Chapter Sixty-Seven: The Spring Hunt

Zhongshan Mountain is located northeast of Jinling City and is the preferred site for the imperial hunts of the regime based in Jinling. When Yang Lian received news that the Emperor had rejected his proposal to launch a military campaign into the Central Plains and would instead hunt at Zhongshan in five days, he could only offer a faint sigh.

Five days passed quickly. As the Commander of the Shenwu Army, Yang Lian was naturally responsible for the safety of the imperial family. This spring hunt included not only members of the royal house but also many high-ranking officials and dignitaries of the imperial court. On the day of the hunt, the area was packed with people. Li Jing left Li Jingdi to guard Jinling while he led the Shenwu, Tianxiong, and Jiankang armies, along with palace maids and eunuchs—a massive procession of over thirty thousand people—as they marched toward Zhongshan.

During the Southern Tang period, Zhongshan lay outside Jinling, a journey of about twenty miles. It took the entire morning for the group to reach the mountain, and after traveling another ten miles or so, they set up camp in a relatively flat area in the heart of the mountain. The vast army stretched for miles, its banners fluttering in the wind, presenting a spectacular sight.

The Shenwu Army’s camp was situated more than three miles away from the imperial encampment. After the incident in Changzhou, the Emperor’s trust in the Shenwu and Tianxiong armies had significantly diminished. Traditionally, the imperial camp was guarded by the Shenwu Army, but this time, the duty had been transferred to the Jiankang Army. Yang Lian did not mind. Upon arriving at his post, he ordered his troops not to wander about, so as not to cause any misunderstandings among those with ulterior motives.

Li Ping, Lu Mengjun, Chen Tie, and others were Yang Lian’s subordinates. After giving them instructions, Yang Lian dismissed them to lead the soldiers in pitching tents and erecting fences. By dusk, the Shenwu Army camp was largely established. Due to the retirement of the former commander, Gao Shensi, and a series of subsequent court changes, Bian Gao had become the new commander of the Shenwu Army.

Yang Lian had met Bian Gao and found him quite unremarkable. In fact, Bian Gao had led troops into battle several times, only to end in failure. It was evident that his military competence was lacking, yet the Emperor trusted him deeply.

Bian Gao issued a series of instructions, and the commanders departed to carry them out. Yang Lian, having nothing to do, strolled around the outskirts of the military camp. Zhongshan occupied a vast area, and the Emperor had brought over thirty thousand people—in reality, a move driven by a deep-seated fear of military rebellion, intending to keep these soldiers firmly under control.

Yang Lian’s encampment was close to Xuanwu Lake, only seven or eight miles away. Riding his horse, he found himself at the edge of the lake before he knew it. Looking into the distance, the water shimmered, the banks were shaded by lush trees, and a few small islands were faintly visible within the lake—a breathtakingly beautiful scene.

Yang Lian wandered along the shore alone. He felt powerless regarding the recent court affairs; it was not just the infighting between the two factions, but the abandonment of the northern expedition that chilled his heart. Liu Zhiyuan had been able to establish the Later Han from the single base of Taiyuan, and the Southern Tang was certainly not weak. Yet, Li Jing, having been terrified by the Wuyue people, harbored a deep-seated dread of the northern regimes and refused to adopt Yang Lian’s optimal strategy. Yang Lian couldn't help but clench his fists. There was still one chance to enter the Central Plains; it all depended on whether that opportunity could be seized. If they waited until the Later Zhou was established, the opponent would be far too formidable.

As Yang Lian was lost in thought, the sound of footsteps approached. He looked up and saw Zhou Zong. Zhou Zong was currently serving as the Jiedushi of Xuanzhou and, having returned to the capital just in time for the Emperor’s spring hunt, had been invited to attend. In previous years, Zhou Zong had been suppressed by Song Qiqiu and even demoted, a situation that only improved after the current Emperor ascended the throne.

Yang Lian narrowed his eyes, recognizing Zhou Zong, though the latter did not know him. Zhou Zong continued walking, enjoying the warmth of the evening sun. Beside him was a young woman wearing a long pink dress and a hairpin; her attire appeared modest, but her beauty was extraordinary.

Yang Lian was stunned when he saw the woman and lingered on her for a moment.

Zhou Zong noticed him from a short distance away and frowned. "You soldier, which army are you from?" As an old minister from the time of the founding emperor, his tone carried the natural air of a superior. Moreover, as the Jiedushi of Xuanzhou, a second-rank official, he did not hold a mere soldier in any regard.

Yang Lian squinted at Zhou Zong and, pretending not to know him, replied coolly, "And where did you pop out from, old man?" Zhou Zong was not in his official robes but in casual attire, and with his long beard, calling him an old man was hardly an injustice.

Zhou Zong was furious. Who had ever spoken to him in such a way? Even the Emperor treated him with courtesy; this minor soldier was truly insolent. Zhou Zong snorted, glaring at Yang Lian with sharp eyes. Yang Lian did not back down and met his gaze.

At this moment, the woman beside Zhou Zong whispered something into his ear. A moment later, Zhou Zong sneered, "So, you are the Yang Lian who has been making such a name for himself lately?"

"I am indeed Yang Lian, but to what, may I ask, do I owe this 'great name'?" Yang Lian countered.

"Heh," Zhou Zong laughed dismissively. "A tree that stands above the forest will be destroyed by the wind. You are young, yet you have already attained the fifth rank and command an army—truly, your luck has reached its zenith. Remember, when you encounter others, you should always be respectful, or you might find yourself dead without even knowing why."

