Jin Ruo had by now mapped out the layout of the Su Family’s private residence: five courtyards, one main hall, three side halls, fourteen side rooms, plus a rear courtyard, a garden, two woodsheds, one large and one small kitchen, two stables, and one storehouse — comparable to a mid-sized post station.

Yet there was not a single person in this private residence.

Generally speaking, a great family’s private residence would be staffed by a certain proportion of servants responsible for cleaning and basic maintenance. But Jin Ruo had completed two full circuits without seeing a single servant; even the estate guards only patrolled the outer perimeter and never set foot inside the inner wall.

Lanterns hung from every veranda and eave; when the wind blew, the firelight swayed, tapping and clinking. Beyond that, there was not a trace of any living creature.

Every hair on Jin Ruo’s back stood up; he felt something was wrong. This place was strange — not suitable for lingering. He crept along the wall to the rear gate. The rear wall had a dog hole; he had crawled in through this very hole. The hole was overgrown with waist-high weeds, the location well concealed.

He had just poked his head into the dog hole when he heard a faint rustling of footsteps behind him. Jin Ruo quickly turned and lay flat, concealed beneath the weeds to observe.

A person walked in — a plain white long robe, a long and graceful neck; the manner of walking while carrying a lantern was like a proud and haughty white crane. It was Su Yiyun.

Jin Ruo was overjoyed. For Su Yiyun to come alone in the dead of night, acting furtively — there must be something suspicious going on. This whole evening hadn’t been wasted after all.

Su Yiyun walked as though no one were there to the storehouse door, produced a bunch of bronze keys, selected three, and opened three doors in sequence. The first was an ordinary wooden door, merely for show; the second wooden door was extremely thick and heavy — Su Yiyun had to exert all her strength to push it open; the third was a black iron door with a mechanism: after inserting the key, the iron panels slid open to either side.

The storehouse was pitch dark inside. Su Yiyun walked in carrying her lantern, and for a long while there was no movement.

Jin Ruo pressed himself to the ground and listened; the surroundings were quiet, with nothing resembling an ambush. He thought it over — opportunity knocks but once — crouched down, and crept into the storehouse.

The moment he entered he understood: the storehouse was piled mountain-high with large freight bundles; a thick, rich fragrance of tea leaves permeated every corner. Jin Ruo drew the small knife from his boot and plunged it into one of the bundles, withdrew a handful of tea leaves, cupped them in his palm, and smelled them. He smiled.

It was counterfeit Hundred Blossoms Tea.

Gan Hongying’s guess had been correct — the supplier of the counterfeit Hundred Blossoms Tea was the Su Family of Suizhou. This was the counterfeit tea’s base of operations. He had really struck gold this time.

At that moment, Jin Ruo heard voices; he hastily pressed himself low and crept toward the source of the sound along the ground, threading past two stacks of cargo bundles, and again caught sight of Su Yiyun.

Su Yiyun was speaking with a veiled person. The lantern light penetrated the veil and cast the person’s silhouette — alarmingly thin. This person’s voice was very faint; nothing could be heard.

Jin Ruo recognized this person — it was the Seventh Lord that Lin Sui’an had mentioned. His curiosity grew; he drew in yet a little closer, when without warning a fierce wind struck from behind with no forewarning. Jin Ruo’s reflexes kicked in; he rolled aside on the ground, and black blade light grazed past his scalp, severing several strands of hair that fell to the ground.

Standing behind him was a masked figure, clutching a black broadsword, two pitch-black, lightless eyes staring at him through the hollow of the mask.

He had let his guard down — there was an ambush after all!

Jin Ruo’s gaze flashed; he drew his sword from its sheath, and his whole body spun like a top pressed to the ground, whirling outward. The blade wind slashed through the cargo bundles; tea leaves flew in all swirling clouds, forming just enough cover. Jin Ruo used knees and feet alternately to touch the ground, advancing in a zigzag pattern to the masked figure’s rear, and swept in with a low, skimming cut.

This move combined the speed of “Whirlwind Shaking Autumn Leaves” with the unpredictability of “Cowardly Ground-Hugging Combat.” Jin Ruo thought it all but certain — yet unexpectedly, the masked figure suddenly stepped through a sequence of Eight Trigrams footwork, evading every blow, and struck back with a reverse cut. The speed was on par with Jin Ruo’s, and the moves bore eight-tenths resemblance to the “Forge-Cleaving Cauldron Mourning” style.

