With a sharp “thud,” dirt scattered as the Yin Yang An was thrust into the ground before Zhan Ri Fei.
Huo Xiao Di’s voice rang out, clear and resolute: “Ling Long Manor never kills an unarmed man. The next time I see you, I won’t show mercy. Your path of wrongdoing will destroy you in the end. Don’t let me cross paths with you again—and stay away from this child!”
As his words fell, he sheathed his sword, grabbed Chang Hong Bi’s hand, and strode out of the temple.
This time, he didn’t look back. Perhaps he feared that if he turned around, he might change his mind.
The mountain wind howled, carrying with it the scent of endless rain. Somewhere in the distance, a lone night bird cried, its mournful song blending with the chaotic echoes of the storm, stirring unease in anyone who heard it. Huo Xiao Di’s silhouette disappeared into the night.
* * *
The grand manor stood dark and silent. Deep halls stretched one after another, shrouded in shadows.
Sparse lanterns flickered faintly amidst the trees. The air was thick with the scent of rain and faint traces of flowers. Layers of bamboo curtains hung low, shutting out the bustling world beyond but trapping the mountain’s rain-soaked essence within the temple halls.
Hua Zi Feng moved cautiously through the desolate moonlit scene, ensuring that the quickened rhythm of his heartbeat didn’t betray his presence. His footsteps were deliberate, slow enough for the hidden experts lurking in the shadows to recognize them—and to recognize him. Though he was intimately familiar with this place, he didn’t dare let his guard down.
As the eldest brother in the Hua Zi Feng family, his demeanor differed from that of Yan Zi Qing, who also served in the Jin Shi Hall. Hua Zi Feng’s meticulousness stemmed from reverence for his master, not fear.
A long corridor stretched straight to the innermost part of the manor. The distant sound of the watchman’s drum announced the third watch of the night.
Hua Zi Feng’s footsteps remained steady and measured. His face, rugged and weathered like a walnut, was clean and orderly, and his hands, well-trimmed and neat, reflected his efficiency.
Suddenly, the lamps in a heavy hall flickered to life, as though anticipating his arrival.
Hua Zi Feng stopped respectfully before the hall, hands lowered.
In front of him, layers of bamboo curtains veiled the hall, letting only sharp beams of light seep through while keeping the hall’s secrets firmly hidden.
“Commander Shao has sent a confidential letter,” Hua Zi Feng announced.
The bamboo curtain was lifted, and a young boy with his hair tied in a topknot stepped out to receive the letter. A faint scent of sandalwood accompanied the rising curtain, wafting into the air.
Amid the curling smoke, a withered, bony hand took the letter from the boy. The face that read the letter remained utterly expressionless, revealing nothing.
Perhaps any effort to discern his thoughts from his face would have been futile.
The hall was shrouded in shadows, with only a solitary candle casting a dim and flickering light. Was the hall’s master so enamored with darkness that he preferred to observe his adversaries from its depths?
The oppressive silence was broken by a somber voice from a man standing deferentially nearby.
“By now, it has been four days. If we fail to retrieve the item and it reaches the capital, even if we slaughter everyone in Xiang Yang, it will be irretrievable.”
“Do we know if Commander Shao has found any trace of the target?”
The expressionless face finally betrayed a flicker of discontent. “Shao Jizu mobilized the prince’s elite guards and half the forces of Jin Shi Hall, yet he still has nothing to show for it.”
The man beside him spoke cautiously, “Your Highness, Commander Shao faces a formidable opponent—renowned, esteemed, and resourceful. Moreover, I suspect the target, knowing the significance of this pursuit, has likely disguised themselves and taken hidden routes straight to the capital. Given the secrecy required and the constraints on Xiang Yang’s forces, Commander Shao’s difficulties are understandable.”
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