Prologue
In the twenty-first year of Zhengkang, winter.
Xiao Yi would never forget that day. At seven years old, he knelt in the snow at the foot of Qinghu Mountain. Warm corpses lay scattered across the ground. Soldiers wiped their blades before his eyes, drops of blood falling one by one, staining the vast white earth red.
Frost clung to the branches. His limbs were as stiff as withered wood, his whole body chilled to the bone.
The world revered those who had reached the pinnacle of martial arts, exalting them like gods under the name of mountains and rivers. And now, one of the Six Rivers—renowned for the word “hero”—stood before him.
Zhou Mingfang walked over, looking down at Xiao Yi from above, a trace of reluctance on his face. “Don’t blame us for being ruthless. If you must blame someone, blame the fact that you were born into the imperial family. We are only carrying out orders.”
Xiao Yi was pinned beneath a tree. Behind him, a soldier raised a long blade, its edge flashing with a blinding silver light.
Just as the blade was about to fall, someone spoke, “Brother Zhou, the Second Prince’s order was to bring him alive to the agreed location. If we disobey…”
“Do you not know what kind of person Xiao Bin is?” Zhou Mingfang said. “Think of the children in his residence. This is the younger brother he hates most. Sending this child to some desolate wilderness for him—wouldn’t that be even more inhumane?” He nodded to the executioner. “Do it.”
At that moment, the sharp neigh of a horse rang out. Everyone turned.
The figure drew closer. A valiant woman leapt from her horse, holding a long spear. Snow scattered from her shoulders as the wind lifted her garments. Her features were gentle, yet she carried an aura as steady as thunder.
This was Xiao Yi’s first time seeing Pei Nai. With just one glance, he would remember her for the rest of his life. Many years later, he would still dream of this moment—of a woman crossing thousands of miles alone, just to take him home.
“Who goes there?” Zhou Mingfang asked.
The woman spun her spear and planted it at her side. “The Pei family spear—Pei Nai.”
At the sound of that familiar name, Xiao Yi’s eyelids trembled.
His mother had once told him that his mute uncle had married an extraordinary woman—his aunt—the sole descendant of the Pei family.
At the time, he had not understood the weight of those words. Only later did he realize that behind her stood the entire Pei family army.
“The Northern Pursuit Spear of the Upper Three Mountains?” Zhou Mingfang looked her over, unmoving, a faint smile on his lips. “General Pei Hao is dead, Guo Min is far at the frontier. And you, so young, dare to call yourself the Pei family spear?”
Pei Nai did not tie her horse. She stepped through the thick snow, approaching slowly.
Her gaze swept over the corpses on the ground, her eyes flashing with cold fury. “I have no desire to waste words with you. Hand over Xiao Yi, and I will leave your bodies intact.”
Laughter erupted around them. Zhou Mingfang stepped forward slightly. “You came here alone. Did your husband Gu Jinheng’s men at Xiaoyang Pass fall into our trap?”
“Your master Xiao Bin is only good at bribing eunuchs,” Pei Nai replied calmly. “Yes, I arrived a step too late—they fell into the trap. But aren’t you curious how I found this place?”
Zhou Mingfang’s expression changed. “The people at Xiaoyang Pass…”
“They were loose-tongued,” Pei Nai said. “Before dying, they confessed everything.”
“Alone?” Zhou Mingfang sneered, lifting a long ancient silver axe. “Then I’d like to see this so-called Pei family spear for myself.”
He charged forward, raising the axe high before bringing it down with crushing force.
Pei Nai sidestepped, narrowly avoiding the blow. Her spear, black as ink, spun in her hand, tracing a half-circle and slicing across Zhou Mingfang’s arm and chest. Blood splattered onto the axe handle, forcing him to pull back.
“You shouldn’t have held back,” she said, disappointment in her eyes.
Zhou Mingfang glanced at his wound, excitement rising. He swung again, faster and fiercer. His attacks grew increasingly relentless, and Pei Nai began to struggle under the pressure.
Seizing a fleeting opening, she blocked the axe with her spear, breaking his momentum.
“The Three Earth-Splitting Strikes… You’re Zhou Mingfang, the Heaven Axe of Tao River?” she asked.
He smiled. “Sharp eyes. I’ve rarely met an equal—today will be a satisfying battle!”
He abandoned all restraint, his axe strikes carrying deadly intent. Pei Nai dodged, anger burning in her chest. “Why would a descendant of Tao River serve Xiao Bin like a dog?”
“Because your Pei family chose the wrong side.”
His attacks left no openings. As her strength waned, Pei Nai clenched her teeth and met his strike head-on. The blade struck her spear and stopped. The famed Heaven Axe, capable of splitting rivers and shattering earth, failed to break through—leaving only a shallow mark.