Jin Ruo was profoundly shocked — he pushed off the ground with both palms and shot backward more than a zhang’s distance, tumbling twice and sprinting out of the storehouse. The masked figure pursued relentlessly, the broadsword spinning with fierce, ferocious power. Jin Ruo was forced into combat, and from the very first exchange he sensed trouble: the masked figure’s speed was terrifyingly fast, and more frighteningly, it seemed to anticipate every one of Jin Ruo’s offensive moves and deflect them perfectly. Most unnerving of all were this person’s endlessly transforming footwork patterns — the more he looked, the more familiar they seemed.

A bell chimed in Jin Ruo’s mind: these footsteps were the secret footwork passed down within the Eastern Capital’s Purification Sect — besides the seven star disciples of the Eastern Capital branch hall, only one other person knew them. The identity of the figure before him was all but on the tip of his tongue—

“Shen Xun! You traitor!” Jin Ruo bellowed. The masked figure’s body hitched — seemingly startled.

Now is the moment!

Jin Ruo spun his body and unleashed “Throat-Cutting Blood Ten Zhang.” The masked figure snapped back to awareness and turned its head just barely aside; the blade of Jin Ruo’s sword grazed across the tree-bark mask with a dry crack and sliced it open, revealing the face beneath — and indeed it was Shen Xun, the former Great Elder of the Eastern Capital Purification Sect’s branch hall.

Shen Xun had grown so thin as to be nearly unrecognizable: his eye sockets deeply sunken, wax-yellow skin stretched tight over his skull, as if not a shred of muscle existed between the skin and bone. Standing in the moonlight, he looked like a dried corpse that had crawled up from the earth.

Jin Ruo shuddered and called out again, “Shen Xun?”

Shen Xun’s sunken eyes shifted, then he suddenly raised the broadsword high — a signal — and from inside the storehouse, from atop the roof, dozens of masked figures crawled out, all four-limbed on the ground, bodies arched in an uncanny arc, like a heap of human-shaped lizards.

Sweet heavens!

Jin Ruo drew a sharp breath, dropped to the ground, and rolled and scrambled toward the rear wall, legs practically trailing smoke as he shot through the dog hole in a flash. Before he could blink, a powerful wind howled and slammed into his back; Jin Ruo flew through the air, landed, and spat out a mouthful of blood. Looking back, he saw Shen Xun leading a swarm of lizard-masked figures in pursuit.

Jin Ruo made an instant decision, pulled the signal flare from inside his robe, and fired it — the brilliant flare carved through the night sky and exploded with a thunderous crack, illuminating nearly the entire span of Peach Spring Village.

This was the Purification Sect’s most urgent distress signal; only the sect master — besides the sect master, only the grand hall masters of the five great city branches were of sufficient rank to be equipped with it — and was not to be used except when one’s life was in danger.

At the moment the flare soared into the sky, Shen Xun’s movements hitched again. He raised his head; the glorious fireworks lit up a glimmer of light in his empty, hollow eye sockets. The lizard-masked figures mimicked him, all raising their heads in unison, fixed stares on where the light had come from.

The flare died out; all returned to darkness.

When Shen Xun turned his head, Jin Ruo had already vanished.

Hua Yitang jolted his head up abruptly from the pile of account books. “What was that sound?!”

Ling Zhiyan pushed open the window shutter and looked out; his expression shifted slightly. “It looks like the Purification Sect’s signal flare — the direction from here — very close!”

Hua Yitang flung the account books to Zhou Gan and strode rapidly out the door. Wu Da outside, keeping watch, reported at lightning speed. “The flare rose from the south.”

“Sixth Son Ling, take me to the roof to look!” Hua Yitang called out.

Wu Da nearly choked: They were currently thieves who had snuck into the Wang Family’s private residence to steal account books — could they not keep a lower profile?!

Ling Zhiyan pulled Hua Yitang and vaulted onto the roof. The two fixed their gaze: the Su Family residence at the central position of Peach Spring Village was blazing with lights, human shadows swarming — precisely the direction from which the signal had come. And to the north, in the Ma Family’s private residence, the faint sounds of killing had begun to carry.

“Trouble — Lin Niangzi and Young Gate Master Jin may be in danger!” Ling Zhiyan exclaimed softly. “Fourth Son!”

