Facing the black-haired elder’s pressing questions, Gong Yin only remained silent. After a long while, his fingertip flicked lightly, the sound of placing the piece crisp and clear. “Check!”
The black-haired elder was startled, looking down at the chess board. After a long moment, he sighed deeply. “Taking advantage of weakness, surrounding the city and seizing hostages—you’ve won again… Speaking of such matters, you’re still focused on chess. In your entire life, have you never been distracted or had your mind waver?”
Gong Yin collected the chess pieces, the black and white stones falling into jade containers with crisp sounds. His voice was very light, yet especially clear amid the melodious clinking.
“Yes.”
“For whom?”
He remained silent, his fingertip caressing the smooth chess pieces, thinking of that person’s skin, which was also like these jade pieces—smooth and pure white. Today when they met, so close at hand, for that moment, he nearly dropped the ladle in his hand and reached through the steam to touch her already thin shoulders.
He lowered his eyes, faint shadows beneath his long, thick lashes.
“That woman searching for you? The one who stood beside Mingzhu earlier?” The black-haired elder’s brow carried shadows of gloom. “You should know what you truly need as the new leader of the Dragon Ying clan.”
The question received no answer. Gong Yin was unhurriedly collecting chess pieces. Long Zhai, seeing his expression, knew this conversation had ended—and it was an ending that would never yield results.
Long Zhai frowned slightly. After a year with Gong Yin, he understood what kind of person this long-separated nephew was—sufficiently resolute and sufficiently wise, planning comprehensively while remaining impassive. Otherwise, he wouldn’t feel comfortable entrusting the entire Dragon Ying clan to him. But such natural leaders were also mostly firm in resolve, not allowing others to interfere in their decisions. He had spoken about Mingzhu’s matter multiple times, and clearly Gong Yin would rather recover slowly or even never recover than accept this medicine vessel who had waited for him over twenty years.
However, the Dragon Ying clan had declined to this extent. They needed to restore their vitality, continue reproducing, and regain the glory of being the foremost clan. All this required the most powerful clan leader. Gong Yin’s stubborn refusal to accept Mingzhu affected not only him and Mingzhu, but the entire family.
If Gong Yin couldn’t recover, he couldn’t remove the poison from the entire clan. Could the Dragon Ying clan, because of his persistence and infatuation with that woman, fall into eternal hell again and become extinct?
The black-haired elder looked at Gong Yin’s calm expression, that composed demeanor containing unshakeable authority. He sighed inwardly, his gaze falling on the distance where those disciples had gone to deliver the captured hostages. However, neither they nor Gong Yin knew that he had already left a mark for Mingzhu on those young masters.
He believed that when Mingzhu learned that woman’s identity, she would understand what to do.
…
Jing Hengbo stood alone on the hillside, facing the wind.
The evening wind was moist, touching her hair with a slight coolness. The distant sky was pale blue and slightly black—tonight there would definitely be rain.
What was Gong Yin doing now? Was he with that group of people? Were they his family? For someone so untainted by worldly concerns to actually set up a stall in the marketplace was truly unimaginable.
Now with the sky overcast and rain approaching, they must have closed their stall. It should be dinner time. She imagined that perhaps in an inn or a residential house, that large family was gathered together, washing rice and cooking, sitting around the hearth. Gong Yin would sit in the middle, with the fragrant steam of food before him and relatives’ faces reddened by firelight beside him, all smiling.
Thinking this way, her aching heart seemed to find some comfort—if he didn’t have health, didn’t have her, she wished him to have family companionship as compensation.
During the days with her, he hadn’t been happy, had he? Exhausting his mind and spirit, scheming day and night, never having a single day of true ease and warmth. Now being with family might suit him better. She hoped the warmth of kinship could warm that heart riddled with holes and weathered by frost.
