The sounds downstairs were as distant as the tide.

 

The two people in the elegant room were very close, close enough to hear each other’s breathing and heartbeats.

 

One after another, echoing in each other’s ears.

 

“Zhu Zi’an,” she said.

 

“Mm,” he answered.

 

An extremely quiet yet extremely noisy moment.

 

“Jiang Xiaoman,” he quickly broke the silence.

 

He carefully smoothed out his ruffled collar, released his hands and placed them on her shoulders, gently patting once. He said softly to her, “Remember you promised me, no getting hurt.”

 

“Okay,” she answered softly.

 

Zhu Zi’an turned and walked to the window, suddenly pushing it wide open.

 

The fighting sounds from below the elegant room came clanging up, blurred into a chaotic din through the rain and fog.

 

Zhu Zi’an did not look down, but stared straight at the building right across.

 

At some point, a figure in black robes had appeared atop that building. He wore a black kerchief over his face, carried a broad blade on his back. A gust of wind blew, stirring his robe corners, billowing wildly in the biting rain.

 

That black-robed man who had shown up at Tonghua Gate, and again at the autumn hunt.

“You came after all,” Zhu Zi’an said calmly, “You’ve come to kill me.”

 

He suddenly pulled out the folding fan at his waist, forcefully snapping it against the window frame! The crisp, bright sound of fan ribs hitting solid wood rang out, clearly transmitting through the rain for a long distance.

 

At the sound, someone by the lakeside moved…not just one, but a group!

 

The scattered guests were thrown into uneasy chaos, many shadows among them suddenly stopped and turned.

 

Those figures slowly drew an array of blades, pressing knife edges against the necks of guests beside them, the icy light brimming with murderous intent.

 

A group had already sneaked into Wangyue Tower beforehand, hiding amongst the crowds. Disguised as revelers and courtesans, they waited for this fan snap as a signal.

At this signal, they emerged in unison, taking the entire crowd hostage, including children of prominent families and nobles.

 

Frigid knife edges glinting in the rain, embroiling Wangyue Tower’s guests entirely into this feud between martial forces.

 

Zhu Zi’an stared straight at the black-robed man across from him. “Let us pass,” he said slowly.

 

“Otherwise – everyone here will be my hostages.”

 

His gaze was calm yet defiant: “Do you dare kill me?”

 

Silence descended on Wangyue Tower.

 

The hostages didn’t dare make a sound, the fighters also stopped their motions. All the Black Beggar Clan looked towards their Chief Ruan Wujii, while Ruan Wujii raised his head to look at the black-robed man atop the building.

 

The black-robed man did not speak.

 

“Drip, drip.”

 

The sounds of raindrops striking tiles rang out one by one.

 

Across the vast rainy fog, the opponents on rooftop and in pavilion stared at each other for a long time.

 

The black-robed man suddenly gave a low, hoarse laugh, like an aged owl. His fragmented laughter echoed through the fog:

 

“Hehe chuckling…” Master Pu, are you trying to make a bet with me?”

 

“You’re betting I wouldn’t dare harm these influential guests of Wangyue Tower…while I’m betting you don’t dare kill them.” His hoarse voice continued, “What a pity…you don’t dare kill them, but I dare kill you!”

 

He stood atop the eaves, shouting coldly: “Kill! Leave none of Pu Liu’s people alive!”

 

The fighting sounds below intensified, fiercer than before. The black-robed man reached behind for his broad blade. Striding through the rain in big steps, he rushed from rooftop to pavilion in a few bounds!

 

“Go!” Zhu Zi’an pulled Jiang Kui along as he turned to leave immediately.

 

Jiang Kui went ahead while Zhu Zi’an followed closely behind, the two sprinted through the corridors.

 

Behind them, the black-robed man crashed through the window. Seeing the elegant room now empty, he gave a cold laugh. Gripping his broad blade, he raced up the stairs to give chase, bursting onto the pavilion rooftop.