Hua Yitang’s eyes burst with red veins. “Call for reinforcements!”

Lin Sui’an also saw Jin Ruo’s distress signal and thought: this is bad.

No more dawdling here — it must be finished quickly!

“Ita, Azure Dragon, Vermilion Bird, White Tiger, Dark Warrior — guard the Third Lady and Snow Niang! Not half a step away!”

Ita: “Pig-person! No!”

Third Lady of the Hua Family was greatly alarmed. “Never mind us — go help Lin Niangzi!”

“This is an order!” Lin Sui’an shouted sternly. Her piercing gaze touched Hua Yimeng’s features — five-parts resembling Hua Yitang — and could not help but soften; she smiled. “Third Lady, rest easy — I will see you all safely home.”

Hua Yimeng suddenly found she couldn’t get a single word out. Lin Sui’an’s smiling face in the midst of terrifying killing intent was like a beam of light — startlingly brilliant. Her heart began to pound and flutter; she watched as Lin Sui’an’s feet caught the wind and she blazed forward.

The masked figures descended from the wall like clusters of ghosts, wave upon wave of unbroken black blade light forming an all-engulfing black mist around Lin Sui’an’s figure — yet in no more than an instant, dark green lightning tore the mist apart and slashed straight toward the courtyard gate.

Moonlight reflected on blade light; blade light reflected on the blood on Lin Sui’an’s face — like a god of slaughter descended to earth, shaking the soul.

Another wave of masked figures surged toward Hua Yimeng; Ita cried out in a language no one could understand — yet the Four Dragons somehow understood, their feet moving like the wind, attack and defense alternating in a peculiar formation, enveloping Hua Yimeng and Snow Qiu Niang in an impenetrable fortress, methodically advancing toward the exit.

Hua Yimeng’s line of sight was blocked. Losing sight of Lin Sui’an, she realized only then that from a moment ago she had been forgetting to breathe; she quickly drew two breaths, the pounding of her heartbeat making her feel dazed. She could not help but press her hand over her chest.

No wonder Fourth Brother was enchanted out of his senses. Such a magnificent, dashing, and heroic young lady — even she was moved…

Lin Sui’an in the midst of battle shuddered for no apparent reason, turned her hand over and swept her blade aside, knocking a masked figure flying. An ill omen grew stronger and stronger in her heart: on the one hand, because she was worried about Jin Ruo; on the other hand, because of the masked figures before her.

She had cut down at least twenty masked figures; she quickly found their weakness. Their speed was considerable, their moves bore a strong resemblance to the Ten Purity compendium — but their adaptive capacity was terrible. A slight variation in her moves and she could cut them down with a single stroke. Cutting her way forward, Lin Sui’an even had an illusion that she was chopping through a pile of tree stumps that could move at speed. And since these masks were all made of tree bark, this feeling grew all the more vivid.

Repetitive moves, repetitive masks, repetitive rhythm of slaughter. Ceaseless repetition, repetition, repetition — Lin Sui’an could no longer count how many she had felled. A feeling welled up inside her that was difficult to describe as anything but restless; Qian Jing too seemed to have had its killing intent worn down by this repetitive slaughter and gradually dimmed.

Lin Sui’an thought: this is bad! These masked figures are a trap to exhaust her through fatiguing combat — their purpose is to drain her battle will and concentration.

Continuing this kind of endless attrition would certainly spell disaster!

The courtyard gate was right before her. Looking at the material, it was merely an ordinary wooden gate. Lin Sui’an bit through the tip of her tongue; the pain instantly sharpened her awareness. She swung her full arm and launched the great move “Forge-Cleaving Cauldron Mourning,” sending six masked figures flying — the courtyard gate shattered in response. More masked figures poured in from outside, surging and jostling face upon face of masks, like disturbing a nest of cockroaches.

Lin Sui’an sprang upward, treading off the skulls of several masked figures to vault to the top of the wall, intending to survey the situation and find another path of breakthrough. But outside the wall she saw a dense mass of masked figures with heads upturned gazing at her, and felt every hair on her body rise.

As expected — this path was impassable!

There was simply no way to get Third Lady and the others out first!

Better simply to see this through in one stroke — take the leader to take the enemy!

Just as she was thinking this, Lin Sui’an heard a sound behind her. Looking back, she found those masked figures who had just climbed down from the wall were now climbing back up to chase her — strange: they should clearly know that Third Lady and the others were trapped inside the courtyard and that she could not possibly leave alone. Yet they were so doggedly relentless — as though… as though she had some kind of target tracker on her body…

Could it be—!

