Chapter 9: Knife and Sword Enter the Night

Ning Xiaoling opened her eyes as a dark shadow flashed across the wooden lattice gate.

“Who’s there!”

A chill seeped into her limbs, and she let out a sharp cry, instantly wide awake.

Dead silence.

However, that was only for a fleeting moment. Before Ning Xiaoling’s breath had even finished, a very low buzzing sound emerged from the darkness on her right, accompanied by a sudden, concealed killing intent.

The crisp sound of a porcelain bottle shattering echoed.

A long blade thrust through the wooden shelves on the right. Its chill had condensed into a single point, aiming directly for her neck.

It was an extremely dangerous strike, like a venomous snake darting out from under the foliage, moving with astonishing speed and deadly intent.

But Ning Xiaoling, with an inexplicable intuition, sensed it even before the porcelain bottle shattered. Her body reacted by retreating. As the blade’s intent rushed towards her, she had already taken two steps back, and the full force of that strike could no longer reach her.

The hidden assassin was surprised by her reaction. Separated from the girl by the open-work cabinet, he was restricted and couldn't immediately launch a second attack.

Although Ning Xiaoling had dodged the terrifying blow, she was still trembling, her eyelids fluttering wildly.

The main door was tightly shut, and the room was not spacious. In the complete darkness, that deadly sharp blade remained aimed at her.

Ning Xiaoling had never experienced anything like this. Before she could react effectively, the long blade tore through the wood with a cracking sound. The assassin didn't choose to withdraw the knife and go around the cabinet; instead, he slapped the hilt, sending the sharp blade flying through the air directly. At the same time, he swayed, swiftly circling the cabinet to approach her.

Killing intent returned.

Ning Xiaoling couldn't see the blade's trajectory. Only the alarm of her spiritual sense, a tiny spark of intuition, suddenly intensified, making her instinctively step back and lean away.

Just as the blade was about to strike, the night wind outside suddenly picked up, blowing open a window. Curtains flapped wildly, and the corridor lights shone in, casting the glint of the blade as a bright red point of light.

It was the window the assassin had opened when he entered the room.

In that faint light, Ning Xiaoling clearly saw the incoming strike. In that instant, her movements suddenly became several times faster. She tapped her foot on the ground, leaned her body, slapped the ground with her palm, and, switching hands, leaped sideways, deftly evading the deadly blow.

With a clang, the sharp blade had embedded itself into the partition behind her.

All of this happened in a very short time. The assassin's figure, too, arrived amidst the interwoven shadows, but his palm struck only empty air, merely brushing against a bit of her sleeve.

He had no time to ponder why the young girl had suddenly become so swift; he instinctively tried to pull the blade out with a backhand motion.

He found he couldn't pull it free.

Immediately, a burst of pain erupted from his wrist, as if something had bitten down hard.

The assassin violently shook his wrist, dislodging a snow-white figure.

It was a snow fox with no tail, its body as small as a kitten's. But its reactions were incredibly quick; the moment its feet touched the ground, it darted like a bullet, leaping towards the girl.

The assassin understood instantly, followed by immense horror in his heart: “An innate spirit? You can actually form a spirit?”

Cultivators were one in a thousand, but those born with the ability to manifest a spirit were one in ten thousand.

Ning Xiaoling had no habit of wasting words. She ran directly towards the window, which was letting in light, screamed for help outside, and then leaped, intending to crash through the window.

The assassin's shock was brief. He instinctively reached for his waist, where he found a small crossbow.

As Ning Xiaoling jumped, he immediately aimed at the spot where the girl would land, pulled the trigger, and with a whoosh, the crossbow bolt shot out.

No matter how exceptionally gifted the girl was, she ultimately lacked experience in matters of life and death.

Her current cultivation wasn't enough for her to change her speed or position in mid-air, without any support or leverage.

So after she jumped, the arrow followed her trajectory, and she had nowhere to dodge.

The wind tore asunder; the small arrow was both swift and true.

The small snow fox sensed the killing intent. Its fur bristled, and it leaped into the air, seemingly to block the deadly arrow.

But the spirit was, after all, only newly formed. It crumbled upon contact with the arrowhead, disintegrating into wisps of smoke that flowed back into Ning Xiaoling's sea of consciousness. A sweetness rose in her throat, and before she could spit out blood, the arrow was already hurtling towards her waist.

Just at this moment of assured success, the assassin suddenly froze.

He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was hallucinating.

The arrow had already torn through the paper window and embedded itself in the wall, yet the little girl's figure had inexplicably vanished as if a ghost.

Then, the main door suddenly opened.

A handsome young man in a green robe walked in expressionlessly. In his hand, he held a shaken little girl—Ning Xiaoling, to be precise.

The assassin stood as if facing a formidable enemy.

“Go back, don't make me change my mind.” The young man in green opened his palm; it held a jade token.

The assassin exclaimed in astonishment, “The Qinghua Division's jade token… how did you get it?”

Ning Changjiu said, “Upon seeing this jade token, you should obey. Go back. If you are still unwilling, you can try again, and I will try to kill.”

