The first explained, “The short spear is heavy and belongs to Ge Yun Fei’s family, passed down as an ancestral weapon. Mu Xiu Quan, as the second-in-command of Xing Yun Manor, was an expert martial artist. To kill him with a thrown spear, the attack would need to be both fast and forceful. Yet the spear only penetrated his throat by three centimeters and didn’t go all the way through. This clearly indicates the use of subtle, refined strength. Someone capable of such precision must possess extraordinary martial skill. But why go through the trouble of using finesse when brute force would have sufficed?”
The second voice suggested, “Could the person have deliberately concealed their martial style?”
The first voice fell silent for a moment before responding slowly, “Perhaps they were unable to use more forceful techniques and could only rely on precision to kill.”
Under the bed, the young man in the yellow robe held his breath. A fleeting thought crossed his mind—it felt important, but he couldn’t quite grasp what it was.
The second voice asked, “Does my lord suspect that someone other than Tang Sect might be involved?”
The first voice let out a cold “hmph” and replied, “It’s too early to draw conclusions about other parties being involved. We are under the prince’s strict orders and cannot afford to be delayed by tangential matters. Capturing that individual remains our priority. Based on my assessment, they couldn’t have gone far. With the continuous rain over the past few days, the mountain roads are treacherous. Additionally, I’ve already requested the prince to issue strict orders: all routes out of the city have been sealed, and the prince’s elite soldiers are guarding every checkpoint. All horse markets are closed as well. Even if they try to flee, they won’t get far—even wings wouldn’t help them escape!”
The young man in the yellow robe, upon hearing this, couldn’t help but lament inwardly. The relay stations were sealed, the main roads cut off—how was he to reach his destination? Worse still, the mule and horse markets had been closed, meaning he couldn’t even buy a mount to continue his journey. His mind was in turmoil, and he missed the rest of the conversation entirely.
When he came to his senses, the noise outside had turned into a cacophony of shouting and neighing horses. It was clear the soldiers were leaving.
After a while, the sound of hooves gradually faded, merging with the wind and rain. Eventually, all that remained was the howling storm. The inn’s waiter muttered to himself as he walked in to lock the door.
The young man, unable to hold back any longer, waited until the waiter had gone. He curled his body, then shot forward like lightning. His mind had already calculated every possible strike the person behind him could make; even if it meant getting injured, he refused to remain under anyone’s control.
But strangely, the hand resting on his neck didn’t press down as he expected.
Once free, the young man rolled out from under the bed. With a quick motion of his hands, the wooden bed silently split into two pieces. In a low, commanding voice, he demanded, “Who are you?!”
A figure slowly stood up from the broken bed.
Dust swirled in the air, obscuring their face, but the young man could make out a person dressed in black, holding a wide-brimmed bamboo hat in their left hand.
The young man froze. “It’s you?!”
Then, a calm, quiet voice replied, “I apologize for the earlier offense. It was truly out of necessity. I hope you can forgive me.”
The young man in the yellow robe stepped back two paces, as if he hadn’t heard the words.
Before him, vivid images flashed like a living nightmare:
–– Ge Yun Fei’s short spear, hurled with deadly precision.
–– The spear’s lightning-fast speed, sharp enough to sting the skin.
–– The calm, effortless motion of a hand delivering the fatal strike.
–– The hand holding the spear.
–– The black sleeve covering the arm.
–– The wide-brimmed bamboo hat hiding much of the figure’s face.
–– Mu Xiu Quan’s bulging eyes.
–– The short spear embedded in his neck.
The young man squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the visions. “It’s you?!”
The swirling dust settled.
The figure stood right before him.
They were surprisingly young.
Their face was pale and gaunt, showing signs of weariness and fatigue.
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