Eunuch Ma was somewhat helpless. Like Commander Qian, he had no choice but to tap his acupoints with a flick of his fingers. The sleeve-blade was poisoned, and while it didn’t seem immediately fatal, given the frenzied, suicidal determination of these madmen, it might as well have been—just a matter of time.
Even if the Qingma Post of Bei’an Town and the capital’s elite cavalry flattened this tavern afterward, what good would it do for the situation?
The game of chess unfolding on the third floor of this tavern might very well stir the winds and clouds of the entire world.
With the screens in front and to the right of Chief Eunuch Liu now gone, the remaining one stood out starkly.
Eunuch Song, slinking up from his chair, seemed entirely justified in his actions. Faced with a situation where even his embroidered python robe and jade belt were useless, fleeing was only human nature.
At that moment, Chief Eunuch Liu frowned for the first time that night, setting down his wine cup and turning his gaze.
A chilling voice, neither too loud nor too soft, echoed in the ears of the three high-ranking eunuchs: “Daring to gather and kill so brazenly on the Northern Liang road? Do you think the Fish-Dragon Gang doesn’t exist?”
The owner of that voice soon revealed himself as the screen split down the middle—cleaved by a single hand-chop.
Liu Nirong made no move to stop her trusted subordinate from interfering in this inexplicable turmoil.
Though she didn’t know the full story behind this assassination attempt, the earlier mention of “capital eunuch dogs” had already alerted her to the unusual nature of the affair. Over the years, as the nominal leader of the Fish-Dragon Gang, she had dealt extensively with officials across Northern Liang. She knew that this grand procession from Tai’an City into Liangzhou to deliver an imperial decree—regardless of the stance of the Prince of Liang’s residence at Cool Breeze Mountain—could not afford to have those specially robed eunuchs die in public. Otherwise, not only would the young emperor of the Liyang Zhao clan, who had already made concessions to the 300,000 Northern Liang cavalry, be furious, but the world’s opinion would also overwhelmingly question the intentions of the Xu family of Northern Liang.
As the nominal leader of the Fish-Dragon Gang, Liu Nirong had dealt with officials across Northern Liang over the years. Though it was tiresome, her vision and insight were no longer those of the woman she had been years ago. The Fish-Dragon Gang, as the unrivaled leader of Northern Liang’s martial world, no matter how powerful, was still a dragon thrashing in the lake of Northern Liang. Even if they didn’t bow to the Prince of Liang’s residence with absolute loyalty, in such a sensitive moment, facing a bloodthirsty situation just steps away, there was no reason to stand idly by. Thus, Liu Nirong wouldn’t stop her subordinate from acting. In fact, she understood that in such a complex and murky situation, swift and decisive action was necessary!
Sitting at the same table as Liu Nirong was Ji Liu’an, the chief guest elder of the Dragon Palace. As a martial grandmaster whose strength dominated a region, he could see that the eunuchs from Tai’an City had reached a pitiful state of exhaustion. Even if the remaining five assassins were, in his eyes, nothing more than a rabble, they might still succeed in the chaos. With a nod from Palace Master Lin Hongyuan, Ji Liu’an smiled faintly and waved his hand. Five white porcelain wine cups on the table spun into the air before him, twirling with an almost spiritual grace, their light collisions producing crisp, melodious chimes—like five chirping little white sparrows.
The cups vanished in a flash.
The next moment, before the five assassins could even approach Eunuch Ma and Commander Qian, their heads snapped back, and they collapsed to the ground.
Each of the five unfortunate souls had a bright red mark on their foreheads.
With the screen gone, Eunuch Ma and Commander Qian could now see the five wine cups return to the table, trembling slightly as if boasting of their achievement.
Eunuch Ma narrowed his eyes, expressionless.
Commander Qian, holding his imperial-gifted golden saber upside down, turned and cupped his hands in gratitude toward Ji Liu’an.
What should have been the end of this bloody affair took an unexpected turn due to a hidden move by someone, making it all the more thrilling.
Liu Nirong’s face paled in shock.
Even Lin Hongyuan, who had been watching with detached amusement, was momentarily stunned, her pretty face flashing with the vexation of playing with fire—and the unease hidden deep in her autumn-water eyes.
Cheng Baishuang, the top martial artist of the Southern Border, who resembled an aged scholar, furrowed his brows, anger clearly etched between them.
The old man had been pondering a matter concerning the fate of the nation, which was why he had been momentarily distracted.
No one had expected that the Fish-Dragon Gang’s subordinate who had gone to “rescue” the eunuchs would suddenly strike the fat eunuch who had just shakily risen to his feet—with a palm aimed squarely at his head!
Given how effortlessly he had split the screen like tofu with a single hand-chop, wouldn’t this palm strike crush the eunuch’s skull with equal ease?
Mao Shulang, who had seemed to be drinking quietly with his head lowered, had already gripped his saber’s hilt—only to suddenly release it.
Mao Shulang’s decision to abandon his interception left Cheng Baishuang unprepared.
With neither of the Southern Border’s two grandmasters acting, it seemed certain that blood would soon spill.
Yet, the deranged subordinate of the Fish-Dragon Gang did indeed bring his palm down—only to fail in his mission.
Because his arm was severed.
Thus, the severed hand that landed on Chief Eunuch Song’s head looked more like an affectionate pat from an elder to a child.
Behind a distant screen, a blind female zither player sat before an ancient, scorched-tail guqin, her pinky finger curled.
