The night was deep, and the north wind made the worn window shutters creak and rattle. Such weather always stirred a desire to burrow into bed covers, especially when the bed was already warm and inviting from someone sleeping in it.
Fan Changyu hugged her arms, leaning against the bedpost with her eyes closed for a brief rest, but her ears remained alert to the movements downstairs. Once Aunt Zhao and Carpenter Zhao had gone to bed, she quickly went home to fetch the land deed and returned with a cotton quilt to sleep on the floor.
Since Fan Da’s incident yesterday, she had barely closed her eyes. Her body was exhausted, but her mind remained tense, not daring to relax for a moment.
The person beside her was breathing shallowly. Perhaps due to the orange peel candy he had eaten, Fan Changyu could faintly smell a light citrus fragrance from him. She unconsciously recalled the moment in the pine forest when he had held her hand to teach her moves, his breath falling on her ear as he spoke.
Her ears inexplicably grew hot, but thankfully, nothing could be seen in the darkness of night.
Fan Changyu was about to rub her ears when the person beside her suddenly sat up silently. Before she could react, a slender finger, carrying only a hint of warmth, was pressed against her lips. His long hair fell forward, brushing against the back of her hand, causing a slight tingling and coolness.
He was very close to her, and the citrus scent from his body grew stronger.
Fan Changyu was startled at first, but upon hearing the light, cat-like footsteps on the roof tiles, she immediately pricked up her ears.
Seeing this, Xie Zheng withdrew the finger he had pressed to her lips without a word.
The side of his finger had touched something red, moist, and soft, as delicate as flower petals with morning dew.
He slightly furrowed his brow, rubbing the hot and tingling skin on his fingertip forcefully, suppressing all the unusual feelings in his heart.
The footsteps on the roof were light and chaotic, seemingly more than one person. After a moment, some footsteps stopped not far away, judging by the distance, on the roof of the Fan family house.
Others continued forward, stopping on the roof of the Zhao family house. Soon, there was a faint sound of tiles being moved, and a very thin bamboo tube was inserted through the gap in the tiles, emitting a wisp of blue smoke.
The two covered their noses and mouths with their collars and exchanged a glance in the darkness, illuminated only by the faint light from the window.
There was a commotion at the dilapidated window, and a dark shadow silently crept in.
Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng stood on either side of the bed curtain, initially gesturing silently about how to deal with the intruder unnoticed once they approached the bed. However, as seven or eight more people crept in through the window one after another, they no longer had any plan.
The room was small, and the intruders would soon discover them.
Fan Changyu’s lips were pressed tightly together as she discreetly reached for the boning knife she kept on her person.
A black-clad figure swung a knife fiercely towards the bed. The dull feeling of the knife sinking into the bedding made him instantly change his expression: “It’s a trap!”
Immediately after, he felt a chill at his waist, and a figure quickly darted out from the side of the bed curtain, making a desperate lunge towards the window with a loud “bang.”
A black-clad figure outside, who was still sliding down a rope tied to the roof and hadn’t yet entered the room, was directly knocked flying by the figure rushing out from inside, using him as a cushion as they crashed into the courtyard. Several of the blue bricks on the ground cracked.
The person quickly got up, and it turned out to be a woman.
Taking advantage of the black-clad man’s dazed state from the fall, she quickly delivered a hefty slap, knocking him unconscious. She then picked up the black-clad man’s sword and ran towards the courtyard exit.
All this happened in an instant, leaving the black-clad intruders inside the room stunned. When they finally reacted, they shouted, “Chase her!”
A group of them jumped out the window like dumplings being dropped into water, giving chase.
Xie Zheng, hiding on the other side of the bed curtain, hadn’t expected Fan Changyu to risk herself alone. He quickly realized she was deliberately drawing away these black-clad men to protect him and the elderly couple downstairs, along with her younger sister. His heart sank for a moment.
As the last few black-clad men in the room were about to jump out the window, he flicked a crystal-clear orange peel candy from his fingertips.
The black-clad man who had just jumped out the window was hit in the back of the knee, losing balance in mid-air and falling directly.
Hearing the commotion behind them, the remaining few suddenly realized there was still someone in the room. They were among the elite of the death squads, yet they hadn’t detected his presence for so long after entering the room. How extraordinary must his ability to hold his breath be?
They didn’t dare to be careless and turned to slash at him with their knives.
A few more orange peel candies flicked from Xie Zheng’s fingers, striking their elbows, knee hollows, and waist acupoints, slowing their movements by a beat. This slight delay was enough for him to seize their weapons and take their lives.
After dealing with two black-clad men, the sword he had seized was now at the throat of the injured black-clad man.
That black-clad man was clutching his side, his hand covered in blood.
The weapon that had slashed across his waist earlier was sharp and slender, unlike a dagger, an unknown type of weapon. Now, with a blood-stained blade at his throat, he dared not move.
Xie Zheng was about to knock this man unconscious, temporarily keeping him alive to help Fan Changyu.
Suddenly, there was a blaze of torchlight on the main street outside the alley, and the sound of horse hooves shattered the silence of the night. The clanking of armor and footsteps of infantry intertwined like a net, and the “whoosh” of arrows sent chills down one’s spine.
The black-clad men chasing Fan Changyu were directly shot into sieves by the barrage of arrows.
Xie Zheng frowned slightly, his mind filled with doubts.
There was no garrison in Qingping County, so how did these official troops appear so quickly in a small town under Qingping County?