"I thank you for the warning, old sir, but I am still young, and I certainly do not intend to die before certain people," Yang Lian retorted calmly.

Zhou Zong’s face twisted with anger. That "certain person" was clearly a jab at him. He snorted, too proud to argue with Yang Lian. After all, as a second-rank official, the gap between him and a fifth-rank officer was vast; to bicker with him would be beneath his station.

Zhou Zong walked away in a huff. As the woman passed Yang Lian, she bowed slightly and said, "It has been some time, Young Master. Congratulations on your promotion to Commander."

Yang Lian was taken aback. Truly, a girl changes eighteen times before reaching adulthood. A few months ago, when he saw Zhou Ehuang, she was already a woman of peerless beauty, enough to make Li Congjia lose his mind and fall hopelessly in love. He had not expected her to be even more beautiful now, and for a moment, he hadn't recognized her.

"You really have a poor memory, Young Master. Is Ehuang so ugly that I am not worth remembering?" Zhou Ehuang asked, her brow slightly furrowed, her large eyes misting over in a pitiful display.

Although Yang Lian held no love for Zhou Zong, he had no grievances toward Zhou Ehuang. Seeing her like this, he smiled, "Miss Zhou is gifted in both talent and beauty; even if Xi Shi were to be reborn, she would not compare to even a fraction of your grace."

Zhou Ehuang was delighted and was about to speak, but Zhou Zong, appearing displeased, called out, "Ehuang, are you not coming?"

"Pardon my rudeness, Young Master Yang. If there is an opportunity, Ehuang would certainly like to seek your counsel on the art of music." Without waiting for an answer, she hurried away.

Yang Lian offered a bitter smile. What did he know about music? He only knew a few famous songs from later ages that did not exist in this era. Watching Zhou Ehuang’s retreating figure, he felt a sudden sense of sorrow. Whether it was the Elder Empress Zhou or the Younger Empress Zhou, neither had a happy ending. The Elder Empress died young from illness, and even before she passed, Li Yu had already begun an affair with her sister, proving that Li Yu, the great poet, was in fact a callous man.

After the fall of the kingdom, Li Yu could not protect his wife, and the Younger Empress Zhou was repeatedly humiliated by Zhao Guangyi. Upon her return, she cursed Li Yu, who could only bear it in silence—a truly useless man. He wondered if this Zhou Ehuang would still end up marrying Li Yu.

The thought flashed through his mind and was gone. Yang Lian smiled and continued his slow walk along Xuanwu Lake. After about five hundred paces, the setting sun hung low on the mountain peaks. He turned to head back when, suddenly, a scream rang out from ahead.

"What has happened?" Yang Lian quickened his pace.

Beside Xuanwu Lake lay the forests of Zhongshan. During the Southern Tang period, the area had not been fully developed, so the mountains were high and the woods dense, home to many animals—rabbits, deer, sheep, and, of course, wolves, snakes, and tigers.

When Yang Lian rushed over, he saw a giant python, as thick as a bowl, flicking its tongue. Zhou Zong was shielding Zhou Ehuang, looking on with extreme vigilance. He had only taken his daughter out for a stroll and had not brought any guards; he never could have imagined encountering such a beast. Looking at the python, its scarlet tongue spraying a foul, fishy odor, Zhou Zong felt deep regret.

But regret was useless. To flee before a swift python was nearly impossible. Zhou Zong did not fear for himself, but for his daughter. Zhou Ehuang was pale with terror, her large eyes filled with horror. They had said the spring hunt was great fun, so why was this python so terrifying? Its massive head and gaping maw seemed ready to swallow them whole at any moment.

The python flicked its tongue for a long time, seemingly sensing Zhou Zong’s weakness. It coiled its body, then lunged forward, its tongue dancing in the air in a ghastly display.

"Demon!" Yang Lian, arriving from the side, saw the scene and drew his long blade. He dashed forward and slashed at the python. Its body was covered in thick scales, suggesting it had lived for many years.

With a sharp "clang," the blade struck the scales, ringing out clearly. Yang Lian felt his blade sink, and he immediately exerted more force.

Although the python's scales were tough, they were no match for tempered steel. As the blade cut through, blood sprayed, and the python twisted in agony, nearly flipping over. Yang Lian had been too fast, and the serpent, focused on Zhou Zong and his daughter, had been caught off guard.

Yang Lian landed another blow. Snakes were notoriously tenacious, often capable of lashing out even after death, so Yang Lian did not dare be careless. He gripped the blade with both hands and struck repeatedly. The python had been struck twice; though not severed, it was severely wounded. It turned to glare at Yang Lian, its tongue flickering as it locked onto his position.

The python opened its blood-red maw, intent on swallowing Yang Lian, spraying droplets of venomous saliva.

Zhou Ehuang, hearing the commotion, opened her eyes, only to witness this scene, and was paralyzed with fear for Yang Lian’s safety.

Yang Lian sneered, holding his blade steady before his chest, appearing as though he had been startled. The python hissed and lunged, closing to within two feet of him. Zhou Zong, seeing this, was also shocked. Even though he held no fondness for Yang Lian, the young man was risking his life to save them; how could he remain indifferent?

Just as Zhou Zong and Zhou Ehuang cried out, Yang Lian moved. He swung his blade with all his might, striking the snake’s head dead center. With a wet "thwack," the serpent’s head was split in two!