The faint light reflecting off the snow outside barely penetrated the hall’s darkness. An Jiu’s situation was precarious as her opponent could use internal energy to slow their breathing to near imperceptibility.
In the shadows, An Jiu slowly relaxed her bow but maintained her stance with the arrow nocked. One finger hooked the trigger of the crossbow strapped to her arm. She focused intently on sensing her opponent’s presence.
Assassins have keen instincts for danger, but this alone wasn’t enough to pinpoint the person’s exact location.
An Jiu sensed the attacker was likely within three zhang. Perhaps lacking confidence in a killing blow, they hesitated to strike.
An Jiu’s mind raced, considering possible ambush positions.
The hall had raised platforms with arhat statues on the east and west sides. If the north and south had them too, the attacker might climb onto a statue for a clear shot. If not, they’d likely use the roof beams like her.
Mei Jiu, silent until now, suddenly said, “There are no arhats on this side.”
Trusting Mei Jiu’s certainty, An Jiu didn’t question it. She shifted, exposing her shadow from behind the pillar where she’d been hiding.
In the darkness, An Jiu’s ears caught the faint whistle of something cutting through the air.
Using her momentum, she flipped onto a roof beam. As she rose, she triggered her crossbow.
Over a dozen silver needles pierced through her falling hood, embedding in the opposite pillar!
Simultaneously, a loud crash echoed inside the hall.
Sheltered by An Jiu’s mental protection, Mei Jiu felt safe. In this situation where they weren’t directly facing an enemy, she only needed to stay relaxed and avoid hindering An Jiu’s actions.
An Jiu changed positions, pushing open a narrow window in the roof and quickly slipping inside.
The interior was much darker than the outside, but not too challenging for An Jiu.
She saw someone lying on the ground and immediately fired two crossbow bolts.
Hearing a muffled groan, An Jiu hid behind the westernmost arhat statue. Only when she sensed no life signs did she emerge.
She pulled out two bolts, using the arrowheads to search the body. She found a map in their clothes and examined it in the dim light.
It was identical to Mei Tingyan’s map, completing the one in her possession! She wrapped it in a handkerchief and tucked it away.
“Did you kill him?” Mei Jiu asked, shocked.
“No,” An Jiu replied.
“But you killed him!” Mei Jiu’s voice trembled. She had seen the person take three arrows, one piercing their throat.
“If you saw it, why ask? If you don’t like it, get lost!” An Jiu said coldly.
Mei Jiu pleaded, “Can’t we find a place to hide? We just need to survive and get out, right? We don’t have to kill anyone.”
An Jiu had intended to ignore whatever Mei Jiu said. But hearing this, she couldn’t help challenging her, “So you’re saying you’ll leave your mother to fend for herself in the Crane Control Army? You don’t care anymore?”
Perhaps a similar maternal love had awakened a tiny bit of emotion deep in An Jiu’s heart, making her despise Mei Jiu’s attitude.
“I…” Mei Jiu couldn’t avoid the question. “How could I not worry about my mother!”
“So your worry is just thinking about it in your heart?” An Jiu questioned again while remaining vigilant for attacks.
Mei Jiu was speechless. She knew that without joining the Crane Control Army, worrying was all she could do. But to join, how could she avoid killing?
“The Tianxin fragments and ice crystal box help improve internal energy. I must obtain them,” An Jiu said. She was uncertain about her future, but as long as she had a goal, she would persist in achieving it.
“Can’t we just look for the items without killing anyone…” Mei Jiu’s voice was faint as if speaking to herself.
She didn’t want to become a bloodstained butcher in the future. Nor did she want to become as cold and unfeeling as An Jiu. She feared that by the time she found her mother, she might have forgotten what familial love felt like.
The fighting in the back hall had also ceased.
An Jiu caught up with the others.
Mei Tingjun watched her warily.
“It’s me,” An Jiu said.
They all sighed in relief.
“We shouldn’t linger. Let’s talk outside,” Mei Tingzhu said.