With this thought, that overwhelming regret and disappointment faded considerably. She’d had the impulse to reveal her identity immediately, gather all her people, and infiltrate Lin Province, searching house by house until she found him. However, she understood in her heart that if he didn’t want to see her, she wouldn’t find him.
Then let her continue walking this path. Gong Yin, I am on the road, I am walking. If you are by my side, please watch me well.
Jing Hengbo hastily finished the cold rice in her hands with a few bites. Originally she couldn’t eat, but tonight she needed physical strength.
She descended the hillside toward the camp, casually grabbing a soldier hurrying past. “It’s going to rain tonight. There might be people coming to rescue prisoners from Lin Province. Tell the captain to have everyone prepare defenses.”
Looking at the sky, she added, “There might also be Yu Kingdom troops involved. It will be a tough battle—be very careful.”
The soldier stared at her blankly with unfriendly eyes. Jing Hengbo left him and walked away—she still needed to check if armies were hidden in the surrounding areas.
That Young Master Yu she’d encountered at Lin Province market today—if she wasn’t mistaken, might be Yu Kingdom royalty.
Lin Province was a border city of Yu Kingdom where royalty rarely appeared. Considering the previously discovered Yu Kingdom support for the Yélu clan, this Young Master Yu’s purpose became quite clear.
Yu Kingdom was still technically a vassal of Di Ge. The prisoner escort convoy from Di Ge had already received passage permits, and no country or tribe could obstruct them. So even if the Yu Kingdom prince planned to help the Yélu clan rescue their eldest son, he wouldn’t act openly. There should be a secret army near Lin Province.
She left hurriedly. That soldier, because he still had duties and disliked her, didn’t rush to tell Captain Jiang Ya her words. By the time he finally had time to report, the sky had turned completely dark. Jiang Ya had already arranged the night watch as usual. Hearing that the “connected person” said someone would attack tonight, he sneered disdainfully. When he heard Yu Kingdom troops might also attack, his sneer became loud laughter.
“You’re joking, right? Saying the Yélu family will come to rescue people—I think that’s possible, though still too soon. But how would Yu Kingdom troops come? Within a hundred li radius, the terrain is treacherous. We’ve all scouted—there’s no possibility of armies, and the terrain isn’t suitable for cavalry charges or night raids. Though Lin Province is a border town, it’s still far from Yu Kingdom’s border garrison stations. The entire Lin Province only has a thousand regular troops with no signs of mobilization. Is the Yu Kingdom king crazy enough to openly oppose the Empress?”
Everyone laughed heartily while shaking their heads—that connected person spent all day in a daze, ignoring everything. After being coldly treated by everyone for so long, suddenly coming out with such nervous words—was this trying to cause alarm and draw attention?
“Ignore him.” Jiang Ya waved his hand while walking toward his tent. “This kid talks nonsense. If we really listened to him and something went wrong, making enemies with Yu Kingdom, he wouldn’t bear responsibility. We’ll stick to the old plan. Tonight everyone rests in circular formation, all soldiers divided into two shifts for first and second half of the night. Keep armor on and weapons ready. Full alert!”
…
The sky was like an inverted pot, pressing black and heavy on the earth. Except for occasional blue and purple lightning streaking across, not a trace of light was visible. Mountain peaks and trees formed layers of even darker shadows in this pitch-black night before wind and rain.
At the tops of those shadows, a figure would occasionally flash by. Due to its extreme speed, one might mistake it for merely tree tops blown by wind.
That figure was Jing Hengbo.
She had already left the station twenty li behind, entering the surrounding high mountains and steep ridges, searching for that hidden Yu Kingdom army.
This army couldn’t be cavalry, but must be elite troops skilled in concealment, which was why her team’s scouts hadn’t discovered them.
Originally she’d deliberately arranged for the team to pass through Yu Kingdom to draw out the Yélu family, intending to investigate Yélu Qi’s whereabouts. As long as she resolved the Yélu family, she didn’t want to cause trouble. But after discovering Gong Yin’s traces in Yu Kingdom and finding Yu Kingdom royalty appearing in Lin Province, her plan changed.