Lin Sui’an’s heart stirred; she simply took off running along the top of the wall. The wall was narrow, barely wide enough for one person; the masked figures scrambled over one another to climb up in pursuit, even jostling their own comrades off the edge, causing a trampling disaster, until finally they were forced into a single-file chase. Lin Sui’an ran a few steps, turned around, slashed down several — ran on; the injured masked figures fell away; new masked figures clambered over their comrades’ bodies to continue the pursuit—

Lin Sui’an almost laughed aloud. She had guessed right: these masked figures, though an upgraded version of the Doom-Breaker experiments, still had no brains. They had presumably been given a forced command to pursue and kill Qian Jing’s master Lin Sui’an — they only knew to chase and kill, without knowing how to adapt.

Lin Sui’an ran and slashed; the masked figures fell and climbed and chased. The previously tense and fierce battle had somehow become oddly funny.

With Lin Sui’an serving as a living decoy and drawing the horde away, the situation on Hua Yimeng’s side became considerably easier. Ita and the Four Dragons seized the opportunity to shield the two ladies and press to the base of the wall; the masked figures attacking them gradually slowed, as if they had lost their directive signal — finally they stopped altogether, merely encircling them, no longer attacking. The Four Dragons let out a breath of relief; Ita even managed to spare the breath to shout “Long live Pig-person!” on Lin Sui’an’s behalf.

As she watched Lin Sui’an’s cutting speed grow faster and faster, the masked figures standing between her and Su Feizhang fewer and fewer — Ma Kaicheng could no longer sit still. He quickly retreated behind Su Feizhang and said in a low voice, “The Hundred Blossoms Tea market is vast and its prospects limitless — the Hua Family alone cannot possibly swallow it. We could work with the Hua Family, jointly managing Hundred Blossoms Tea — why do we have to come to blows, bent on extermination?”

Su Feizhang’s complexion was white as death; his hands gripped tight, knuckles turning bluish. Words crept from between his clenched teeth, carrying a bone-chilling cold. “Things have come to this pass — today it is either her death or my end!”

Ma Kaicheng was taken aback. “Has it really come to that?!”

Su Feizhang stared fixedly at Lin Sui’an, watching that lean and slight young woman drawing closer and closer, the blade light in her hands growing brighter and brighter, the masked figures fallen on the ground growing more and more numerous. A dread rising from his most primal instincts surged in his heart.

So this is the so-called “Doom-Breaker”?!

The last layer of masked figures was breached. Qian Jing carrying wind and death surged toward him; Ma Kaicheng screamed and stumbled to the ground. He watched the dark green blade light cleave to within half a cun of Su Feizhang’s forehead — and stop.

Lin Sui’an’s entire body radiated a thick smell of blood; her pupils contracted to pinpricks. Su Feizhang curved his lips; he raised one finger and wagged it. From the back hall, more than a dozen estate guards emerged, each pressing a blade to a hostage — those teahouse proprietors, every one weeping and trembling, legs gone soft.

Su Feizhang: “Put down the sword. Otherwise, I will kill them all.”

Lin Sui’an’s jaw was clenched tight; the sweet metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. The hand gripping the blade held perfectly still.

Ma Kaicheng, speechless with shock: He wants to threaten the master of Qian Jing with hostages — has Su Feizhang lost his mind?

The hostages were even more despairing. They had heard the name of Lin Sui’an of the Purification Sect — a ruthless person who would kill gods if they crossed her path and kill buddhas if they crossed hers. They and Lin Sui’an were total strangers; how could Lin Sui’an possibly be manipulated for the sake of strangers? They were doomed!

Never mind them — even Lin Sui’an herself didn’t believe it. Right now she need only lightly move her fingers, cut down Su Feizhang, and she could break this life-and-death bind. Moreover, behind her were still Hua Yimeng, Ita, the Four Dragons, and Snow Qiu Niang — as for these teahouse proprietors before her, what did they have to do with her—

“Shhk—”

A jet of blood spurted into the air; several crimson drops fell upon Qian Jing’s blade, slid down, and dripped onto the ground. One hostage’s head rolled away.

Qian Jing blazed suddenly in intense green light; Lin Sui’an wrenched her sword back with a lurch and staggered backward several great steps, staring at Su Feizhang in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?!”