 

The slanted rooftop was covered in green and blue glazed tiles. Ridge ornaments lined the roof crest. Raindrops hit the cylindrical tiles, streaming down the elongated roof shingles, dripping down from the lotus-motif drip tiles into the pool below, splashing endlessly.

 

Amidst the babbling water, a young gentleman stood alone atop the roof ridge, holding a folding fan.

 

Having climbed to this highest, dead-end spot, there was nowhere left to flee.

 

He looked up and smiled. “Since death awaits, may I ask who you are?”

 

The black-robed man answered coldly, “Master Pu, you can go below the Yellow Springs to ask.”

 

Brandishing his broad blade, he flashed forward in one move, arriving before Zhu Zi’an. The icy blade chopped down from above, cleaving straight for his head!

 

Zhu Zi’an smiled lightly. Flipping his wrist, he raised the folding fan to meet the blow. The fan suddenly transformed into a sword, faintly exuding an edge.

 

The black-robed man shouted, suddenly abandoning the blade to push both palms out, straight towards Zhu Zi’an’s chest!

 

This was part of his plan. Zhu Zi’an had blocked his palm strike at Tonghua Gate. Although back then, he’d only used fifty percent strength, it was still extremely formidable. Unsure of this young man’s actual martial prowess, he decided to first feint with the blade, forcing him to counter the blade. Then he would seize the chance to utilize his strongest strike…which wasn’t the blade, but his palms!

 

At full strength, this Cruelty Palm could cripple Zhu Zi’an’s energy paths if not kill him outright, at least heavily injure him.

 

Zhu Zi’an glanced at him, also discarding his fan!

 

He slowly pushed out both palms too, seeming to meet the other palm strike head-on.

 

“Arrogant brat!” the black-robed man bellowed, exerting seventy percent power.

 

The palm wind roared forth like a frenzied snake, stirring rainwater from all directions.

 

Zhu Zi’an laughed and nimbly flashed sideways.

 

A long spear shot out from behind him!

 

“Old geezer!” The girl’s voice was clear and melodious. “How do you do?”

 

Jiang Kui hadn’t left at all, but was hiding below the eaves. When Zhu Zi’an drew out the Cruelty Palm, she immediately flew upwards from beneath, catching the enemy off-guard with her spear.

 

This sudden spear strike contained vast power. Spinning mist swirled around the spear tip as it swept the rainwater from the palm wind right back at her opponent, drenching him entirely before slamming against his palm!

 

A thunderous crash. Both sides stumbled back several steps, grunting simultaneously.

 

“Cuicheng style,” the black-robed man’s voice changed. “You are his disciple?”

 

“What a pity! What a pity!” He shook his head, laughing loudly. “In the end, you’re still a little girl. How can you utilize the true Cuicheng art?”

 

Taking a deep breath, he strode forward and pushed out another palm!

 

Exerting full strength this time, the palm went for her Cuicheng spear. The roaring palm wind stirred countless fine rain, carrying lethal intent as it shot towards the vital spot of the girl before him.

 

Zhu Zi’an suddenly turned behind Jiang Kui, gently pressing his palm against her back.

 

Gentle, authentic inner energy slowly emitted from his palm into her body.

 

Jiang Kui was slightly startled for a moment…it was the exact same inner energy as what she cultivated.

 

In general, those who cultivate different methods have different inner force natures. Recklessly injecting one’s inner force into another could not only fail to help, but even backlash instead.

 

Yet Zhu Zi’an’s inner force was exactly the same as her own cultivation…thus, he easily injected his inner force into her.

 

In that instant, she felt her strength to grasp the spear multiply exponentially. Spear tip quivering as if about to slip free of itself.

 

“You—” she asked in a low voice.

 

“Focus,” he said close behind her ear.

 

His voice was mellow, echoing by her ear, having a settling effect on her psyche.

 

Jiang Kui thought no more. Inhaling deeply, gripping spear end tightly with both hands.

 

Gripping the butt, cutting off all chance of retreat, was how the Cuicheng style began.