She wanted to take down this Yu Kingdom army, disrupt Yu Kingdom, and conveniently seize Yu Kingdom!
As long as she kept causing trouble, she didn’t believe Gong Yin could ignore it and run away!
Jing Hengbo wiped sweat from her face and looked up at the sky. Lightning was becoming increasingly dense—the thunderstorm was about to fall.
Using her teleportation ability, she’d already covered the foothills of the three mountains most likely to harbor armies around the camp at maximum speed. This area now was the largest region. She needed to find that army before the rain started and inflict maximum damage. Once heavy rain poured down, visibility would be even lower.
In the darkness, mountain terrain appeared shadowy. All scenery reflected dim light under lightning and skylight. Grass swayed, rocks appeared iron-blue, seeming to hide countless phantoms.
Jing Hengbo felt somewhat anxious.
She had to find this army first and attack to disrupt their plans, then rush back to camp lest it be broken by the Yélu clan. If she couldn’t find this army within an hour, there wouldn’t be enough time.
Before her stretched an entire narrow valley. If she hadn’t guessed wrong, eight or nine times out of ten, the Yu Kingdom army was ambushed here. But the canyon had three exits, stretching twenty li front to back. How could she instantly locate and strike them?
“Crash!” A tearing sound rang out, as if the firmament had been ripped open, exposing a line of pale flesh. Bean-sized raindrops began pattering down. Wind swept sideways with wild rain, pulling grass and trees into long lines.
Raindrops stung her face. Jing Hengbo suddenly leaped up, waving both hands continuously during her flash movement. A series of fine, rapid sounds followed. Wherever she passed, before, behind, left and right, all small mountain stones instantly floated up, swirling into the air before falling down following the rain’s momentum with clattering sounds.
As she flew through, mountain stones accompanied her flight, swirling up and falling down all the way. Stone rain accompanied the sky’s rain, heavily pounding grass, rocks, ground, and mountain cliffs.
In the grass, under stones.
Pieces of black leather-like material covered areas near mountain stones, motionless. In such weather, they looked no different from real grass and rocks.
Amid thunder and lightning, quiet conversations arose from under the leather material.
“Ouch, is it hailing? It hurts so much!”
“I think it’s hail too. How big must this hail be? It’s making my forehead swell!”
“Yeah, yeah, how can there be such big, heavy hail? If this hail keeps falling like this, can we still successfully complete the assassination mission?”
“We can’t keep getting pounded like this. Should we act now?”
“Silence!” a voice said sternly. “How can you be so impatient! Moving after just a few hail strikes—do you still deserve to be Yu Kingdom’s Wind Squadron? We must wait until the Yélu family acts first and gains the upper hand before we can move. We can’t leave any traces, or if the Empress discovers, Yu Kingdom will have great chaos! No matter how much it hurts, endure it!”
The mountain stones remained silent.
The “hail” kept falling. Stones large and small—when hitting vital spots, they could be deadly. A prone soldier suddenly heard a muffled “thud,” followed by sharp pain in his big toe.
Ten fingers connected to the heart—though he didn’t cry out, his body convulsed uncontrollably.
“Whoosh”—the black leather material flipped open halfway.
Jing Hengbo, who had already passed by, suddenly turned back, catching a glimpse of strange reflected light somewhere from the corner of her eye.
Her eyes lit up. She immediately rushed back, glanced at the particularly dense black stones below, and smiled coldly.
Finally found them.
She reached into her chest, pulling out a needle pouch filled with poisoned ox-hair fine needles. She didn’t need to learn dart-throwing techniques—her object manipulation ability could send projectiles anywhere she wanted.
“Splash splash.” Heavy rain poured down at this moment.
Jing Hengbo’s eyes glowed in the darkness, half killing intent and half excitement.
