Shi Ting said quietly, “Sit still and don’t move.”

Yan Qing obediently kept still, her fists clenching involuntarily at her sides.

When Shi Ting had bent down just now, he had caught a glimpse through the gap beneath the seats of a pair of feet wearing military boots. These were special-issue boots — in the past, only elite units had the right to wear them. Anyone who put on such a pair of boots was no ordinary person.

When he straightened up, he had taken an offhand glance at the other person, and seen a man with a hat pulled low, covering half his face.

The man’s hand had been resting at his waist the whole time, where something protruded in a bulge. Judging by its shape, it looked very much like a gun. This type of gun had a very long barrel, which made it easy for the outline to show even when holstered at the waist, but its advantage was powerful stopping force and destructive capability.

This was a professional assassin.

Shi Ting scanned the passengers on the boat — one by one, they all looked like ordinary folk, plain and simple commoners. He was confident his judgment on that front was sound.

If there was anyone on this boat worth deploying a professional assassin for, it could only be him.

Though he had come out on this mission secretly under the Marshal’s orders, his two elder brothers could not possibly have failed to investigate him. Even if they couldn’t find out exactly where he had gone, the fact that he had passed through Qianguan City was impossible to conceal. As long as someone was posted to watch the various roads and waterways leading to Qianguan City, lying in wait for him would not be difficult.

Or perhaps someone had tipped them off — after all, his itinerary was not known to the Marshal alone.

Shi Ting’s hand rested lightly on Yan Qing’s knee, and Yan Qing sat bolt upright, her fists clenched tight.

She knew Shi Ting would not sit idle and wait for death. Before the other party could act, he would surely strike first.

Just as Yan Qing was wondering what Shi Ting would do, he had already bent down, as if picking something up off the ground. He looked up and smiled toward the back. “How did your ball fall again?”

The little boy glanced at the rubber ball cradled in his hands, looking a little confused. His ball hadn’t fallen.

Shi Ting picked up the nonexistent ball from the ground and stood up, heading toward the little boy.

When he passed by the man in black, it was in the space of a lightning flash — his hand had already shot toward the man’s throat.

In truth, the man had been watching Shi Ting’s movements all along. But he had not dared to make a rash move, because his superiors had hammered home the warning — this Seventh Young Master, whether in observational ability or martial skill, was of the highest order. To deal with him, the right moment had to be found before a killing blow could be delivered.

But he had never expected Shi Ting to strike first. He couldn’t fathom where he had given himself away.

That said, this man’s reactions were sharp. In the instant Shi Ting’s hand was just about to seize him by the throat, the man fell sharply backward, barely managing to dodge, while one hand reached into his jacket and drew out a handgun.

Seeing someone draw a weapon, the passengers on the boat erupted into screaming and scattered in panic. But this was a narrow boat, not open land — there was nowhere to run.

As the crowd spread out in all directions, the boat began to rock violently. Yan Qing quickly grabbed the side of the hull to steady herself.

By the time she had managed to stabilize herself, Shi Ting and the man had already taken the fight to the deck.

“He has a gun — all of you, get down!” Seeing that the entire boatful of people had been too terrified to move, Yan Qing immediately shouted.

It was that shout that brought some calm back to the panicking crowd. People scrambled to crouch behind their seats.

Shi Ting gripped the man’s wrist, rendering the gun useless for the moment. Shi Ting pressed forward two steps, and the man’s back was pinned against the railing.

Shi Ting forced the man’s hand against the railing and slammed it down hard. The gun fell to the deck. Shi Ting hooked his foot under it and flicked it outward — it arced out from the hull and dropped into the churning river.

Seeing his gun stripped from him, the man’s eyes flashed with fury. His knee shot up sharply, catching Shi Ting squarely in the chest. Shi Ting felt a sharp pain in his chest and was forced to retreat a step. The man seized the opening, attacking in a relentless barrage of fists and kicks — every strike ferocious and aimed to kill.

Yan Qing, like everyone else, had taken cover behind a seat. This way she would not be a burden to Shi Ting. But her gaze never left the two men fighting through the gap in the chairs.

That man’s strikes were vicious and his movements swift — clearly a master of masters. Whoever had sent this person was intent on taking Shi Ting’s life, and naturally they would not have sent a mediocre fighter.

Though Shi Ting’s skills were also excellent, he was not a professional — having held his own against this man for so long was already no small feat.

Watching Shi Ting being driven back step by step, a sharp blade suddenly appeared in the man’s hand. He brought it slashing down — fast and precise. A cut opened on Shi Ting’s arm, slicing through both fabric and flesh.

The two fought from the deck all the way to the railing. The man gradually gained the upper hand, backing Shi Ting against the railing. The knife in his hand plunged viciously at Shi Ting’s face.

Shi Ting raised one hand and caught the man’s wrist, but he could not stop the knife from inching closer and closer.

