Gu Anqi and his companions, leading their horses, slowly passed through the tall city gate with the flow of people.
The cacophony of noise, heat, and the mingled scents of food, spices, and livestock rushed towards them like a tide.
The scene inside the city was vastly different from that of the Central Plains.
The streets were exceptionally wide, allowing several carriages to pass side-by-side.
The houses on both sides were mostly built of massive, gray-white stones, rugged and heavy, bearing deep marks of wind and rain erosion and scattered arrow piercings, silently telling the story of this place’s turbulent past.
At this moment, this border town was engulfed in a carnival.
Every street was adorned with colorful banners and strings of lanterns; even in daylight, one could imagine the splendor that would follow into the night.
The crowds thronged shoulder to shoulder; their clothing varied: there were herdsmen in fur coats, merchants with bound legs, soldiers in simple leather armor, and many more ordinary border residents with weathered faces but radiant smiles.
The air was filled with the intense aroma of roasted beef and mutton, the pungent smell of alcohol, and a kind of almost boiling, pure jubilation.
After much searching, they finally found a reasonably clean and tidy inn amidst the crowd; the sign read “Guiyun Inn.” Handing their horses to the attentive waiter, the three entered the somewhat noisy hall and found a table by the window.
The hall was already mostly full, bustling with conversation.
They ordered some dishes with a distinctly frontier flavor—a large bowl of steaming hot hand-pulled mutton, golden-brown and crispy naan bread sprinkled with coarse salt and unknown spices, and a strong-smelling milk wine in a leather bag.
Xie Ciyun, being young, couldn’t suppress his curiosity.
He frequently glanced at the almost impenetrable crowd outside the window, then looked towards the distant square where the flickering lights and banners were faintly visible.
He asked a young waiter who was busy and sweating profusely, “Waiter, what are they celebrating in the city with all this commotion?” The waiter deftly wiped the already clean tabletop with a rag, a radiant smile of pride on his face.
He answered fluently, “Gentlemen, you must have come from afar!
It’s obvious!
Today is the most important ‘Iron Alliance Festival’ of our Thirteen Border Alliances!
It’s a day to commemorate the day fifteen years ago when the heroes, soldiers, and commoners of our thirteen border cities swore a blood oath, vowing to unite as one and fight against foreign aggression!
Do you see that newly erected, towering black iron tiger statue in the center of the square?” He pointed to a direction outside the window, even though the view was blocked by buildings.
“That’s the symbol of our ‘Phoenix Commander’!
I heard from the master craftsmen that it took almost half a year just to melt and cast the iron!
When it gets dark and the sacrificial ceremony begins, and the sacred fire is lit, that will be truly spectacular!
The city lord and the important figures in the alliance will all be there, and who knows…
even the Phoenix Commander himself might show up!” He lowered his voice at the end, his eyes shining with excitement, as if he were sharing an incredible secret.
“Commander Feng?” Gu Anqi’s heart skipped a beat.
This was the key person his master’s wife had mentioned, the one they had to seek refuge with on this journey.
In both the martial world and the imperial court, he was respectfully called “Commander Feng.” All that was known was that he came from the Feng family of the North, a descendant of a military family; more information was like the sand and fog shrouding the border, blurry and difficult to discern.
Judging from the waiter’s words, this Commander Feng’s prestige on the border seemed far beyond his imagination.
“Yes!” The waiter’s eyes lit up with an almost devout fervor, and his voice rose unconsciously, prompting several local-looking diners at the next table to nod in agreement.
“Sir, you’ve come to the right place!
As for Marshal Feng, he’s truly a god-like figure!
The older generation, especially those who experienced the catastrophe fifteen years ago, could tell you about him for three days and three nights!” He simply draped the rag over his shoulder, leaned slightly forward, as if to recount a sacred legend, his voice rising and falling: “It is said that fifteen years ago, before the Iron Alliance was established, the China tribe of the Oirat in the north gathered tens of thousands of iron cavalry, a dark mass like locusts sweeping across the land, threatening to massacre the city!
At that time, the General of the North, who was guarding this place, led most of the main force out of the city, taking advantage of the terrain to challenge the enemy, trying to draw them away.
What remained in the city, besides the old and weak, were about…
two hundred women and children who couldn’t escape!
Everyone felt that the city could not be defended, and the cries shook the heavens.” He took a breath, his gaze becoming distant, as if he could see the scene from years past through time: “But guess what?
Back then, Commander Feng wasn’t yet the leader of the Thirteen Alliances.
She was in the army, a young general no one knew—I heard she had only just come of age!
And she was all alone!
Carrying a long sword, she turned and entered the city gate, which was practically deserted, and slammed the gate shut with a ‘bang’!
She stood in the shadow of that gate opening and said to the panicked old captain who was left behind, ‘This gate won’t open from the inside until the general returns.
You all, stay hidden.'” The noise in the hall had subsided at some point, and many diners, including some who appeared to be merchants from out of town, pricked up their ears.
The waiter’s narration was vivid: “The next three days and three nights were truly…
hell on earth!
The Oirat people discovered that their main force had been lured away and the city’s defenses were weak, so how could they let it go?
Their vanguard cavalry pounced like wolves, setting up ladders and throwing grappling hooks, scaling the walls from all directions!
