This was a strange face that Ding Yi had never seen before, and there were no signs of disguise.

Before coming to the Sun Manor, Yuan Baozhen had mentioned that accompanying Xiao Jue was his nephew, the young master from the Right Officer’s mansion, known as the “useless young master” of Shuo Capital. It was just a casual mention without details, as none of them had anticipated that this seemingly harmless young master would disrupt their entire plan.

He couldn’t be the real Cheng Lisu. A young master raised in the luxury of Shuo Capital could never possess such fierce eyes.

Who was he? One of Xiao Jue’s subordinates? But why would Xiao Jue’s subordinate look at him with such eyes? As if they had an old grudge.

Looking at the youth before him, Ding Yi said, “Are you playing tricks here?”

He Yan smiled lightly, “Are you afraid?”

Ding Yi’s smile faded slightly, “Your stubbornness is quite unlikeable.” As he spoke, the dagger in his sleeve suddenly extended several inches, thrusting rapidly toward He Yan.

He Yan spun and leaped.

The two figures wrestled together, their shadows casting eerie silhouettes on the windows. If any servant of the Sun Manor were to pass by at this moment, they would surely believe the ghost stories.

He Yan was slightly surprised.

Back then, when she had fallen for He Rufei’s scheme, it was this person who had delivered the drugged soup that blinded her. She had always thought Ding Yi was just He Rufei’s servant. Later, upon meeting Yuan Baozhen, she learned that this person was quite skilled, but only through direct combat did she realize Ding Yi was even more formidable than she had imagined.

His martial skills far surpassed that of Ying Yue, the assassin leader from that day. Not only was he skilled, but he was also extremely cautious and conservative, never striking without absolute certainty. That’s why even during the night banquet assassination, he remained the final piece, refusing to act unless necessary. The same went for the scented ball – he would only strike when Xiao Jue was weakened by poison, ensuring a fatal blow.

Today, Ding Yi had set a trap for He Yan, assuming that no matter how exceptional a sixteen-year-old youth might be, they couldn’t be truly formidable.

This person was both arrogant and cautious – arrogant in his skills and abilities, yet cautious in ensuring absolute success in his actions.

He couldn’t be underestimated.

Ding Yi was also shocked.

He had never encountered such an opponent.

He had heard that Right Army Commander Xiao Jue was unmatched in both civil and martial arts. He very much wanted to face him in combat, but He Rufei had repeatedly warned against confrontation with Xiao Jue, forcing him to operate from the shadows, waiting for opportunities. Someone like him could never engage in honorable combat, like a rat hiding in the gutters, only able to strike from darkness. Having such martial prowess but being unable to display it openly was like wearing brocade in the night.

Ding Yi couldn’t help feeling regretful and disappointed.

This mysterious youth made him eager to fight. He wanted to defeat him honorably, then use him to scheme against Xiao Jue – that would truly demonstrate his abilities. But after just this brief exchange, he realized he had been too presumptuous.

This youth’s skills were unexpectedly formidable.

The dagger swept past He Yan’s head, and Ding Yi struck with his palm, hitting her left shoulder and forcing her back several steps, knocking over the Buddha statue on the table.

“That’s disrespectful to the Buddha,” He Yan said. “Aren’t you afraid the Bodhisattva will come for you at night?”

Ding Yi looked at her unhappily, surprised that the youth could still speak normally after taking his palm strike. He sneered, “Do you know that each Buddha here represents a dead person? You’ll soon join them.”

He Yan touched her shoulder and feigned terror: “Don’t tell ghost stories at night out of nowhere!” Even as she spoke thus, her dagger struck decisively at Ding Yi.

Ding Yi dodged, but the dagger caught his hat, knocking it to the ground.

He Yan inwardly sighed. She had left without any weapons, and this dagger was the one used for cutting venison at the Sun Manor’s night banquet. When Xiao Jue was attacked, she grabbed it in desperation to help. This meat-cutting dagger now seemed excessively ornate and impractical.

As she pondered this, Ding Yi advanced again. He Yan avoided his blade but was struck on the back by his palm, immediately tasting blood in her throat.

Although Ding Yi wielded a dagger, he preferred hand-to-hand combat. Only someone extremely confident in their abilities would fight this way.

“Taking two of my palm strikes and still standing,” Ding Yi’s eyes flickered, “you’re the first.”

He Yan swallowed the blood in her throat and smiled, “And you’re the first to strike me twice and live.”

“Sharp-tongued,” Ding Yi said as he charged forward again.

He Yan turned and fled toward the window.

Young Lady He’s body was still too frail. Perhaps it was heaven’s design – there is no absolute fairness in the world. While women’s minds might be more intricate than men’s, their bodies are destined to be weaker. Though she had been fierce and militant in her previous life, now she was just a sixteen-year-old girl who had never practiced martial arts before this spring.

