The darkness felt as if wind and rain were stirring within it. It was already past midnight, and some of the wards and markets of Jiangning City remained restless with noise.

“…Quick, quick, close the door and let’s go…”

“…Don’t take anything too heavy…”

“…Just lock the doors and windows, that’ll do…”

“…Dog, you bastard, what are you dawdling for, we’re only waiting on you!”

Lu Xian walked through the crowd, and seeing Li Duanwu at the head of the group, waved his hand. “Let’s go, let’s go,” he said.

Li Duanwu waved a hand broadly, urging the group forward, then came closer. “Can we even get out at a time like this?”

“Let’s try,” Lu Xian said in a low voice. “He Fu’s asking twelve hundred taels… no guarantee we’ll get out, but we have to try.”

“…And he still has the nerve to squeeze money out of people at a time like this?”

“They say guarding this gate cost him upward of ten thousand taels. If he doesn’t cash in now, when will he?”

Lu Xian smiled faintly.

That afternoon, on the twenty-first of the ninth month, He Wen had declared his stance at the Fairness Party conference, and the five factions had split. By nightfall, the main lines and senior leadership of the Fairness Party’s five factions were already meeting at their respective bases to discuss countermeasures. Once the broad strategy was settled, each faction’s various branches gathered separately as well, dividing up tasks.

As a mid-level enforcer under “King Yanluo’s” “Heaven’s Killer” faction, Lu Xian had already sensed plenty of warning signs the moment he was summoned to the meeting, and immediately had Li Duanwu go gather their people. By close to midnight, once his meeting had ended and his assignment taken, he rushed straight back to the ward where his friends and family had gathered, telling everyone to pack up and prepare to leave the city.

Lu Xian was quick to react and decisive by nature, and having already made contact with He Fu at the meeting, he’d immediately decided to pay to escape the danger.

Many others in the city hadn’t yet been able to make such a decision. This included Lu Xian himself, who had originally led the able-bodied men of Li Family Village into Jiangning chasing the great prospect of joining forces with the Fairness Party. Most of their hard-earned gold and silver, won at the edge of a blade, had been sunk into this venture, and they’d assumed that once the realm was pacified, they’d become city folk for good. But as a longtime frontline enforcer, Lu Xian, even amid his shock and confusion over today’s events, had already sensed the terrifying stillness before a tsunami struck.

He’d inherited Li Duanwu’s mantle, though he wasn’t originally a resident of Li Family Village himself. That he could make such a decision in such a short time, and that Li Duanwu and the others responded so swiftly and cooperated with him, packing their simple but valuable belongings and setting out under cover of night, was proof enough of the standing he held among them.

But some major disturbances in the darkness had already begun to appear.

Ever since the assassination attempt on the Fairness King He Wen near midnight in the northern part of the city, signal flares had risen again and again across the city from time to time, marking new outbreaks of fighting here and there.

This first wave of unrest had mainly broken out between the Fairness King He Wen and the Equality King Shi Baofeng. This was because, after the afternoon conference ended, Shi Baofeng had been targeted by an assassination attempt from study society members, and the Equality King’s side attributed this attempt to He Wen’s instigation. And the near-midnight assassination attempt on He Wen seemed, quite naturally, to be attributed right back to Shi Baofeng. Military Sage Lin Jiaojiu, under the pretext of hunting down the culprits, led his men through two streets belonging to Shi Baofeng’s territory, and the northern part of the city descended into chaos as a result.

As Lu Xian and Li Duanwu roused the able-bodied men of Li Family Village to grab their weapons and escort the group southward through the city, they occasionally spotted other small groups also carrying their bundles, hurrying to flee the city. Some of them they recognized, exchanging greetings and sharing information, though when it came to the route out of the city, opinions varied, since “the various kings are quite likely to leave Jiangning before dawn.”

This was very probably true. Although the top five leaders hadn’t publicly declared their split yet, their private resolve to oppose one another had basically taken shape. Before tomorrow’s great clash erupted, Jiangning City, small as it was, had already grown far too cramped for the five men who controlled all the power in Jiangnan.

If the five kings were also planning to leave the city, it clearly wasn’t wise for ordinary people fleeing to compete with them for the road. But at this point, the group that had already set out couldn’t very well turn back either.

