The night sky was dyed a deep, smothering red by the fire’s light. A strange smell drifted through the air — as if blood-filth that had been buried underground for many years had been exposed to the light of day: rank, putrid, and decayed.

Lin Sui’an quickly realized that this fire was aimed at Xu Baishui — someone wanted to silence him.

Hua Yitang: “Mu Xia — get the horses ready!”

The elusive Mu Xia popped his head around a corner and responded at once. Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang rushed out in haste. Jin Ruo was greatly alarmed. “I’m coming too!”

Lin Sui’an: “Jin Ruo, you stay here.”

Hua Yitang: “If this is a ploy to lure us away from home, the Hua Residence is counting on you.”

Jin Ruo’s expression tightened. “Understood!”

Two tall, fine horses were waiting outside the gate. Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang swung into the saddles and spurred their horses forward into the lanes of the ward.

The Hua Clan’s Eight Residences were located in Taiping Ward, only one street away from the Prefecture Offices. By the time they reached the ward gate, they could already feel the scorching waves of heat; the fire was even larger than they had imagined. Both Taiping Ward and Xinglü Ward had been affected by the blaze. Chief Constable Gu led the constables and agents in an urgent effort to calm and evacuate the residents of both wards.

The fire soldiers of the “Wu Hou Posts” — the Tang Kingdom’s fire brigade — came sprinting toward the blaze in the opposite direction of the crowd, carrying their “splash tubes” (pressure water guns of a kind) and water bags. As they ran, they called out a special chant; with each chant, the fire soldiers rapidly divided into groups and dispersed into the various alleys and streets. The largest group charged straight into the Prefecture Offices.

Constable Gu caught sight of Hua Yitang and roared across the crowd: “Adjutant Hua, Prefect Jia has taken men in to fight the fire — you should—”

The rest of his words were swallowed up by the crowd and the chaos. The streets were too full and too frantic; Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang made a swift decision, abandoned their horses, and followed the fire soldiers in a headlong rush through the Prefecture Offices’ main gate. Fires had broken out in the southeast, northeast, and southwest corners of the compound. By the look of the blaze, the southwest corner was the worst.

In the southwest stood the Prefect’s study, the document storage vaults, and the offices of the six bureaus — the nerve center of the entire Prefecture’s operations. The shouts and screams were loudest there, the shadows of people most numerous; the fire soldiers flung themselves toward that section without a moment’s hesitation.

Lin Sui’an and Hua Yitang, meanwhile, ran in the opposite direction — toward the northeast, where the prison was. It was a secluded area; along the way they encountered a number of jailers dragging soot-faced prisoners outward in flight. They asked everyone they passed — none had seen the Four Saints or Xu Baishui. The further they ran, the fewer people they encountered, until they reached the prison gate, which was completely deserted. The entire prison was engulfed in blazing, roaring flames; the heat waves were so fierce they made the eyeballs ache.

Lin Sui’an’s heart hammered wildly. Hua Yitang’s face was lit a deathly pale by the firelight. In a conflagration this size, no one could possibly have survived.

“Perhaps they managed to escape early.” Hua Yitang said quickly.

Lin Sui’an: “If they did, they would certainly head back to the Hua Residence—”

Suddenly — clang — several black glints plummeted from above. Lin Sui’an’s left hand seized Hua Yitang and flung him behind her; her right hand drew Qian Jing from its scabbard and swept it in a dazzling arc of blade-light. A rapid succession of metallic rings rang out — ding ding ding ding — and seven broadswords were sent flying more than a meter away. Behind the broadswords stood seven black-clad, masked figures, with a ghostly, eerie gleam in their eyes — like predatory beasts.

Each of the broadswords in their hands was four feet long and three fingers wide, the black blades glinting with cold light. In that brief exchange of blows, Lin Sui’an’s arm had gone faintly numb: these black-clad figures’ swords looked remarkably similar to Gong Feiyang’s, and even their physical strength was comparable.

Lin Sui’an said quietly to Hua Yitang: “Stay behind me. Take any chance you get to run.”

Hua Yitang gripped Lin Sui’an’s sleeve and nodded frantically.

The seven on the opposite side launched a coordinated assault — attacking from six directions at once: above, below, left, right, front, and back. Blade light split the air, bringing gales and killing intent. Lin Sui’an’s heart sank: these people were faster than she had expected. There was no time to think. She dropped her waist and bent her legs, pressed down on Hua Yitang’s shoulder with her left palm, and swept Qian Jing upward in a reverse slash — swish — a line of blood; she flowed into a circular motion, swinging the blade diagonally downward — crack — severing one person’s leg bone; she shook her shoulder, shifted her stance, and thrust Qian Jing forward — thud, thud — slicing clean through two people’s arm tendons.

