Stepping into this magnificent and vast unfamiliar mansion, Wei Xun felt a flicker of familiarity. More than twenty days ago, he seemed to have infiltrated this place.
He didn’t know who owned this grand estate, nor had any interest in inquiring. At that time, his heart held only one thought—to steal a rare and beautiful flower to make her smile.
Tonight, this mansion was far from peaceful. On the ground lay the corpse of a guard killed by bow and arrow. Wei Xun bent down to examine the body, noticing that the arrow’s tail feathers weren’t the common three-fletched type, but uniquely four-fletched, and the shaft was more than four inches longer than ordinary arrows. The arrowhead had penetrated extremely deep, showing the bow’s strength was extraordinarily powerful.
Wei Xun’s heart pounded wildly, nearly jumping from his throat.
After discovering the rouge marks, before Tuoba Sanniang could even roll up her sleeves to employ her methods, Ruan San honestly revealed the source of the barbarian boy’s corpse. Prince Qi’s mansion—this estate ranking among the absolute top of Luoyang’s nobility—regularly and quietly transported young, beautiful female corpses out through its back door. This was also the only place still using eunuchs after the imperial family returned to Chang’an. The income from selling corpses was extra compensation for stewards and gatekeepers. Mangbei Hall never asked many questions when collecting bodies.
Could she have been imprisoned here all along? Were those three finger rouge marks on the barbarian boy’s chest the final signal she managed to send out?
The mysterious archer was unstoppable, leaving corpse after corpse fallen along their path. Though these guards wielded sharp weapons, they wore no armor. Four-fletched arrows could easily pierce through their cloth-clad flesh and blood.
The enormous mansion was intricate and complex, with courtyards nested within each other like a labyrinth. Wei Xun still didn’t know where she was, only following the trail of corpses deeper into the estate.
When Dong Shiguang failed to return, Li Yu lost patience and sent another servant to Xiangyun Hall to hurry him along. Instead, they found the steward dead with a deep hole in his abdomen, nearly drained of blood.
The servant screamed in terror, summoning guards rushing to the scene. But Baozhu had already fastened the arrow-filled quiver around her waist.
She calmly nocked an arrow and drew the bow. The first blade she shot tonight hit its target precisely. No longer deliberately avoiding vital points or avoiding killing, when they served as Prince Qi’s accomplices, they had shown no mercy to any weak person either.
Li Yu was probably in his own bedchamber right now. Baozhu had never been there, but a prince’s mansion was a miniature version of the imperial palace. Judging from Xiangyun Hall’s location, the master’s bedchamber should be in the northeast direction.
Baozhu fought as she advanced, four-fletched arrows flying one after another like meteors chasing the moon. Without thumb rings for protection, the bowstring cut deep into her finger flesh, but she felt nothing. This giant bow’s draw weight exceeded her arm strength limit, yet somehow tonight she seemed divinely aided, able to easily draw it to full extension, as if several invisible hands rested on the bowstring and bow limbs, silently helping her exert force.
Recalling the bloody bare feet she’d seen at death’s edge, the pale faces streaming with bloody tears, she thought: at this moment, she wasn’t fighting alone. This wasn’t just her personal resentment and hatred.
Prince Qi’s mansion had fewer than a hundred guards with poor equipment. Most critically, they lacked the loyal will to die protecting their master. After Baozhu shot seven or eight men with deadly precision like falling stars, the others showed fear on their faces, shouting loudly as they retreated.
Baozhu thought to herself: this rabble posed no threat, but Prince Qi still had two skilled guards protecting him. One quiver held thirty arrows—she hoped to find her target before her life burned out.
When that bamboo-pole-thin tall man came over the wall, Baozhu thought the real challenge had arrived.
She shot her first arrow at Zhang Gougou. He sidestepped, his form flickering, narrowly dodging. This was the lightness skill master who could lure the Blue-Robed Guest away. Arrows flew one after another in rapid succession, but each missed by inches. Zhang Gougou dodged while slowly closing distance with snake-like, rat-like steps.
During the kidnapping that day, they had thoroughly assessed her abilities. Besides decent arm strength, she hadn’t learned any other close-combat skills. Killing the steward with a dagger was probably just luck.
The deadly crisis drew closer. Baozhu was already considering mutual destruction strategies. Suddenly, a blue shadow silently attacked from the side like a fierce large cat, suddenly pouncing Zhang Gougou to the ground. With a crisp crack of neck bones, he had no power to resist. His head was completely twisted half a circle around, face pointing toward his back, instantly losing all response.
Wei Xun dropped the deformed corpse in his hands and slowly stood up. Due to extreme excitement, he couldn’t suppress his whole body’s muscle tremors, causing tinnitus to begin.