Zhou Mingfang tilted his head. “Not the Northern Pursuit Spear… but still interesting.”
“This spear is called Guimo,” Pei Nai said. “You, who are about to die beneath it, should know its name.”
She spun the spear and struck. A sharp arc of force cut through the air, leaving a bloody mark across his chest.
Zhou Mingfang braced himself with his axe, barely standing. “The third form of the Pei family spear—‘Piercing Clouds and Armor’—truly lives up to its name.”
Before she could react, he hurled the axe. It spun through the air like a massive blade.
Xiao Yi cried out, but Pei Nai was a moment too slow. She avoided the fatal strike, but the axe carved deeply into her left arm.
She staggered, dropping to one knee.
Zhou Mingfang walked toward his embedded weapon. “Careless… descendant of the Northern Pursuit Spear.”
Pei Nai lowered her head, her face pale.
“You didn’t have to do this,” he said. “No one would dare touch the Pei family. Stay neutral, and no matter who takes the throne, you’d live well. Why gamble centuries of honor?”
“In times of chaos, who can remain untouched?” she replied.
She tore her sleeve, packed snow against her bleeding wound. The freezing cold numbed the pain instantly.
“The crown prince is incompetent. Xiao Bin is cruel. I’m saving Xiao Yi not only because he is my nephew—but because he is Tianyao’s only hope.”
Zhou Mingfang’s gaze softened with admiration.
In the bitter wind, Pei Nai smiled faintly. “You are the strongest opponent I’ve faced so far… but only until now.”
Her spear spun, lifting snow as she charged. Their weapons clashed with a deafening sound.
She pressed forward, then pivoted, switching hands and driving the spear harder, striking his chest with a kick.
Wounded, Zhou Mingfang staggered back.
Her spear swept again, striking the axe handle. His counterattack faltered.
She spun, snow swirling around her, then leapt into the air.
The spear descended like a falling star, splitting the ground, sending up walls of snow that collapsed in an instant.
The ninth form of the Pei family spear—Shifting the Realm.
Blood poured into the cracked earth. Zhou Mingfang collapsed, unrecognizable.
Silence fell.
No one could believe the Heaven Axe had fallen to a woman’s spear.
His men roared and charged, but against her, they were like children. Her movements were flawless, overwhelming.
This was the power that upheld Tianyao—the Pei family spear.
One by one, they fell.
Blades flashed like lightning. Blood soaked the land.
When the final enemy fell, silence returned.
Pei Nai walked toward Xiao Yi.
She said nothing, only extended her blood-stained hand.
His frozen fingers trembled as he reached out—but he could not stand.
“Injured legs?” she asked.
“Yes,” he murmured.
She crouched. “Climb on. I’ll carry you.”
He hesitated, then slowly climbed onto her back. She lifted him and stood.
Nearby, Zhou Mingfang stirred faintly. With his last breath, he whispered, “Do you know why I helped Xiao Bin?”
No one answered.
“Your husband… is ambitious. Even if you succeed… this world may not bear the Xiao name.”
Then he fell still.
Pei Nai carried Xiao Yi away.
“Are you afraid?” she asked.
“Of what?”
“So many deaths.”
“I’m used to it.”
She smiled faintly. “You speak like an old man.”
After a pause, he asked, “Why help me?”
“Each generation of the Pei family protects the land and serves a ruler. This generation, only I remain. And among the Xiao family… only you are worth it.”
She adjusted him on her back. “It seems fate has chosen you.”
He fell silent.
That night, and many after, she told him stories—of mountains, rivers, and heroes.
Though he had heard them all before, listening to her voice, he would always fall asleep.
When they reached Chaoyang, he met his uncle, Gu Jinheng.
Over the next three years, Xiao Yi witnessed power struggles and rising ambitions.
Then, in the twenty-fourth year of Zhengkang, the emperor died.
The crown prince was assassinated.
Xiao Bin fled, then allied with the Wuzu, offering cities in exchange for power.
War broke out.
The Pei family army became their only hope.
Pei Nai took command and went to war.
She fought the enemy leader, Tuoba Huo—the Western Cold Blade.
They were equals.
She killed him.
At the cost of her own life.
Xiao Yi remembered the nights they had fled together.
All heroes seemed to share the same fate.
A tragic end.
He later learned the truth—his uncle, Gu Jinheng, had used her… and ultimately led her to her death.
Once, she had taken him to listen to music on riverboats.
There was a song he had not understood then—but now, he could not hear it without tears:
“Two hearts once grew old with the mountains,
Now the long wind hides the tears.
You raise your cup and laugh it off—
Across from you stands only the world, cold and vast.”