Chapter 49

The night was pitch black, shrouded in an impenetrable darkness where one could not see their own hand. At this moment, not only were the characters on the notice illegible, but even the larger characters on the plaques, compared to the mulberry-bark paper, were impossible to make out.

A cold gaze swept over the scene, remaining as unruffled as ever. Quanjie led his men forward once more.

Both the patrol routes and the layout of the target residence were well within Quanjie's grasp. The former could be ascertained by sending men to scout at night; as for the latter, a single visit to the property agent was sufficient.

Those two grand mansions had once been listed for sale. Even if the agent had no diagrams on hand, sketching a layout based on his verbal description was not a difficult task.

Roughly the time it takes to drink two cups of tea later, Quanjie arrived before the great mansion. Just as before, he chose a section of the outer wall near a tree, first scaling the wall to enter the estate, then nimbly climbing the tree.

He listened intently for a moment, hearing no footsteps around, yet Quanjie was in no hurry to call the others in. Like a leopard lurking in the forest, he lay perfectly still, waiting only for the most opportune moment.

One quarter of an hour passed, then two...

He didn't know how long it had been, until he had seen two teams of night watchmen pass by and move into the distance. After cautiously waiting another quarter of an hour, Quanjie finally let out a bird-call whistle.

The men outside the wall moved in unison upon hearing the signal.

...

Bai Jianping, as the Southern Tun Commander of the Xuanxiao Cavalry, naturally possessed other exceptional qualities besides his superb martial skills and talent for command.

Perhaps due to having lived deep in the mountains since childhood, he was particularly sensitive to the sounds of various animals and could roughly discern the emotions within the calls of birds and beasts.

This was Bai Jianping's own claim. Mo Yanyun and the others were all half-convinced, half-doubting, sometimes even mocking him for being a lucky blind cat stumbling upon a dead mouse. Of course, this didn't hinder his near-flawless record.

Bai Jianping had an exceptional alcohol tolerance, able to drink a thousand cups without falling over. This man didn't get drunk, but after drinking too much, he would eventually fall asleep and then wake up needing to relieve himself.

Scratching his head, he climbed out of bed, muttering complaints about how having a high alcohol tolerance could sometimes be a nuisance. As he stepped down, however, because no lamp was lit in the room, he accidentally kicked the low cabinet beside the bed.

The kick sent a sharp pain shooting through his toes.

Bai Jianping jolted awake, his drowsiness instantly scattering by nine-tenths. Before he could even clutch his throbbing toes, he suddenly heard a bird-call whistle.

Bai Jianping froze, turning his head to look out the window.

He hadn't closed the window before sleeping, and now the night wind was rushing in with a whoosh, occasionally accompanied by the rumble of distant thunder.

Rain was coming.

Birds return to their nests to shelter before rain, but he had wandered around this mansion earlier; it was tidied up everywhere, with no bird nests under the eaves or on the windowsills.

Let alone that bird-call whistle just now...

Bai Jianping frowned, immediately grabbing the sword by his pillow and walking out, weapon in hand.

The mansion was large, with many rooms. Bai Jianping, used to living alone, had taken a room for himself upon entering the estate. The outer chamber should have been empty at this hour, yet as soon as he reached the turn leading from the inner chamber outward, he unexpectedly ran into several dark figures.

Caught completely off guard, both sides were startled.

"Who are you? Guards! Assassins!" Bai Jianping bellowed. His voice was as loud as a great bell, exploding through the silence and carrying far.

The leader of the group said nothing, simply raising his sword and charging forward.

Seeing this, the several black-clad figures around him, with the young man at their core, flanked Bai Jianping from both sides in a pincer movement, attacking simultaneously.

In the darkness, sharp blades stirred fierce gusts, each move revealing deadly intent.

Alarm bells rang loudly in his mind. Not daring to split his focus, Bai Jianping stopped shouting and concentrated fully on dealing with the onslaught before him.

"Clang, clang—"

In the dark, the sound of metal clashing sent chills down one's spine.

Outnumbered in the blackness and facing opponents who cooperated with extraordinary tacit understanding and were better adapted to the darkness than he was—having only just risen from bed—Bai Jianping was at a significant disadvantage.

As a sharp pain shot through his arm repeatedly, and he distinctly felt a sticky, wet liquid trickling down his forearm, Bai Jianping cursed under his breath.

