Duan Xu peeled away another layer of this thousand-layer paper, and written clearly on the broken layer were the three characters “Bone Shrinking Technique.” This martial art had to be practiced from childhood, day after day bending each inch of one’s bones to the limit—a painful skill. For instance, just now, the Fifteenth Master, though taller than Lin Jun, could disguise himself as Lin Jun, likely using the Bone Shrinking Technique.

Duan Xu walked to the window. He pulled aside the curtain, looking left and right, and said, “The Truth-Breaking Sword is in that person’s hands.”

When he had been tied up earlier, his weapons were confiscated, and the Truth-Breaking Sword was now with one of the guards outside. Duan Xu pulled a piece of soft iron wire from his hairpin, wrapped it twice around his palm, and with a glance, smiled at He Simu: “Night is falling soon. The show is about to end.”

This man excelled at doing the unexpected; not a single move resembled what ordinary people would do. Logically, a person with deep schemes should maintain a steady, impassive appearance, yet this Duan Xu was quite expressive while still harboring profound depths.

He Simu watched Duan Xu for a moment, then said leisurely, “Then I, as a front-row spectator, shall wait and see.”

The sunset quickly faded, and the night grew heavy. From the not-too-distant Shuozhou Prefecture city came the sound of firecrackers, with a lively and jubilant atmosphere penetrating through the thick city walls, through the camp gate, and into the camp. The commoners of Shuozhou Prefecture were unaware that their general was now trapped in enemy territory with only an evil ghost for company. They were solely focused on welcoming a new year of favorable weather and freedom from illness and disaster.

The Hu Qi people did not celebrate the New Year. A soldier lifted the doorway curtain to bring food to Duan Xu. Like Fifteen, he wore the braided hair of the Hu Qi people. He glanced at the well-bound Duan Xu and perfunctorily placed the food on the ground.

Duan Xu smiled and said in the Hu Qi language, “Brother, how can I eat if you put it there?”

The soldier hadn’t expected Duan Xu to speak the Hu Qi language. When he looked up in confusion, Duan Xu was no longer on the rack. A soft steel wire wrapped around his neck and suddenly tightened. He collapsed before he could make a sound.

Duan Xu stood behind him, his hand mercilessly tightening the steel wire until the man beneath his hand suffocated to death.

He supported the falling body of the man and quickly changed into the Hu Qi soldier’s outer garments. Duan Xu untied his neatly bound hair, his fingers nimbly working through it, and soon he too appeared as a Hu Qi man with braided hair.

This braiding skill seemed well-practiced.

He Simu stood watching with folded arms.

Duan Xu tied this man to the rack, thoughtfully and swiftly fixing his hair, and putting on the hairpin and ornaments. After tidying everything efficiently, he patted the man’s shoulder and said, “Sorry about that.”

Then, with his appearance completely changed to resemble a Hu Qi person, Duan Xu put on the helmet and walked out of the tent, only to be stopped by two guards at the door.

The night was deep, without stars or moon, and the torchlight could not illuminate faces. The guard asked, “Password.”

It seemed they were somewhat vigilant after all.

Duan Xu sighed lightly and said, “What a pity.”

Almost as the words rang out, the knife he had just taken from the food-bringing soldier was already unsheathed. Like a swift black wind, he sped around the tent. Before anyone could even cry for help, the circle of guards all fell to the ground, blood spurting three feet high, their throats cut open.

Duan Xu completed all this silently, then retrieved his Truth-Breaking Sword from one of the guards. He tossed aside the heavy broadsword in his hand, tied the Truth-Breaking Sword to his waist, and silently mouthed to He Simu with a smile: “They’ll discover this soon. Let’s go.”

His demeanor resembled a naughty child who had accidentally blown up a chicken coop with firecrackers during New Year—committing mischief and running away without a trace of the solemnity one might expect from killing.

He Simu slightly narrowed her eyes, sitting on her lantern pole and floating beside Duan Xu. She watched as he moved soundlessly like a cat between the tents, with countless people silently falling to the ground in his wake. He was accustomed to killing with a single sword stroke and would support his victims before they fell, letting them drop quietly. This was a very skilled assassination technique, and he executed it cleanly and efficiently.

