Jingzhou—a name that really gets the blood pumping for a lot of folks. Thanks to Lord Guan’s legendary lack of caution, this place is dripping with historical vibes. Since we’re all martial artists here, way more spry than your average Joe, we didn’t bother with the city docks. Instead, we just found a good spot out in the wild and leapt off the boat.
Horses burst out of the ship’s hold, swimming to the shore. These restless creatures had been cooped up for two days—now they were tearing around like kids at recess. The Black Stallion King neighed and pranced, practically bouncing with excitement, like it was itching to run a marathon. If we’d disembarked in Jingzhou proper, these magnificent horses alone would’ve drawn a crowd. So much for keeping things low-key.
Jill Young vaulted onto her horse, giving its head a pat and rubbing its face. “Charcoal, you didn’t get seasick, did you?”
The black horse nudged her hand with its nose, as if to answer.
Charcoal—that’s what she named her black steed. Not exactly a flashy name, on par with calling a horse 'Barnyard.' Most folks would go for something grand like 'Moonlit Lion' or 'Midnight Snowhoof' to match its stamina. But when Wu Zhengfeng asked why she picked such a plain name, Jill just shrugged: “Charcoal—because it burns.”
“Weren’t you going to turn into ‘Jia Tengying’?” Wu Zhengfeng asked, eyeing Jill. Right now, aside from a new hair color, she looked just like herself.
“No need for Eagle Lord to show up right now, so I’m staying as is. Besides, after reshaping my muscles and bones, I always feel off—can’t even use my full strength.” If she hadn’t been so busy tweaking her skeleton last time, would that old Daoist have gotten away? She would’ve kicked his butt for sure. “Let’s go—time to make tracks. Hyah!”
To most northerners, Jingzhou already has that distinct southern vibe—mountains, rivers, and lakes everywhere. We galloped through the wilds, crossing streams and hills. About 150 li north of Jingzhou is Jingmen, and another 200 li beyond that, you hit Xiangyang.
Xiangyang—now that’s the hot spot in the Song-Yuan standoff. The second you arrive, you can feel the whole atmosphere change.
Xiangyang sits with its back to the Han River, which is still under Han control—a huge logistical boost. That’s how Xiangyang has managed to hold out so long against the Yuan-Mongol onslaught. Our group of thirty-odd riders crested a hill across the river, looking down at the mighty Han. There stood the imposing city, ships coming and going, guards patrolling nonstop. The whole place felt on edge, ready for battle.
“This place is seriously fortified. Tall walls, thick ramparts—if the troops and townsfolk are well-trained and hold their ground, even a hundred thousand soldiers would have a tough time taking it head-on.” Wu Zhengfeng squinted at the city, then shook his head. “But if it were me leading the charge, I’d seize the upper Han River first. Chop wood, build boats upstream, then float down and cut off Xiangyang’s supply lines. Once it’s isolated, what can it do? Wouldn’t take long before they’d have to surrender.”
The No One Under Heaven crew nodded along, whispering among themselves.
The mighty Song Dynasty, sitting on the wealth of the Central Plains, with all that population and cash, ought to dominate the world. Now they’re pinning their hopes on one lonely city. And honestly, Xiangyang’s not even that secure—if a homebody like Wu Zhengfeng can figure out how to crack it, that’s just sad.
Of course, if the enemy’s army isn’t strong enough, they’d never be able to take the upper Han River. But the Yuan-Mongols are a powerhouse these days, totally capable of pulling off Wu Zhengfeng’s plan. (Fun fact: That’s exactly how Kublai Khan conquered Xiangyang.)
Wu Zhengfeng mulled it over, then sent a message to Jill Young: “If we make a move, we can’t let the Mongols run the whole show. Their army’s fierce and brutal—anyone who resists gets wiped out. If the Song Dynasty falls, no one will be able to rein in the Mongols, and things’ll get a lot more dangerous for us. So we should help Xiangyang hold out, one way or another.”