Past the middle of the hour of Chou, the night had grown deep, and the fleeing group had drawn near Boxin Gate at the southern end of the city. Two long streets still separated them from the gate itself, but the mouth of the street was already blocked off by guards. Torches of every kind gathered in the darkness, crowds pressing together. Lu Xian went ahead to inquire, only to learn that while the city gate itself was indeed controlled by He Fu, the street leading to it was, at this moment, under the control of a man nicknamed “Loyal Heart General” Yao Bingzhi.

This Yao Bingzhi belonged to the “Wheel-Turning King” faction — in short, during the recent brawling, his side had claimed this street.

Both sides were mid-level figures from their respective factions, and having no personal grudges from before, there was no great friction between them now. What’s more, according to rumors circulating through the wards, it was now “Heaven’s Height, Wheel-Turning, Equality, and Yanluo” — the four kings — banding together against the Fairness King, and who knew, they might even end up comrades-in-arms someday… Lu Xian went over and gave his name, and the burly, bearded Yao Bingzhi came out to meet him, speaking bluntly: he wanted money.

“…You’ve got close to two hundred people here, young and old combined — ten taels a life isn’t too much to ask, is it?”

“…He Fu’s only asking three taels a head over there. You’re squeezing in here and charging ten a head — I’ve got to pay you on top of that. Is that not too much? Let’s be straightforward — I’ll give you six hundred, and we’ll call it a favor between us.”

“…Six hundred won’t do — breaks the rules. Tell you what, go back and think it over… better decide quick, there’s a lot of people here, might not get to go if you wait too long.”

“…You know there are a lot of people here — I’ve got close to two hundred myself. Fine then, I’ll just plant myself here and block the road for you. If we don’t go, nobody goes.”

“…You wouldn’t dare — don’t you know whose turf this is!”

“…Every man standing here would risk his life for me. I do work for Heaven’s Killer — go ask around if I’d dare. When it’s my turn, I’ll get through. Favor or feud, Brother Yao, it’s your call.”

Both men were ruthless characters who’d made their living at the edge of a blade, and their exchange carried an intimidating, bloody edge even in words alone. After this brief standoff, Yao Bingzhi broke into a laugh. “Fine, you’re quite something. Lu Xian, is it? I, Yao, will call you brother — may we prosper together in the future!”

He controlled an important checkpoint, and with business pressing, he didn’t have time to keep haggling with Lu Xian. Having settled this deal, he turned to move on to the next one. Lu Xian called after him, “Can you let my people go through first?”

The man waved a hand. “Look at how packed this street is — even if I let you through, you couldn’t get through. Better to queue up, it’s faster that way.”

“Then let me go ahead to see He Fu first.”

“Go on yourself,” the man said generously.

With Yao Bingzhi’s permission to pass, Lu Xian made his way swiftly over rooftops and across the long street. Along the way, he could see that the groups moving toward the city gate weren’t moving too slowly. When he found He Fu, he tried to haggle over the price, but this time there was no budging it at all.

“If it’s too expensive, don’t bother coming. If it weren’t for that Yao fellow cutting himself in, I’d have raised the price already. This is a one-time deal — hurry up and bring your people over.”

These were the petty dealings of the deep night.

With both checkpoints settled, Lu Xian finally made his way back and led his group through the first checkpoint. Once past it, everyone pressed forward along the crowded street. By now it was the transition between the hours of Chou and Yin, the deepest part of the night, and disturbances could still be heard far off in the city. Lu Xian walked along the road, hemmed in by reinforced houses on either side, his thoughts uneasy — he was a man who got things done, and he worried that if anyone caused trouble in an environment like this, things could get seriously out of hand.

Halfway down the long street, someone suddenly pushed through the crowd toward them. Leading the way was a deputy under He Fu’s command, and behind him came a tall, sinister-looking figure — this was He Shuangying, a guard who served alongside “Heaven’s Killer” Wei Xuwen, a man of considerable martial skill and brutal temperament. Lu Xian frowned, his heart sinking.

Sure enough, He Fu’s deputy came all the way over and cupped his hands toward Lu Xian. “General He says… Deputy General Lu, you… there’s no way through for you now. Truly sorry.”

