Commander Mu sat in the front seat wearing his military uniform. His temples had turned slightly gray. His tone was even rather gentle, yet he carried an unmistakable military bearing that commanded attention. He was nothing like the old rascal Mu Geshen often called him. Instead, he resembled a cultured general.
Mu Geshen had grown up in the military camp until he was ten, when he entered the Ginkgo Study. After that, father and son rarely saw each other. Commander Mu was not stationed in the city. He spent the entire year leading troops elsewhere, and the two exchanged very few letters. During the four years Mu Geshen studied abroad, he had received only one letter at the beginning, outlining the arrangements for his studies. After that, there had been no news at all.
Sometimes Mu Geshen even forgot he had a father. Commander Mu had always taken a hands-off approach to raising him. He had merely arranged for him to attend school, without providing a single cent for tuition or living expenses. Instead, his brothers had sent him money and support every few days. Before returning, he had written home, but Commander Mu was rarely home even once or twice a year, so Mu Geshen had assumed the letter would never reach him. Now, meeting him so suddenly, Mu Geshen felt an unexpected nervousness at returning home.
“There are plenty of things I don’t bother asking about. One more won’t make a difference.” Commander Mu took out a cigarette. “I’m heading south soon. Originally, I didn’t have time to see you. Since we’ve run into each other, I’ll ask you a few questions.”
Mu Geshen handed him a match and lit his cigarette. “Go ahead.”
“Do you understand the current state of affairs?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have any plans now that you’ve returned to China?”
“Yes.”
“Ever since you turned ten, I haven’t really looked after you. We’ve spent more time apart than together all these years. You’re not exactly a promising young man, but you’ve picked up a few things here and there. At least you have the ability to make a living.” Commander Mu spoke calmly. “Now, with war clouds gathering and the country on the brink of collapse, you’ve returned to China to wade into this mess. What is it you’re seeking?”
Mu Geshen smiled. “Dad, my surname is Mu.”
“That’s far from enough.”
“Everywhere among these green mountains, loyal bones shall find their resting place…”
“Don’t try to impress me with fancy words. Think carefully before you answer. If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll have you thrown out of this car and send you straight back to Europe to continue your studies.”
Mu Geshen’s smile faded. After a moment of silence, he began to speak in a measured tone.
He spoke in English, fluently. His choice of words was rather formal for a conversation between father and son. But Commander Mu listened. He stubbed out his cigarette and said calmly, “Continue.”
He recognized what his son was talking about: a report on the war situation published in The Times a few days earlier.
As Mu Geshen spoke, he gradually laid out the entire situation. His delivery was unhurried, but the subject matter was complex. International conflicts, the domestic political situation, the state of the battlefield, public sentiment, and people’s livelihoods… Gone was his usual animated manner. He simply laid everything out one point at a time. Clearly, he had thought it through carefully and repeatedly weighed every detail before he could speak with such caution and thoroughness.
A few brief words stripped away all the noise and revealed a blue-green backbone beneath the flesh and blood, like strong liquor shattering the cold of a winter night—chilling yet burning hot.
Silence. Silence. Silence.
In the silence, kindling caught fire in the night, and from somewhere came the sound of drums—beating within the young man’s chest.
When he finished, Mu Geshen smiled. It was a smile difficult to describe: a willingness to face life and death with unwavering resolve, along with a touch of unspoken understanding between father and son. In a time of chaos, a military family did not place filial affection above all else. Instead, father and son were like two renowned blades, each ready to taste blood for the other.
“Though I may lack a body of bronze and bones of iron, I hope to bow my head and, if I am fortunate, become a part of the backbone that holds this nation upright.”
Father and son met each other’s eyes in the rearview mirror. Commander Mu tossed him a cigarette.
“Looks like you’ve come prepared.”
“Otherwise, I wouldn’t dare show off my limited knowledge in front of you.” Mu Geshen struck a match. “Commander, do you think this soldier of yours is fit for service?”
Commander Mu gave a quiet hum. “I’ll give you a passing grade.”
Now that everything had been laid out, the father did not bother beating around the bush with his son. He got straight to the point.
“The situation is deadlocked, and a major battle could break out at any moment. I’m heading south soon. I won’t be taking you with me this time. I have another task for you to handle.”
“Your orders.”
Commander Mu lowered the car window and pointed into the distance.
“Guard this city for me.”
Mu Geshen followed his father’s gaze. In the distance stood the towering city gates, while the lights of countless households shone beneath them. It was a prosperity forged over thousands of years, washed by the frost and storms of history.
