Chapter Thirty-Eight: Hua

That night, the sky was moonless and the wind bleak. At the third watch, a band of men clad in black moved like shadows through the darkness, quietly approaching a small residence. After organizing themselves, they left one man at each of the front and back gates to block the exits, while the rest slipped soundlessly over the walls.

Once each had chosen a room as their target, a slender figure by the main house’s entrance waved his hand and whispered, “Now!” In an instant, the group burst into the rooms. The sound of blades sinking into flesh, muffled screams, and urgent shouts to warn companions erupted across the house. In moments, five pairs were already locked in fierce combat, their battles spilling from the rooms into the courtyard. Four of these attackers were Foundation Establishment cultivators—their strength outclassed the house’s guards, who were not all of the same level.

Another assailant, still at the Qi Refining stage, by chance encountered Hua Mingzhu. She had never killed before; as she rushed into the room, hesitation made her falter. The defender, roused by the commotion outside, immediately engaged her. The two exchanged a dozen moves, found the room too cramped, and leapt outside to continue their fight.

“Who are you? Name yourself! I am Jin Renfeng, leader of the Dagger Gang. Let’s stop for a moment—could this be a misunderstanding?” Jin Renfeng had traded dozens of blows with his opponent without gaining the upper hand. Growing anxious, he seized an opening, parried the youth’s sword with his short blade, and finally glimpsed the slim, youthful figure before him. He pressed the question.

“There is no misunderstanding—none that can be resolved. Most of your men are dead. Tonight, it’s either you or us!” Mei Yuchen replied, his blood surging with excitement. This was his first real fight, and against a late Foundation Establishment opponent no less; he felt his path to renown would begin here.

Jin Renfeng glanced around. Besides himself, only four of his men remained. At least seven or eight black-clad figures watched from the shadows, and who knew how many more lurked unseen. He cursed bitterly, “Damn it, bastards! If I’m going to die, I’ll take someone down with me!”

At that, Jin Renfeng threw all caution aside and launched a reckless, all-out assault on Mei Yuchen.

Now Mei Yuchen began to feel the difficulty. At first, his opponent had been defensive, giving him space to attack freely. Now, Jin Renfeng fought as though he had nothing to lose, every move a deadly trade, forcing Mei Yuchen to defend at every step, looking for chances to strike back.

Meanwhile, Liu Feng inspected the other rooms, surveyed the situation, and noticed that Hua Mingzhu was gradually gaining the upper hand. However, his brothers fighting the other three Foundation Establishment cultivators were making slow progress; delay could bring disaster. He promptly signaled the rest to join in and finish the job. This was not a test of individual skill—mistakes could not be allowed, and the matter had to be settled quickly.

With the reinforcements, the three were cut down in a brutal onslaught.

Seeing his brothers slaughtered, Jin Renfeng’s eyes nearly burst with rage. In a desperate surge, he pressed Mei Yuchen so hard that the youth nearly faltered.

Exhausted and barely defending, Mei Yuchen narrowly escaped being stabbed several times, feeling his inexperience keenly.

Just as disaster seemed imminent, a shadow flashed by. Jin Renfeng, caught off guard, took a blade to the back—blood sprayed as he collapsed, struck down by Liu Feng, who had been observing the fight. The blow was heavy and unexpected; Jin Renfeng could not rise again.

Mei Yuchen nodded to Liu Feng in thanks. He was no fool—this was not the time for bravado. He had tested his strength against a late Foundation Establishment opponent; that was enough.

Liu Feng asked, “Brother Mei, what should we do with him?”

Mei Yuchen replied, “Brother Cheng once told me a saying from his hometown: ‘Leave a thread of mercy, so you may meet again in the future.’” While Liu Feng was still pondering the meaning, Mei Yuchen stepped forward and drove his sword into Jin Renfeng, ending his life.

“...Is that what it means?” Liu Feng was speechless. “Did you really understand that saying?”

Mei Yuchen grinned. “Since we have no intention of meeting again, there’s no need for mercy.” Only he knew the turmoil within—his first killing had left him tense, fearful, and exhilarated all at once. Beneath his mask, his face was flushed and pale by turns; his banter was just a front, so as not to show weakness before his comrades.

The others could only shake their heads in silence.

Meanwhile, though Hua Mingzhu was also killing for the first time, she found her opponent’s moves increasingly familiar and handled them with growing confidence. Soon, she found an opening, feinted, and drove her slender sword into the man’s throat.

Blood gurgled forth as he convulsed before her. Unlike Mei Yuchen, she was shaken—her sword hand trembled, fear rising in her chest. A wave of nausea threatened to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to hold it back, unwilling to disgrace herself in front of the others.

As the man breathed his last, she noticed a large key at his waist—likely the storeroom key. She reached for it, but just then, a sudden change occurred.

A figure shot toward her from the distance.

So fast—so astonishingly fast that the others could only shout warnings, unable to intervene in time. Alarm flashed through the group; the disciple of Senior Lu could be in danger. That speed rivaled a Golden Core cultivator—surely a master, and tonight’s mission might yet go awry.

In a heartbeat, the black-clad figure flashed past Hua Mingzhu, not attacking her, but making straight for the main gate.

Hua Mingzhu was drenched in cold sweat, thinking her life forfeit. When she realized she was unharmed, she checked herself—nothing amiss, except the key at her victim’s waist was gone.

The shadow sped toward the gate—no one could react in time, let alone give chase.

Just as he nearly reached the exit, there was a thud—a figure fell straight from the gate into the courtyard.

A man stepped from the shadows, blocking the gate: Wei Xu, the one assigned to guard it. The fallen shadow, incredibly, was the “expert” whose speed had just startled them.

This reversal left everyone stunned and bewildered. They had braced for a master’s assault, only to see the intruder felled with a single blow.

Wei Xu laughed, “Look at you all—scared out of your wits. I hit him once and knew right away—this guy’s only early Foundation Establishment, probably the fourth or fifth in rank. His footwork is extraordinary, but his martial skills are feeble. Clearly, he’s relied on this unique art to become a leader, but he’s timid and just tried to run.”

The others burst out laughing, relief flooding through them.

The man staggered to his feet, panic in his eyes, searching for any chance to escape.

Hua Mingzhu, thoughtful, spoke up, “Brothers, don’t kill him yet. Please block all the exits and surround him.”

Once everyone had taken their positions, she continued, “Those with throwing weapons, please injure him with them.”

Puzzled, but obedient, a few skilled with hidden weapons immediately began launching them. The man could only rely on his footwork, dodging all attacks—none struck him.

The group, amused now, kept up the barrage, even those without weapons tossing stones and tiles into the circle. The air was thick with projectiles, yet the man evaded them all.

Were they not on opposing sides, some might have cheered for the man’s display.