Seeing that Fan Changyu was safe, he abandoned the thought of going after her. He pressed his five fingers against the jaw of the black-clad man he had subdued, forcing him to spit out the poison sac hidden between his teeth. Pressing the blade down, he asked in a cold voice, “What did Wei Yan send you to find?”
The black-clad man, seeing how familiar he was with the location of the Wei family’s death squad’s poison sac, carefully assessed his voice and asked uncertainly, “Marquis?”
The sharp knife pressed down a bit more. Firelight from the broken window reflected off the blade onto Xie Zheng’s face, cutting a bright arc in the thick, cold darkness. His slightly downturned mouth was cold and impatient as he said, “Answer me.”
The cold wind carried snowflakes into the room, falling on the black-clad man’s neck. Colder than the flying snow was the sharp blade that had already cut through a thin layer of skin on his neck.
Fear and pressure washed over him like a tide. The black-clad man swallowed hard and pleaded, “Marquis knows the Minister’s methods, why trouble this lowly one…”
In the next instant, the knife had already stabbed directly into the gash on his waist. The black-clad man let out an extremely pained groan, his entire body curling up.
Xie Zheng lowered his eyes, his pale fingers covered in dark scabs twisting the knife handle, almost literally tearing a chunk of flesh from his abdomen. His tone was casual yet cold, “The mouths of military spies are tougher than yours. Minister of Justice Zhang Su once watched a military interrogation and nearly vomited bile after leaving the camp. He even fell seriously ill afterward. Do you want to try the military’s torture methods?”
Minister of Justice Zhang Su was known throughout the court for his harsh punishments. It was said that those who fell into his hands, if not dead, would be flayed alive. Everyone called him the “Living King of Hell.”
The black-clad man couldn’t suppress his screams, cold sweat pouring down his forehead. All his senses seemed to be concentrated on the mangled flesh in his abdomen. His clothes were soaked through, but it was unclear whether with blood or sweat. No longer hoping to live, only wishing for a quick death, he said exhaustedly, “A letter… the Minister told us to find a letter…”
Xie Zheng’s eyes narrowed slightly, “What letter?”
The black-clad man just shook his head, his entire body collapsed on the ground, begging, “This lowly one truly doesn’t know anymore…”
The sword blade slashed across his throat, and the black-clad man bled out on the ground.
A letter?
Xie Zheng frowned. What letter in that woman’s home could make Wei Yan so wary?
He looked out the window at the torch-lit street. The woman was standing by the roadside, seemingly explaining the situation to the officials. The elderly couple, probably feeling safe now but still worried about Fan Changyu, had come to the courtyard gate with the child to watch.
The officials were dragging away the bodies of the black-clad men. A few who weren’t quite dead quickly bit into their poison sacs and took their own lives.
The commander on horseback shouted, “Find a live one to take back!”
Xie Zheng’s gaze, which had only lightly swept over this person, narrowed when he saw his face.
Zheng Wenchang?
He was a favored general of Ha Jingyuan, the Governor of Jizhou, who was also part of the Wei faction.
Was tonight’s event a case of mistaken identity, or was Ha Jingyuan also helping Wei Yan look for that letter, arranging this scene to intercept it?
But judging by the actions of those black-clad men, they hadn’t found anything. The timely arrival of the Jizhou officials was indeed intriguing…
Xie Zheng suddenly felt that the seemingly unremarkable butcher’s family in Lin’an Town might be hiding more than he had imagined.
The commander on horseback was directing his subordinates to quickly take away all the bodies of the black-clad men when he suddenly felt a cold gaze fall upon him as if he were being watched by a wolf on a snowy night in the wilderness. His entire back involuntarily straightened.
Zheng Wenchang looked around but could no longer see that chilling gaze. He noticed that the window of the Zhao family’s loft was empty and asked, “Is there still someone upstairs?”
Fan Changyu had earlier jumped out the window to lure away most of the black-clad men to protect the Zhao couple and her younger sister, prepared to sacrifice herself. She hadn’t expected a squad of officials to suddenly appear on the street, saying they had received a report from the county magistrate yesterday about bandit issues in Qingping County and had specially dispatched a troop to inspect. Night scouts had discovered unusual activity, so a squad had come to investigate, coincidentally saving her.
Now, hearing the military officer’s question and thinking of Yan Zheng’s injuries, not knowing if any black-clad men had discovered him inside, she hurriedly ran towards the loft: “My husband is seriously injured, still upstairs.”
Zheng Wenchang didn’t send any of his subordinates but decided to go himself, one hand on the sword at his waist, following her up to the loft: “This general will go and see.”
When Fan Changyu rushed into the loft with a torch, she saw several dead black-clad men sprawled across the room, and Xie Zheng lying in a pool of blood. His clothes were slashed in several places, and half of his face turned upwards and was covered in fresh blood, making his original features almost unrecognizable.
Fan Changyu hadn’t expected so many black-clad men to remain in the room. Seeing Xie Zheng covered in blood and fearing he might be dead, her heart clenched. She rushed over to check his injuries: “Yan Zheng, how are you?”
In her panic, she reached out to feel for his breath, only relaxing when she found he was still alive. She called out loudly, “Uncle Zhao, please come and check on Yan Zheng!”
Zheng Wenchang, who had entered the loft with two soldiers, swept his gaze over the dead men in the room. His eyes fell on Xie Zheng’s blood-covered half-face, seemingly trying hard to recognize something. He frowned and asked, “Were all these men killed by your husband?”