As the group left the Main Hall, Mei Tingyan asked, “How many maps do we have now?”
Mei Tingzhu extended his internal energy, sensing no one nearby, and replied, “We should have three complete sets now.”
Killing in the dark hadn’t been visually shocking, and Mei Tingzhu had done most of the killing. Mei Tingyan felt that snatching others’ maps was easy, so she enthusiastically suggested, “Then let’s go grab two more!”
Mei Tingzhu poured cold water on her excitement: “Those five people all had fourth-grade martial arts and weren’t particularly skilled with hidden weapons or poisons. Even so, if Fourteen hadn’t shot and killed three of them, do you think we would have had a chance when ambushed?”
His reminder suddenly made everyone realize that of the five ambushers, An Jiu had single-handedly dealt with more than half!
“Do you have no internal energy?” Mei Tingyan asked suspiciously.
An Jiu didn’t respond.
Mei Tingyan snorted but said nothing more.
The five of them, benefiting from the Mei family name, had traveled without anyone daring to attack rashly. They were among the first to reach the Main Hall. Earlier groups had likely already gone to search for Tianxin fragments, as the early bird catches the worm. The team that had ambushed them in the hall had incredibly bad luck. It seemed they had five identical map pieces and had hidden on this necessary path, planning to ambush lone actors before the main crowd arrived. Who would have thought they’d snatch four maps without a single one matching their fragment? In their desperation, they had risked ambushing a group.
This comparison immediately made everyone feel extremely fortunate.
Mei Tingzhu took out three maps and pieced them together. “Let’s look for this one first. It’s on the outskirts. If someone else has already taken it, we’ll go deeper and search for the item on the second map.”
No one objected.
After passing through the Main Hall, the path became increasingly narrow, eventually becoming a plank road winding around a steep mountainside.
“Be careful, this place is easy to ambush,” Mei Tingjun said, taking the lead. No matter how dangerous, this was the only way through.
Mist hung heavy in the mountains. From the front gate, the mountain had seemed low, with pagoda spires visible behind it. But from the plank road, one couldn’t see the bottom, as if it dropped for hundreds of zhang.
The protective iron chains along the plank road were thickly rusted. The wooden planks creaked underfoot.
This situation again highlighted the importance of internal energy! The four in front moved effortlessly using their lightness skills. An Jiu wasn’t struggling, but she had to worry about falling at any moment.
Feeling the swaying plank road beneath his feet, Mei Tingjun asked, “You have no internal energy at all?”
“I can feel a bit, but I don’t know how to use it,” An Jiu answered honestly.
Mei Tingjun instructed, “Concentrate your mental energy, clear your mind, feel the internal energy in your dantian, use your mental power to guide it into your limbs and body…”
An Jiu followed his words. She felt the tiny point of light in her dantian. Not knowing how to control it, she imagined it was a silkworm cocoon, drawing countless threads from it to various parts of her body.
Mei Tingjun continued, “Don’t worry about it when your body rises. When falling, use your mental power to make it float upwards.”
An Jiu tried it and felt her footsteps become slightly lighter. She focused even more on controlling her internal energy.
Mei Tingzhu, just in front of An Jiu, said, “Your internal energy is just forming. Practice like this often, and you’ll improve quickly.”
An Jiu made a sound of acknowledgment.
The group walked fairly smoothly. Just as they were about to turn a corner, they heard voices ahead.
A clear female voice said, “What should we do? It’s so wide.”
The mountain wind shaking the plank road had prevented those people from noticing anyone behind them. By the time they sensed something amiss, the Mei group of five had already approached.
The two groups faced each other, the atmosphere suddenly turning deadly.
Mountain winds whipped their cloaks. Both sides smelled blood on each other, instantly understanding that their opponents had taken lives.
Mei Tingjun first noticed the broken plank road behind them. Looking back, he saw the six-cornered tower embroidered on their clothes and said, “So it’s the Lou family.”
“The Mei family?” a woman on their side responded. Both groups simultaneously lowered their guard.