Su Feizhang’s gaze was fixed on Lin Sui’an’s face — Lin Sui’an’s lips had gone pallid, her pupils crimson red; clearly she had suffered extreme shock. Joy rose in his heart. So it appeared the rumors were true: the all-conquering master of Qian Jing could not kill people!

A blade that could not kill — however sharp, it was a useless piece of trash!

Su Feizhang raised a second finger; a guard seized a second hostage, and the blade edge broke the skin; bright crimson blood trickled down.

“Lin Sui’an — put down the sword.”

Behind her, Hua Yimeng and Ita were calling out something; Lin Sui’an couldn’t quite hear anymore. Qian Jing let out a low, humming murmur in the palm of her hand; the blood smeared on the blade stung her pupils with searing pain. In a trance, that vivid red transformed into a bloody, murderous intent, coiling and burrowing into her palm, flowing along the tendons to reach her heart. Her heartbeat grew faster and faster — as if frantically urging something forward.

Lin Sui’an felt a bone-deep chill. Then suddenly, her fingers twitched; Qian Jing slipped from her grip and fell to the ground.

Su Feizhang broke into loud laughter, pointing forward. “Cripple Lin Sui’an — I want her alive.”

Four estate guards advanced with hesitation; four blades simultaneously plunged into Lin Sui’an’s shoulders and thighs, and at once blood poured like a flood. Lin Sui’an’s body bent in pain. Hua Yimeng shrieked; Ita and the Four Dragons roared and charged forward — the motionless masked figures suddenly began to attack; Ita could not dodge in time and was cut, and Azure Dragon dragged Ita back. The masked figures went still again, all raising their blades high — clearly, if any of them dared take another step, they would be cut down without mercy.

“Don’t come forward!” Lin Sui’an cried loudly, abruptly raised her head. Her sharp gaze was more terrifying than Qian Jing’s blade light; the four estate guards were so startled they retreated simultaneously — the blades plunged into Lin Sui’an’s body were dragged out; blood dripped in a steady patter onto the ground.

Snow Qiu Niang’s legs buckled and she sank to her knees. Hua Yimeng wept as tears ran down her face; Ita and the Four Dragons’ eyes were red with fury — yet they could not move so much as a muscle.

The guards’ blade-gripping hands trembled slightly. The teahouse proprietors knelt on the ground; looking at Lin Sui’an bathed in blood, they could not help but weep as well.

Yet Lin Sui’an smiled. Those four blades had struck beautifully — the violent pain had driven back the bloodthirsty killing intent and called her reason home; right now her mind was clearer than it had ever been.

The blood loss was a bit much; her vision was a little blurred — but it was no great matter. The muscle memory of this body had, unconsciously, helped her avoid the vital points.

Lin Sui’an slowly straightened her spine.

She could not collapse. This was a matter of her dignity as the master of Qian Jing!

Su Feizhang’s smile slowly ebbed. “You resemble and do not resemble the Doom-Breaker of the legends.”

Lin Sui’an blinked. “Are you the Third Lord?”

Su Feizhang’s expression was as if he had swallowed a fly.

Lin Sui’an laughed coldly. “So it turns out the great and mighty head of the Su Family of Suizhou is merely one of the Third Lord’s dogs.”

Su Feizhang’s face turned ashen. “Hack off her hands and feet!”

The guards advanced with hesitation; yet faced with Lin Sui’an’s terrifying killing aura, every bone in their bodies was quaking in fear, and not one could bring themselves to make a move.

Lin Sui’an licked the blood from the corner of her lips and laughed aloud.

Su Feizhang flew into a towering rage; he snatched a blade and charged at Lin Sui’an without a care — yet at that very moment, Ma Kaicheng behind him suddenly let out a wretched shriek. Su Feizhang’s peripheral vision caught it: six ghostly residual shadows bloomed like a lotus among the crowd, guards and hostages crashing to the ground at the same time. In almost the same instant, Su Feizhang heard a crack — his wrist bone snapped — the blade was wrenched from his hand and held across his own throat.

Lin Sui’an’s laughter sounded in his ear, like a death knell from the underworld. “Has no one ever told you — getting close to me is very dangerous?”

Beads of sweat as large as beans slid from his forehead. Su Feizhang’s whole body shook so badly he could barely stand, emitting meaningless whimpers — half from the pain of his shattered wrist, half from the horrifying sight before his eyes.