In his eyes was reflected the knife’s cold gleam. The sharp tip drew ever nearer, about to plunge into his eye socket.

Watching through the gap between the seats, Yan Qing saw Shi Ting in mortal peril and broke out in a cold sweat. She hated in that moment that she had not a shred of martial skill — utterly helpless to intervene.

Just as Yan Qing was about to throw caution to the wind and rush forward, her fingertips suddenly touched something hard.

A gleam of joy flashed through her eyes. It was the small handgun Ling’ai had given her. She had carried it on her person at all times for self-defense, but with Shi Ting around, she had never imagined needing to use it.

There was no time to lose. Yan Qing quickly drew out the small handgun. Ling’ai had taught her thoroughly how to use it — the only question now was her aim.

Seeing the man’s blade already nearly piercing Shi Ting’s eye, Yan Qing made an instant decision and racked the slide to chamber a round.

She extended the barrel of the gun through the gap between the seats, focused all her concentration on the man, and without hesitation squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot was soft, but sharp enough.

The bullet struck the man in the shoulder. The round was small but packed tremendous force — blood poured from the man’s shoulder in a torrent.

Shi Ting seized the opportunity, drove a kick into the man’s abdomen, and simultaneously kicked the knife out of his hand.

With his knife gone, the man’s eyes burned red. But he did not immediately lunge forward again. Instead, he swept a swift glance around.

Just as Shi Ting was about to press the advantage, the man leapt into the pilothouse. Before the helmsman could make a sound, the man felled him with a single palm strike.

By the time Shi Ting rushed over, the pilothouse door had already been locked from the inside. He saw the man at the helm wheel, jerking it sharply to the left.

With the boat suddenly veering, the cabin broke into chaos. In the violent lurching, Yan Qing was thrown to one side, and the gun skidded out of her hand.

Her heart lurched. She reached for the gun, the boat lurched again, and she slid backward — her shoulder slamming hard into a seat.

Screams erupted across the boat, and passengers tumbled to the floor one after another.

Shi Ting braced himself against the railing and barely managed to stay on his feet. He looked to the side — the boat had already changed direction. It would not be long before it plowed headlong into the mountainside. And to stop him from getting close, the man was deliberately making the boat sway left and right.

This desperate, death-seeking assassin — he was going to drag an entire boatful of people down with him.

Shi Ting glanced into the cabin and saw Yan Qing climbing up from the floor, only to lose her footing again.

His heart clenched. He gritted his teeth and, gripping the railing, forced himself toward the pilothouse.

When he reached the pilothouse, Shi Ting raised his foot and drove it hard against the door, again and again. After several successive kicks, the pilothouse door was finally forced open.

Shi Ting had no time to deal with the man — he needed to turn the helm back before this boat slammed into the mountain. But the man would not allow him to do so, and suddenly launched a full-force tackle.

Shi Ting was straining to swing the wheel, and with the man’s powerful slam, his back burst through the railing at the hull. The two men fell together from above into the swift, churning river.

Though Yan Qing was struggling to keep her footing, she had kept her anxious eyes on things over there. Seeing Shi Ting and the man fall in together, she let out a gut-wrenching cry. “Shi Ting!”

Yan Qing steadied herself against the seats and ran forward. By the time she reached the spot where Shi Ting had fallen, all she could see were two figures on the river’s surface, swept forward relentlessly by the current until they disappeared from sight.

“Shi Ting.” Yan Qing leaned over the railing. Overwhelming terror made her entire body tremble, and even her voice had changed. She stared blankly at the river surface where Shi Ting had vanished, tears flowing uncontrollably down her face.

At that moment, the boat began rocking again — it must have grazed a submerged rock. Though Shi Ting had corrected the helm at the last critical moment, if left to drift on its own, even without striking the mountain, hitting a submerged rock was equally fatal.

Yan Qing seemed to be shaken back to her senses. She glanced toward the pilothouse and called out loudly, “Is there anyone who can steer a boat? This vessel is going to hit the mountain!”

From among the passengers, a man with dark, weathered skin immediately stood up. “I can.”

The man strode over and climbed into the pilothouse. Though he was a little rusty at the helm, it was not beyond him — in his younger years he had been a helmsman, before an arm injury forced him to change trades.

With this man’s efforts, the boat gradually corrected its course and began sailing steadily forward again.

The passengers on board, having lived through that ordeal just now, finally came back to their senses and began gathering their belongings and straightening their clothing.

The boat had already traveled past the spot where Shi Ting had fallen in. Yan Qing still stared blankly in that direction, as though her soul had left her body.

“The current runs this fast, with submerged rocks all the way below — falling in means certain death.” The man at the helm said loudly over the engine noise. “The dead cannot come back. You must accept it and move on.”

“He won’t die. He definitely won’t die.” Yan Qing, as if in a stupor, suddenly ran toward the stern. She gripped the railing and looked down, and indeed saw a small rubber life raft fixed there for emergencies.