An Jiu stood between the two men, supporting herself with her sword, when she heard Chu Dingjiang exclaim “Sound Assassin!”
She turned to look. Within twenty feet, the mist had mysteriously receded. The red-robed figure stood against a backdrop of varying depths of fog, like a person painted in an ink-wash landscape.
The same coldness, the same arrogance, but his delicate features were entirely different from Master Mo’s.
Somehow, An Jiu felt relieved. Subconsciously, she didn’t want Mei Ruyan’s deep affection to be in vain. While Master Mo being alive might be good for Mei Ruyan, for An Jiu as an outsider, that love held more significance than Master Mo’s life itself.
“How about we wager on her?” the man called Sound Assassin said, looking at An Jiu with amusement in his voice.
Chu Dingjiang flashed to An Jiu’s side. “Compared to the previous generation, you truly disgrace the title ‘Sound Assassin.'”
Sound Assassin was a title that hadn’t existed for long, with only two generations. The first was Master Mo, and this man was the second.
Chu Dingjiang didn’t know Master Mo personally, but everyone knew of Sound Assassin’s world-disdaining arrogance. That person seemed to stand above the clouds, preferring to overwhelm targets with sheer presence, even when facing stronger opponents.
“Old friend, we’ve known each other for quite some time. Your words show such a lack of understanding, it truly saddens me!” The man chuckled, unfazed by Chu Dingjiang’s words. “Drop your protective qi barrier and endure my flute music for the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Otherwise, the Gu worm planted in her body will devour her flesh and blood.”
As he smiled, his eyes sparkled like pools of water, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. A sudden air of bewitching beauty emerged. “You see? I understand you well. I know how much you value this woman.”
A tearing pain shot through An Jiu’s arm as the two small snakes, tongues flicking, coiled around it. They moved with her pain.
Qiu Yunran wasn’t present, and An Jiu didn’t recognize these snakes, but she could guess they were interested in the Gu worm inside her body.
Chu Dingjiang remained silent, but the mist that couldn’t approach him earlier now gradually closed in from behind, making him appear as if he too was leaning against the vast fog like Sound Assassin.
“Be careful,” Sound Assassin said, raising the flute to his lips.
A whimpering sound arose. Though the melody seemed beautiful, it contained a sharp, high-pitched tone that maintained a constant pitch. An Jiu’s head throbbed, her ears stinging. The two small snakes coiled tightly together, also seeming to be in pain.
Suddenly, Chu Dingjiang pulled her into his embrace, his warm hands covering her ears. A gentle energy, like sunlight, quickly enveloped her entire body.
The sharp, high-pitched sound disappeared, leaving only the flute melody.
The snakes, no longer disturbed by the flute sound, slowly relaxed. Their attention quickly returned to the Gu worm inside An Jiu.
As the pain spread to her neck, the snake’s eyes flashed red. They bit down hard on two protrusions on either side of An Jiu’s neck, then violently tugged.
Snakes typically swallow their prey whole rather than biting off pieces. An Jiu realized they might not be able to tear out the Gu worm. She thought, “The Gu has moved from my arm upwards. If it’s not heading for my brain, it’s likely aiming for my heart or somewhere equally vital. That would be even more troublesome.” Since the snakes hadn’t bitten earlier, she hadn’t known the Gu’s exact location. Now was the perfect opportunity! With this in mind, she drew her dagger and swiftly cut away the two pieces of flesh.
Blood sprayed out like rain, drenching Chu Dingjiang’s face.
The neck, with its complex network of blood vessels, is one of the body’s most vulnerable areas. An Jiu’s two cuts were essentially life-threatening.
“What are you doing?!” Chu Dingjiang exclaimed in shock. He immediately pressed several acupoints to temporarily stop the bleeding. In that moment of distraction, the flute’s sound suddenly sharpened, piercing his ears like a blade. A trickle of blood slowly flowed from his ear.
Seeing this, An Jiu urgently said, “The Gu is gone!”
Chu Dingjiang could now only hear the piercing high-pitched sound, but he understood An Jiu’s meaning. His true qi surged, and he released An Jiu. His sword, drawn at an unknown moment, flashed as he charged towards Sound Assassin like an arrow leaving its bow.
The powerful qi wind whipped Sound Assassin’s black hair and red robes. Chu Dingjiang’s sword tip stopped an inch from his forehead, the qi slicing a cut between his brows. A drop of blood trickled down his nose bridge.
The redness at the corners of Sound Assassin’s eyes spread, eventually blooming like peach blossoms.
He retreated rapidly, the dense fog behind him surging forward. He seemed to melt into the mist.
Chu Dingjiang’s target suddenly vanished. He immediately withdrew his sword, only to find that An Jiu had also disappeared.
Though this Sound Assassin’s martial arts weren’t exceptional, and he lacked the previous generation’s powerful killing intent, his ability to repeatedly escape Chu Dingjiang proved his skill. At the very least, his escape techniques were unparalleled in the martial arts world.
“Ah Jiu?” Chu Dingjiang called out.
“I’m here,” came the reply.
Chu Dingjiang’s ears were ringing, but he still heard her. They had been less than ten feet apart originally, and he followed her voice.
“Let’s leave quickly,” An Jiu said, her face pale, one hand covering her neck, the other reaching for his hand.
A flash of cold light, and Chu Dingjiang’s sword plunged into “An Jiu’s” chest!
The fake An Jiu laughed bitterly, “What a ruthless man!”
To strike so decisively and mercilessly at the face of his beloved woman!
As the body fell, another voice called out, “Chu Dingjiang.”
This voice came from below, sounding weak but unmistakably An Jiu.
Chu Dingjiang crouched down, feeling the Dragon-Subduing Bow in An Jiu’s grasp.
An Jiu, lying on the ground, had heard someone impersonating her. She had struggled to draw her bow, ready to shoot the imposter, but Chu Dingjiang had seen through the deception himself.
Chu Dingjiang applied medicine to her neck wound and bandaged it, then lifted her onto his back.
An Jiu didn’t refuse. She rested her chin on his broad shoulder, closing her eyes to recover. The familiar warmth seeped through his clothes as she murmured, “How did you know it wasn’t me?”
If someone dared to impersonate her, they must be skilled at disguise and mimicry.
“Not even close,” Chu Dingjiang listed the reasons. “First, her every movement had a hint of softness that you don’t have. Second, her chest was noticeably larger than yours. Third, you’ve lost so much blood; I felt your weakness when I supported you earlier. You couldn’t have been in that state.”
An Jiu, being a pure external cultivator, would be weaker than those with inner power after significant blood loss. The imposters, unaware of this, had a major flaw in their imitation.
“Most importantly,” Chu Dingjiang added, “she reached out to hold my hand. You wouldn’t do that.”
The surrounding mist gradually dissipated.
An Jiu felt a breeze and opened her eyes. “Is the formation broken?”
“When I saw the mist retreat as Sound Assassin appeared, I guessed he was the formation’s core,” Chu Dingjiang explained, surveying their surroundings. The others were in rough shape; only seven of the original ten remained.
With Chu Dingjiang and the crossbow, this formation couldn’t truly trap them. Sound Assassin’s appearance was merely to delay Chu Dingjiang, allowing important people or items to be evacuated from the estate.
“Rest here briefly, then follow me as we fight our way out,” Chu Dingjiang instructed.
“Yes!” the group responded in unison.
This implied a retreat, but no one was excited. They knew that outside, an even greater challenge awaited them.