“Guest, guest! The excerpt play has already finished.” Voices came from the entrance of Wanfu Tower as the shopkeeper, looking terrified, bowed and scraped: “It’s very late now. Could you please not keep standing at the door? It’s quite frightening.”

Before him stood a burly man who remained silent throughout, shouldering a heavy, crude broadsword and standing rigidly at the entrance of Wanfu Tower like a door god. After a long moment, he beckoned toward the back, and two more people walked up from the street—one carrying a red-tasseled iron spear, the other wielding a precious sword.

“Found him.” The broadsword warrior turned his face sideways toward his two companions: “That fellow is upstairs. Everyone be careful.” The three men filed silently into Wanfu Tower, causing the shopkeeper to turn pale with shock: “Guests, guests! Where… where are you going?”

Before he finished speaking, another person approached from behind. The shopkeeper turned around in a daze, feeling a black shadow cover his head and face. A tall man had arrived from behind—he was almost as tall as a door panel, about sixty years old, with the silent demeanor of a Mongol. One could tell this was an external martial arts master whose skills had reached the pinnacle.

The Mongol giant removed his outer garment, carried it in his hand, and also went upstairs. The shopkeeper trembled and dared not obstruct, only able to watch helplessly as he left. After a good while, a young assistant ran over in panic: “Shopkeeper, why have another group of fierce demons arrived? What exactly is going on tonight?” The shopkeeper smiled bitterly several times: “What the hell—they’re treating our Wanfu Tower like a martial arts practice ground? You all quickly go tell Miss Qi to ask Mr. Wei to come over.”

Hearing the words “Mr. Wei,” the young assistant struck a martial arts pose and giggled: “They’re finished! Mr. Wei is really formidable—just that ghost face of his could scare people to death.” The shopkeeper sighed: “Stop babbling and go quickly.”

The young assistant disappeared in a flash, apparently going to find someone to control the situation. However, he didn’t know that these four fierce demons weren’t Wanfu Tower’s final guests of the night—there were still a hundred more people waiting to grace them with their presence.

About three hundred feet away, an eye was aimed at Wanfu Tower, taking in every movement by the fifth-floor window.

In the deep black night, a man crouched on distant roof tiles, holding a telescope and gazing intently at the distant scene. Moonlight fell on his palm, illuminating a golden ring with a faint glow. Continuous voices could be heard in his ear: “Reporting to Fourth Leader, the situation in Wanfu Tower is clear. Including assistants, there are a total of one hundred twenty-six people on all floors. Twenty-four hold official positions, and thirteen possess martial arts skills…” Just as he was speaking, the golden ring shook: “Add four more.”

Looking from the second-floor window, three uninvited guests had turned into the stairway—two young and one old. The two young ones carried a saber and spear respectively, the old one was a Taoist with a long sword, and finally there was a Mongol barbarian, barehanded, all heading toward the fifth floor. A breathing sound came to his ear, asking quietly: “Are they troublesome?”

The golden ring shook without giving instruction. Suddenly there was a harsh, piercing screech as a black shadow dove straight down from the sky—it was a message-bearing eagle. The golden ring summoned it, then untied the bamboo tube from its claws, lowered his head to read the note, and immediately shouted in a deep voice: “Iron Guards of the Nation, heed my command!” With a whooshing sound, about a hundred black shadows stood up on the roof tiles. The golden ring took a long sword and bound it to his waist, then immediately issued orders: “Seal off the streets immediately. First unit of troops, follow me into Wanfu Tower.”

With a screech, the eagle soared into the sky, and immediately light footsteps could be heard on the roof tiles. Large numbers of black-clothed figures advanced from all directions, moving directly to surround the theater building.

In the eleventh year of Zhengtong, on Lantern Festival night, the Demon Saber and Brave Sword were about to meet, and a figure from above the king would also descend.

Snow clouds drifted across the sky, covering the bright moon and colorful clouds. In the dim darkness, only a pair of chopsticks could be seen on even more distant roof tiles, with grease on them. Beside the chopsticks was an empty noodle bowl, eaten completely clean, with an empty wine bottle placed at the bowl’s edge. Next to the wine bottle, an iron foot was propped up high.

“Ah…” The owner of the iron foot seemed very bored. He yawned, propped his foot up high, then closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep again.