“What should we do?” Lingxi asked softly. “Why did the Hua family suddenly seek to marry a Mei daughter?”

The composition of the Crane Control Army was a military secret. Even the Mei family members couldn’t fully count all the involved families. This information was compiled into a “Secret Register” personally managed by the Emperor. Marriages of these families required the Emperor’s approval.

The Hua family likely didn’t know the Mei family’s background. If they did and still proposed marriage, it would be sheer ambition. If the Emperor learned of this, it would only harm the Hua family.

“Do you think the Emperor trusts the Hua family now?” The Old Madam caressed the fox fur covering her hand warmer, her expression calm as still water. “The Hua family’s current situation is similar to ours. They’re merely trying to use the Mei family as a stepping stone for their retreat.”

“So the Hua family knows about the Mei family’s background? Should we report this to those above?” Lingxi couldn’t grasp all the intricacies but understood this was a significant matter.

“Let’s observe a while longer,” the Old Madam replied.

…

The sky was gloomy, seeming to brew another heavy snowfall. Darkness fell early.

An Jiu, having expended considerable mental energy controlling the body’s swift movements earlier, had been in deep sleep since the Old Madam’s departure.

Yao Ye returned to Yuweichu and woke her, “My lady, it’s time for your shadow studies today.”

It was Mei Jiu who awoke, responding groggily and sitting dazed on the couch.

Yao Ye wiped her face with a damp cloth. “My lady, did the Old Madam give you any trouble?”

“Hm?” Mei Jiu pondered for a long while before answering, “I was asleep.”

Yao Ye discreetly checked Mei Jiu’s pulse. “That’s good. My lady, you’ve missed many sessions. I wonder if you can handle it now.”

“I won’t disappoint Mother’s efforts,” Mei Jiu said, her expression darkening.

Mei Jiu was like a snail; her mother’s departure left her feeling exposed. She couldn’t suppress her panic and fear. For ordinary girls, their greatest wish was to marry into a good family. She didn’t have that opportunity, leaving her future uncertain.

After preparing and having a light supper, a figure in black came to escort Mei Jiu.

On the snowy night, Mei Jiu followed silently. Though there were two people, only Mei Jiu’s footsteps in the snow could be heard.

“She’ll be fine,” the black-clad woman said.

Mei Jiu was startled.

The woman glanced at her, saying nothing more.

Last time, An Jiu attended the shadow studies in Mei Jiu’s place. Not knowing what had transpired, Mei Jiu felt uneasy. Once in the carriage, seeking reassurance, she called out, “An Jiu?”

“Get lost,” An Jiu replied.

Relieved to get a response, Mei Jiu felt less alone. Then she noticed five others in the carriage: those from the second branch and Mei Rujian.

Mei Tingyan glared at her fiercely. “Wipe that victimized look off your face! It’s disgusting!”

After the incident with the dagger in the graveyard and seeing An Jiu deal with Mei Rujian, Mei Tingyan was convinced that Mei Jiu’s pitiful act masked formidable skills.

“Don’t speak,” Mei Tingzhu said sternly.

“Mind your own business!” Mei Tingyan retorted coldly.

Mei Jiu was surprised. Hadn’t Mei Tingyan always listened to Mei Tingzhu? How had things changed so quickly?

“Is that how you speak to your elder sister?” Mei Tingjun reprimanded.

Mei Tingyan sneered, “Oh, now you want to lecture me? Where were you two when I was in danger?”

Mei Jiu lowered her gaze to her feet, trying to be invisible.

Mei Tingchun, attempting to ease the tension, asked Mei Rujian, “Big brother, why are you here this time?”

Everyone wondered what Mei Rujian could do with his foot injury still healing.

“I don’t know either. I was about to retire when someone from the shadow school came to fetch me, saying it was the Old Madam’s order,” Mei Rujian explained. He had never met the Old Madam but knew she had established the Mei family’s shadow school and was uncompromising.

Mei Tingchun said, “We’ve been training our sensitivity in darkness for days. It seems we’ll have a different lesson today.”

Agility training in darkness required strong mobility, which Mei Rujian clearly couldn’t participate in.

Mei Tingchun leaned towards Mei Jiu, “Fourteenth sister, how did you obtain the dagger last time? Can you tell us?”

Mei Jiu had no idea how she had gotten the dagger!

As she hesitated, unable to formulate an answer, Mei Tingyan interjected, “How can you expect an honest answer from someone so pretentious?”

No one responded. Mei Tingchun waited a moment, and seeing Mei Jiu wouldn’t answer, leaned back against the carriage wall.

The carriage traveled for about an hour before stopping.

As they disembarked, they found themselves at the foot of a mountain. Through the vast whiteness of snow, they could see a dark building about a hundred zhang away.

The structure looked unremarkable but sprawled over a large area, an odd sight in such a desolate place.

The group walked through the snow, with only Mei Rujian being carried by a black-clad figure.

Standing before the main gate, they caught their breath as they read the two characters on the plaque.

It was a mortuary!