Her inner strength couldn’t match Ding Yi’s.

“Trying to escape already?” Ding Yi laughed loudly, grabbing He Yan’s collar and yanking her backward. She fell into the Buddha shrine.

Incense ash scattered through the air.

“No one comes here at night,” Ding Yi smiled. “No one dares to. You can only wait for death here.”

He Yan stood up, kicked aside a Buddha statue before her, and smiled, “I’m already dead anyway.”

Her casual movement seemed strangely familiar to Ding Yi, causing him to pause momentarily.

Ding Yi was He Rufei’s subordinate and had followed him for many years. They had lived in a separate courtyard, far from Shuo Capital. In those years, He Rufei had trained Ding Yi like a death warrior. Ding Yi was excellent in martial arts, skilled in poison-making and disguise, and meticulous in thought. Even as someone’s subordinate, he was among the most outstanding.

Such abilities naturally needed to be put to use, but when they returned to Shuo Capital, Ding Yi’s first task was to concoct a blinding poison for Madam Xu, He Rufei’s cousin.

He was dissatisfied with this task at the time, not understanding why He Rufei ordered the death of this cousin. Women’s disputes were matters of the inner court – what use was there for his skills? It seemed a waste of talent, and Ding Yi felt insulted.

However, He Rufei told him, “Don’t underestimate her. Be careful not to reveal any traces.”

Ding Yi was puzzled – how formidable could a woman be? Why need such caution?

Half curious and half disdainful, Ding Yi entered the Xu household and stayed for three days.

During these three days, he discovered that Madam Xu was indeed no ordinary woman. She was extremely sensitive; sometimes when Ding Yi hid in the shadows to observe her, she would immediately sense something amiss. Several times, he nearly exposed himself.

Finally, with no choice, he had to hide in the Xu household under the identity of He Rufei’s servant. Although Madam Xu was cautious and sensitive, she trusted the He family members completely, giving him his opportunity. He still remembered when he gave that bowl of medicine to Madam Xu, she drank it all without hesitation upon hearing it was a tonic from the He family. At that moment, he felt something indescribable. Such a woman, with such skills and abilities – if they fought openly, it would take considerable effort to take her life. But when those close to her struck, just one bowl of medicine, without any effort, achieved their goal.

No wonder people say only those closest to you can truly deceive and harm you.

During those three days, Ding Yi also noticed some of Madam Xu’s small habits. For instance, when something was in her way, like fallen branches, she would casually kick them aside. Her kicks, though seemingly casual, were quite forceful – quite unladylike for someone from a noble family. Madam Xu was aware of this, so whenever she unconsciously kicked something away, she would catch herself. If no one was around, she would leave as if nothing happened. If there were others present, she would apologetically stick out her tongue in embarrassment.

When she did this, her usually calm face would show a lively spirit, as if this was her true self. Thus, even after so long, though Ding Yi could barely remember Madam Xu’s appearance, he still remembered how she would kick aside branches in her path.

And just now, when the youth before him kicked aside the Buddha statue, that movement and spirit suddenly overlapped with Ding Yi’s memory of Madam Xu.

But how could he be Madam Xu?

After drinking that bowl of medicine, Madam Xu had become blind. Ding Yi thought that was the end of it, until this spring when he heard at the He household that Madam Xu had slipped and drowned in a pond.

Ding Yi didn’t believe it was truly an accidental drowning, because when the He family, except for the Second Branch’s wife, heard this news, none showed any surprise. It seemed they had known about it beforehand.

What could make the entire He family so determined to eliminate a married daughter, not satisfied with blinding her but still wanting her life? Reflecting on it afterward, he gradually pieced together some clues.

He Rufei had lived in the separate courtyard for many years, then returned to Shuo Capital and transformed into General Fei Hong. Ding Yi had thought the He family found a replacement for He Rufei, and now that He Rufei was back, the replacement had to die. But what if that replacement was a woman?

It seemed incredible but not impossible. Especially considering Madam Xu’s alertness and martial skills, which were far beyond an ordinary woman’s capabilities. Particularly after hearing that even after being blinded, Madam Xu hadn’t given up but tried to identify things by sound – perhaps this was what made the He family uneasy.

They needed an obedient blind person. If this blind person could still walk, move, and speak, it wasn’t reassuring enough.

The Madam Xu he had blinded might have been the renowned General Fei Hong. Whenever Ding Yi thought of this, he felt both proud and regretful. Proud that General Fei Hong, who had pacified the Western Qiang rebellion and whom many dared not approach, had fallen to someone as insignificant as him. Regretful that although he had outmaneuvered Madam Xu, it wasn’t through honorable means – just a bowl of medicine.