Lu Xian pointed behind him. “My people… they’re all here. How am I supposed to get them back?”

“This… General He didn’t want this either, but…” The deputy gestured toward He Shuangying behind him.

He Shuangying came forward with a smile. “Old Lu, you’ve still got work to do tomorrow. What’s all this about?”

“The one with work to do tomorrow is me. I’m escorting my family and friends out of the city — I’ll be staying behind.”

He Shuangying glanced back over his shoulder. “Old Lu, you’ve gotten this far, and it’s not just down to you alone — it’s also thanks to all these brothers under you. Heaven’s Killer himself has spoken: stay here, get the job done well, and afterward, your ward, along with the one next to it, will both be yours.”

“…” Lu Xian hesitated for a moment, then said, his voice hoarse, “We’ve come all this way… how are we supposed to go back?”

“Just don’t go out. That’s all,” He Shuangying said, arms tucked into his sleeves, smiling. “I’m just the messenger here.”

As they spoke, the group remained stuck there, and faint stirrings of unrest were already rising from behind. Li Duanwu, standing nearby with a few able-bodied men from Li Family Village, waved a hand and tried to stir up a commotion.

“You’re turning us back here — how are we supposed to go back? You tell us how!”

“Not even letting us out of the city… if you’ve got the guts, just kill us outright…”

“Let’s see who dares block the road…”

“I’m sitting right here and not moving — let’s see who gets out of this city—”

Someone shouted loudly from further back down the street: “Move it, damn it!”

He Shuangying kept smiling, leaning toward the side of the road, making his attitude plain: “as long as you can’t get out, whether you die here or not is none of my concern.” This was simply the style “Heaven’s Killer” men operated by. Lu Xian’s eyes had gone bloodshot; for a moment he genuinely wanted to start a massacre right there. But after a moment, he finally waved a hand and gave the order: “Move to the side of the road, let the others pass—”

Over a hundred people, grumbling and cursing, pressed in a dark mass against the roadside. Lu Xian and Li Duanwu, though seething, had no choice but to try and find someone to smooth things over, to see if they might manage to turn back after all. At this point, amid the howling night wind within the city, all sorts of unsettling noises still lingered. At the third quarter of the hour of Yin, a massive chaos erupted nearby.

Points of light fell from somewhere unseen, dropping into the crowd near the city gate, then exploding outward.

And with this explosion, waves of clashing and slaughter suddenly rose up in the streets and alleys near and far, accompanied by the thunderous roar of cannon fire tearing through the night.

The crowd jammed along the street was thrown into panic as if struck by a tidal wave. Li Duanwu shouted among his own group: “Form up! Form up! Don’t scatter—” rallying the able-bodied men of Li Family Village to temporarily form a solid perimeter, as all manner of screams and shouts rose up around them.

“Run—”

“Fighting’s broken out—”

“The study society’s rebelling—”

“Someone’s been assassinated—”

“The gates are shut—”

Waves of news, true and false, surged in like a tide. In the light of the torches, fighting broke out in the distance; people hurled fire-bombs into the crowds; masses of people surged in every direction. Lu Xian and the others ordered the young men to draw their blades and push forward into the oncoming crush, forcing a path through.

Fighting broke out in streets near and far, on rooftops and in houses everywhere, and flames began to rise amid the chaos.

Lu Xian, Li Duanwu, and He Shuangying, who had followed along, climbed up onto a rooftop to survey the scene. Not far off in their line of sight, a massive clash had already broken out across several of the streets opposite them.

In the early hours of the twenty-second of the ninth month, the largest-scale assassination attempt yet, aimed at “Wheel-Turning King” Xu Zhaonan, was now underway.

Not long after, in the darkness, cannons began firing in volleys…

At the same moment, at the docks on the northern edge of the city, ships that had lain dormant in the night had come back to life, with some personnel belonging to the “Fairness King’s” side already boarding to evacuate.

He Wen, bandages wrapped around his body, a faint smell of blood clinging to him, was about to board a ship when he received an unexpected message from a young messenger…

…

Xu Zhaonan’s departure time from the city wasn’t fixed, so no overly detailed plan could be made. Since he needed to act on the situation as it developed, the manpower he could call on was limited to the loyal followers who’d long stayed by his side — and counting them up, most were old hands who had followed him since his days in Yu Family Village.