“This place is a strategic stronghold and a gateway into the heart of the inland territories. If it falls, thousands of miles of land will be ravaged, countless lives lost, and our country reduced to ruins.” Commander Mu said, “Although the outcome of the war is still uncertain, if the worst comes to pass, we must fight for every inch of our land.”
“You followed me into military camps when you were only three. You’ve traveled to countless places, from north to south and east to west. Guarding a city should not be difficult for you.” Commander Mu turned and smiled at Mu Geshen. “Don’t bring shame to me.”
Mu Geshen saluted. “You can count on me, Commander.”
“Why are you calling me Commander? Call me Dad.” Commander Mu patted his shoulder. “I’ve spent these past years rushing from place to place and rarely looked after you. Fortunately, you’ve never needed much looking after. The house in this city has been under construction for many years, but I’ve hardly ever lived in it properly. When I return this time, I’ll find you a suitable wife. I’ll give you the house as your wedding home. Once you have a child or two of your own, the place will be livelier.”
“Isn’t there some saying? Something like, ‘The great enemy has yet to be vanquished, so there can be no home for us,'” Mu Gesheng said, scratching his head. “Rather than worrying about me, why don’t you find yourself a second wife? Look at you. You’ve married off all four of your chief advisors, yet you’re still living alone yourself.”
“If you keep spouting nonsense, I’ll marry you off to the tofu seller in the east of the city!” Commander Mu kicked him out of the car. “I’m leaving.”
“Take care on your way. Actually, I think the wonton seller in the east of the city is a better choice. His wontons have generous fillings and plenty of seasoning.”
“Just you wait until your old man gets back!” Commander Mu waved his hand. “I’ll prepare a hundred pounds of pork as your dowry!”
The car sped away, and a horn sounded in the distance.
Mu Gesheng stood there for a while, his thoughts in turmoil. In the end, he simply decided to go to the east of the city for wontons. The old street stall from back then was still there. A large clay pot sat on the stove, the ladle had a long bamboo handle and was made of betel-nut wood, and the bowls were blue-rimmed porcelain. The freshly cooked wontons had thin wrappers and generous fillings, topped with a ladleful of sesame chili oil. Mu Gesheng ate two bowls in a row, then felt sleepiness creeping over him. In a daze, he made his way back to the Mu residence and fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, Mu Gesheng got up early. After washing up, he headed straight for the military camp in the suburbs.
The officer left in charge was one of Commander Mu’s former subordinates. He had watched Mu Gesheng grow up, and the moment they met, he greeted him with fists and kicks.
“Boy, you’re here? What skills have you learned from the foreigners these past few years? Come on, let’s exchange a few moves first! You can come inside after you beat me!”
“Sounds good!” Mu Gesheng had expected this. He rolled up his sleeves. “Please go easy on me!”
Song Wentong kicked open the main gate of the Mu residence early that morning, only to discover that Mu Gesheng had left even earlier.
The Mu residence was usually empty. Only a few women responsible for cleaning were there, and none of them knew anything when questioned.
Song Wentong had been stood up the previous night and was already burning with anger. He had turned the entire city upside down searching for the man, then even made another trip to Whitewater Temple. He searched everywhere but couldn’t find him. In the end, when he happened to pass Guanshan Yue, Aunt Zhao called out to him.
“Little Tong, I heard you’ve been busy all morning. What are you up to?”
“Looking for Fourth Brother!”
“Didn’t he go to the military camp in the suburbs first thing this morning?” Aunt Zhao asked, looking puzzled. “I heard there’s quite a lively fight going on. A whole crowd has gathered to watch!”
“?!”
Song Wentong immediately took off running.
By the time he hurried to the suburbs, he could already see a crowd gathered outside the military camp from a distance. Mu Gesheng stood in the middle of them, having just thrown a burly man to the ground.
“Forty-ninth! Next!”
Song Wentong pushed his way into the crowd. “What’s going on here?”
“The young master of the Mu family wants to join the military camp, so the men are lining up to fight him one-on-one!” a burly onlooker beside him shouted excitedly. “He’s taken down dozens of them in one morning! One man against a whole crowd of heroes! It’s even more exciting than a performance on the opera stage!”
Song Wentong raised an eyebrow. He didn’t bother squeezing any farther into the crowd. Instead, he folded his arms and stood to one side, watching Mu Gesheng fight alone.
The young man in the crowd was dressed in a military uniform, his shirt sleeves rolled up. Under the sunlight, his back was straight as a sword. Laughing heartily, he ran a hand through his damp hair.
“Come on! Next!”
Song Wentong had clearly seen how Mu Gesheng had just kicked a burly man to the ground. It was one of his most frequently used moves. When exerting force, he would even launch his entire body into the air, yet he could still change his attack midair. It was a fierce, powerful, and relentless technique.
