Chapter 95: Zhao Kuangyin

Yang Lian looked coldly at Zhao Kuangyi, his still youthful face filled with indignation. Narrowing his eyes with disdain, he looked at him and the man beside him, guessing why Zhao Kuangyin, Zhao Kuangyi, and their party had come to Jinling. Suddenly, a thought struck him, and a possibility crossed his mind.

Before Yang Lian could speak, the man in his forties stepped forward, fixing a hawk-like gaze on Yang Lian, and demanded, "Who are you?"

"I never change my name when I walk, nor my surname when I sit. I am Yang Lian," Yang Lian replied indifferently, turning the question back on him. "And who might you be? What brings you to Jinling?"

The man nodded, retaining a fair impression of Yang Lian, and said, "I am Zhao Hongyin. My purpose in coming to Jinling this time is to escort the emissaries." With that, he gestured toward the person beside him for introductions. The young man with a long staff strapped to his back was Zhao Kuangyin, Zhao Hongyin's second son. As for Zhao Kuangyi, no further introduction was needed, as Yang Lian already knew him.

Hearing this, Yang Lian smiled faintly, raised his hands in a polite salute, and said, "So it is Elder Zhao."

Zhao Kuangyin—wait, Zhao Kuangyi was taken aback and grew anxious. Wasn't this fellow Yang Lian taking advantage of him? He quickly blurted out, "Father, this scoundrel is guilty of heinous crimes; he beat me right in the middle of the street."

"Hold your tongue!" Zhao Hongyin glared at his son. He naturally knew what kind of virtues his children possessed. Coming to Jinling to escort the emissaries this time was not only to test Jinling's attitude toward the Great Han, but also carried an important mission. He had brought his two sons along in the hope of tempering them so they could achieve success early on.

Zhao Hongyin's eldest son had died young, making his second son, Zhao Kuangyin, the de facto eldest. Zhao Kuangyin possessed the temperament of a chivalrous knight-errant and loved to champion the cause of the oppressed, which endeared him greatly to Zhao Hongyin. However, his third son, Zhao Kuangyi, was somewhat frivolous and prone to lying—traits that Zhao Hongyin disliked. Dislike it or not, they were still his sons, and naturally, Zhao Hongyin hoped they would mend their ways. Zhao Hongyin guessed in his heart that nine times out of ten, today's incident had been stirred up by this youngest son of his.

Yang Lian smiled faintly and asked, "Does Elder Zhao not wish to know right from wrong?"

Zhao Hongyin waved his hand and said, "I naturally have my own judgment in this matter." At a single glance, he could tell Yang Lian was someone who had fought his way through mountains of corpses and seas of blood. Just that particular gaze sent a slight shudder through Zhao Hongyin, though in truth, his assessment of Yang Lian was somewhat off the mark.

Yang Lian offered no further explanation. At that moment, Zhao Kuangyin unstrapped the long staff from his back, handed it to Zhao Kuangyi standing nearby, massaged his wrists, and said to Zhao Hongyin, "Father, this Brother Yang has formidable martial skills. Your son wishes to spar with him."

Before Zhao Hongyin could speak, Yang Lian smiled and said, "Since you have such an interest, why not give it a try?" Yang Lian was also filled with curiosity toward Zhao Kuangyin. Seeing that he was under twenty years of age—bursting with youthful vigor and competitive spirit—he couldn't help but feel a stirring desire to contend with him.

With Yang Lian speaking thus, Zhao Hongyin found it difficult to refuse. Besides, he harbored a trace of curiosity toward Yang Lian himself, so he simply nodded and stepped aside.

The tavern keeper hurried over, a bitter expression contorting his face upon seeing that the group was about to resort to violence. He stepped forward and pleaded, "My esteemed guests..."

Yang Lian waved a hand and smiled, "Today we shall borrow your establishment for a while. Tally up all the damages incurred, and I will pay you in full."

Seeing how magnanimous Yang Lian's demeanor was and noting his solemn expression, the keeper realized he was not joking and had no choice but to retreat with a rueful face.

Zhao Hongyin burst into hearty laughter and said, "Brother Yang is truly forthright. Very well, aside from Brother Yang's share of the compensation, I shall also contribute a portion as restitution to the tavern keeper."