In the distance, something like fireworks seemed to light up. She glanced that way—that direction was still twenty li south of the camp. If she wasn’t mistaken, it should be Pei Shu’s team secretly following to protect her. Because they feared she’d discover them, they’d been following dozens of li behind. This was them suddenly losing her trail and inquiring with fireworks.
But now wasn’t the time to respond, and even if Pei Shu rushed over now, it would be too late.
Holding the needle pouch, looking at the completely unaware army below, she felt slightly excited and therefore didn’t lift her head to look.
Above her head, that slightly protruding cliff looked particularly thick. Now on the cliff, black skin seemed to be peeling off, but looking carefully, it was people removing the camouflaged black-green leather material from their heads and standing up.
Jing Hengbo hadn’t expected that this Yu Kingdom elite force was ambushed in two places—one in the valley, one on the mountaintop. The people in the valley couldn’t discover her and were waiting for external signals, but the people on the mountaintop could see her clearly.
A man on the mountaintop slowly stood up, his tall figure in the night, tight clothing outlining flexible body lines. A pair of hawk-like eyes locked onto Jing Hengbo. Suddenly extending his hand, an attendant immediately handed him a crossbow.
The others were pulling at their waists, where they all had moveable buckle locks and steel wires. Using the steel wires, they could climb and leap between mountains, reaching destinations at maximum speed. Yu Kingdom had many mountains, and these people moved through them like wisps of wind—wisps of wind that harvested lives, arriving suddenly with blood falling in the wind.
Hence they were called the Wind Squadron.
Those black-clothed figures shook their hands, steel wires shot out, silently sliding down the cliff in four directions—east, south, west, north—quietly closing in on Jing Hengbo halfway up the mountain.
And on that fang-like cliff peak.
The tall man slowly drew his crossbow, aiming at Jing Hengbo’s back.
…
On the cliff’s back side, another lower cliff.
Mountain wind and wild rain soaked white hemp clothing. A group of young men stood in the rain with indifferent expressions, arms crossed, looking up at the lightning in the sky.
The fierce wind lifted Gong Yin’s silver-white long hair, sweeping past his eyes deep as eternal night. He seemed to be listening to sounds in the wind, or perhaps just lost in thought.
Suddenly he said, “If you don’t want to carry night soil, fine. You can have a competition. On that mountain ahead, whoever eliminates the most people without leaving traces won’t have to carry—the one who eliminates the least will do it for them.”
Several white shadows immediately shot out like lightning.
…
Rain poured down heavily.
Valley bottom soldiers remained motionless.
In the valley, Jing Hengbo raised her needle pouch.
On the valley top, black-clothed men’s crossbows creaked and groaned.
Wind and rain were heavy, covering all sounds. Valley bottom soldiers concentrated on awaiting orders, completely unaware of approaching danger. Jing Hengbo in the valley concentrated on preparing to annihilate this army, also completely unaware of the danger approaching from above.
Lightning flashed.
Countless ox-hair fine needles flew up and scattered!
The mountaintop black-clothed man released his bowstring!
“Swoosh swoosh”—sharp sounds as black-clothed men slid down steel wires like lightning! Five zhang, three zhang, two zhang, one zhang…
Lightning flashed.
In that flash, there seemed to be countless white lights flickering.
Sharp sounds pierced the air from the mountaintop. The crossbow bolt shot out with tremendous force, making cliff-edge grass dance wildly.
The tall man’s lips revealed a cold smile, then the smile froze at his mouth’s corner.
In mid-air, a white arrow suddenly shot diagonally, striking the crossbow bolt’s tip. “Clang”—white fragments scattered. That white arrow shattered into countless pieces, half blown away by rain in the air, half shooting directly at the man. The man, greatly shocked, flipped backward to avoid them. After standing steady, he couldn’t find those fragments and broken arrow, only vaguely seeing something like ice chips instantly blown away by rain and wind.
When he looked at his arrow again, it had shot askew into a crevice in the mountain wall behind Jing Hengbo. Just then thunder rumbled, covering all wind sounds and changes.