Someone had already discovered that the prisoner had escaped and was killing people everywhere. Clamorous sounds arose, with soldiers shouting, “The man has escaped!” “Where is he?” “This way… no, that way!”

Duan Xu’s route was very strange—east one moment, west the next, back and forth, confusing the Hu Qi people who became disoriented, not knowing where he was striking or how many assailants there were. Some even shouted that hundreds of Great Liang soldiers were attacking the camp. To add to the chaos, Duan Xu shouted in a panicked Hu Qi voice, “The Han people are disguised as us!” This call spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred, and the Hu Qi soldiers carrying swords and torches began to suspect each other of being spies.

Duan Xu was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing infiltrating a flock. One moment he would join their shouting, and when he reached an area with fewer people, he would begin his deadly work again. Weaving in and out, he single-handedly threw the Hu Qi military camp into disarray. Taking advantage of their confusion, he made his way to the armory. He was seen carrying two tung oil barrels, pouring the contents over the siege carts, then capturing a frantic horse in the chaos and tying it to one of the carts.

Duan Xu set fire to the cart. Feeling the heat, the warhorse neighed frantically and galloped out of the tent, crashing everywhere and setting tents ablaze. As fate would have it, tonight a rare east wind was blowing, and the fire spread rapidly with the wind. The already chaotic Danzhi military camp became even more disordered.

Watching this scene, He Simu suddenly remembered that about half a month ago, Duan Xu had asked her when the east wind would blow at night.

Everything that had happened today had been planned by him all along.

After burning the armory, Duan Xu hurried to a nearby tent and rushed in, slipping past the guards at the door like an eel. Lifting the curtain, he shouted, “Reporting to the General, the armory is on fire! The Han people have set fires!”

He Simu looked over to see none other than Awuerqi, the commander of the Hulan army, hurriedly donning his armor in the middle of the tent, surrounded by many Danzhi guards and officers—a tent full of black braids. Perhaps due to the chaotic situation and Duan Xu’s fluent Hu Qi language, he was merely scolded a few times before watching Awuerqi hurriedly stride forward, helmet under arm, cursing in crude Hu Qi language.

As he passed by Duan Xu, Duan Xu smiled slightly, and in a flash of cold light, the Truth-Breaking dual swords were unsheathed. Awuerqi’s bodyguards, not ordinary men, immediately sprang to pin Duan Xu down, but how could they match Duan Xu’s inhuman speed? Duan Xu spun to avoid them while slashing with both swords to the left and right simultaneously, moving so quickly only a shadow could be seen, and Awuerqi’s head, eyes wide open, fell to the ground as easily as slicing tofu.

This famous Danzhi general could never have expected to meet his end this way, dying at the hands of a youth not yet twenty.

The guards’ swords simultaneously wounded Duan Xu’s shoulder. Combined with his previous injury, he now had matching wounds on both sides. Duan Xu blocked the guard with his right sword, used his left sword to pick up the head from the ground, and efficiently wrapped it and tied it to his waist. Following this ostentatious assassination, a large number of Danzhi soldiers had converged, surrounding Duan Xu, but intimidated, no one stepped forward.

Duan Xu held his swords in both hands, casually twirling them, smiled faintly, and said, “Wow, so many corpses.”

He spoke these words in the Han language; among all the people in the camp, probably only He Simu could understand.

Duan Xu drew his left leg slightly back, then quickly charged into the midst of the soldiers. His disguise looked so much like a Hu Qi person that it confused the soldiers surrounding him. Not content with this advantage, Duan Xu was killed while simultaneously extinguishing the lights, and in a flash, he had put out all four lamps in the tent. The entire tent became pitch black, with only the intermittent sounds of groans and bodies falling. Archers who arrived later were dumbfounded, not knowing who to shoot, and quickly called for people to bring torches, but those carrying torches couldn’t squeeze in either, only illuminating a scene of chaotic darkness.

Amid this chaos, He Simu leisurely walked through the commander’s tent. The Danzhi had set up many tents outside the city, each looking the same—how did Duan Xu know which one was Awuerqi’s?