All the guards had fallen. Only Ma Kaicheng still stood; a sly smile hung on his face, his slight frame stretching upward as if after rain — joints unfurling, growing taller and taller. Only now did Su Feizhang notice that behind this “Ma Kaicheng,” another Ma Kaicheng lay unconscious on the ground.

“Ma Kaicheng” hooked a fingertip at his forehead and peeled away a flap, letting out a sigh. “I was only a moment late — how did you end up in such a wretched state?”

Lin Sui’an also sighed. “Could you not have set off a little earlier?”

“Ma Kaicheng” wiped his face; a silver mask appeared upon it. “The last mask was sliced up by you, and making a new mask took quite some time. Getting here on time should already count as your great fortune. Oh — this new mask cost me a full ten guan. You need to pay me back.”

Lin Sui’an replied helplessly. “Surely the number-one thief in the world, Yun Zhong Yue, wouldn’t be quite so stingy?”

“If you won’t repay in coin, how about you owe me a personal favor?” Yun Zhong Yue strolled over and poked the hand holding the blade.

Lin Sui’an froze for a moment; Yun Zhong Yue had already taken hold of the blade hilt in her stead and pressed it to Su Feizhang’s throat. “Su Family Head — release the people.”

Su Feizhang shut his eyes tight and forced out two words through clenched teeth. “Release them!”

The masked figures turned in unison; their eyeballs shifted in unison, as if something within their bodies had been awakened — and simultaneously slashed toward Lin Sui’an.

Yun Zhong Yue: “Oi, oi, oi?”

Lin Sui’an’s heart plummeted; she hooked up Qian Jing with her toes, gripped it in hand, and like an arrow loosed from the string she launched forward to meet them. “Ita — take everyone and go—”

Yet Ita and the Four Dragons showed expressions of terror and dread; Hua Yimeng cried out with red eyes, “Lin Niangzi — watch out!”

Before the words were finished, Lin Sui’an felt only a gust of wind enveloping her — several whistling sounds stabbed through the air and landed on the ground; Yun Zhong Yue’s mask appeared at her side with a ding — a chunk chipped away, exposing half an eyebrow. Only now did Lin Sui’an realize it was Yun Zhong Yue who had just saved her.

Yun Zhong Yue quickly withdrew the arm that had encircled Lin Sui’an’s waist. He asked in a low voice, “Are you all right?”

Lin Sui’an shook her head; her mind was somewhat foggy. Just now she hadn’t detected an ambush at all — could it be that the blood loss was too great, slowing her reactions?

“Not very well.” Not very well — that was putting it mildly; it was utterly dreadful.

The wall tops were once again covered in masked figures — fewer in number, but in far more uncanny poses: all four-limbed on the ground, backs arched, heads tilted upward like a band of human-shaped lizards. Lin Sui’an could not help thinking of the old Qiu manor master of Cheng County — Doom-Breaker 2.0 version.

Yun Zhong Yue sighed again. “If it were only you, I could certainly get you out of here.”

Lin Sui’an: “If you were the kind to fear death and cling to life, you wouldn’t have come to save me.”

Yun Zhong Yue tilted his head. “You trust me that much?”

Lin Sui’an’s ear twitched; she drew a deep breath and smiled. “I trust the person behind me!”

Before the sound of her voice fell, countless arrows carrying fierce whistles pierced the air, shooting into the foreheads of the human-lizard masked figures. The masked figures screamed and plummeted, blood and brain matter flowing across the ground.

“I am the eccentric madman of Yangdu, Hua the Fourth Son — I have seen the three mountains and five sacred peaks, traveled the five lakes and four seas, seen through the six paths of reincarnation and the eight wastelands. I come like the wind and leave like lightning. I am most petty and most vindictive. Harm me — and I will cut you to pieces. Harm my family — and I will grind your bones to dust and scatter them to the winds!”

Everyone looked toward the sound: atop the ridge of the main hall had bloomed an enormous peony, petals an absolute white, night wind an absolute black. Countless bows and crossbows rose from beneath his feet, setting off a brilliant and dashing face — its killing aura overflowing in all directions.

Hua Yitang had arrived.

Side Story

Yun Zhong Yue: Damn it — just when I managed to look cool for once, that flashy wastrel has stolen all the limelight again.

Lin Sui’an: His opening monologue really was way too long…