Upon hearing this, the tavern keeper's complexion improved slightly, though the thought of his shop soon turning into a martial arena still caused him to shake his head with a bitter smile.

Zhao Kuangyin used his fists. In his later-generation memories, Yang Lian knew that Zhao Kuangyin possessed a set of Ancestral Long Fists enjoying a formidable reputation. It was even mentioned in Jin Yong's masterwork *Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils*, where Qiao Feng used a set of Ancestral Long Fists to drive the Shaolin monks back step by step. Even if that were a wuxia novel with exceptional exaggeration, it still showed that the Ancestral Long Fists were by no means mediocre. Furthermore, it was said that Song people were exceedingly fond of them, and virtually all martial artists practiced them.

Zhao Kuangyin planted his feet firmly, fixed his eyes on Yang Lian, and shouted, "Take my punch!" With that, he charged forward.

Yang Lian smiled slightly and similarly employed the Ancestral Long Fists to engage him in combat. However, the version Yang Lian had learned was a modernized, improved variant from later generations, differing slightly from Zhao Kuangyin's style. Moreover, Zhao Kuangyin was still young at this time, and his Ancestral Long Fists had not yet fully matured. Fighting against Yang Lian, he only held some initial advantages due to his youth and brute strength. Yet after a dozen or so exchanges, Yang Lian grew familiar with Zhao Kuangyin's fist momentum, and his confidence swelled steadily.

Zhao Hongyin felt a trace of astonishment. He naturally knew what his own son was capable of; his second son's martial arts already had few rivals within the army. He never expected that upon encountering this person, they would exchange more than a dozen blows only for his son to fall into a disadvantaged position. "This person is extraordinary, but I wonder what his identity might be? Could he be a high-ranking military officer in the army?" Zhao Hongyin speculated inwardly.

Suddenly, two startled cries rang out nearby. It turned out that Princess Huairou, Zhou Eohuang, and the others had waited for quite some time without seeing Yang Lian return, prompting them to come out and check. Just as they stepped into the grand hall and witnessed this scene, they couldn't help letting out gasps of surprise. Upon catching sight of them, Zhao Hongyin was similarly stunned. These were two exquisitely delicate beauties; even past fifty years of age, his heart could not help but flutter.

Zhao Hongyin suddenly heard the sound of hurried breathing beside him. Turning his head, he saw his third son staring fixedly at the two women, his eyes filled with an unseemly look. In that exact instant, Zhao Hongyin comprehended the general course of events. It was clear that his third son had coveted the beauty of the women accompanying Yang Lian, attempted to harass them, and consequently received a severe lesson from Yang Lian.

Zhou Eohuang widened her autumn-water-like eyes. She had already spotted that dissolute scoundrel Zhao Kuangyi, and recognizing the man standing beside him as sharing a somewhat similar facial structure, she instantly felt a pang of guilt for having implicated Yang Lian. Observing Yang Lian locked in an evenly matched struggle with the young man only deepened her anxiety.

Princess Huairou possessed a sharper eye; perceiving that Yang Lian had already seized the upper hand, she began to clap and laugh, shouting, "Yang Lian, beat him to death! This princess will handle the aftermath of this matter."

Hearing this, Zhao Hongyin couldn't help casting a few extra glances at Princess Huairou. Could this youthful maiden actually be a princess? Judging by her tone of speech, Yang Lian appeared to be merely her subordinate. Shaking his head inwardly, he thought what a pity it was for such a fine young man.

As Yang Lian and Zhao Kuangyin exchanged blows on the frontline of combat, both men were acutely aware of their opponent's formidable skill. Although Yang Lian held the upper hand, he knew full well that without his deep familiarity with the Ancestral Long Fists, securing that advantage would have been exceedingly difficult. Zhao Kuangyin was equally shaken. Having found scarce rivals within his father's army, he never imagined that an encounter with Yang Lian in this place would result in such an intense stalemate—one where his opponent was gradually gaining the upper hand.

Unawares, the two had fought through more than thirty rounds when Yang Lian suddenly leaped backward and called out, "Stop!" Further fighting was pointless; distinguishing a winner between them in a short span would be extremely difficult.

Zhao Kuangyin understood Yang Lian's intention and likewise halted, shaking his head as he said, "Brother Yang is formidable. Yuanlang is no match for you." Yuanlang was precisely Zhao Kuangyin's courtesy name.

