Why do I have so many masters?

Wang Anfeng, dressed in his green shirt and with a sword on his back, once again set out on the path of the Wanderer, strolling on the Immortal Forgetting Imperial Road.

The clip-clop of horse hooves against the ground, the barren trees on either side retreating into the distance, there weren't many travelers, and the tranquility almost lulled him to sleep.

He didn't employ the Qinggong of Divine Thieves Sect that allowed for wind-riding and soaring through the sky, nor did he pull out that fiery-red, slender horse from Shaolin Temple.

Beneath him was but a common, red-date horse, sauntering forward at a leisurely pace, his back laden with a blue bundle containing a bit of dry provisions and some hidden weapons.

He didn't bring that dark, sheath-less Heavy Blade, nor the conspicuous horse.

In the Jianghu of Fufeng County, that blade and horse had almost become the distinctive attire of the Blade Madman of Fufeng; it was said that wealthy families and merchants had offered a small fortune just to acquire the Blade Madman's horse.

Silver coins were piled into a small mountain on the table by the door.

To not aim for the Blade Madman's actual horse, but to take one from the same breed was all it took to remove the generous reward of a thousand golden coins from there. Every day, horse dealers came and went, but none managed to carry away the money displayed outside; instead, this incident made the merchant's reputation skyrocket.

Wang Anfeng thought it over and decided to scratch off the idea of riding the fiery-red horse from his list.

It wasn't because of the news that had not yet reached him from Fufeng, but because the temperament of that horse was so dramatic that it was hard to forget. If he were to assume the Blade Madman's identity again in the future, that horse would be a glaring flaw.

Even if one didn't remember his face, they would definitely remember the haughty and unrestrained fiery-red, slender horse. Pondering this, he mused that the impression he left on others wasn't as profound as that of a foolish horse, and a subtle feeling emerged in Wang Anfeng's heart.

After the New Year, he was met with rare good weather.

The sunlight scattered over the man and his horse, its warmth breeding laziness in one's heart.

Wang Anfeng's demeanor was extremely relaxed, for there was no longer the same sense of urgency within him.

He had had quite a few encounters with the White Tiger Hall over the years, and he knew very well the level of force they presented. To charge at them now would only replay the farcical scene of an ant shaking a tree, a display of laughable overestimation.

It would appear amusing to onlookers, yet for the ant, it was a profoundly sad and pitiable spectacle.

The opponent was a Hidden Sect that could establish a foothold in the entirety of Great Qin.

Wang Anfeng knew that, although his Martial Arts might not be lacking at present, at best he could only dominate a county. Placed within the entire Northwestern Great Qin, or even the entire Jianghu of the world, he was merely an up-and-comer or someone whose skills would be commended by Martial Arts families. At most, that was it.

The world flows like a tide, people like water; a hundred years of accumulating experiences in the Jianghu. Even in the smallest streams, there are always many big fish and prawns.

Looking only at Wang Anfeng's own generation, those of the Middle Third Rank in Martial Arts were rare treasures and highly esteemed. With a Longsword in hand, few could challenge him. However, throughout hundreds of years of Jianghu's vast expanse, there have been young talents, and naturally, there have been white-haired swordsmen.

Liu Wuqiu, having endured sixty-eight years to become a Grandmaster, and Kong Taoist, who secluded himself for decades only to shatter ten miles of red lanterns with a wave of his hand, were real examples used by Senior Masters to inspire the younger generation to endure rigorous cultivation, and there were indeed a considerable number of Middle Third Rank experts in the generations above.

Looking across the world, there were even more.

In every county and state, there was certainly more than a handful, seated in the highest places, admired by the local Martial Artists.

But even so, what difference did it make?

Like the case of Mi Xingfa, also a Middle Third Rank Patrol Officer. An entire prominent family was destroyed by the people of White Tiger Hall. This vast Hidden Sect, with its perverse and violent actions, has inevitably made many enemies over decades of existence.

One more or one less person like him wouldn't make a difference. He needed to just let go and take it slow.

Just don't forget, that's all.

Wang Anfeng, with half-closed eyes, sat atop the horse.

His destination was Qingfeng Edge.

Or to be more precise, he was aiming for Qingfeng Edge to seek out traces of Jiu Zizai, a Jianghu wanderer and expert. Among the clues currently in his possession, this old man, unpredictable and carefree in the Jianghu, seemed to know the most about the issues concerning the White Tiger Hall.

Since they had met at the Great Elder's birthday celebration in Qingfeng Edge, it stood to reason that within Qingfeng Edge, he could certainly find out the approximate whereabouts of Jiu Zizai, or at least where he could obtain some news of him.

Qingfeng Edge was one of the Hidden Sects of the world, corresponding to the Heavenly Mountain Sect that claimed to be the foremost in Sword Dao within secular Sects. The location was on the outskirts of Fufeng, and for Wang Anfeng's trip, there was no need to re-enter Fufeng itself. That would actually require a detour and thus take a longer route.

All he needed was to set out from Immortal Forgetting, head straight towards the northeast, and he could directly reach a certain branch of that mountain range. When he arrived at the town at the base of the mountains, he could sell the common horse he had bought for a decent price, and using his Qinggong to continue his journey would be much easier.