He had fantasized countless scenarios of finding her again. There might be all kinds of unbearable situations—he always imagined she would be tearful, whether from grievance, pain, or anger. But he hadn’t expected that at this moment her eye sockets were completely dry, her gaze calm as the cold moonlight.
After Zhang Gougou died, Baozhu drew another arrow from her quiver and nocked it, her movements skilled and smooth, the arrowhead pointing directly at the blue-robed man’s chest.
Seeing this, Wei Xun’s heart shattered with madness, thinking desperately: she’d been tortured until her mind was unclear and couldn’t recognize him.
All exposed skin was horrifying to behold, as if scalded by boiling water. Her eye sockets were sunken, haggard and withered, her entire person emaciated—worse than when rescued from the tomb. She wore only a silk sheet, dark red blood plasma sticking the fabric to her skin.
“Baozhu, Baozhu, it’s me…” Wei Xun choked as he softly called her name, exposing all vital points to her arrowhead, opening his arms and slowly approaching.
Baozhu remained expressionless, drawing the bow to full extension. From her cold, cracked lips came one word: “Duck.”
Without hesitation, Wei Xun immediately followed her command and crouched down. The moment those words left her mouth, the arrow left the string, whooshing past Wei Xun’s head like lightning, hitting Xu Shiyi hiding behind him.
One arrow through the throat.
Watching Senior Brother Zhang Gougou get his neck twisted, Xu Shiyi made no sound. He knew direct confrontation was impossible, so while the blue-robed man was emotionally agitated and completely unguarded, he quietly approached, attempting a sneak attack with a heavy punch. In his thinking, no master in the world could emerge unscathed from this thunderous strike.
Similarly, no master in the world could withstand an arrow through the throat.
The mantis stalks the cicada while the oriole waits behind—this arrow was completely unexpected. Looking at the tail feathers embedded in flesh before his eyes, Xu Shiyi’s face showed shock. After falling, he struggled briefly before finally expiring.
Wei Xun glanced back at this despicable, wretched man, understanding immediately. With no other enemies in the courtyard, he again rushed toward Baozhu, his heart filled only with thoughts of embracing her and leaving this place of trouble to treat her wounds and provide emergency aid.
“I came too late,” he extended his arms, saying with a face full of shame.
“You came just in time.” Baozhu didn’t immediately throw herself into his embrace. She staggered a step, reaching out to support herself on his arm, catching her breath slightly, and commanded in a hoarse voice: “The master of this mansion—a middle-aged man in purple robes with a jade crown—must die by my hand.”
She had no extra strength for anger, no extra moisture for tears. Every ounce of remaining energy had to be used for the coming revenge.
Without need for lengthy explanations, just through skin contact, her intentions immediately transmitted to Wei Xun’s mind. He instantly understood—her vengeance couldn’t wait until morning.
Baozhu looked up at the high-hanging moon.
Bow, arrows, lynx—the three pieces of equipment were complete. The hunting moment had arrived.
Suddenly, she felt an itch in her throat. An irrepressible surge of intense emotion burst forth, her hoarse roar tearing through the night sky: “Li Yu! When will the sun perish? I shall die together with you!”
That roar was strange, seeming to overlay seven different voice tones, as if seven people were shouting angrily simultaneously.
Prince Qi’s guards hastily opened the long-sealed armory. The invading enemies numbered only two, but together they were unstoppable. Whether in ranged attacks or close combat, no one could survive even one move against them. There weren’t enough protective armor pieces—they urgently needed more powerful weapons to resist these formidable enemies.
However, to great disappointment, the bows, crossbows, shields and other items in the armory were still the same old goods from twenty years ago when Prince Qi first came to Luoyang. He had no hunting hobbies and never thought to have people maintain them. After years of decay, they had long since molded and cracked—not one piece was usable.
With two skilled guards already dead, the rest were no match. To stop the enemies required fighting with their lives. But for just a salary, no one was willing to offer their precious life for Prince Qi. The guards shouted attack slogans but hid behind walls, fearing the enemy like tigers, none willing to show themselves.
A passing courtesan quietly pointed out Li Yu’s residence. Baozhu led Wei Xun, killing their way northeast. With him quickly recovering arrows, there was no need to worry about running out of ammunition—they could fight freely.
Passing through a guest reception hall, Baozhu saw two tea bowls on the table. Servants hadn’t had time to collect and wash them, leaving half a bowl of cold tea. Someone had drunk from it—it was safe. Without thinking, she picked it up and drained it in one gulp.
Wei Xun silently watched her every move, feeling his heart break. After twenty days of devastating torture, she who loved cleanliness no longer cared whether cups were clean.