 

This strike burst forth fiercely, giving no chance to pull back once unleashed, only able to commit all the way.

 

She braced the spear, took a step, pressed forward, and thrusted!

 

The long spear shot forth tall and straight!

 

Two differently powerful winds collided, blowing tiles into disarray!

 

In a split second, the wild wind blasted forth, blowing off the black-robed man’s face veil. His features were exposed for an instant.

 

Then the pavilion swayed violently as if the building would collapse. The stirred rainwater spun at high speeds amidst the crashing sounds before pouring down like a storm, drenching all three people atop the roof.

 

The girl on the roof was blown back by the gale, flung out like a withered leaf!

 

Zhu Zi’an leapt agilely between the flipping tiles, catching her from midair in the turbulent winds. The fierce air currents forced them both back until barely stopping at roof ridge end.

 

He stood behind her, grasping her shoulders to help her stand, fingers gently covering her own to help her re-grip the spear.

 

“Zhu Zi’an…” She coughed out hoarsely, inner energy churning violently within.

 

“Don’t speak,” he pressed her lips. “Regulate your breathing.”

 

He also said: “Jiang Xiaoman, you did it. You took his palm strike.”

 

“Mm,” she replied softly in his embrace, closing her eyes.

 

The girl in his arms gradually lost consciousness, a weak, feverish flush on her delicate cheeks. Rain had drenched her long hair, matting dark strands to stick limply on her skin.

 

A piercing pain struck his heart.

 

He gently pressed his palm against her back again. Identical, gentle inner force infused her, helping her stabilize the roiling inner force and soothe her chaotic, uneasy channels.

 

The black-robed man had also sustained hidden injuries in the battle, taking a while to stand firmly on the eaves once more.

 

“Master Pu, cornered with no escape, this is inevitable death.” His hoarse voice returned. “What other tricks can you pull?”

 

Zhu Zi’an hugged the girl in his arms, standing across from the other man. He chuckled lowly, “As it happens, there is one more.”

 

He looked up, closing his eyes as if listening to the rain. Vague fog drifted around his figure. Raindrops landed on his hair and cheeks, accentuating that lone, bold silhouette like a stalk of bamboo.

 

He seemed to be waiting for something.

 

In retrospect, his every move was meant to buy time.

 

The black-robed man froze briefly, unsure what game this young man was playing at.

 

“Here they come,” Zhu Zi’an opened his eyes.

 

Hoofbeats sounded…as many as three hundred hoofbeats!

 

A sonorous shout cut through the fog:

 

“The Feathered Forest Guard is here! All people, lay down your weapons! Those bearing arms will be apprehended!”

 

Accompanying this bellow, three hundred cavalrymen and their horses surrounded Wangyue Tower entirely. The middle-aged man upfront wore proper official robes. Wind stirred his fluttering sleeve corners, like an ash-gray hunting eagle.

 

Head of the Ministry of War, Crown Prince’s Teacher, Ling Ye with courtesy name Boyang.

This had been Zhu Zi’an’s true goal all along. Taking the tower’s noble guests hostage wasn’t to threaten his enemy into letting them escape, but rather to escalate the gang feud and embroil the offspring of prominent clans, forcing the authorities to intervene in the martial world’s affairs.

 

Since the Golden Guard refused to act, the Feathered Forest Guard would step in instead. Early on when both sides initially clashed, a slender youth had fled Wangyue Tower to kneel for a long time at the yamen entrance, begging the authorities to save his mother trapped inside.

 

That child was Xiaochen, the mother was A-Rong.

 

Ever since the autumn hunt incident, the court had secretly moved to crack down on the martial forces. Using this gang feud as justification, Crown Prince Teacher Ling Ye’s assistance allowed the Feathered Forest Guard to conduct a thorough inspection of Wangyue Tower…and conveniently clear out the influence Crown Prince Qi Wang had stealthily cultivated over many years.