A chill crept up the back of her neck; two fierce gusts of wind bore down on her nape simultaneously. Lin Sui’an didn’t look back — she pressed down on Hua Yitang’s half-raised head with her free hand and swept Qian Jing in a circle around her neck — ding ding — two impacts deflected the attacks. Another blade-flash grazed her temple; Lin Sui’an tilted her head to dodge, her whole body seeming to lose balance and tip toward the ground. In the suspended instant before she hit, Qian Jing left her hand and spun through the air — thud, thud — two black-clad figures toppled. She slapped a palm against the ground, vaulted, and flew a kick — smack — sending the last figure spinning away. She landed, caught the returning blade, and flicked the blood from Qian Jing.

Three breaths of time — five moves — seven people down. Hua Yitang had only dipped his head twice; his eyes had barely had time to blur. When he looked up again, all seven black-clad figures were on the ground, and Lin Sui’an was standing solidly before him, Qian Jing’s blade-light flickering.

Hua Yitang was just about to applaud — when suddenly, all seven fallen figures rose stiffly back to their feet, their bodies lurching at odd angles, their legs grotesquely twisted. They raised their blades. Speaking in unison, one word at a time, they said: “These two — must die.”

Hua Yitang: “Hey — hey — hey — they’re like seven copies of Gong Feiyang!”

“They might be even harder to deal with than Gong Feiyang.” Lin Sui’an pointed to one of the black-clad figures — his sleeve had been sheared away during the exchange, revealing a tattoo on the shoulder in the shape of a feather. “The Golden Feather Guard of the Jiang Family of Taiyuan?!”

Lin Sui’an: “Care to guess who is directing them from the shadows today?”

“The only person capable of tempering the Golden Feather Guard — the pride of the Jiang Family — into something like the ‘one who breaks armies’ would be none other than Jiang Wende. But Jiang Wende is far away in the Eastern Capital — his arm isn’t long enough to reach here. The person who could act in place of Jiang Wende in commanding the Golden Feather Guard, who could use the chaos to draw away all the constables and agents, and who also knows the Qin Family Army’s military marching song—” Hua Yitang gave a cold laugh. “Why, that would naturally be our dear Prefect Jia!”

The night wind dispersed Hua Yitang’s voice. From the shadows beyond the firelight came a faint rustling. The boundless darkness slowly crept along the ground and expanded — ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty… over forty black-clad figures emerged from the dark, the fire’s light spreading through their vacant eyes and turning into an eerie water-blue.

Lin Sui’an sighed: it seems that tonight the Jiang Family and Prefect Jia have put everything they have into this!

The wind of blades surged up without warning; blue pupils flickered; killing intent rushed forward like an ocean wave. In the split second before the assault, Lin Sui’an suddenly spun around, seized Hua Yitang by the waistband, and whirled him around in one full sweep — Hua Yitang went flying through the air like a discus, screaming at the top of his lungs, and slapped hard against the trunk of a large, leafy old pagoda tree. He grabbed the trunk with all four limbs, slid down roughly two feet, and came to rest sitting on a branch fork.

“Lin Sui’an, what are you doing?!” Hua Yitang bellowed in fury.

“Stay put up there like a good boy, and don’t get in the way!” Lin Sui’an’s blade-light shifted; she plunged into the enemy formation. In an instant, sword-light blazed like lightning and blood-light flooded the sky.

At the same time — the Hua Residence.

Jin Ruo led Yita and the Hua Residence’s household guards in beating back the third wave of black-clad attackers at the main gate. He reflected grimly that the Hua fellow really was a walking bad omen — barely out the door and already there were villains sneaking in to ambush the place. He had already sent up an emergency signal flare for reinforcements, but the Jingmen branch had only just been reorganized; the main station was in Changle Ward in the south of the city, and with the curfew in effect, reinforcements would take at least a quarter of an hour to arrive.

The one consolation was that the black-clad attackers seemed to be not quite right in the head — their attack method was simple and brutish. To borrow Lin Sui’an’s phrasing: they were all failed products of the ‘army-breaker’ conditioning. So far, Jin Ruo and the Hua Residence’s guards had managed to hold.

Very soon the fourth wave began — this time with even greater numbers, nearly fifty people. Jin Ruo switched his blade to tuck under his arm and wiped away the blood on it, then let out a great shout: “Brothers, with me — charge!”

The Hua Family household guards were no pushovers either; they drew their weapons and charged to meet the attack. Both sides tumbled once more into a melee. But the Hua Residence’s defenders had already been through three rounds of fighting; their stamina was nearly exhausted. They were gradually falling to the disadvantage, held up only by Jin Ruo’s individual effort. In truth, Jin Ruo was close to the end of his rope as well, but he was the pillar everyone was rallying around — flagging or not, he had to hold on through sheer stubbornness.