As she walked, she suddenly kicked a plate. Bending down to look, she discovered the porcelain plate contained several red-tailed fish, one half-eaten. Looking around, He Simu spotted a trembling blue-eyed white cat in the corner. Such cats were precious, like breeds from the Western Regions. Only someone of Awuerqi’s status could afford to keep one and bring it to the front lines.

He Simu thought for a moment and realized how Duan Xu had known.

Duan Xu must have known that Awuerqi was a cat lover who wouldn’t leave his pet behind even on the battlefield, and who fed it only small red-tailed fish. So that day on the city wall, when she told Duan Xu she saw soldiers carrying red-tailed fish into this tent, he knew it was the Hulan army’s command tent, where Awuerqi stayed.

When He Simu looked up again, Duan Xu had vanished. The commander’s tent, newly illuminated by firelight, was filled with corpses, almost all killed by having their throats cut, dying in a very orderly manner, though blood had spurted everywhere.

Just before Duan Xu began killing, didn’t he say something about so many corpses?

He Simu smiled lightly and murmured, “Arrogant boy.”

She floated out of the tent on her Ghost King Lantern and soon found her little general with the most beautiful skull. Now the Hulan military camp was in complete chaos, with soldiers suspecting each other of being Han people in disguise. The armory was burning, fire-laden war carts careening everywhere setting everything ablaze, and with the commander dead, it was like a pot of hot oil splashed with water—oil droplets splattering everywhere. Duan Xu ran at an astonishing speed, reaching the horse pens at the edge of the camp, seizing a warhorse, leaping onto its back, and galloping away.

Though some tried to stop him, they were no match, and many were shot dead with the bow Duan Xu had taken from some unfortunate soldier. He could be seen getting farther and farther away.

This fellow who caused such a commotion and then simply dusted himself off and left.

Among the living in this world, there was probably no one with better skills than him.

Simu floated to his side and asked coolly, “The armory?”

“Awuerqi habitually places the armory next to his command tent,” Duan Xu explained briefly.

“You truly have a naturally exceptional physique.”

Duan Xu laughed out loud. With high spirits, he said, “The last person to say that was my master. He always thought I was intelligent with extraordinary aptitude, destined for greatness, so he was quite good to me. Although he made me start killing at seven and had me kill all my peers by fourteen. But at least I deceived him, surviving through his favoritism.”

He Simu was startled, her gaze sinking slightly.

In the reflection of the firelight, Duan Xu was wounded in multiple places, his handsome, well-defined face stained with blood that might have been his or others’. Yet his eyes were extraordinarily bright, as if discussing something interesting, excessively joyful.

Previously, though his eyes always contained a smile, appearing carefree and inattentive, the depths of his gaze always held a sharp glint. But now, that glint showed signs of dispersing.

His joy was not quite normal.

“What’s wrong with you? Are you still clearheaded?” He Simu asked coldly.

No one else would ask if a person who had skillfully thrown an enemy camp into disarray and assassinated the commander was still clearheaded.

Duan Xu seemed to be momentarily stunned.

Suddenly, two arrows came whistling through the air. Duan Xu dodged the first one, but the second struck his horse’s leg. The horse neighed and tumbled to the ground. Duan Xu simultaneously leaped off, rolled on the ground, and stood up, looking at the mounted archer in the distance.

The Danzhi military camp had no time to react and couldn’t catch up with Duan Xu, but at least someone had caught up.

Heaven-Knowing Fifteen.

Fifteen pressed his lips tightly together, his cold eyes finally spreading with towering rage. He aimed at Duan Xu, gritting his teeth as he said, “Duan Xu! Who exactly are you? What have you done?”

Duan Xu was silent for a moment, then suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter. Stroking his forehead, his eyes curving with mirth, he said, “For someone from Heaven-Knowing, fighting one against a hundred, taking a general’s head amid ten thousand troops—isn’t that quite normal, Senior Brother Fifteen?”

New Year celebration fireworks rose from Shuozhou Prefecture city, bursting brilliantly in the sky, illuminating the pitch-black night with colorful splendor, lighting up the shock on Fifteen’s face.

“Senior Brother, you’ve got the wrong person. Han Lingqiu isn’t the Seventeenth; he was supposed to die because he lost to me in the Dark Trial.”

Duan Xu pointed to himself and said leisurely, “I am the real Seventeenth.”