Feng Jiu’s reaction speed gave Jian Yi a shock.

As the blade-wind bore down on him, he tapped the ground lightly with his foot and shifted in an instant.

With a crack, Feng Jiu’er’s blade drove the black-clad figure back. In the blink of an eye, her tall, pale silhouette had risen to stand on the rooftop.

Her composed face still held little expression, but her eyes were coldly fixed on Jian Yi. “Who are you? You’ve broken into my Tianji Hall in the dead of night — what is your purpose?”

Jian Yi made no answer. With a swift rasp he drew his long sword and thrust it straight at Feng Jiu’er.

The thrust seemed entirely unremarkable — even his movement didn’t appear particularly swift.

Yet just as it looked slow enough to parry, you found when you tried that the sword held a thousand shifting variations within it, sword energy already surging in from every direction.

Feng Jiu’er was genuinely shaken. This black-clad man’s lightness movement was better than hers, though not to the point of being unfathomably deep.

But his swordsmanship — it was the finest she had ever seen, among everyone she had ever encountered.

She suddenly recalled those several occasions when she had left the palace and faintly sensed a presence following behind her. Could this be the person?

In that split second of hesitation, Jian Yi’s sword was already at her face.

She brought her arm up sharply and drove the short knife outward.

But she could not see clearly where his sword was truly coming from. The sword energy struck from all directions — its brilliance so dazzling she couldn’t see through it, and could only rely on her instincts and intuition to deflect.

It was fair to say that Feng Jiu’er’s intuition was remarkably sharp.

With a resounding clang, the short knife caught the long sword. She retreated at maximum speed, feeling a faint burning sensation along her arm. Though her instinct had correctly located his sword, she had still been grazed by his sword energy.

Jian Yi had not anticipated that Feng Jiu would be able to deflect his sword. When he had struck, there had still been hesitation in his hand.

From not far away, someone came rushing swiftly forward.

Jian Yi narrowed his gaze, pivoted, and vanished into the darkness of the night.

Xue Gu came to Feng Jiu’er’s side. Seeing that Jiu’er had not suffered a critical injury, she immediately made to pursue in the direction the black-clad figure had fled.

Jiu’er called out urgently, “Don’t chase a desperate foe!”

Xue Gu looked once more in that direction. Under the night sky, the black-clad figure’s silhouette had long since vanished — even if she gave chase, she likely couldn’t catch up.

“Jiu’er, how are you? Is the injury serious?” She went to support Feng Jiu’er, and the two of them returned to the room.

Jiu’er shook her head. “It’s fine — just a surface wound. I’ll wrap it up and it’ll be fine.”

“What kind of person was it? Did you get a clear look at his face?” The black-clad man had been masked in black. By the time Xue Gu arrived, he was already gone — she hadn’t seen his face at all.

As for watching Jiu’er bandage herself now, Xue Gu found she couldn’t even help.

Jiu’er’s own bandaging technique was better than anyone else’s assistance. Her movements were practiced and neat, not hindered in the least by wrapping the wound one-handed.

Feng Jiu’er shook her head and continued wrapping her wound as she spoke. “All I know is that his swordsmanship is extraordinarily skilled — better than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“Does that mean better even than the Ninth Prince and Mu Mu?” Feng Jiu’er had seen so many people — there were truly experts everywhere one looked.

To say better than anyone she had ever seen — then this swordsmanship was genuinely matchless to a baffling degree.

Feng Jiu’er gave a nod. “Better than them. Though his lightness movement and inner strength — those should not surpass the Ninth Imperial Uncle and Mu Mu.”

Xue Gu narrowed her eyes, thought deeply for a moment, then suddenly furrowed her brow. “From what I know, a young assassin has appeared in the jianghu in recent years.”

Though Xue Gu had lived in Snowy Lotus Mountain for many years, in the half year since she had descended, she had made a thorough effort to re-acquaint herself with the affairs of the jianghu.

“Have you heard of someone called Jue Yan?” she asked.

Feng Jiu’er glanced up at her, then looked back down and continued bandaging. Her expression carried a note of gravity.

“The assassin who accepted the Kill Order, the one who came to assassinate Zhan Yuheng — Bei Mu’s foremost assassin, Jue Yan?”

Whether Jue Yan had accepted a Kill Order to assassinate Zhan Yuheng, Xue Gu wasn’t certain.

When the Crown Prince had been targeted for assassination in the imperial capital back then, Xue Gu had not yet stepped back into this jianghu.

But hearing Feng Jiu’er describe it this way now, in all likelihood it was one and the same person.

“But there’s been no word in the jianghu of any Kill Order concerning you. Why would Jue Yan come to assassinate you?”

“There’s no guarantee someone hasn’t paid for my life.” Feng Jiu’er found nothing surprising about this whatsoever.

Assassins — were they not all people who offered their services in exchange for coin? In this day and age, was there any shortage of people who wanted her dead?

“But if he truly is Jue Yan, ordinary people would not be able to afford him.”

A man spoken of as Bei Mu’s foremost assassin was no ordinary figure — no trifling sum of money could move him.

“I don’t think he intended to kill me from the start. I couldn’t feel any killing intent from him.”

This was what puzzled Feng Jiu’er most. “In fact, even when he attacked, I could feel he was holding back.”

Otherwise, relying purely on her own intuition, surviving Jue Yan’s sword with nothing more than a minor injury — the very idea was impossible to fathom.

So then — what had Bei Mu’s foremost expert come here for?

“Xue Gu, do you remember the matter I’ve mentioned to you several times before? When leaving the palace, I would occasionally sense someone following behind me.”

“You think the one following you was Jue Yan?” But an assassin who didn’t kill, who only trailed someone — what was the reason for that?

“I can’t be certain, but I can’t rule it out.” That feeling of being watched — just like tonight.

Still, tonight Jue Yan had grown careless, disturbing the roof tile, which had made her notice him at once.

On those earlier occasions, he had neither acted nor drawn too close, so it had still taken her intuition to sense someone behind her.

“He… could he actually be living inside the palace?” Otherwise, why did she always feel his presence at the very moment she had just left the palace?

But how could an assassin be living in the palace?

“Could it be that he still intends to assassinate the Crown Prince?” Feng Jiu’er’s heart clenched. Whatever else might be said, she and Zhan Yuheng were at least acquaintances. If Zhan Yuheng were assassinated, she would not be able to bear it.

“I don’t think so.” Xue Gu shook her head. “If he truly has been living in the palace all this time, having gone undetected for this long — would he have had no opportunity to assassinate the Crown Prince?”

And yet, to this day, the Crown Prince was still perfectly alive.

That meant Jue Yan’s reason for remaining in the palace was not that.

Feng Jiu’er genuinely could not work it out. If not for that — could it be that Jue Yan knew someone in the palace?

Who? That veiled lady of mysterious identity?

But if the Veiled Lady had wished to kill her — back in the Li Courtyard, when her leg had healed, she could have acted directly then and there. There was no need to make use of another person.

The person Jue Yan knew in the palace was not the Veiled Lady. Then — who on earth was it?