Commander Feng was all alone, guarding an empty city, fighting a bloody battle against those Oirat soldiers who scaled the walls for three days and three nights!” His voice trembled slightly with excitement: “The most dangerous time was when I heard that a small group of elite Oirat troops smashed through a long-neglected low wall on the west side and charged into the old granary courtyard where women and children were housed, howling!
Just when it seemed like a tragedy was about to occur, Commander Feng appeared out of nowhere, covered in blood—I don’t know if it was her own or the enemy’s—and blocked the gate alone.
Her sword was worn dull from the fighting, so she grabbed an enemy spear and continued to fight!
She didn’t let a single Oirat soldier cross the threshold!
Three days later, when General Zhenbei fought a bloody battle, defeated the enemy’s main force, and anxiously led his troops back…
guess what he saw?” His voice was low, but he couldn’t suppress his excitement: “The enemy’s corpses are piled up like small mountains throughout the city!
Commander Feng is standing on top of the highest mountain of corpses and sea of blood at the city gate.
His silver soft armor is stained dark red with blood and frozen into a hard shell.
He grips the broken sword with a dull blade tightly in his hand; his knuckles are white and blue.
He is like a nail, not moving an inch!
When the general rushed into the city, the first thing he did was rush to the granary courtyard to check…
Guess what?
Of the two hundred and thirty-seven women and children left in the city, not a single one was hurt!
Not a single one was missing!
They were all safely hiding in the cellars and in the walls.
Only a few children were crying because they were scared, and their mothers covered their mouths tightly.” Silence reigned.
The only sounds in the hall were heavy breathing and the crackling of the fire.
The waiter’s eyes lit up as he leaned closer, speaking mysteriously, “The older generation also says that during those three nights, besides the shouts of battle, we could faintly hear tiger roars coming from the city, one after another, shaking people to their core…
That’s why we erected that iron tiger statue in the center of the square to commemorate our alliance.
After that battle, Commander Feng truly became famous throughout the border!
Tell me, if it weren’t for Commander Feng’s life and his sword, protecting this city and preserving the roots of these people, how could the thirteen cities have later shown such admiration and allegiance, swearing a blood oath?
How could we have this unbreakable thirteen-alliance border alliance that strikes fear into the hearts of foreign enemies?
How could we be able to do business, live our lives, and celebrate this ‘Iron Alliance Festival’ in peace?” Hearing this vivid and astonishingly detailed description, Gu Anqi, Achen, and Xie Ciyun were all deeply shaken and speechless for a long time.
The resolute loneliness of “defending an empty city alone,” the ferocity and extreme intensity of “three days and nights of bloody battle,” and the near-miraculous result of “not a single woman or child being injured” transcended the realm of ordinary warriors, revealing a fierce will of a lone wolf protecting its nest, fighting to the death without retreat.
And the legend of the “tiger’s roar” faintly echoing amidst the bloody battle at the end shrouded this incredible achievement in an inhuman and mysterious hue, elevating it beyond the realm of mere bravery and stepping into the realm of legend and totem.
Was that tiger’s roar real or an illusion?
Was it a symbol evolved from the astonishing aura unleashed in a life-or-death situation, passed down through word of mouth among the people, or was there truly some unseen, divine connection?
This doubt stirred within them a more complex emotion than their original plans and considerations regarding the commander, whom they had only heard of but never seen—it wasn’t just admiration for his formidable military prowess and sense of responsibility, but also a mixture of curiosity and a desire to explore the “legend” itself.
The image of this Phoenix Commander grew ever more profound and enigmatic in their minds.
After the meal, they slowly moved towards the city center square, following the increasingly surging crowd.
Although the sacrificial ceremony hadn’t officially begun, the area beneath the massive black iron tiger tally statue was already packed with border residents, their faces beaming with genuine gratitude, fervor, and pride.
They heard the constant chatter around them, all fragments about “General Feng”— “I heard that last winter, a white blizzard struck, and several small tribes in the northern desert froze to death, killing their cattle and sheep.
Unable to survive, they tried to force their way into the border market.
It was Commander Feng who personally led troops to stop them.
Without resorting to violence, he opened the official granaries and exchanged grain for food at a fair price, allowing them to work as a form of relief to repair the city walls.
That’s how they prevented any chaos…” “More than that!
How vicious are the ‘Sand Scorpion’ bandits on the salt road to the east?
They rob caravans and kill people without blinking an eye.
Last time they offended the alliance, Commander Feng led his personal guard and wiped out more than a dozen of their hideouts in less than a month.
The leader’s head is still hanging on the flagpole!” “Commander Feng treats his men very well, but military law is terrifyingly strict!
Last time, Wang Laowu’s son missed his patrol because he was drinking in the camp, and he was given thirty lashes; his buttocks were bruised and battered, and Wang Laowu didn’t dare to utter a word; he even had to say that he was beaten well…” “My cousin works as a clerk in the league.
He says that Commander Feng can read the accounts even better than the old accountant.
No one can fool him out of a single penny…” Each and every one of these events paints a picture of a majestic, powerful figure, deeply loved by the military and civilians, yet seemingly shrouded in armor and radiance.
Gu Anqi listened quietly, her gaze sweeping across the crowd before settling on the massive iron tiger statue, its ferocity and majesty amplified by the deepening twilight.
The tiger roared, its head held high, its posture domineering and imposing, every line brimming with explosive power.
This was her embodiment at the border, her symbol, her emblem of authority.
It subtly resonated with the cold bronze token in his arms—a token representing past affections, connected to another identity and another secret—creating a distant, unknowable echo.