The Mei and Lou families had intermarried before. The Mei family’s old matriarch was a daughter of the Lou family. For some strange reason, they could only produce daughters. Having three sons among five branches was already rare. However, Lou family women were known for being formidable, often surpassing men.
“The plank road is broken for over two zhang,” the lead Lou woman said dejectedly.
Seeing only four of them, Mei Tingjun understood what had happened.
“Earlier, my sister tried using her lightness skill. She made it across, but the wood on the other side was too rotten to bear even a little weight. My sister…” The clear voice choked up. “My sister was in fifth grade.”
The Mei family members’ hearts sank. If even a fifth-grade cultivator couldn’t make it across, forget about Mei Tingyan and Mei Tingchun—even Mei Tingzhu might not succeed.
As everyone fell silent, a cold voice suddenly asked, “Do you have a rope?”
It was An Jiu.
“I do,” Mei Tingchun produced a thin rope.
“How’s its tensile strength? How long is it?” An Jiu asked.
“It’s made from Xuancan silk, resistant to water, fire, and blades. No one has been able to cut it yet.”
The line was thin yet strong. With enough momentum, it could easily cut flesh.
An Jiu pulled out a section, took off her cloak, and twisted the Xuancan silk into a thick rope, tying it around her waist. She kicked a nearby protruding rock, judged it sturdy enough, and tied the other end to it. Turning to Mei Tingjun, she said, “If I fall, use the rock to steady this line.”
“Are you crazy? You…” Mei Tingyan glanced at the Lou family members and bit back her words.
She had wanted to say that An Jiu had no internal energy, and jumping with just a rope was suicide.
Three zhang was too far for An Jiu to jump across, but she noticed the rock face wasn’t smooth. It had protrusions and indentations for climbing. And wasn’t climbing an essential skill for an assassin?
As a sniper, An Jiu often needed to ambush from treacherous positions. She had once climbed a seven to eight zhang cliff face carrying forty jin of guns and ammunition.
The safety measures then were much better than now, but hadn’t she managed not to fall then?
She estimated she was now carrying less than ten jin, and the climbing distance was only about two zhang.
“What are you doing?” Mei Jiu asked, terrified.
“If you don’t want to die, don’t try to control your body!” An Jiu warned.
Without waiting for Mei Jiu’s response, she began climbing the rock face.
Mei Tingjun understood what she was doing and immediately concentrated his internal energy to grip the rope tightly.
Earlier, when An Jiu had hung from the roof beam, Mei Jiu hadn’t been particularly scared. First, she couldn’t see the height, and second, the movement was almost static—she just had to maintain her position without falling. But now they had to keep moving in a dangerous situation! She could feel the fierce, cold wind blowing from below. She forced herself to relax, but couldn’t control her urge to tremble.
Snow had accumulated on some rocks, preventing fast climbing. The slightest mistake could lead to a fall. An Jiu climbed while using her mental power to suppress Mei Jiu, preventing a situation like the previous horse’s fall.
This made the previously estimated situation rapidly deteriorate. Carrying Mei Jiu was worse than carrying over forty jin of equipment. At least those were inanimate objects that wouldn’t suddenly disrupt her actions.
Halfway across, An Jiu’s clothes were soaked with sweat.
The clouds parted, revealing a sliver of moonlight. With clearer vision, An Jiu immediately chose snow-free rocks, steadily and swiftly climbing to the other side.
Standing on the planks, An Jiu carefully inspected them. The wooden boards showed signs of being cut by sharp blades, clearly not natural decay.
“It’s safe to step on,” An Jiu said, untying the rope.
She had gone first, which certainly carried risks, but also had advantages. For instance, having someone assist provided an extra layer of safety and didn’t give them a chance to abandon her.
“Let my younger sister go next,” the lead Lou woman said.
Mei Tingjun looked displeased. “I also have a younger sister who hasn’t crossed yet.”
An Jiu put on her cloak and watched coldly. Seeing them at an impasse, she considered whether to leave first, since she already had a complete map in hand.