“This is a secret mortuary built by the imperial court, exclusively for the Crane Control Army families,” the lead black-clad figure explained, gently knocking on the door.

The door opened silently. The black-clad figures entered first, followed by the others.

Seeing everyone had gone in and faced with darkness and emptiness behind her, Mei Jiu hurriedly ran into the courtyard.

The mortuary’s unique architecture, with its tightly enclosed buildings and walls, allowed almost no light to penetrate. On such a night, one could barely see their hand in front of their face.

“An Jiu, An Jiu,” Mei Jiu called, her body trembling uncontrollably, her chattering teeth breaking the silence.

Frightened, Mei Tingyan clutched Mei Tingchun’s clothes.

They seemed to pass through the first room. Tiny lights flickered on the walls on both sides, casting eerie shadows and creating an even more unsettling atmosphere than the darkness.

“We’re here,” the lead black-clad figure stopped and opened a door. “Please enter.”

They then stepped aside.

Mei Tingjun, at the front, saw light inside and felt slightly reassured. He stepped in.

“Ah,” came his low cry from within.

Mei Tingzhu hesitated momentarily before entering as well.

Mei Jiu’s legs shook so much she could barely stand. She began to cry in distress.

An Jiu had no choice but to silently infuse her consciousness to control the body and enter the room.

Sensing that powerful force, Mei Jiu’s panic subsided slightly. However, upon seeing the contents of the room, she fainted!

An Jiu naturally filled the void.

Previously, controlling the body required great effort, but it had become easier over time. Now, she could automatically take over when Mei Jiu lost consciousness. This discovery provided some consolation to An Jiu, making her less concerned about Mei Jiu’s fainting.

The room’s contents didn’t faze An Jiu; they were merely two recently deceased bodies. What caught her attention was the masked man standing in the flickering lamplight.

“We meet again,” a gentle male voice dispelled the gloom.

It was him! The man she had encountered while herding sheep. According to Mei Yanran’s guess, wasn’t he a member of the Crane Control Army?

The masked man stood with his hands behind his back. “I am the Deputy Commander of the Crane Control Army’s Divine Strategy. I will be instructing you for the next half year. You may address me as ‘Deputy Commander’ or ‘Sir’.”

No one knew the exact rank of “Deputy Commander of Divine Strategy” within the Crane Control Army, but it sounded significant.

The masked man unrolled a scroll and hung it on the wall.

An Jiu looked up to see a human anatomy chart! It differed slightly from modern diagrams, focusing mainly on meridians, with organs depicted primarily to clarify acupoint locations.

“I won’t be teaching you martial arts,” the masked man said, his voice like a gentle breeze. “I’ll teach you how to take lives more efficiently.”

Ignoring their expressions, he continued, “In life-or-death battles, speed means survival, slowness means death. The Crane Control Army’s blood-written creed is: Strive to defeat your opponent in one move. Therefore, intimate knowledge of human vulnerabilities must be ingrained in every shadow’s bones.”

The Deputy Commander explained, “Ears, back of the head, neck, ribs, waist, and groin. Attacking these areas with sufficient force, whether by palm, fist, or blade, can be fatal. Of course, these areas are easily defended. Against a skilled opponent, you won’t find such opportunities. Thus, we need a deeper understanding of the human body.”

“There are 702 acupoints in the human body, 108 of which are vital. Among these 108, 72 are non-lethal, but the remaining 36, when struck with just 30% of your inner force, can be fatal.”

He said casually, “With so many vulnerabilities, killing is quite easy, isn’t it?”

Humans are contradictory; life is both tenacious and fragile.

“I assume you’ve learned some of this at home, so I won’t elaborate further,” he said, walking to the stone table with the two corpses.

No one saw where he produced the unsheathed short sword from. “Today, we’ll start with the six major vulnerabilities.”

He placed the sword in An Jiu’s hand. “You go first. Choose one vital point and strike.”

An Jiu frowned. This man was deliberately challenging her, but she didn’t care to argue. Taking the sword, she plunged it into the corpse’s throat without hesitation or even blinking.

An Jiu’s action turned the others pale. Despite their martial arts training from childhood, they had never used a blade on a person. Mei Rujian felt especially fortunate; during his recovery, he had often regretted yielding to An Jiu’s threats, but now he was glad he had. She truly dared to act!

“Decisive and fierce strike. Excellent,” he commented while slowly withdrawing the sword and handing it to Mei Tingzhu. “Your turn.”

Mei Tingzhu’s fingers trembled slightly, but unwilling to show weakness, he took the sword and gritted his teeth as he stabbed the corpse’s left ribs.

“It should be an inch more to the right. The deviation is quite large, but the strike was swift. Good,” the Deputy Commander evaluated.

As the sword was passed to Mei Tingjun, the room filled with the scent of blood. Seeing blood oozing from the corpse, Mei Tingyan covered her mouth and ran towards the exit.

“Follow her. If she leaves the courtyard, kill her,” the Deputy Commander said calmly as if discussing a pleasant evening breeze.