Song Wentong remembered the first time they had met at the Ginkgo Study. Back then, Mu Gesheng had just come out of the military camp and still had a bandage sling around his arm. There had been a roguish edge to his sharp presence. With a blade of foxtail grass between his teeth, he had asked Song Wentong, “That knife of yours looks pretty good. Want to fight?”
Later, that same man had practically melted into a puddle of laziness at the Ginkgo Study. He indulged in fine clothes and pleasure-seeking, cockfighting and chasing dogs. He preferred using his mouth over his fists whenever possible. The rough, bandit-like air about him had faded, leaving behind a graceful, carefree young gentleman.
But Song Wentong had never forgotten their first fight.
At first, it had been nothing more than playful probing. Yet by the end, neither of them had held back. They had fought like two feral dogs, baring their teeth and fiercely struggling against each other.
By rights, Song Wentong had had a much greater chance of winning. But his opponent had gritted his teeth and stared at him, his eyes bright and fierce, with undisguised excitement. The outcome had remained undecided right to the end.
In the end, both of them had been carried back.
That night, Song Wentong had stolen some liquor from the kitchen, intending to find that boy and have a drink with him. But in the corridor, he had run into Mu Gesheng, who had also stolen liquor to come looking for him.
“Fifty-sixth! Next!”
Mu Gesheng’s voice pulled Song Wentong back to the present. He looked at the young man beneath the sunlight, who seemed like a white eagle spreading its wings, his eyes as clear as ever.
Song Wentong suddenly broke into a smile. He turned and headed back into the city. When he returned, he had two things in his hands: a knife and a jar of liquor.
He strapped the Red-Licking Saber to his back, popped the seal off the wine jar, and watched Mu Gesheng beat people while drinking.
“Seventy-eighth!”
“Seventy-ninth!”
Mu Gesheng undid his buttons and tossed off his shirt.
“Keep going! Let’s make it a nice round number today!”
“Eighty-seventh!”
“Eighty-eighth!”
…
“Ninety-ninth!”
Song Wentong finished the liquor, then smashed the jar onto the ground. The noise startled everyone nearby, and they all turned to look.
He walked into the crowd and drew his knife toward Mu Gesheng.
“One hundred.”
Song Wentong’s skill was known to everyone. Mu Gesheng, meanwhile, had already expended most of his strength and was practically at the end of his rope. The watching officers’ expressions changed, and they were about to step forward to stop them.
But Mu Gesheng waved his hand.
“It’s fine.”
Then he crooked a finger at Song Wentong.
“Come.”
Song Wentong drew his knife in a reverse grip. The blade remained sheathed. He lowered his stance, and in an instant, his eyes changed.
After four years, Mu Gesheng was seeing the Red-Licking Saber again.
The ancient blade’s edge remained as sharp as ever, breathtakingly beautiful and violently fierce.
He smiled at the very first move.
Because that year, too, it had been a bright, sunny afternoon in midsummer. A slender, handsome young man had stood beneath a tree and swung a knife at him. The blade had been dazzling, cutting through the air with a crisp whistle.
“If you can withstand three moves, I’ll tell you the name of this knife.”
“And what if I beat you?”
“Impossible.”
“How do you know it’s impossible if you don’t try?”
…
“We’ve been fighting all afternoon, haven’t we? I don’t think I’m completely without a chance of winning. Tell me, what happens if I win?”
“If you beat me, I’ll grant you one promise.”
…
Mu Gesheng snapped out of his memories and twisted aside to dodge the first gust of blade wind rushing toward him. At the same time, he rolled across the ground.
Song Wentong’s blade was incredibly fast. No one could clearly see the full sequence of his moves. The instant they caught sight of the first flash of the blade, the second move had already finished.
Dodging the two-stage attack was extremely difficult. But back then, Mu Gesheng had managed it with ease, using the shameless fighting style he’d learned in the military camp.
Don’t stand there. Roll on the ground. Crawl if you have to. Roll as far away as you possibly can.
Song Wentong came from the Mohist school, and his secondary studies had originated from Penglai. His martial arts training was orthodox and refined. This was the first time he had ever seen such a crude, bandit-like fighting style, and he had been genuinely shocked.
Later, he discovered that Mu Gesheng himself was exactly the same. He could be suave and charming, shameless and thick-skinned, meticulous in his calculations, and utterly uneducated—all at once. He could warmly sing little tunes for the young ladies at Guanshan Yue, and he could also unhesitatingly risk life and limb for his friends. Now that he had put on a military uniform, the way he fought was still just as shameless as it had been back then, yet he remained outstanding and unlike anyone else.