Jin Ruo was lamenting inwardly: so this is the crushing pressure Shifu feels every time she saves the day at the last moment.

A black-clad figure broke through the defense and brought a vicious hack down on him. Jin Ruo’s technique had grown sloppy, and it looked as though he was about to take the blow — when, at that very instant, a broadsword fell from the heavens and intercepted the strike for him. Azure Dragon and White Tiger came whirling into the battle like twin storms; everyone’s spirits surged with a great shout as they pushed back and reclaimed the upper hand.

Black Tortoise came rushing into the main hall with an unconscious Xu Baishui across his back; Vermilion Bird called for Fangke.

Xu Baishui’s face was the color of gold foil; he gasped like a fish out of water, mouth gaping in labored breaths. Fangke administered several needles — to no effect whatsoever.

Vermilion Bird was the most articulate of the Four Saints, and at top speed reported: “Prison caught fire suddenly. We rushed in. He was already like this. Saved him and came here as fast as possible. What now?”

Fangke: “He’s been poisoned.”

Black Tortoise: “Can he be saved?”

Fangke quickly inserted several more needles, then produced a porcelain vial and poured medicine into Xu Baishui’s mouth. Xu Baishui’s throat convulsed — he vomited everything back up, medicine and blood together. He drew a few labored breaths; blood poured from all seven orifices. His eyes bulged and went still. He was dead.

Fangke clenched his jaw. “He was force-fed a large amount of heartbreak grass juice. Not even a god could save him now.”

Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise’s faces went dark.

The battle on Jin Ruo’s side entered a grinding deadlock. The black-clad attackers seemed to be employing some formation — fifty people produced the encircling effect of over a hundred. Vermilion Bird and Black Tortoise joined the fight as well, but even so, it had little effect.

Fangke observed for a moment, and his expression shifted. “It’s the Nine-Palace Black Tortoise Formation from the Yun Shui River!”

Mu Xia: “Yes, yes, yes — it really does look like it!”

Yita threw a punch and said: “Hua the Fourth — can break formations.”

Jin Ruo swung his blade twice in rapid succession. “Hua the Fourth isn’t here today. Fangke — why don’t you try?”

Fangke’s face was impassive. “I have absolutely no expertise in formations.”

“Then what are we supposed to do?!” Mu Xia was nearly in tears.

“Mu Xia — get the gold leaf.” Fangke hoisted his robe and ran toward the inner compound. “The rest of you, follow me!”

That one shout left everyone thoroughly bewildered. But Mu Xia had the most decisive initiative; he immediately called for people to carry two large chests of gold leaf and follow Fangke sprinting to the north side of the inner compound.

The Hua Residence covered an enormous area — one property occupied nearly the entire Taiping Ward. The main gate, which faced the direction of the Prefecture Offices, was already blocked; but at the rear of the compound, the north courtyard backed up against the ward wall, with Tongyi Ward on the other side.

Fangke picked up a bag of gold leaf, climbed the wall using all four limbs, and once he reached the top, swung the bag over into Tongyi Ward, shouting at the top of his voice: “Bandits have broken into the Hua Residence! All who help capture the bandits will receive one hundred gold pieces!”

The servants and maids behind him followed his example, climbing the wall and hurling gold leaf bags in wide arcs, calling out in a thunderous chorus: “Bandits have broken into the Hua Residence! Come catch bandits and receive one hundred gold pieces!”

Immediately, lights blazed on all throughout Tongyi Ward. Residents threw open their doors to look — and were overcome with surprise and delight. Word spread from one to ten, ten to a hundred; people came grabbing hoes, shoulder poles, iron spades, and axes, clambering over the ward wall. Under Fangke’s direction, they set up wooden ladders, scaled the walls, entered the inner courtyard — goodness, a surging crowd of at least a hundred people, led by Mu Xia and Fangke, came pouring toward the main gate. “The ones in black with their faces covered are the audacious bandits — everyone charge together! Gold pieces for everyone!”

Almost simultaneously, a bright red signal flare shot up from the northwest — Heaven’s Pivot had arrived at the head of the Jingmen disciples.

Jin Ruo’s spirits soared. He threw his arm up in a battle cry; a hundred-strong army attacked from front and rear simultaneously, and whatever Nine-Palace Black Tortoise Formation it had been was smashed to powder in an instant.

Fangke perched on top of the wall, his gaze fixed on the smoke and flames of the Prefecture Offices:

Those two should be all right… right?

Side Story

Mu Xia: Fangke’s move of “throwing gold to the winds” is truly the genuine inheritance of Hua the Fourth’s teachings!