The situation was dire. If this continued, he'd be dead long before reinforcements arrived.

No good, he needed a different tactic.

The darkness enveloped everyone like a tide. As the fight pushed further into the room, and with Bai Jianping constantly dodging by sound, even trying to blend in among his attackers, the battle gradually became confused, friend and foe indistinguishable, reaching a stalemate.

Right at that moment—

"Fzzt."

A flame suddenly appeared. The leader of the group had lit a candle in the room.

This flicker of light was not strong, but it was enough for the men in the room to discern their surroundings. Bai Jianping, having risen in the middle of the night, wore no outer robe, only a set of white undergarments, which stood in stark contrast to their uniform black.

The black-clad men's spirits soared, and they advanced in unison once more.

Looking at his two bloody arms, Bai Jianping sucked in a sharp breath. Without the slightest hesitation, he fought while retreating, backing up from the inner chamber doorway all the way to the bedside. Beside the bed was a low table with an open bottom shelf. Using his sword to block a blade from the side, he swiftly hooked the table with his long leg and then swept it forcefully towards his opponents.

They immediately raised their blades to hack it apart.

The long table instantly shattered into several pieces, scattering to the floor like fallen petals.

Seizing this brief opening, Bai Jianping quickly dashed to a nearby small window, braced his hands on the sill, and with a leap, flipped out through the window.

Bai Jianping ran barefoot, his hair disheveled.

Just as he was about to shout another warning, he suddenly saw a crowd of people surging through the courtyard gate. Bai Jianping let out a long sigh of relief, not forgetting to grumble, "You lot, whose brains are addled by wine, finally show up. Any later and you might as well not bother rescuing me, just collect my corpse."

Feng Feng laughed instantly. "Don't worry, the wicked live a thousand years. You won't die."

Seeing them about to charge into the room, Bai Jianping shouted a reminder, "There are at least six of them. They work together seamlessly, and their skills are all exceptional. Be careful."

"Got it. No need to show off here."

Bai Jianping's mouth twitched.

Inside the room.

The moment Bai Jianping flipped out the window, Quanjie knew the mission had failed.

As for why the target was awake and armed in the middle of the night after heavy drinking, why he had his sword at hand despite being in undergarments, why the initial assault hadn't succeeded...

None of that mattered anymore. The priority now was to retreat from this place.

"Where do you think you're going!"

Feng Feng and Kuang Ye rushed in just in time to see them fleeing through a window on the other side. A fierce glint flashed in Feng Feng's eyes. He immediately drew a short dagger from his waist and hurled it.

The white blade traced a streak of light through the air, plunging into the back shoulder of a black-clad figure not far away.

The man jolted in pain, his movements faltering. As he slowed, Kuang Ye's long sword instantly caught up. Amid a spray of blood, a round head was completely severed, sent flying.

A headless corpse thudded to the floor.

Two black-clad intruders remained in the room, not yet having escaped through the window. One had just reached the window and was about to leap out when a small stool flew from behind, its aim remarkably true, striking the man squarely on the head.

With a loud "thud," the man was smashed dizzy.

Feng Feng darted forward from the side in a swift stride, blocking the window.

Inside the room, it was now several against two, with one of the black-clad men injured. Before long, one was cut down by Kuang Ye's blade, and the other was captured alive.

"Chief Feng, six were killed outside, two escaped," a guard reported from beyond.

Feng Feng's brow twitched. "Escaped? Two got away? Did you give chase? They must be caught!"

"We did," the guard's voice lowered a notch. "But it started raining... they'll likely get away..."

Boom—

With a clap of thunder, the initial light drizzle rapidly intensified, transforming into a torrential downpour in an instant.

The heavy rain could wash away and conceal many things—tracks, and even the sound of footsteps.

Feng Feng frowned in irritation. "It's over. When the Lord learns of this, we're in for a reprimand." To have the manor infiltrated in the dead of night, resulting in Bai Jianping's injury and two escaping... it was a disaster.

Kuang Ye asked, "Were the two who fled injured?"

"During the fight, they moved positions too quickly. With the rain washing the blood from the blades, we can only confirm at least one was injured. But..." The guard hesitated for a moment. "Both were highly skilled. Even if injured, it wouldn't have been a critical wound."

"Truly finished. Not only did they escape, but the ones who got away are still in fighting shape." Feng Feng looked despondently at Kuang Ye beside him. "They won't be foolish enough to stay together in Yun County after this; they'll be scattered. Finding them won't be easy. How do we report this to the Lord?"

