Chapter 25.1

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Night had fallen, and the north wind rattled the worn shutters with a hollow creak. In weather like this, it was hard not to feel the urge to climb under the covers—especially when they were already heated through, giving off a warm, inviting allure.

Fan Changyu drew her arms in, leaning against the bedpost with her eyes closed for a quick rest. All the while, she kept her ears tuned to the sounds downstairs. Once Aunt Zhao (Madam Zhao) and Carpenter Zhao turned in for the night, she slipped home to fetch the land deed, then carried her quilt back here to sleep on the floor.

Ever since Fan Da’s accident the previous day, she had barely slept. Though her body was worn down, her spirit stayed on high alert, not daring to relax even for a moment. The person beside her took shallow breaths, and she faintly caught a light citrus fragrance—perhaps from the dried tangerine peel candy he had eaten.

She found herself remembering that moment in the pine forest when he’d seized her hand, guiding her through a combat move as he spoke close by her ear. That memory made her ears grow inexplicably warm, though thankfully, the darkness hid any sign of it.

Just as she was about to rub her ear, the person beside her sat up without a sound. Before she could react, a slender finger—still carrying a faint warmth—pressed gently against her lips. His long hair fell forward, brushing her hand and sending a delicate, tingling chill over her skin.

He was so close now that the tangerine peel fragrance on him grew even stronger. Fan Changyu started, and then, upon hearing cat-like footsteps on the roof tiles above, she instantly perked up.

Xie Zheng, seeing this, wordlessly drew back the finger resting on her lips. In that brief moment, the side of his finger had grazed something soft and warm, tender as a flower petal beaded with early morning dew. He frowned slightly, rubbing away the tingling sensation at his fingertip and calming the strange stir in his chest.

The footsteps across the rooftop were light but chaotic, suggesting more than one intruder. Moments later, several of those steps paused somewhere nearby—judging by the distance, it sounded like they had stopped on the Fan family’s roof. The rest continued forward and halted above the Zhao family’s home. Soon came the faint click of shifting roof tiles, and a thin bamboo tube slipped through a gap, releasing a wisp of greenish smoke.

In the gloom, they covered their mouths and noses with their collars, exchanging a quick look by the faint light seeping through the window. Then, with a creak from the ramshackle shutters, a black-clad figure slipped inside without a sound.

Fan Changyu and Xie Zheng stood on opposite sides of the bed curtains. Initially, they traded silent gestures on how to finish off the intruder once he drew closer. But as seven or eight more figures followed in quick succession through that same window, any plan they had dissolved. The room was so small that their presence would be discovered in no time.

Fan Changyu pressed her lips firmly together, silently feeling for the boning knife hidden on her person. Suddenly, a black-clad intruder swung his blade viciously at the bed. The dull resistance of the bedding made his expression shift at once. 

“It’s a trap!”

In the next instant, his waist and abdomen went cold. Someone darted out from behind the bed curtains and lunged headfirst toward the window with a resounding crash. Outside, another black-clad figure was halfway in, sliding down a rope affixed to the roof. He got knocked clean off his line by this fast-moving silhouette and was sent hurtling into the courtyard below, slamming onto the blue bricks so hard they cracked in several places.

The figure rose swiftly—a woman. While the black-clad man on the ground was still disoriented from the fall, she landed a fierce slap that knocked him unconscious. Snatching up his saber, she bolted toward the courtyard exit.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye. The remaining black-clad intruders inside the room stood there in stunned silence. Then, realizing what was happening, they yelled in unison, “Chase!”

They poured out of the window like dumplings dropping into a pot. Hiding on the other side of the bed curtains, Xie Zheng had never expected Fan Changyu to single-handedly lure them away. But he quickly understood: she was protecting him, along with the elderly couple downstairs and her younger sister. A heavy feeling settled in his chest.

When the last few black-clad intruders inside prepared to leap out the window, Xie Zheng flicked a translucent piece of dried tangerine peel candy from his fingertips. The man who had just jumped was struck right behind the knee, lost his balance in midair, and crashed straight down.

Hearing the disturbance behind them, the remaining men finally realized there was someone else in the room. These intruders were the elite among death warriors; yet, after being inside for so long, they still hadn’t detected his presence. How utterly masterful must his breath-holding skill be?

They didn’t dare take him lightly. Spinning around, they swung their blades at him. Xie Zheng flicked several more candies from between his fingers, striking their elbows, the backs of their knees, and the vital points around their waists. That slight pause—a mere heartbeat—was enough time for him to seize a blade and end them.

After dispatching two of them, he pressed the newly claimed blade to the neck of the wounded intruder, who was clutching his bloody side. The weapon that had just sliced across the man’s abdomen had been thin and sharp, nothing like a dagger—whatever it was, it had left him bleeding badly. Now, with a bloodstained blade at his throat, the intruder didn’t dare make a move.

Xie Zheng intended to knock the man out and keep him alive for questioning, then rush out to help Fan Changyu. But suddenly, blazing torchlight flared on the main street beyond the alley. Horses thundered through the silence of the night, the clatter of soldiers’ armor and running footsteps weaving into a tight net of sound. The ominous whoosh of arrows hissed through the air, enough to chill the blood of anyone who heard it.

Chasing after Fan Changyu, those black-clad pursuers were immediately peppered with arrows, left looking like human sieves. Xie Zheng frowned, weighed down by doubt. Qingping County doesn’t have a stationed garrison—so how did these soldiers show up so fast in the next town over?