Yu Family Village had three great clans — one was the Yu clan, one the Ling clan, and there was also the Han family, into which the fourth junior martial brother’s wife, his junior martial sister, had married. During the great manhunt, he had killed his own master, Ling Shengwei; now, arriving in Jiangning, he had also killed Yu Bin. No one spoke of it openly, but privately, he couldn’t say for certain what opinions the others held.

Still, he’d gone ahead and made his plans.

For a long time, in order to survive amid conflicting pressures, the plans he’d made had generally leaned toward caution. But this time was different — the risk he was taking was enormous, and honestly, it felt more like he’d been possessed by some demon of recklessness. Perhaps because of his usual air of authority, those around him hadn’t raised many objections. Once everything was arranged, his elder brother Han Tao sat with him for a while on a rooftop in the darkness of night.

“…Little Chu and the others — they’ve already been sent off, haven’t they?”

“…They’ve already set out.”

“…As for you and Old Ling — that’s some kind of reckoning now, I suppose.”

“…He’s already dead. I’m still alive. What kind of reckoning is that?”

In the dim night, only these few idle words passed between them, then dissolved into the wind.

Xu Zhaonan chose the third quarter of the hour of Chou, near dawn, as the time to leave the city — not a predetermined moment, but simply the point when, having arranged everything, he gave the order to move. Given the suddenness of the action, there wasn’t much time for anyone who learned of it to react, but once they’d worked out the general direction his procession would take, the plan was quickly drawn up.

His men were divided into three groups: one to stir up trouble and carry out the assassination attempt, one to create chaos near Boxin Gate and drive those fleeing the city to surge back toward Xu Zhaonan’s position, and the third — six cannon carts led by Han Tao — to seize the high ground along the road he would necessarily pass, delivering two to three rounds of cannon fire to eliminate Xu Zhaonan and the skilled fighters around him all at once.

Simple, direct, and usually effective.

Not long after, the sound of cannon fire suddenly erupted—

…

Lu Xian, Li Duanwu, and He Shuangying moved swiftly across the dim rooftops. In the distance, people fled along the roads, clusters of torchlight flowing like light streaming down a river.

“That really is the Wheel-Turning King’s procession…”

Not far off in their line of sight, they could see a convoy belonging to the Wheel-Turning King heading their way, soldiers and skilled fighters spreading out along the roads on either side.

“Of the five great kings, the Wheel-Turning King has the most skilled fighters under him…” He Shuangying, who had wide connections, said. “Better not get close, or we’ll get caught in the crossfire.”

No sooner had he spoken than a tremendous boom split the night sky. Not far off, from atop a tower in a nearby courtyard, cannon fire tore open the darkness, and countless objects went whistling across the night sky, falling toward the road below.

Shrapnel rained down like a hailstorm, followed by a stunning explosion that threw up shockwaves and smoke, engulfing the banners, carriages, and horses of the “Wheel-Turning King’s” procession in a cloud of dust.

The men stared, wide-eyed.

As an uprising movement that had gained enormous momentum by seizing land from the wealthy, the Fairness Party’s expansion across Jiangnan had usually been a lopsided, overwhelming affair. Cannon fire had certainly seen some use on parts of the battlefield, but most people still put their faith in sheer personal martial skill — even in the idea that talismans and charms could make one immune to blade and spear. This was the first time they’d witnessed an assassination attempt carried out on this scale using cannon fire.

He Shuangying stood frozen on the rooftop.

Ahead, the billowing smoke and dust hadn’t yet settled, and the “Wheel-Turning King’s” forces on the road were in disarray. On the road beside Lu Xian and the others, several figures, having sensed the cannon fire, came sprinting this way. The one in the lead, his lightness technique extraordinary, had left his men several dozen feet behind him. As he neared, he hesitated for a moment — he’d spotted He Shuangying standing on the rooftop.

He Shuangying blinked in surprise, then leapt down to the street. “Old Xu, little brother He Shuangying, at your service. Right place, right time. The assassin’s up ahead.”

