Xiahou Zuo raised his hand and hurled his long blade. It was only in a situation like tonight’s that Li Diudiu truly came to understand Xiahou Zuo’s martial skill.

From the moment he’d come charging over, the way Xiahou Zuo carried himself was a completely different thing from the Xiahou Zuo who brawled with thugs and lowlifes at the academy. When he surged forward, his upper body was held low, the long blade strapped diagonally across his back ready to be drawn at any moment. One could easily imagine it—if there had been an enemy directly in front of Xiahou Zuo, the slash that would come from such a low-body charging draw would be ferociously powerful.

And while the man on the rooftop was still prattling on, Xiahou Zuo’s long blade became a streak of light flying through the air.

Yao Wuhen stepped back half a pace, left leg forward and slightly bent, right leg behind. Left hand pressing down on the scabbard. In the instant Xiahou Zuo’s blade came flying at him, his right hand gripped his own sword and swept it in a horizontal arc.

Flash against flash.

A clang rang out—and Xiahou Zuo’s blade went spinning off through the air.

Yao Wuhen looked down at his right hand, as though still taking stock of the force behind Xiahou Zuo’s throw.

“Good. Your martial skill surpasses the Gate Commander who just died.”

Yao Wuhen said: “But I have no interest in fighting you—no one’s bought your head.”

With that, Yao Wuhen turned and began walking away across the roof, saying as he went: “When you go back, tell the remaining three Gate Commanders of the Azure Ranks—I will kill them all. No amount of guarding against me will do any good.”

And in the moment of his self-assured turning away, a dark shape came bolting out from beside Xiahou Zuo.

Yao Wuhen had barely paid any attention to the person beside Xiahou Zuo—perhaps because Xiahou Zuo had been the first to step forward, perhaps because Xiahou Zuo’s presence was the strongest among those present. So he had overlooked the figure in seven-tenths trousers.

Xiahou Zuo had no blade in hand anymore. The distance between them was considerable. So when Yao Wuhen walked away, he was entirely confident.

But a few steps along, that seven-tenths-trousers figure launched himself from the side, grabbed the eave with his left hand and yanked—and his body vaulted up onto the roof.

It was only when Li Diudiu jumped onto the rooftop that Xiahou Zuo even realized it was Li Chi—he hadn’t noticed at all when Li Chi had bolted from his side.

Li Chi scrambled across the roof tiles in pursuit. Hearing footsteps, Yao Wuhen’s expression shifted slightly. He spun on the spot and swept his blade in a horizontal arc.

The blade hit nothing.

Li Diudiu seemed to have anticipated exactly that stroke. Rather than running normally when he landed on the roof, he chased like a wild animal, moving on all fours. It was a bizarre posture—hardly graceful, nowhere near the soaring, long-striding way Xiahou Zuo had arrived earlier—yet it worked.

The long blade swept above Li Diudiu’s head. And Li Diudiu’s own blade was in his mouth.

With the sword hilt clenched in his teeth, the moment Yao Wuhen’s stroke fell empty, Li Diudiu’s head snapped sharply—and the blade slashed toward Yao Wuhen’s legs.

“Holy—!”

Yao Wuhen leapt into the air.

Li Diudiu’s blade swept just below Yao Wuhen’s feet. So unexpected a strike, and yet Yao Wuhen had dodged it—Li Diudiu was genuinely surprised.

Yao Wuhen, having gone airborne, drove his blade down toward Li Diudiu’s back. Li Diudiu was still in his crawling stance—by any reasonable accounting, this strike had no way to miss.

But Li Diudiu never intended to dodge it. He drove his palms down and flipped forward—both legs lifting up into the air. It wasn’t a particularly refined technique, but executed in that split second of lightning-fast action, even Xiahou Zuo watching from below broke into a cold sweat.

Xiahou Zuo was certain Li Diudiu couldn’t avoid that blade. In that instant his eyes were flooding with color.

What Li Diudiu had done was essentially a forward somersault—and at the moment of near-inversion, his two feet came together in a bow-legged clap…

Palm met palm—catching the bare blade with empty feet.

Xiahou Zuo’s jaw dropped open.

The two feet clapped together and caught Yao Wuhen’s long blade between them. Then the inverted Li Diudiu immediately spun his body in a full rotation—and the startled Yao Wuhen, momentarily stunned, lost his grip. The blade went spinning out of his hand.

But Yao Wuhen’s reactions were fast enough. He immediately retreated at speed. That person’s martial style was too bizarre—but every technique was effective. He had to remember this person’s face.

So he looked carefully. Right at that moment, Li Diudiu rolled upright to his feet, and in that instant the distance between them was actually not very great—so the view was clear. Four eyes met.

“Holy—!”

Yao Wuhen let out another startled cry and shuddered.

Black face. White teeth. The black face was one thing—but those two rows of white teeth were genuinely unsettling.

Jolted out of his wits, Yao Wuhen was already flying backward—he kicked off hard, launched himself into the air, and landed behind the roof of the building. What the hell was that thing?

No time to think. He turned and fled.

After a good stretch of distance, he confirmed the person behind him wasn’t keeping up. That person’s martial skill was considerable, but their lightness technique seemed somewhat beneath his own—and indeed, those who could easily keep pace with Yao Wuhen were few in this jianghu.

Running along, he suddenly recalled a legend that had been circulating in Jizhou City not long ago. On the night of the great battle between the Azure Ranks and Wang Heita’s people, someone claimed to have seen a demon—a demon come to claim lives. The demon had said it would take three hundred souls. And that night, three hundred people had died.