The two exchanged moves back and forth, using the old techniques from their fights all those years ago. They perfectly recreated the scene of their first meeting. However, they knew each other far too well. Before a move could even fully unfold, the other had already changed his stance.
They had ended in a draw back then. Now, fighting once again, Mu Gesheng was undoubtedly at a disadvantage under Song Wentong’s faster attacks.
The ginkgo leaves had turned yellow countless times, yet they still remembered what had happened back then, as though it had all taken place only yesterday.
Song Wentong pivoted and swung his long saber in a half-circle.
“Your skills haven’t improved much.”
“Not necessarily.” Mu Gesheng leaped into the air. “I’m fighting barehanded. If I had a weapon, I could settle this with one move.”
“Your skills aren’t much to speak of, but your mouth sure is big.” Song Wentong clicked his tongue. “The fight has already begun. If you can avoid my blade, you can go get whatever weapon you want.”
“How can that be? That’s not how we fought back then. If I pick up a weapon, things won’t be the same.”
“They should be different.”
The two passed each other. At the instant their shoulders brushed, Song Wentong’s voice sounded.
“Things aren’t the same as they were back then.”
Mu Gesheng froze for a moment, then broke into a smile.
“Good! Times have changed. Things aren’t what they used to be!” He raised his voice and called out, “Come on, Second Brother! Let’s settle this with one move!”
“No holding back!”
At the critical moment, Song Wentong swept his saber horizontally. It carved a strange, fierce arc through the air. A hint of red flickered in the blade’s light, and even the crowd watching from a distance was forced to stagger backward by the saber’s force.
He had put all his strength into that strike. Although the Red-Licking Saber remained sheathed, it was still powerful enough to injure someone.
Mu Gesheng couldn’t dodge in time. The strike sent him flying. He hit the ground and rolled a long way before his body twitched twice and then lay still.
Song Wentong wasn’t particularly worried that he had injured the other man. He knew exactly how much force he had put into his strike. Mu Gesheng hadn’t been completely unable to dodge it; he had probably just used up too much of his strength and hadn’t reacted in time.
Holding his saber, Song Wentong walked over.
“If you can still get up, then keep going.”
But in the very next second, Mu Gesheng suddenly hooked his leg upward. Song Wentong was immediately pulled off balance and sent crashing to the ground. Then a gun was pressed against his forehead.
“You lost.”
Behind the gun’s muzzle was Mu Gesheng’s smiling face.
Song Wentong kicked him aside. “You won by unfair means.”
“All’s fair in war. You’re the one who said I could use whatever I wanted.” Mu Gesheng burst out laughing, then collapsed flat onto the ground. “I’m exhausted. Do me a favor and drag me inside.”
Song Wentong didn’t bother being polite. Since the ground around them was all sand anyway, he grabbed Mu Gesheng by the foot with one hand and dragged him straight into the military camp.
The entire camp had been built by Commander Mu many years ago. Beside the training grounds stood several small buildings.
Mu Gesheng went to take a shower first. When he came out in a fresh military uniform, he asked, “Second Brother, what brought you to the military camp? Don’t you have business to attend to at noon?”
“So you still remember Yeshui Zhuhua.” Song Wentong snorted. “I arranged a banquet for you last night, filling two entire floors. I waited until midnight, and you never showed up.”
Mu Gesheng froze, thinking to himself, Oh, damn it. I finally got to see my father last night, and I actually forgot about this.
“Well, how about this…” Knowing he was in the wrong, Mu Gesheng tried to laugh it off. “I’ll pay for it. In a few days, you can bring the chefs and all their equipment to the military camp and prepare a meal. Consider it an extra treat for the brothers.”
This man was a notorious miser who wouldn’t part with a single penny. The fact that he was offering to pay out of his own pocket now showed just how guilty he felt.
“Get lost. I don’t need your few pennies.” Song Wentong shot him down with a single sentence. “Where did you go to enjoy yourself last night? You weren’t at the banquet, and even Fengdu sent people over.”
“Fengdu? What the hell did they come here for?” Mu Gesheng waved his hand when he heard that. “I already have more than enough living people’s affairs to deal with. I don’t have time to bother with the dead.”
“It’s not up to you anymore.”
Song Wentong pushed open the window. From the small building, they had a clear view of the nearby mountain peaks, with Whitewater Temple faintly visible in the distance.
“Word of your return has already spread. You weren’t here two years ago, so this matter has been put off ever since. Now every family is sending people here.”
“In two days, at the Ginkgo Study in Whitewater Temple. Seven schools will gather, and the various scholars will contend with one another.”