As he spoke, Ning Changjiu gripped the hilt of the embedded blade with a backhand, pulled it out, and with a flick of his arm, the knife plunged into his sheath with a whirring sound, the blade shattering like an exploding firecracker.

In that room, a woman's sleeping robe was disheveled, and she was drenched in cold sweat.

She slumped onto the bed, still unable to believe the scene she had just witnessed.

The formation had been set, its momentum overwhelming. The young man had clearly been cornered like a trapped beast, yet in just three short breaths, she watched him pick up the lamp from the table, step out along perfectly precise coordinates, taking exactly seven steps—not a moment too late nor too early. With incredible precision, he broke through the formation and appeared before her.

“This is my sincerity.” He uttered only this sentence, then wasted no more words, directly seizing the jade token from under her pillow.

Only at this moment did she fully comprehend: his 'sincerity' was power.

Because he was strong enough, they had to take him seriously, even accommodate him.

But… why was this young Daoist priest so formidable?

She took a deep breath and immediately went to find paper and a brush.

Regardless of his origin or which side he would ultimately stand on, her young mistress had to know about this immediately. This unknown young man could absolutely not be allowed to become a critical factor influencing the overall situation.

After the woman had taken the paper and brush, she whistled towards the door.

By the time her note was drafted and the ink had dried, a small vermilion bird had landed on the windowsill, its dark, beady eyes fixed on her.

The woman quickly rolled up the note, and the small bird opened its beak, taking the note directly into its mouth. It fluttered its wings and flew into the night.

The woman sighed longingly into the vast night mist, feeling a little more settled in her heart.

What happened tonight was too sudden. She was powerless to guess at the underlying implications; she could only do what she had to do.

“Yu’er, what… what are you doing?”

A voice came from outside the door.

The woman was startled physically and mentally. She turned to look and saw Zhao Shisong, still somewhat groggy in his sleeping robe, standing at the doorway, looking at her with a complicated expression.

She had been too nervous just now and hadn't noticed Zhao Shisong's arrival at all!

“You…” Zhao Shisong tremblingly raised a finger and pointed at her. He recalled the vermilion bird that had just flown away with a flutter of wings, and disbelievingly asked, “Are you one of her people?”

The woman didn't answer, looking back at him with an equally complicated expression.

Zhao Shisong was wide awake now, stamping his foot in anger. “Tang Yu! How have I ever treated you badly? You're just a servant to her, but what about me? Fine clothes, delicious food, glory, wealth—what have I not given you? Even when you fell ill and were possessed, I stayed with you for days. What more could you possibly be dissatisfied with?!”

Zhao Shisong's body trembled with agitation. His beard quivered, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened.

The woman named Tang Yu softly said, “I know you've been good to me. In my heart, I know and thank you, and I wanted to be good to you, but…”

The emotion in her voice gradually faded, like rain quietly ceasing in the night.

“It's just that twenty days ago, you absolutely shouldn't have brought so many people and joined them in besieging the Empress's palace! The moment you walked away, all of this became set in stone.”

Zhao Shisong was both angry and confused. He stepped over the threshold and quickly walked up to her, staring at her young, beautiful face, saying with regret:

“What kind of magic does that woman possess? Although you grew up there, given your status, how could you have possibly met her? Why are you so blindly loyal? Although Zhao Xiang'er has returned now, she is ultimately isolated and powerless… There's still time to turn back. I… I can let bygones be bygones.”

As he spoke, he extended a hand, intending to grasp her shoulder.

Tang Yu, however, subtly took a step back, her gaze growing firmer.

“If I am blindly loyal, then you are foolish.”

“Why?”

“You dare to say the Empress is dead without having seen her bones. What else is that but foolishness?”

“But…”

Tang Yu didn't want to listen anymore. Her eyes grew colder: “Besides, many of those who died in Qianyu Palace twenty days ago were my former sisters.”

Outside the window, a bird chirped; the small vermilion bird had returned.

Zhao Shisong glanced at it, and a huge fear wellled up in his heart. He finally realized something, immediately backed away, and frantically shouted, “Guards!”

In Ning Xiaoling's room, there was widespread wreckage; the assassin had already departed.

Ning Xiaoling recalled the scene that had just unfolded, still shaken.

While helpless in mid-air, watching the arrow hurtle towards her, a hand grabbed her arm and sharply pulled her away.

She clung tightly to Ning Changjiu's hand, almost bursting into tears.

Everything that happened tonight was too sudden.

She pressed her hand to her chest; her heart pounded against her palm, thumping uncontrollably.

She huddled in bed, looking worriedly at her senior disciple brother: “Senior Brother, let’s go back…”

Ning Changjiu said, “I'll find a suitable time to send you back first.”

Ning Xiaoling asked, “What about you? Aren't you coming with me?”

Ning Changjiu said, “I need to stay here.”

Ning Xiaoling asked, “Are the events unfolding in this imperial palace related to you, Senior Brother?”

Ning Changjiu said, “That is their grievance, not my karma.”

“Hmm…” Ning Xiaoling pondered for a moment, then mustered her courage and asked, “What karma are you looking for, Senior Brother?”