The one who had come rushing over first was none other than “Recluse of Tuo River” Xu Longbiao, of the “Wheel-Turning King” faction — currently the most senior protector at Xu Zhaonan’s side, a man of vast experience in the martial world, and possessed of leg techniques powerful enough to split trees and shatter stone.

He Shuangying, a trusted guard close to Wei Xuwen, was fond of mingling with the city’s many skilled fighters, and privately loved to boast. Spotted now by Xu Longbiao, he kept pace alongside the man, matching his stride, and said, “Old Xu, the Wheel-Turning King’s been attacked — I’ll lend you a hand.” His feet drove forward with a burst of speed that matched Xu Longbiao’s own, and in the blink of an eye they’d reached the street corner ahead.

Hidden in the darkness on the rooftop, Lu Xian and Li Duanwu didn’t show themselves. They both knew He Shuangying’s usual habit of showing off, and his love of getting in on the excitement had flared up again. If the Wheel-Turning King had been attacked, and he went along to help fend off the danger, he’d have quite the story to boast about later — and it might also win him a favor with someone like Xu Zhaonan. And if Xu Zhaonan died, well, that had nothing to do with him either — he could always claim he’d been right there when it happened.

Xu Longbiao and He Shuangying reached the street corner ahead in the blink of an eye. In the dim light, another figure came sprinting at high speed down a different street, and the two groups met right at that corner.

“Old Xu, the assassin’s up in that building ahead…”

“Brother Meng, the assassin’s up ahead, firing the cannon…”

“Who is this?”

“This…”

The figure emerging from that direction was, unmistakably, the “Resentment Society’s” chief leader, Meng Zhutao — tall of build, recognizable even at a distance to Lu Xian and Li Duanwu watching from the rooftop. And in that brief instant, Meng Zhutao had already closed the distance to Xu Longbiao, while the few attendants following behind him met with the stragglers trailing Xu Longbiao.

Xu Longbiao sensed something was wrong in that very instant. His body shot forward like lightning, and with a single stride, dust erupted from the ground as his whole body abruptly changed direction at a right angle, lunging toward He Shuangying, who had been running alongside him all along.

He Shuangying practiced the Tiger-Crane双形 style — mid-stride in his crane form, he suddenly burst into the tiger form.

Xu Longbiao swept past He Shuangying’s side, planted a foot against the wall lining the street, and shot back like a whip, his ferocious leg strength meeting He Shuangying’s tiger-fist head-on as the closing figure bore down on him.

Xu Longbiao was a long-established veteran of renown; He Shuangying was a rising star who’d made his name under “Heaven’s Killer.” Both were first-rate masters of the martial world in this era, and their sudden clash, in the dim light, rang out like the roar of tiger and dragon. Meanwhile, Meng Zhutao had already closed the distance; without breaking stride, he swung his steel whip down in a crushing blow.

A series of thunderous booms and crashes erupted at that street corner as the three figures, caught in the violent collision, smashed through the wall lining the road. Xu Longbiao’s leg snapped; his body seemed to burst apart from the impact, and it wasn’t clear whether it was organs or bricks flying through the night air. He Shuangying staggered back again and again, like a tiger caught in a great hand’s grip. The three of them, like a runaway carriage, crashed straight into the courtyard beyond. On the rooftop, Lu Xian’s eyes went wide as he watched Meng Zhutao, in the midst of his high-speed charge, crush open Xu Longbiao’s belly with the steel whip, then clamp his other hand over He Shuangying’s face, lifting him up and slamming him down onto a stone millstone in the courtyard, again and again. Before the dust had even settled, the two masters no longer looked human.

The men on both sides on the street had only just begun fighting each other when Meng Zhutao burst out through the gap in the wall, his measuring-rod weapon sweeping out in a single stroke, cutting down every one of Xu Longbiao’s men in an instant.

Lu Xian and Li Duanwu, hidden on the rooftop, dared not even breathe too loudly. They had known that this Meng Zhutao of the “Resentment Society” was reckoned one of the deadliest men in the martial world — but they’d never imagined his skill could be so far beyond anything they’d conceived, that men like Xu Longbiao and He Shuangying, joining forces, could be struck down like chickens and ducks with a single clash.

