chen surviving is already more than enough."

Chen Shanhe's tiger-like eyes reddened.

Back then, he had been Jiang Xuan's foremost personal guard; his right arm had been severed on the night of bloody battle at the Hou Manor. Had it not been for a few guards who threw their lives on the line to shield him, he too should have died long ago.

Jiang Che raised his hand and pulled out the first Soul-Suppressing Nail.

Hiss!

The instant the nail left the door, a wisp of black qi rose up.

The Sword Spirit sneered: "The Heavenly Gate's methods are still this filthy."

Jiang Che pulled out the nails one by one.

With each nail, his face turned a shade paler.

By the time the last Soul-Suppressing Nail came out, his palm was already a mangled mess of flesh and blood.

The ancestral hall's door opened.

Inside there was no dust.

Only row upon row of spirit tablets.

Jiang Xuan's tablet stood at the very center.

Jiang Che walked in, knelt, and kowtowed heavily three times.

"Father."

"Your son has returned."

The ancestral hall was very still.

Yet he seemed to hear, as if from years past, his father's hearty laughter.

That man had always loved to lift him onto his shoulders, point toward the snow plains of the north, and say: "Che'er, remember—a son of the Jiang Family may die beyond the pass, but he must never kneel within it."

Jiang Che closed his eyes.

When he opened them again, there were no tears left.

Only Sword Intent remained.

He placed the Tiger Tally on the offering table.

Suddenly, a faint sound of mechanism came from behind the spirit tablets.

Chen Shanhe's face changed: "The Marquis actually left a Hidden Compartment?"

Jiang Che rose and stepped forward.

Inside the Hidden Compartment lay a letter, a tattered scroll, and a Black Sword Seal.

On the envelope were written four characters:

For Che'er's eyes alone.

Jiang Che's fingers trembled slightly as he opened the letter.

The handwriting within was vigorous and bold—Jiang Xuan's own hand.

"Che'er, if you can read this letter, it means your father is already dead, and the Jiang Family has already fallen."

"Do not rush to seek revenge."

"The Heavenly Gate is not one person, nor one sect—it is a grand scheme a thousand years in the making."

"The Sword Vein the Jiang Family guards lies at the far end of the Northern Border Snow Plains. If the Sword Vein is lost, the Sword Dao of the Human Realm is severed."

"In all my life, your father felt no shame before the Human Realm—only shame before your mother, and before you."

"If you lack the strength, wander the jianghu far away, take a wife, raise children, and do not cling to the Jiang Family."

"If you still hold a sword, then go to the Northern Border."

"There, your mother left you her true bequest."

At the very end of the letter, there was only one line:

"My son Jiang Che need not become a king or a marquis, but he must never bow his head."

Jiang Che held the letter for a long while.

The Sword Spirit, for once, said nothing.

Chen Shanhe said in a low voice, "Young Master, the Marquis told you to leave not because he distrusts you, but because he wants you to live."

Jiang Che tucked the letter into his chest and picked up the Black Sword Seal.

The seal was icy to the touch.

In the next instant, the meridians within his body trembled slightly, as if resonating with something far away.

On the tattered map, three places in the Northern Border were marked.

The first was named Burying Sword Valley.

The second was named White Bone Pass.

The third was named Tian Duan Cliff.

Seeing the three characters for Tian Duan Cliff, Chen Shanhe's face changed abruptly.

"Young Master, Tian Duan Cliff lies deep within the Northern Barbarians' territory; beyond it lies the legendary ruins of the Heavenly Gate."

Jiang Che said, "Then we go."

Chen Shanhe urged, "But the former Northern Garrison Army has fewer than three thousand men, while the Northern Barbarians have a million archers!"

Jiang Che rose and gazed at the snow outside the ancestral hall.

"Isn't there still seven days?"

"What can be done in seven days?"

Jiang Che walked out of the ancestral hall.

At this moment, from all directions of Hanzhou City, countless former soldiers, knights-errant, and border folk had heard the news and arrived.

They stood in the wind and snow, watching that young man holding a Wooden Sword.

Jiang Che raised the Tiger Tally.

"My name is Jiang Che."

"Son of Jiang Xuan."

"In seven days, I will march out of the Northern Pass, slaughter the Northern Barbarians, and question Heaven."

"Those who wish to follow me, come."

After a brief silence, a lame old soldier knelt down first.

"Old soldier Zhao Hu of the Northern Garrison Army is willing to follow the Young Master to death!"

The second, the third, the hundredth...

Amidst the wind and snow, the sound of kneeling was like thunder.

"Willing to follow the Young Master to death!"

Jiang Che looked at them, feeling as if fire burned within his chest.

The Sword Spirit laughed, "Boy, what your father left you is not an army."

"It is the hearts of men."