Finally reaching Prince Qi’s bedchamber courtyard, Baozhu commanded: “Go find him.”
Wei Xun took the order and rushed out, carefully searching room by room. News spread quickly—many had heard of the powerful enemy attack and hid in various corners, not daring to make a sound.
“Li Yu! When will the sun perish? I shall die together with you!” Baozhu again roared by name, seven-fold voices echoing throughout the entire courtyard.
Wei Xun found the purple-robed man behind a screen. He made no sound, listening to the cursing outside while curled up trembling in a corner. This was him—this person must be the chief villain who tortured Baozhu. Wei Xun’s eyes blazed with fury, his knuckles cracking, hatred nearly bursting his chest. But quickly, he suppressed his killing intent. This was her prey—she demanded personal revenge.
“Run!” Wei Xun stepped forward and lightly kicked him, saying, “If you can escape, I’ll spare your life.”
Li Yu looked uncertainly at this strange blue-robed man, who urged him to flee again. With desperate hope, he rolled and crawled out from behind the screen, fleeing in panic into the courtyard—the most suitable open space for hunting.
Wei Xun said softly, “But she won’t spare you.”
Baozhu instantly locked onto her prey, extending her arms to draw the giant bow. Blood from her lacerated fingers slowly trickled down the bowstring. She focused single-mindedly on her target, the four-fletched arrow leaving the string, striking Li Yu’s back dead center.
He didn’t struggle, collapsing like a cut puppet string, bottom up on the ground, motionless.
Baozhu strode over, standing beside her prey for a moment, reaching out to pull out the arrow shaft, then kicking him into a supine position with crisp, efficient movements.
This arrow was both vicious and accurate, the arrowhead deeply piercing his spine, destroying the foundation of all Li Yu’s movement. He couldn’t move his limbs or control his bowels and bladder. His crotch slowly soaked through while only his eyes still turned in terror.
“This prince is… is true dragon bloodline…” he said in extreme shock, tremblingly stating the heritage he was proud of.
Baozhu interrupted him: “Your blood has already gone bad.”
Li Yu saw her face clearly but still couldn’t believe he would die at a courtesan’s hands, stammering: “Who exactly… exactly are you…”
“I am Heaven’s mandate,” Baozhu said coldly. “You are blind to pearls.”
With that, she gripped the four-fletched arrow and forcefully stabbed it into his right eye, piercing through the eyeball before pulling it out, then stabbing into the left eye. These vicious eyes had brought her endless humiliation and pain—she wanted to completely destroy them. She used such force that the arrow shaft passed through the eye socket, deeply penetrating his brain. When pulled out, the blood-filled eyeball was skewered on the arrowhead.
Baozhu stood up holding the bloody arrow, considering finding other vital areas to continue the killing and fully vent her hatred.
“He’s already dead,” said Wei Xun, who had been waiting nearby.
Baozhu had little experience killing people, asking blankly, “Dead?”
“Completely dead. You’re far more powerful than him.”
Baozhu looked down, examining the prey on the ground. He was so fragile, not even as tough as a yellow sheep. Yet such a muddled, incompetent coward could use the same bloodline power as hers to cause so much brutality and suffering.
She suddenly felt incredibly empty. The Giant Que Heaven Bow fell to the ground, her vision darkened, and her knees slowly gave way.
Wei Xun stepped forward to gather her into his arms, feeling how much lighter she’d become. She had long reached her limit—the previous battles were merely her final burst of energy. Now with her enemy dead and the sustaining belief gone, that breath would dissipate.
“Let’s go.”
Wei Xun carried Baozhu on his back. Before completely losing consciousness, she whispered her final instruction in his ear: “Open the doors…”
Wei Xun had planned to take a straight shortcut over walls, but this was her persistent wish and surely had special intent—he must fulfill it for her. Wei Xun hesitated no more and began running at full speed, sweeping like wind through closed courtyards, twisting off iron locks from door after door.
On this night of hunting, no one in Prince Qi’s mansion could sleep peacefully. News of the master’s death spread like wildfire, quietly spreading like plague. People were in panic—guards had long left their posts with none fulfilling their duties. The imprisoned courtesans and slaves discovered all the locked doors had been opened. After hesitating briefly, they began fleeing in groups like reborn birds, urgently rushing toward the free sky.
The sun of the Eastern Capital had set.
Author’s Notes: “When will the sun perish? I shall die together with you”—from “Book of Documents: Tang’s Oath.” King Jie of Xia compared himself to the sun; the people cursed to perish together with the sun. Important reminder: After this chapter, the protagonist will completely step out of the lawful good alignment. Readers with extremely high moral requirements for characters should stop here and not continue reading.