The man’s expression changed dramatically.
Meanwhile, those black-clothed men sliding down steel wires suddenly froze mid-air.
They stared wide-eyed at the steel wires trembling in darkness—somehow, the wires had turned white, covered with frost.
Frosted steel wires could no longer slide, but how could ice form in such weather?
Before they could react, they heard muffled thunder with swooshing sounds right behind them. Unable to turn easily in mid-air, they instinctively tried to dodge, but felt the surrounding temperature suddenly drop. Misty snowflakes suddenly covered their heads.
Then blood slowed, movements stiffened, bodies became sluggish, and heaven and earth froze.
In their last moment of consciousness, everyone wondered: April weather—where did snow come from?
At this very moment.
Jing Hengbo waved her hand.
Countless fine needles, accompanied by lightning, suddenly fell.
Penetrating those thin disguises, piercing those completely unprepared bodies, the paralytic drugs on the needles immediately rushed through blood vessels. Those soldiers who had been gritting their teeth and quietly ambushing could truly never rise again.
…
Thunder rumbled like war chariots, heavily rolling across the dark sky. Lightning flickered on the blue-black firmament, making mountain scenery also appear and disappear. In the flashing electric light, those black-clothed men hung stiffly on steel wires.
From far away, they looked like they were suspended in air, swaying in the electric light, eerily ghostly.
A group of white shadows silently drifted over, running back and forth on the steel wires, counting one by one, fighting over which kills belonged to whom.
No matter how people died or how they fought, not a sound was made.
Mountain wind raged and mountain rain flew. Corpses and white shadows wandered overhead.
If anyone looked up at this moment, they’d likely be scared out of half their soul.
Jing Hengbo never looked up.
The rain was too heavy, thunder too loud, heaven and earth like beating drums. Her attention was too concentrated on single-handedly subduing an army. She never imagined that in this instant, so much had happened overhead, so many people had died.
These killing opportunities—even if they’d reached her directly, she could have dodged, but it would have alerted the valley’s ambush troops, making total capture impossible.
The white-clothed people overhead untied corpses one by one and carried them up the cliff. Having failed to resolve their dispute, they prepared to fight on the cliff to decide.
Jing Hengbo finally reached the valley bottom, checking along those disguised materials.
After running a long stretch with no movement, she lifted one disguise to see a rigid body.
She breathed a long sigh of relief—done.
Suddenly she felt exhausted—running around all night, using abilities on a large scale, and finally this poisoned needle attack covering the entire valley’s soldiers involved a massive area, consuming countless energy. Now that things were resolved, she immediately stumbled, wanting nothing more than to collapse and sleep in the mud.
Wiping her face, she prepared to rest before returning, otherwise she couldn’t sustain what lay ahead. Looking around, not far away was a small mountain wall recess that could shelter from rain.
She walked over unsteadily, seeing from afar that beside the mountain wall was also a rock she could lean against, gray-blue in color, somewhat resembling the disguise materials those people had worn.
Then she laughed—truly seeing too much caused illusions. She’d checked all the soldiers under disguises down here, all subdued. Besides, any remaining ambush soldiers wouldn’t be in that position before the mountain wall.
Though very tired, when reaching the mountain wall, she still pressed that mountain stone. Rain was heavy, the stone completely wet, feeling cold to touch and very hard beneath her hand—not the soft, moving sensation of a human body.
She laughed again, amused by her own paranoia, then sat in the mountain wall recess, stretching her legs long and comfortably leaning against that rock.
When she leaned against it, her heart suddenly generated a strange feeling that vanished instantly.
Too tired—once leaning against that very comfortable stone, her eyelids couldn’t help but close, unable to resist falling asleep.
Mountain wind frantically carried rain vapor inward—a moist breath with a slight fishy smell.
Before falling asleep, she suddenly felt she had caught a completely different scent from the rain.