Yang Lian smiled. "Brother Zhao possesses marvelous martial prowess. Since you are still young yet, give it some more time for your fist techniques to refine, and I fear I would no longer be your match."

Though both spoke with polite modesty, the actual state of affairs was clear to each of them.

Zhao Hongyin stepped forward with a smile, saying, "Brother Yang's extraordinary skills show he is certainly no ordinary person. Should we meet again in days to come, I fear we shall be enemies rather than friends." He let out an involuntary sigh as he spoke.

Zhou Eohuang walked over, came to a halt behind Yang Lian, and asked in a low voice, "Elder Brother Yang, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. He was merely sparring with me," Yang Lian explained softly.

Princess Huairou caught the unnatural undertone in Zhao Hongyin's words and, noticing his attire differed from that of Jiangnan locals, took a few steps forward and demanded, "Are you a northerner of the Han?"

"Indeed. I am the Great Han's Imperial Guard Commander," Zhao Hongyin replied. "My arrival in Jinling this time is to escort the emissaries for peace talks with the Great Tang."

Princess Huairou suddenly let out a cold snort and warned, "Zhao Kuangyi, if you dare gaze at this princess again, I will gouge out your eyes and feed them to the dogs!"

Zhao Kuangyi's pale face flushed crimson. Being rebuked in such a manner by a woman—yet finding himself unable to offer any retort—he could only lower his head in humiliation.

Zhao Hongyin and Zhao Kuangyin exchanged helpless, resigned glances.

Yang Lian said indifferently, "Peace talks? Might I ask who the emissary is this time?"

"It is the Prince of Cai," Zhao Hongyin answered. The Prince of Cai, Liu Xin, was the younger paternal cousin of Liu Zhiyuan.

Yang Lian gave a slight nod. Through various channels, he had gathered some intelligence concerning the Prince of Cai's identity and temperament. What puzzled him, however, was why Liu Zhiyuan would dispatch someone with such an impulsive and volatile personality to conduct peace talks.

Noticing Yang Lian deep in thought, Zhao Hongyin quickly pressed on, "Princess, Brother Yang, we have been in Jinling for several days now, yet we have received no word whatsoever. Might I ask what the intentions of His Majesty the Great Tang emperor are?"

Yang Lian waved his hand with a smile. "The mind of the sovereign is unfathomable. I am merely a man of the common grass; how could I possibly divine His Majesty's intentions?"

Princess Huairou nodded in agreement, adding, "This princess is merely a woman and knows nothing of these matters."

Disappointment flickered across Zhao Hongyin's face. This diplomatic mission carried immense weight; failure to accomplish it would likely jeopardize the emperor's grand strategy. Yet with Yang Lian repeatedly insisting he was a commoner, Zhao Hongyin could hardly press a blade against his throat. Moreover, even if he did, it would be useless—not to mention he lacked the opportunity to do so.

Yang Lian smiled faintly, cupped his fists in a salute, and said, "This tavern is in disorder, and we still need to eat. We shall take our leave here!" Although these three individuals were all renowned figures in history, Yang Lian held not an ounce of affection for Zhao Kuangyi and wished to spend no further time in his company. Retrieving a silver ingot, he handed it to the tavern keeper and strode off.

Unwilling to lay eyes on Zhao Kuangyi a moment longer, Zhou Eohuang hurried after Yang Lian, leaving behind a lingering fragrance.

Princess Huairou, on the other hand, glared fiercely at Zhao Kuangyi one last time and declared, "Should there be a next time, this princess will surely dig out both your eyes and feed them to the dogs!" With that, she swept away.

Zhao Kuangyi's complexion shifted rapidly between red and white, exasperated beyond measure that Princess Huairou had given him absolutely no face.

Watching Yang Lian depart, Zhao Hongyin suddenly remarked, "Yuanlang, that man is definitely destined for greater things. If we must cross swords with him in the future, we must exercise utmost caution."

Zhao Kuangyin suggested, "Father, his martial arts are exceptional. Why not buy him off and recruit him to the Great Han?"

"Impossible. That man maintains a close relationship with that princess and likely has ties to the Great Tang imperial house. Though he claims to be a commoner, I do not believe it for a second." Feeling a sudden pang of hunger, Zhao Hongyin compensated the tavern keeper with silver and led his two sons away from the establishment.