 

This scheme was Jiang Kui and Zhu Zi’an’s combined stratagem – firstly, rescue Lady Bai; secondly, suppress the Black Beggars; thirdly, lure out the black-robed man; lastly, remove Crown Prince Qi’s influence. Killing four birds with one stone.

 

The look in the black-robed man’s eyes completely changed. Staring coldly at Zhu Zi’an for a moment, he asked in a low voice: “Just who are you? Do you have connections in the Feathered Forest Guard?”

 

Zhu Zi’an smiled and shot back: “Do you have people among the Golden Guard?”

 

The black-robed man didn’t reply, just gave a cold snort before shouting loudly atop the roof: “Retreat!”

 

Zhu Zi’an also called down: “Retreat!”

 

The human tide receded swiftly, the clanging of weapons falling to the ground was deafening.

 

The three hundred Feathered Forest Guards began clearing the scene, investigating and detaining suspicious individuals one by one while placating the shivering guests. Both sides retreated amidst the chaos, countless shadows leaping over buildings.

 

Zhu Zi’an leapt down from the high wall carrying Jiang Kui. A carriage with light green canopy and white horse silently waited by the wall base.

 

He placed the unconscious girl inside first before staggering as he tried to enter himself, stumbling back several steps.

 

Bracing against the carriage side and barely holding himself up, he seemed to be rapidly losing strength. Coughing lightly, his grip went slack, body inch by inch sliding down.

 

“Your Highness!” Luo Shiyi flipped down from atop the wall, rushing to support his shoulders.

 

“It’s fine,” he said with eyes shut. “Lower your voice, don’t let her hear.”

 

Luo Shiyi whispered: “Your Highness…Doctor Shen repeatedly warned to not easily expend inner force…”

 

“Don’t worry about me,” Zhu Zi’an glanced at him with a chuckle. “I know my limits.”

 

After a few deep breaths, he gradually recovered and bent down to enter the carriage. Luo Shiyi leapt into the coachman’s seat, cracking the whip to spur the white horse. “Ya!”

 

Zhu Zi’an leaned against carriage wall, shutting his eyes once more as he fiercely resisted the oncoming exhaustion and chill.

 

The rumbling carriage wheels sounded for a long time until the pattering rain ceased. A crack of light filtered through the clouds, shining softly on his tranquil countenance.

 

After another long while, Jiang Kui woke from her faint, properly regulating her breathing before opening her eyes.

 

The carriage faintly smelled of white plum blossoms and the scents of rain giving way to sunny skies. Across from her, Zhu Zi’an rested his chin on hand, watching her wake with a smile. Seeing her conscious, he tilted his head teasingly. “Brother Jiang the hero, impressive skills today, truly admirable.”

 

“Don’t change the subject,” Jiang Kui humphed. “I have a question for you.”

 

Zhu Zi still smiling: “Please ask, Brother.”

 

Jiang stared into his eyes. “Who taught you that palm art?”

 

Zhu Zi’an’s gaze fell. “It’s who you think,” he answered softly.

 

His palm just now was called Homecoming Palm. Gentle and balanced for both attack and defense, quite difficult to recognize as it looked ordinary on the surface.

 

But Jiang Kui identified it from the inner energy Zhu Zi’an passed to her. This was her Master’s palm art, the inner force her Master cultivated. Learning it required extremely deep inner force foundations. Her Master only ever taught personal disciples.

 

Jiang Kui hadn’t learned this palm herself, merely cultivating the inner force. With varied, impure learning, her Master hoped she would focus completely on spear mastery. Hence, only passing down spear skills and inner cultivation, no other teachings.

 

Yet Zhu Zi’an had learned both Homecoming Palm and the face-changing art…

 

An odd yet convincing guess surfaced in her mind.

 

She said slowly: “I was his first disciple. Could it be…you are…”

 

“Mm,” he affirmed.

 

He gazed at her for a long time before gradually smiling, mouth curving up gently yet sneakily with a hint of mischief.

 

Calling her, “Senior sister.”

 

Then rocking with the quaking carriage, he reached over to gently place his palm atop her head.

 

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