Meng Zhutao lingered only a moment at that blood-spattered street corner, his gaze turning toward the tower building where the cannon fire had come from earlier.

The cannon did not fire a second volley.

A faint, eerie sound seemed to be brewing in the darkness over there.

The next instant, he waved a hand, and, with the men around him, charged at full speed toward the street where Xu Zhaonan had been attacked.

What had happened to Han Tao, in charge of the cannon fire, remained unknown.

The first volley had covered the target, but whether Xu Zhaonan was dead or not couldn’t be confirmed.

Either way, moving fast against a slower enemy, his side still had one more chance.

Blood coursing through his body, warmed to its peak state, Meng Zhutao’s figure moved like a demon-god, lunging toward his prey.

…

The smoke and dust from the cannon fire was beginning to clear.

Amid the thick stench of blood, Xu Zhaonan staggered out of his shattered carriage, and, escorted by several guards equally covered in blood, ran forward.

In the darkness, flares rose — it seemed his rescuers had drawn near, already engaged in combat with the enemy.

Among the Fairness Party’s five kings, his own faction had the greatest number of skilled fighters; he’d thought he had no need to fear any assassination attempt. Yet he’d never imagined the blow that would land on him would come in the form of such overwhelming cannon fire. For a moment, he even suspected the Southwest itself had orchestrated this attack.

If that were true, then a second volley, a third… there would be no escaping it.

As this fear rose in his heart, at that same moment, he saw someone racing toward him at high speed, calling out something.

That was Meng Zhutao…

He should have been someone he could trust — but the man was coming far, far too fast…

…

In the distance down the street, the “Resentment Society’s” rescue flares had already risen into the sky. Meng Zhutao charged into the drifting smoke, and the instant he spotted Xu Zhaonan, he called out.

“Don’t go that way… head east! Lord Xu, are you alright?”

He closed in at high speed, playing the part of a guide, even stopping to help up a wounded man on the ground, waving his hand as he called out, “This way—”

The chaos caused by the cannon fire had, for the moment, scattered Xu Zhaonan’s protective formation, and this show of forceful assistance was, in theory, enough to fool anyone for an instant. As the distance between them closed to within ten feet, Meng Zhutao shoved the wounded man he was carrying forward.

Across from him, Xu Zhaonan had already drawn the gold-ringed broadsword from his back. “Block him—” Because of the roar of the cannon fire, he hadn’t heard what Meng Zhutao was saying, and so, instead, he could see with terrible clarity the one fact that mattered: the man kept closing in.

In the dim light, smoke swirled sideways, and the demon-god wielding the steel whip let out a breath, the long whip lashing out.

Opposite him, several blood-spattered masters closed ranks to meet the attack.

The whip’s shadow surged forward with a roar, like a raging swarm of dragons, tearing through flesh and skin in an instant, blood and bone flying in every direction. Meng Zhutao’s towering figure crushed through the crowd. Xu Zhaonan, no less formidable, swung his gold-ringed broadsword down in a slashing arc to meet him. Their blades met with a crash on the first strike; on the second, the flesh of Xu Zhaonan’s palm split open, and his long blade flew from his grip, spinning into the sky. Meng Zhutao’s whip swept in, crashing down toward Xu Zhaonan’s head with the most ferocious force imaginable!

A flash of despair crossed Xu Zhaonan’s eyes.

In the next instant, right before Meng Zhutao, Xu Zhaonan’s body was wrenched backward as if caught in some enormous vortex. The steel whip struck nothing but empty air. His body surged forward again, and from the smoke ahead, a massive figure rose to meet him, dragging behind it half the frame of a shattered carriage, swinging it forward with a roaring whoosh.

Meng Zhutao charged to meet it head-on.

Amid the chaos of the street, onlookers witnessed an astonishing sight: at the very moment “Wheel-Turning King” Xu Zhaonan tumbled backward, two figures clashed violently within the swirling smoke, and the half carriage frame caught up in the collision was smashed to pieces in an instant with the most brutal force, splinters of wood and shards of steel flying off into every corner of the darkness.

“A—mi—ta—bha.”

A deep, resonant Buddhist chant rolled slowly over the street.

The smoke and dust drifted apart.

Two towering figures — superhuman in their strength — stood facing each other across the chaos of the long street.