“Mm…” Wu Zhengfeng made sense, but Jill Young seemed a little distracted. She rubbed her temples, lost in thought, and replied offhandedly, “I don’t want Xiangyang to fall either.”
“What’s up?” Wu Zhengfeng asked, curious. “What are you thinking about?”
“Ever since we got here, I’ve had this nagging feeling… Oh, wait, I remember now!” Jill clapped her hands, suddenly enlightened. “No wonder I couldn’t recall—it was buried so deep!”
Dreamsea Reminiscence lets you revisit everything from the past, like watching old memories play out in vivid detail. But even then, there are limits. Nobody pays attention to every little thing all the time—some stuff’s front and center, some’s just background noise. Even in Dreamsea Reminiscence, the big stuff comes first; the rest gets filled in later.
And what she remembered this time? It was the most trivial of trivial details.
Flashback to second year of middle school—yep, that awkward phase when all the boys were obsessed with novels. The internet wasn’t everywhere yet, so bootleggers would shrink Jin Yong’s books down into dictionary-sized bricks. A bunch of guys would chip in and buy one, then tear it into pieces so everyone could sneak a section to read during class.
The upside: N people could read the story at once. The downside: unless you got the first section, everyone else was totally lost. But nobody cared—anything to read was pure bliss back then.
Jill Young’s deskmate was one of those novel fiends, and Jill got pulled in too. Until the homeroom teacher ambushed them from the back door and confiscated all their contraband, the most complete story Jill ever read was about three-quarters of Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils. Most others, she only caught a chapter or two—or just heard about them in passing.
Even if you only glanced at a page now and then, sometimes you’d catch some random tidbit. Add in the boys’ excited debates after class and the endless Hong Kong movies on TV—even if Jill never read a whole book, she still picked up the basics of Jin Yong lore.
Like, The Return of the Condor Heroes is basically about a bunch of pretty girls and a guy who loves raising birds. Legend of the Condor Heroes? Same deal, but the guy’s into shooting birds instead. No wonder Bird Guy never liked Arrow Guy—their hobbies totally clashed. That’s pretty much how it goes.
Jill’s memory dialed back to some tiny, obscure moment—she’d glanced at her deskmate’s book and caught a glimpse of something.
“Looks like there’s some good stuff near Xiangyang—like Sword Demon Dugu Qiubai’s sword tomb, and nearby, a snake gall that boosts your inner power. Don’t ask me which direction—east, west, north, or south—I forget. Let’s leave a few folks to poke around; rumor is it actually works.”
“How do you know that?”
“Some old guy from my hometown wrote a memoir about it. Might not be true, and he kept changing his story, so who knows? But it’s worth a shot—if it’s real, we score big.” Jill spurred her horse forward. “We’ve got time, so let’s push ahead. When it gets dark, we’ll camp, and tomorrow we’ll head straight for Mount Song. If all goes well, we might catch some real excitement!”
Guo Xiang, Mount Song, He Zudao—finally remembered! Isn’t this the 'Nine Yang Divine Skill' side quest from 'Scripture in Oil'? That opening chapter of Heaven Sword and Dragon Saber I never read was all about this. I almost forgot there’s a major plotline here, wedged between Condor Heroes and Dragon Saber.
Crossing the Han River, passing Xiangyang, taking forest trails through blockades, heading northeast into Henan. They rested a night in Nanyang, then hit the road at dawn. It’s over three hundred li from Nanyang to Fengdeng—ancient travel was slow, so that should take days. But with our divine-blooded horses, three hundred li sounded far but was knocked out in one morning, breaks included.
Around noon, the crew reached Fengdeng County. The town’s half-surrounded by mountains, and those hills are part of Mount Song. Mount Song splits into two: Taishi Mountain to the east, Shaoshi Mountain to the west. No Songshan Sect yet—Zuo Lengchan’s ancestors are probably still playing in the mud—so Shaolin rules the whole mountain. You can feel its influence everywhere, even in Fengdeng.
Who knows if real life will play out like the novels? Whether it’s for a side quest or the main plot—Guo Xiang, your teammate Peach Blossom Thief is online.