He closed his eyes, letting the red-date colored common horse carry him forward along the imperial road.

This was a not-so-short journey.

..................…

The territory of Great Qin was vast enough.

At the time of its founding, there were only about twenty counties, but after countless military generals risked their lives on the battlefield, the nation expanded to over forty or fifty county cities. Until twenty years ago, Great Qin brandished its weapons across the world like a tiger leaving its cage, and within a mere three years, it swallowed up various nations, soaring to become the paramount empire overseeing seventy-two counties and eight hundred states.

The borderlands, once belonging to various nations, had been converted into ironclad defenses by the Military Family of Great Qin. Beyond the border city in the Northern Region, military camps and outposts were established every three hundred miles, coming under the jurisdiction of the Protectorate General of Northern Defense, like a circling eagle ever vigilant over the many states beyond the grasslands.

The outpost soldiers never parted with their blades, nor did they rest without their armor.

Even though the power of Great Qin Country had grown stronger by the day, friction with the nations along the border never ceased. Scarcely half a month would pass without bandits or ranger cavalry disguised as horse thieves roaming the vast, boundless grasslands, colliding and skirmishing with the Qin border defending army in various scales of conflict.

Generally speaking, foreign soldiers never got the better of Great Qin's iron troops.

After Chen Qing resigned from his position as the Protectorate General of Anxi, he wrote many things in his official report, among which was a sigh of reflection.

He said that the barbarians' blades were blunt and the Qin soldiers fierce and valiant, with five of the former hardly enough for one Qin soldier. Recently, though they had made considerable progress in craftsmanship, they were still no match for the Qin, with three barbarians barely equal to one Qin soldier. The barbarians might be wildly fierce, but this also revealed the mighty combat strength of the Qin army.

Baili Feng pushed open the door of the camp dwelling and was immediately met with a blast of cold wind that made him involuntarily tighten his collar. Still, snow from trees or some roof corner, whisked up by the wind, blew into his collar, melted, and caused him to shiver uncontrollably.

"Damn, it's cold..."

He breathed out a puff of white air.

He had always known that the border was bitterly cold, but this year's cold was beyond his expectations.

When he arrived, he even asked Tuoba Yue about it. Having lived in the Northern Lands for a long time, Tuoba Yue too had never experienced such an intense cold winter before.

Baili Feng's right hand gripped the handle of his waist saber. The copper handle, chilled after a night's exposure, chilled his touch, making him subconsciously grimace and head outside of the outpost to gaze upon the vast endless plains. Further away, the ground rose abruptly, melding into a dazzling expanse of white mountain ranges.

Blinded by the brightness, Baili Feng instinctively squinted his eyes.

Having been in the Northern Region for a month, he still hadn't fully adapted to the climate.

Glancing at the distant Snow Mountain, Baili Feng breathed out white steam, shook his body to stay warm, dressed in Mysterious Armor, and carried his Mo Blade as he walked through the camp. Soldiers he passed en route would actively salute, and he meticulously returned each gesture, without any vagueness.

After all, he was a graduate of the Great Qin Fufeng Academy, and he had voluntarily resigned from his position as Fufeng County City Defense Colonel to come to the frontier, which granted him some preferential treatment. Moreover, the document sent from Fufeng County to the border had clearly inscribed a few bold characters.

Baili Feng, studied at Great Qin Fufeng Academy.

Strategist.

That word "strategist" was even circled in bright red cinnabar for emphasis.

A strategist who volunteered for duty on the border was scarcer than a beautiful, well-bred bride. Not to mention one from an authentic Academy, the generals under the Protectorate General were somewhat heartened.

Since the old military adviser fell ill and returned to his hometown, his position had remained vacant, and the defending general Luo Yongjie promised many benefits in front of his colleagues at the Protectorate General, at great expense to himself, but at last, managed to pull over this strategist, a graduate of one of the top three academies of Great Qin, into his ranks.

Ever since the first snowfall of last winter, Luo Yongjie had been longing for this day.

Yet after all this time, instead of a refined and composed strategist dressed in a simple blue robe, he only saw a tall young man with a Mo Blade on his back, his smile bright and hearty.

It felt like after three months of anxious waiting, as if one had hurriedly gone looking for joy in the pleasure quarters, only to push open the door and not find a charming and alluring girl, but instead a young master covered in rouge and powder, waving his fingers effeminately at you.

And those fingers were as thick as slender radishes.

Luo Yongjie nearly passed out from rage on the spot.

But the Military Department's order had been issued, and no matter how much he regretted or reluctantly he felt inside, this cooked rice had turned into porridge, and he had no choice but to hold his nose and accept it.

Having thrown down his military plaque, this young man noted for being the strongest in terms of physical strength among the outpost soon became his new military adviser and strategist.

And so, a certain camp under the Protectorate General of Northern Defense of Great Qin, for the first time in its history, welcomed a strategist who could wear heavy armor, subdue wild horses, and wield a Mo Blade savagely, handling it more smoothly than even the defending generals themselves.

PS: The first chapter of the day is offered up..........