Kuang Ye immediately averted his gaze, delivering a swift kick that sent a bound man—trussed up like a zongzi—sprawling. "Where is your hideout?!"

The man remained silent.

"Hey, don't kick him to death. The priority now is reporting... Ah, I see! Kuang Ye, you're doing this on purpose, aren't you? Deliberately changing the subject at a time like this! Fine, you can be the one to explain this to the Lord."

Main courtyard, side chamber.

The side chamber was shrouded in darkness. From a distance, it seemed the occupants had settled into peaceful slumber, but drawing closer, one could hear faint movements from within.

The two plain bed curtains inside were drawn tightly shut without a single gap. Wind seeped through the slightly ajar window, occasionally causing the curtains to ripple like waves.

Yet no matter how the wind blew, it could not part them enough to peer through.

Until...

A slender, pale leg slipped out from between the curtains. Once the knee cleared the edge of the bed, the calf, marked with faint rosy traces, bent naturally, the toes lightly tapping the footboard in a gentle rhythm.

Through the small gap opened by the leg, one could glimpse swathes of dark and white within.

The dark figure above was astride the snowy expanse below. With the slight shuddering of the bed, heavy breaths mingled with soft, muffled whimpers.

The pinkish-white toes curled slightly against the footboard. Just as a heel began to rub against the wooden surface, a large, rough hand with prominent knuckles reached out from within the curtains, firmly grasping that slender calf.

A bit of soft, pale flesh bulged between his fingers. The thumb of that large hand stroked it once before pulling the leg back inside.

Suddenly, noises came from outside, as if someone was calling out loudly.

Qin Yanzhou's movements paused briefly, then he buried his head down again as if nothing had happened.

Dai Li hadn't heard the first call, only the thunderclap and the relentless patter of rain. Perhaps it was her imagination, but she thought she heard another sound mixed with the rain... like someone calling "My Lord" from the adjacent room.

"I think someone's talking outside," Dai Li murmured. Her voice was soft, carrying a subtle, languid huskiness, like peony leaves wrinkled by dew.

"My Lord!" The call came again from next door, accompanied by knocking.

Dai Li jolted, instantly snapping out of her daze.

Qin Yanzhou lifted his head from between her plump, lush thighs, the tendons in his neck bulging then subsiding. "My lady, relax."

She ignored him, her gaze fixed nervously on the world beyond the curtains.

Qin Yanzhou reached out, pinched her delicate chin, and turned her face back towards him, sealing her red lips with a kiss while simultaneously intensifying his pace.

...

"My Lord."

Kuang Ye stood under the eaves of the main house, raising his hand to knock once more. The pouring rain muffled all other sounds, preventing him from hearing any movement inside.

Strange, Kuang Ye thought to himself.

The Lord was not one to sleep so soundly that not even a flood could wake him. He had knocked three times and called out several times, yet there was no response.

Could it be the Lord wasn't in his room?

Just as this thought surfaced, he heard the faint creak of a door opening from the side.

Kuang Ye's first assumption was that he had inadvertently disturbed Lady Dai. He turned, ready to apologize, but instead saw a tall, imposing figure emerge from the side chamber.

It was precisely the man he sought.

Kuang Ye blinked his honest, dog-like eyes, all emotion perfectly concealed, presenting the picture of an oblivious, straightforward man.

"My Lord, there were assassins in the manor..."

Within Yun County City.

After shaking off their pursuers, Quanjie and his sole remaining companion did not immediately return to the inn. They stood under an eave, sheltering from the rain.

"The mission failed. How do we explain this to our Patron?" one asked.

Quanjie replied impassively, "We report the truth."

The other man gave a cold laugh. "Fine, you report it then. You're the Patron's adopted son, after all. Others face 'success or death,' but you get special leniency. You're the most suitable to deliver the news."

Quanjie's tone remained flat. "You asked me to stay just to say this?"

"Is that not allowed?" the man retorted.

Without another word, Quanjie stepped directly into the rain, his figure soon vanishing from sight.

The man left behind ground his teeth, muttering, "What's there to be so arrogant about? Do you really think the Patron sees you as a son?"

Quanjie returned to the inn silently. He removed his wet clothes, changed back into his daytime attire, and mechanically lay down on the bed, closing his eyes to rest.

