Apart from Helian Shang, several others had also gone out to gather information. Two of them were the very men who had carried Helian Shang back.

The members of this group didn’t all know each other well. Even those like Helian Shang and Helian Xia, who held Fang Zhuhou in the deepest respect, didn’t actually know very much about him.

They revered Fang Zhuhou for the kind of man he was — and in truth, whether on the open roads or the hidden paths of the Yuzhou City jianghu, there were very few who did not respect Fang Zhuhou.

This group had been assembled from different places. The one who had drawn them all together was the inner palace’s Chief Attendant, Zhen Xiaodao.

And the one person within this group who knew everyone best was Qu Nanhuai — appointed by Zhen Xiaodao specifically for that role.

Now Qu Nanhuai was dead just like that, and Helian Shang was dead as well. In an instant, the group was blanketed by an atmosphere that was both eerie and bitterly grievous.

Helian Xia knelt on the ground, weeping until he could barely breathe, his entire body shaking violently.

The two brothers had depended on each other through all these years — through every hardship, exhaustion, and danger they had endured. Yet right here, barely after entering Yuzhou City, his elder brother was gone.

Neither of them had ever spoken words about dying together. But both had always known that in this world, each had only the other to lean on.

“Did you see clearly?”

Fang Zhuhou asked.

The two men who had returned were named Deng Lu and Xie Tingtai. Both had some reputation in Daxing City, though they didn’t appear to know each other particularly well.

Deng Lu was the most formidable enforcer working under the gambling lord known as Boss Gao, the dominant power in Daxing City’s gambling circles. Xie Tingtai was a swordsman accustomed to walking alone.

“Qu Nanhuai had originally arranged for the two of us to keep watch on the street near that place called Songhe Tower. We’d found out that Prince Ning’s people might be preparing something at Songhe Tower, and we’d also spotted Prince Ning, Li Chi, entering Songhe Tower early that morning.”

Xie Tingtai said: “Qu Nanhuai told the two of us to stay on that street and keep a close watch. About an hour or so later, Qu Nanhuai came back, asked us if anything unusual had happened, and then said he was going to go buy some provisions.”

Disbelief still lingered in his eyes. Even now he hadn’t fully come to terms with what had happened.

Xie Tingtai continued: “But he hadn’t gone far when he ran into a few men coming out of Songhe Tower. They stopped him and questioned him because of the pack he was carrying on his back. The two of us didn’t dare approach to help — we kept watching from behind the whole time.”

“Then, for some reason, those men suddenly attacked. Qu Nanhuai knocked two of them down and turned to flee — and then… from Songhe Tower, a blade came flying out and skewered him clean through.”

Fang Zhuhou frowned. “No one was seen — just a blade that flew out?”

Deng Lu gave a nod. “No one was seen. We only saw the blade fly out.”

Fang Zhuhou looked toward the already-dead Helian Shang. “And how was he killed?”

This time Deng Lu and Xie Tingtai both shook their heads at the same moment.

Xie Tingtai said: “Honestly, we never saw how he was wounded at all. After Qu Nanhuai was killed, we couldn’t go to help, so we tried to find a place to hide and wait for a chance to retrieve the body. When we ducked into an alley, we found him already collapsed there.”

Deng Lu added: “He was still able to speak clearly at that point. He told us it was someone in black brocade robes who had ambushed him.”

Fang Zhuhou’s frown deepened. “The Tingwei Army?”

He fell silent for a moment, then swept his gaze across everyone present. “Bury the dead. After that, you are all to go to the second safe house Qu Nanhuai spoke of. Until I return, no one is to go outside freely.”

With that, he flashed out of the courtyard in an instant.

When they had set out, Qu Nanhuai had told them that Zhen Xiaodao had arranged three safe houses in Yuzhou for this trip. One of them was here — Qu Nanhuai’s old residence — and the other two were residences used by agents the imperial court had placed in Yuzhou.

Qu Nanhuai had mentioned that the Emperor had once dispatched many people to infiltrate various regions to gather intelligence, and there were some stationed right in Yuzhou City.