In the flickering lamplight, the youth’s features became blurred. He Yan’s eyes curved, “Losing focus during a fight isn’t a good habit.” Along with her words came her movement, ghost-like and swift, instantly appearing before Ding Yi.

With a “swoosh,” the dagger sliced across his sleeve, leaving a bloody gash – He Yan had wounded his arm.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Excitement flashed in Ding Yi’s eyes, along with some disdain. This youth certainly wasn’t General Fei Hong. General Fei Hong… was more capable than this.

He dismissively tore off the loose sleeve piece and smiled at He Yan: “Whether you’re human or ghost, today is your end!”

He rushed fiercely toward He Yan.

The room was originally quite spacious, but with Buddha statues everywhere, it seemed narrow and cramped. Ding Yi had practiced martial arts since childhood, possessed deep inner strength, and employed treacherous methods – otherwise, he couldn’t have become He Rufei’s confidant. After exchanging four or five moves with him, He Yan’s struck areas were covered in wounds, the worst being her back where Ding Yi’s blade had cut her.

The window was right there, yet escape was difficult. She was grabbed and thrown to the ground. Ding Yi gripped her head, looking at her puzzled: “Who exactly are you?”

“Who do you think I am?” Blood trickled from the youth’s lips, yet his expression remained carefree, as if immune to pain, his smile unchanged.

For a moment, Ding Yi thought of Madam Xu again. This association displeased him, and his hand gripping He Yan’s neck tightened. He said, “If you don’t tell me who you are, I’ll kill you and bury you under this floor. With all these deities and talismans around, you’ll never achieve salvation. So,” he said softly, coaxingly, “who exactly are you?”

This youth’s skills were already excellent, and something about them seemed familiar. Ding Yi didn’t want to brush past the truth.

But He Yan laughed at his words, coughing blood as she did so, saying between laughs, “Haven’t I already told you? Since I’m an evil ghost who crawled out of the underworld, I care nothing for salvation. Besides, if even I can come and go freely, these talismans and Buddha statues are just clay and paper, nothing real. Are you so easily fooled? Does your master He Rufei know this?”

He knew about He Rufei. Ding Yi froze, his expression suddenly changing: “What else do you know?” He instinctively reached behind him but found nothing.

The youth’s face was still before him, rippling with smiles. Ding Yi sensed something wrong and thrust his dagger forward, but the youth seemed to suddenly awaken, lightly withdrawing and escaping his control.

She held a small plum blossom dart, leaning against the Buddha shrine and toying with it, saying, “So this is your trump card? Hidden in your clothes – if I hadn’t taken so many hits, I wouldn’t have found it.”

Ding Yi’s face instantly darkened: “You were playing me?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” the youth smiled sweetly, “but I can’t fall for the same person’s trick twice, can I? I came prepared. It’s not your fault – you hid it extremely well.”

In her previous life, this person had delivered a bowl of medicine that blinded her. In this life, meeting him again, that cup of wine at the night banquet had seemed suspicious. In Yuan Baozhen’s room, Ding Yi had even switched her scented ball. Only someone who frequently used poison would carry so many lethal items.

With this preconception, she paid special attention to him. Ding Yi’s fingertips were blackened as if long soaked in medicinal water, and the skin cracked. These were a poisoner’s hands. Combined with the previous assassins’ intentions, this person likely specialized in underhanded methods, carrying poisoned hidden weapons. The dagger was just a distraction – the real killing weapon was this poisoned plum blossom dart.

Close combat with him wasn’t difficult – the challenge was that if cornered, he might use his trump card, resulting in severe injury or death. He Yan dared not gamble with her life.

She observed that Ding Yi was quite arrogant. Though armed with a dagger, he preferred fighting bare-handed, confident in his superior skills. So He Yan deliberately showed weaknesses, pretending to tire, acting like an ordinarily skilled but slightly inferior youth. Sure enough, within moments, Ding Yi began to underestimate her.

And she successfully stole his “trump card.”

Ding Yi said viciously: “I must kill you.”

“Do you think you still have that chance?” He Yan snapped her fingers: “Now it’s your turn to take the beating.”

The two figures clashed – the youth who had appeared weaker in inner strength had indeed been pretending. Her movements were faster and fiercer. In moments, she kicked away Ding Yi’s dagger, ducked under his palm, and without looking back, thrust backward, stabbing Ding Yi in the waist.

“You…” he stared in disbelief.

He Yan kicked at his knee, bringing him to his knees. She grabbed his hair and said, “Now it’s my turn to ask questions.”

“Why does He Rufei want to kill Xiao Jue? Are you working for Minister Xu? What benefits did Minister Xu promise you? What exactly does He Rufei want to do?”

She spoke quickly and urgently. Ding Yi paused, then slowly smiled.

“I won’t tell,” he said. “If I do, you’ll kill me immediately. Why don’t you try and see what methods you have to make me talk?”