Yao Wuhen didn’t believe in gods or demons. He’d always figured such tales were rumors distorted in the retelling.

Until just now, when he saw that terrifying face—and then he understood. It was genuinely a demon.

A master. And an assassin at that—a demon among assassins.

Yao Wuhen immediately made his assessment. His attention had been entirely on Xiahou Zuo at first. He had initially noticed there was someone beside Xiahou Zuo—but after exchanging a few words with Xiahou Zuo, that person had seemed to simply vanish into thin air.

Trying now to recall that stretch of time, his impression of the ghost-faced one was a complete blank. No impression at all. No idea where the man had gone.

That was a trait only true assassins possessed—the habit of deliberately making oneself fade at every moment, concealing one’s presence so as to deliver the killing blow when it mattered most.

An assassin of such skill—how had he never heard of this person? Could he also be newly entered into the trade? If so, wouldn’t that mean one more rival on the road to becoming the foremost assassin in the central plains?

The more he tried to recall, the more blurred the black-clad figure became—which was entirely contrary to reason. Shouldn’t a memory become clearer the more one revisited it?

“A true master…”

Yao Wuhen murmured to himself.

He ran straight back to where he was staying, secured the door, and sat down inside. He tried once more to carefully reconstruct everything about that black-clad figure.

Black face. Seven-tenths trousers.

That was all.

You see—rhyming isn’t actually that difficult.

—

Out on the street, a carriage moved slowly forward. Xiahou Zuo sat inside, feeling heavy. A Gate Commander killed so easily, and the killer arrogant enough to return after the deed and openly provoke them.

What an extraordinarily self-confident assassin. And he genuinely had the ability to back it up.

“Little Diu.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at Li Diudiu and asked: “That man who called himself Yao Wuhen—what do you make of his martial skill?”

Li Diudiu considered and answered: “I can’t beat him. Not yet.”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Your few techniques clearly had him on the back foot—you obviously had the upper hand.”

Li Diudiu said: “Before I went up, I ran through in my mind what his likely responses would be. I anticipated two of his moves. First—when he heard footsteps behind him, he wouldn’t look back first; he’d strike first.”

“Second—if he dodged my blade, the only way was to jump up. And having jumped up, he’d have the advantage again. From above, he could drive his blade down into my back.”

Li Diudiu looked at Xiahou Zuo. “I only anticipated those two moves. I couldn’t project further—and there wasn’t time. But if the fight had continued, I would have lost. If I’d chased him, I would have died.”

He paused, then continued: “That person has killed a great many people. He practices martial arts for the purpose of killing—I don’t. Physical conditioning, experience, technique… I’d say another two years before I can match him evenly.”

Li Diudiu had said so much, and it caused Xiahou Zuo to look at him with new eyes.

He’d known Li Diudiu was quite capable in a fight—but he hadn’t expected that before throwing himself into it, Li Diudiu had been thinking all of that through.

He let out a breath and said: “You actually think that much before a fight.”

Li Diudiu asked curiously: “Don’t you?”

Xiahou Zuo gave a deliberately casual nod. “I do too.”

Li Diudiu asked: “What do you think about?”

Xiahou Zuo looked at him and answered: “Hit.”

Li Diudiu blinked. “What… what does that mean?”

Xiahou Zuo said: “Just hit. What’s all the thinking for…”

Li Diudiu finally understood. He gave Xiahou Zuo a sideways look. “Absolute simpleton.”

Xiahou Zuo raised his hand and vigorously ruffled Li Diudiu’s head. Li Diudiu was shaken back and forth, hair going in every direction.

When Xiahou Zuo stopped, he let out a breath and said: “In all likelihood this person is Lian Gongming’s—either one of his operatives or a hired assassin. His target is the Gate Commanders—because the Gate Commanders have a particular status… they’re very important subordinates to the Military Governor. This is Lian Gongming telling the Military Governor that he’s ready to fight to the death.”

Li Diudiu said: “So… this kind of enemy isn’t worth fearing.”

Xiahou Zuo looked at Li Diudiu. “Why?”

Li Diudiu answered seriously: “If Lian Gongming had submitted, this kind of enemy would be worth being wary of. If Lian Gongming had fled, this kind of enemy would be even more worth being wary of. But he’s neither submitting nor fleeing—this kind of opponent actually gives us nothing to worry about.”

Xiahou Zuo thought it over and found that quite sound.

“When you get back, what do you plan to tell the Military Governor?”

Li Diudiu said: “Have the remaining three Gate Commanders go into hiding for a few days?”

“Hiding?”

Xiahou Zuo shook his head. “The Azure Ranks—there is no hiding.”

At that moment the carriage came to a stop. With the sound of wheels no longer turning, other sounds became clear. Li Diudiu tilted his head and listened—he heard the footsteps of many people.

Xiahou Zuo pushed the carriage door open and stepped down. Li Diudiu jumped out after him—and what he saw stopped him cold.

On the street ahead of them, an orderly column was advancing—identical in dress, blue robes, bamboo hats, blades worn diagonally across the back.

At the very front walked three figures—the three Gate Commanders Yao Wuhen intended to kill.

One of them stepped forward and looked at Xiahou Zuo. “Xiahou—you all go back first.”

Xiahou Zuo asked: “Three Gate Commanders, are you going to—”

Before he could finish, the Gate Commander who had just spoken answered.

“Tonight. Jizhou City. Every operation Lian Gongming owns. Clean sweep.”

—