Before they had arrived, Eunuch Zhen Xiaodao had already sent someone ahead to make contact, ensuring there would be people at the safe houses ready to receive them.

Having barely entered Yuzhou City and already losing two people — one of them Qu Nanhuai, who had been overseeing the entire operation — it was inevitable that a shadow would settle over everyone’s heart.

Helian Xia had no shadow — only a shadow of blood. He wanted revenge, and he would have it.

Without a word, he lifted Helian Shang’s body and carried it to a cleaner spot in the courtyard. He set it down gently, then began to dig with his own weapon.

Helian Xia had stopped crying. He said nothing. He just dug, one stroke at a time.

The others came over to help, but Helian Xia refused them all. He dug the earth pit alone, then lowered Helian Shang’s body into it.

He stood there for a long while, spoke one single sentence, then turned and walked away.

“After I kill Prince Ning, I’ll bring you home.”

—

At the same time, Songhe Tower.

Li Chi stood at the entrance, staring at the bloodstains on the main street. Eyes narrowed, he appeared to be turning something over in his mind.

By now, Songhe Tower was fully staffed inside and out with Cao Lie’s people. A considerable number of them were covertly watching the surroundings in all directions — any movement, no matter how small, would be detected.

Yet even under such close surveillance, someone had died not far from Songhe Tower — and died under inexplicable circumstances.

An outsider had been ambushed and struck down, the body left to fall no more than twenty zhang from Songhe Tower’s front entrance.

And in an alley roughly forty zhang from Songhe Tower, considerable traces of blood had also been found — though no body was visible anywhere.

Cao Lie walked to Li Chi’s side. “Something’s off. This whole thing is strange.”

Li Chi gave a small nod.

Of course something was off.

Cao Lie had put the word out first thing in the morning. Not even two hours had passed before someone was killed outside Songhe Tower.

The killer and the victim — neither could be identified.

Cao Lie said: “I had people check. The identification papers found on the dead man appear to be forged. According to the travel permit, he came from Qingzhou — but of course, everything we can see is fabricated.”

Li Chi turned and glanced at the body that had been laid out on the floor of Songhe Tower’s main hall — it had only just been carried in moments ago. They couldn’t very well leave it out on the street; that would frighten ordinary passersby.

“Besides all that, was there anything else on the body?”

Li Chi asked.

Cao Lie said: “A small amount of scattered silver — no more than ten or so taels combined. His pack contained rations, mostly gone. No weapons, no hidden projectiles, no poison.”

While the two of them were discussing this, Fang Zhuhou had already stepped into an inn directly across from Songhe Tower.

He hadn’t so much as glanced at Songhe Tower as he entered. Once inside, he immediately said he wanted to treat some friends to a meal and asked the proprietor to arrange a private room on the second floor overlooking the street.

A young attendant led Fang Zhuhou upstairs. Fang Zhuhou said he’d need to wait a bit until his companions arrived before ordering, and the attendant had no reason to suspect anything — he exchanged a few pleasantries and then went back downstairs.

Standing at the window, Fang Zhuhou looked toward Songhe Tower across the street. With only a single street between them, he saw at a glance that there was a body lying on the floor inside Songhe Tower.

Having recognized in that same glance that it was Qu Nanhuai’s body, a rare killing intent seeped from Fang Zhuhou’s eyes.

“Was I wrong?”

Fang Zhuhou murmured to himself.

Then he saw a young man in black brocade robes standing at Songhe Tower’s entrance, looking in his direction. A moment later, he watched as that young man exchanged a few words with someone beside him.

Shortly after, Fang Zhuhou noticed people begin to move toward his direction from both sides of Songhe Tower — all of them appearing to be unhurried passersby, yet in all likelihood they were skilled fighters.

Fang Zhuhou didn’t concern himself with skilled fighters. He never had.

Cen Xiaoxiao was approaching from the other flank, with the others serving as cover for him.