In pure mastery of the Finger Mystic realm, she ranked firmly among the top three in the world.
Unconvinced?
This was the final judgment of a certain grandmaster of the martial rankings.
The top three were: Deng Tai’a, who had long ascended to the realm of terrestrial immortals; Han Shengxuan, the “Human Cat,” who had once excelled at killing Heavenly Phenomena with Finger Mystic techniques; and then this blind woman, utterly unknown in the Central Plains’ martial world.
The zither player who had entered Western Shu from the Northern Desert—Xue Songguan.
Chief Eunuch Liu glanced at his colleague, who had just returned from the brink of death with a dazed expression. Under the chief eunuch’s prolonged gaze, the latter finally shed his comically amateurish demeanor and smirked—darkly, confidently, saying everything without words.
Only then did Eunuch Ma realize that this seemingly laughable colleague was, in fact, a martial expert no weaker than himself.
Tonight’s dizzying game of mantis stalking the cicada, unaware of the oriole behind—and the countless hidden hands that had acted or refrained from acting—was there no end to it?
Eunuch Ma’s mood was complicated.
A wailing voice suddenly erupted: “Wh-what… what the hell is going on here?!”
In the corridor between the private rooms, a middle-aged man in fine clothes looked as if he had lost both parents, his face ashen. “So many people dead! How are we supposed to run a business now?!”
Then, spotting Liu Nirong’s frosty expression, his despair deepened, as if he had lost his parents and then his son. “Chief Manager, please listen to me! These people killing each other—it has nothing to do with me! This is a disaster beyond my control…”
Eunuch Ma glanced at the man, then fixed his cold stare on Liu Nirong. “What a Fish-Dragon Gang!”
Eunuch Song, rubbing his neck, added with a smirk, “What a Northern Liang Fish-Dragon Gang, you mean.”
Liu Nirong’s face turned deathly pale.
The young subordinate beside her burned with fury, murderous intent blazing in his eyes.
Zhao Shanhong, the “Shattering Fist,” watched with schadenfreude.
This chaotic yet thrilling assassination—whether Liu Nirong had acted under Cool Breeze Mountain’s orders or not—was irrelevant to him. All he knew was that after its failure, whether Liu Nirong was innocent or not no longer mattered. The Fish-Dragon Gang, at the height of its power in Northern Liang, would soon undergo a major purge. A new reign brings new ministers—and as for whether Liu Nirong would even survive to pack her bags and leave, she might as well pray to the Bodhisattva for mercy.
Liu Nirong offered no explanation to the two high-ranking eunuchs. Instead, she turned to the tavern’s deputy manager, who was wailing like a bereaved son. “Guo Xuan, I’ll ask you just once: Did you have any part in tonight’s events?”
The middle-aged man named Guo Xuan was a veteran of the new Fish-Dragon Gang, with seniority surpassing even Zhao Shanhong and the young subordinate who had joined two years prior. Though his martial skills were mediocre, he excelled in commerce, quickly rising through the ranks to become the deputy manager of this tavern in Bei’an Town—effectively its true leader. At the time, this transfer had been seen as exile, as Guo Xuan was one of the few in the gang loyal to Liu Nirong. He had even shared drinks with the gang’s “retired emperor,” the old chief. His humiliating departure from Lingzhou was, in essence, a microcosm of Liu Nirong’s marginalization. No one had expected Guo Xuan—with no soldiers, no followers, and little money—to make a comeback in Bei’an Town and reclaim a place in the Fish-Dragon Gang’s upper echelons. Yet he had quickly proven them wrong. The tavern and the brothel next door thrived under his management, earning Liu Nirong’s gratitude. She had even planned to promote him next year to a position of real power within the gang—one that, while not high in rank, would control half of its business dealings.
Guo Xuan, nearly in tears, protested, “Chief Liu, I’m just a commoner with no strength to tie up a chicken! Why would I throw away a business making mountains of gold to kill people?!”
The scheming Eunuch Song smiled innocently. “Chief Manager, Deputy Manager—are you playing good cop, bad cop? Isn’t it a bit late for that?”
Outside the tavern, the thunder of hooves echoed through the streets.
The battlefield Aura of Slaughter of advancing cavalry was entirely different from the Aura of Slaughter of a martial grandmaster who could challenge a nation alone—yet both were equally capable of shattering the courage of the martial world.
Just then, a warm, amused voice, utterly out of place, filled the entire third floor: “Eunuch Song, you can’t say that. Otherwise, we’ll have to charge you for tonight’s green-ant wine.”
The voice came from right beside Guo Xuan, yet he had no idea how someone had appeared next to him.
Already furious, Guo Xuan felt as if this stranger had deliberately thrown him into the fire. His face twisted in anger as he turned. “Charge my ass! Whether this tavern’s green-ant wine costs money or not is up to me!”
Then he saw a handsome young face.
And then he noticed the man’s hands tucked into his sleeves—and the Northern Liang saber hanging at his waist.
In today’s Northern Liang, no young scion dared to wear a Liang saber privately.
Not a single one.
Those brave enough to try were either still in prison or had already served their time.
Now, aside from border troops and stationed forces, only two types of people in Northern Liang were permitted by Cool Breeze Mountain to openly wear Liang sabers:
Those who had achieved outstanding military merit but left the army.
And veterans from the old battalions.
These were almost all old men—or those in their prime who had transitioned into officialdom as regional governors.
The young man smiled at Guo Xuan, then swept his gaze around before saying lightly:
“In Northern Liang, I’m the one who decides.”
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