...

The next day, the sky cleared after the rain.

The inn courtyard housed two trees. The heavy rain overnight had littered the ground with fallen leaves.

Besides the leaves, the wind had blown in various bits of debris: someone's lost trousers and undergarments, wildflower petals, and... a sheet of mulberry-bark paper that had landed on the veranda.

A young servant tidied the courtyard, muttering to himself, "Last night's rain was immense, you'd think the sky had cracked. Now there's plenty to do. Hope I can get it all cleaned up in half an hour. Whose trousers blew in here? Tsk, and they have four big holes—how long have they been worn?"

He chattered on as he worked, sweeping all the leaves into a bamboo basket and sorting the ragged cloth separately. Broom in hand, he finally turned, ready to finish up.

"Huh? What's this still here?" The servant noticed the mulberry-bark paper not far away.

Unlike the clothes fully exposed in the yard, half of this paper lay on the covered veranda, half outside.

The exposed portion was thoroughly soaked, the ink on it blurred and runny. The part sheltered by the veranda had also been dampened by blown rain, but had since dried in the wind.

Just a scrap of paper, the servant thought, about to sweep it away. But a casual glance made him pause with a soft sound of surprise.

The young servant came from a poor family and had no chance to attend school. The characters he knew were all self-taught in his spare time, and he hadn't learned many—just a scattered few.

The characters for "reward" and "money" happened to be among them.

"Reward money? There's reward money to be had?" The servant's eyes lit up, but looking further down, he couldn't understand the rest of the content.

The servant immediately grew anxious and hurriedly picked up the mulberry bark paper, only...

The mulberry bark paper, having been soaked in water, lay in the courtyard in two separate pieces, immobile. Only the half that had taken shelter under the eaves ended up in the servant's hands.

"Oh dear, how did it tear?" the servant lamented. However, after glancing at the half on the ground where the writing was now illegible, his regret faded. "Never mind, you can't make out the words on that piece anyway."

He took the half-sheet of mulberry bark paper back to the main hall and called for the innkeeper, who was also his distant uncle. "Uncle Ping, I just saw what looked like the words 'reward money' on this. Could you take a look and tell me what exactly is written on this paper?"

Reward money—perhaps he had a chance to get it.

"Go tell the kitchen that the guest from earlier wants an extra egg in his noodle soup," the innkeeper instructed as he took the paper.

The servant hurried off to deliver the message. When he returned, he saw the innkeeper's grave expression. "Uncle Ping, what does the paper actually say?"

The innkeeper said, "This is a notice offering a heavy reward for finding someone. They're looking for a nine-year-old child with short hair. The child's name is Qin Yan... chuan? That doesn't seem to be the character 'chuan.' It's 'zhou.' Ah, yes, it's 'zhou.' The ink blot has run, but it's definitely 'zhou.' The child's name is Qin Yanzhou."

A long scraping sound, followed by a thud, rang through the hall as a chair was pushed back and fell over.

Both the innkeeper and the servant were startled and looked up simultaneously. They saw a man standing alone in the middle of the hall, staring rigidly in their direction.

Meeting that fearsome face, marred by what looked like keloid scars, the servant paled and whispered, "Uncle Ping, that man's face is truly horrifying, and his eyes are so strange."

The servant had a very strong impression of this guest because his face was excessively ugly. The old, hardened scars looked like flesh worms, occupying large areas of his face.

When he had attended to this person earlier, he hadn't dared to look too closely, fearing nightmares at night. Was this demon-like man staring at him because he had overheard the comments he'd muttered under his breath earlier...?

The "flesh worms" twitched. The servant was terrified, but it seemed the man was unaccustomed to making large facial expressions. The initial wave of shock on his surface gradually settled back into calmness.

Those eyes remained wooden, seemingly an endless void, yet they strangely gave the feeling that something was trying to stir and emerge from within.

The servant watched as the man strode swiftly to stand before them and silently raised a hand.

He clearly intended to take the mulberry bark paper from the innkeeper's hand, but just as his fingertips were about to touch it, he jerked them back as if his hand had been sharply slapped.

Quanjie stood rooted to the spot, his gaze blank.

Is this a dream?

Would it be like the thousand other times before—all false, nothing but the delusions born from his years of struggling in the mire? A pitiful illusion, an unreachable mirage, a desperate fantasy conjured just as he was finally about to lose his mind.