The people moving over from both sides of Songhe Tower were meant only to occupy Fang Zhuhou’s attention.

Prince Ning had said: the man standing at the window of the inn across the way was suspicious — and the moment he heard it, Cen Xiaoxiao’s fighting spirit surged up from deep within.

Yu Jiuling was his friend. Not long ago they had faced life and death together on Yang Xuanji’s territory.

Fang Zhuhou saw those men approaching. After a moment’s silence, he ultimately chose to leave first.

He stepped out of the private room, walked a few steps to the second-floor corridor, and had barely entered it when he saw a young man standing at the top of the staircase. The look in that young man’s eyes held killing intent.

An instant later, a sword thrust toward Fang Zhuhou.

This young man’s sword was absurdly fast. In Daxing City, Fang Zhuhou had encountered many fine young fighters — Helian Shang and Helian Xia were among the ones he had found most impressive. Both brothers struck with great speed. But compared to this young man who had suddenly attacked — it seemed they fell somewhat short.

Not in speed, but in the aura and ferocity of a one-strike kill.

That sword reached Fang Zhuhou’s throat in an instant — yet in that same instant, Fang Zhuhou vanished before Cen Xiaoxiao’s eyes.

The next instant, Cen Xiaoxiao spun sharply and swept his sword behind him — and sliced through empty air again.

Looking up, he saw that the middle-aged man in pale green robes had already leapt out through the rear window.

Cen Xiaoxiao stood there, maintaining his sword grip, and didn’t move for quite a while. It was only when others came rushing in through the front entrance that Cen Xiaoxiao snapped back to his senses.

He looked down.

There was a chopstick lodged in his collar.

Had the man from earlier intended to kill him, that chopstick should by rights be lodged in his throat.

The very moment that realization struck, Cen Xiaoxiao felt a cold sweat break across his entire back.

Cen Xiaoxiao was quite proud of himself. Some said he was Cao Lie’s shadow; Cao Lie himself said he was a shadow even stronger than Cao Lie.

Everything Cao Lie had learned, he had learned. Everything Cao Lie had not learned, he had also learned. With the Cao family’s resources in wealth, materials, and personnel, they had invited countless masters to teach him. He hadn’t inherited any single person’s abilities — he had fused together the strengths of many.

Yet in that moment just now, all those combined strengths had meant absolutely nothing.

—

Not long after, Li Chi and Cao Lie also arrived at the inn. When Cao Lie saw Cen Xiaoxiao, that chopstick was still lodged in Cen Xiaoxiao’s collar.

So Cao Lie’s expression shifted immediately.

“Did you dodge it?”

He asked.

Cen Xiaoxiao shook his head. “No.”

Cao Lie looked at Li Chi. Li Chi’s gaze was also fixed on that chopstick.

Looking at the chopstick, Li Chi couldn’t help but think of the wound on Yu Jiuling — if that person had wanted to kill him, how could Yu Jiuling possibly have survived? First, an iron skewer had pierced through Yu Jiuling yet precisely avoided every vital organ. Now, a chopstick was being used to tell Cen Xiaoxiao: your life is simply not mine to take.

Cao Lie was silent for a while, then asked Li Chi: “Does martial skill have a limit?”

Li Chi said: “Perhaps. We may be about to witness the limit, and soon.”

—

A short while later, the Tingwei Army Thousand-Commander Zaoyun Jian returned from outside. Coming before Li Chi, he bent in a bow: “My lord… I lost him. No — I couldn’t keep up.”

Among the four youngest Thousand-Commanders, Zaoyun Jian had the finest lightness skill and footwork.

About three li from here stood a Daoist temple, and within its grounds rose a stone pagoda — one of the relatively tall landmarks in Yuzhou City.

At the very top level of the stone pagoda, a figure almost entirely concealed beneath a cloak raised a spyglass and peered toward this direction.

The corners of his mouth curved in a smile — cold and unsettling.

Resting against the wall beside him was a long saber. On its blade, a trace of blood still lingered.

—