His smile was almost roguish.

He Yan had seen this expression many times before – it wasn’t unfamiliar. When she was in the Fu Yue Army, whenever they captured enemy soldiers, some would quickly surrender and betray, while others were death warriors who would rather die than speak. No matter what interrogation methods were used, they wouldn’t talk. In the end, it would only frustrate the interrogators.

The expression on Ding Yi’s face was that of someone who “couldn’t care less about boiling water.” His words sounded nice, not completely refusing, seemingly leaving a way out, but he was actually toying with He Yan. An ordinary person might be fooled, might spare his life, and later his allies would have a chance to rescue him.

But He Yan wasn’t ordinary, nor would she fall for such tricks.

She looked at Ding Yi and suddenly said, “You kept asking who I am – who did you remember?”

Ding Yi’s expression suddenly changed as he stared at her face without speaking.

“Don’t you find it strange? We’ve only met a few times, yet how did I know about the poisoned weapon hidden on you, preparing to guard against it? At the night banquet, I warned about that wine – how did I know?”

Ding Yi sneered: “Stop playing tricks. If you have the ability, just kill me.”

“If I had no grudge against you, I certainly wouldn’t kill you. But what use is keeping you alive? I’m only alive for revenge.”

“Let all heaven’s deities bear witness – I haven’t lied.” He Yan chuckled, and as if to match this eerie atmosphere, suddenly thunder crashed in the autumn night. Lightning illuminated the room, the benevolent-faced Buddha statues watching them as if completing a karmic cycle from years ago.

“You once fed a bowl of medicine to a woman, and that woman went blind,” the youth spoke softly.

“Guess whether I am that woman.” She smiled.

Ding Yi struggled: “You are…”

Midway through his words, his eyes suddenly widened, blood trickling from his lips, the light in his eyes rapidly fading.

The plum blossom dart had pierced his throat deeply – in moments, he breathed his last.

He Yan stood up, looking at the person at her feet. Ding Yi’s corpse lay among the gleaming Buddha statues, as if in mockery. She said softly, “Now it’s your turn to die here – see if you can achieve salvation.”

She turned and walked out.

Ding Yi couldn’t be spared. She had nowhere to hide such a person, and if Xiao Jue found out and asked how she knew about the He family’s affairs, He Yan couldn’t explain. Since he was a death warrior unwilling to reveal secrets, keeping him alive was meaningless. Moreover, this person had committed many evil deeds – his death was deserved.

Dying here was his best ending. Given the rumors of ghosts in this courtyard, it would likely be days before his body was discovered.

Outside, thunder rolled continuously and autumn rain fell. He Yan stumbled toward her quarters.

Though she had used herself as bait to make Ding Yi lower his guard, she had indeed sustained many injuries. Her current body wasn’t like her previous life’s, and Ding Yi was no ordinary opponent – perhaps she had underestimated He Rufei’s power. The rain washed over her back wound, blood mixing with rainwater flowing into the courtyard, quickly washing away. He Yan felt her strength rapidly draining.

This was probably her most miserable state since being reborn. Fortunately, when she had left, Xiao Jue and Fei Nu weren’t there. In such a short time, they probably hadn’t returned yet. She needed to hurry back, change clothes, and pretend nothing had happened.

The room was right before her eyes. He Yan jumped through the window, seeing the room pitch black and empty, finally sighing in relief.

She muttered softly, “Fortunately, I wasn’t discovered.”

As soon as she spoke, someone’s voice came:

“You’re celebrating too early.”

With a “pop,” the room suddenly brightened. He Yan froze completely.

Sitting before the middle table was a person playing with a fire starter, the lamplight flickering on the table. The person had fine eyebrows and handsome features, neat clothing, and turned his head to look at her lightly: “You’re back?”

It was Xiao Jue.

He Yan’s heart trembled, but she quickly recovered, speaking rapidly: “Uncle! This is a misunderstanding, I just discovered I could see again, I encountered an assassin outside…”

Before she could finish, the young man sitting at the table had already reached her, sword thrusting toward her chest. He Yan hurriedly raised her hands to block, but the sword tip wasn’t aimed at her life – it curved and sliced open her clothes.

“Rip—”

The blood-stained clothes fell to pieces, revealing the young woman’s pale, delicate body, with white cloth wrapped layer upon layer around her chest, like a bud waiting to bloom.

He Yan’s face instantly flushed red.

Xiao Jue encircled her from behind, his scabbard against He Yan’s neck, their breaths mingling in the tense moment.

“Caught in the act.”

He hooked the corner of his mouth, like that indolent, romantic young man in white robes under the tree years ago. His voice carried light mockery as he coldly smiled: “Should I call you He Yan, or Young Lady He?”

[Yan Yan: Call me Old Iron (。]