In the eyes of most people, Qiannian was merely an ordinary commoner surviving in the lower continents through skills learned in the military and as a hunter. The story of him latching onto the mighty Yinn House during a mission seemed to many just another fortunate youth gaining favor from noble clans—common and unremarkable.
Yet the situation changed after Qiannian, single-handedly and leveraging the extraordinary range of the sniper rifle called Ying Ji, snatched away half the prey that Zhao House deserved to claim. That he remained unscathed to this day transformed public chatter—now praising Qi Qi for her astute selection of this hidden gem, someone excavated from the depths of Eternal Night Continent.
Truly speaking, chance did dominate this turn of events. Yet the Empire has always focused solely on results and dismissed process; thus, fortune has long been considered as part of strength.
When everyone heard of the conflict between Qiannian and Zhao Junhong, amusement sparked. Mostly folk laughed at how poorly Junhong’s team was configured—strangely without anyone armed with significant shooting range. This wasn’t exactly a flaw though, as who could predict that the Yinn House would bring along a sniper possessing a rifle reaching near one thousand meters. Such super-long-range snipers unleash their greatest potential on open battlefields—while each powerful house holds such snipers in their ranks, few see the purpose in assigning them solely as bodyguards.
Moreover, although the Spring Hunt mimics the chaos of war conditions, it still differs from actual battlefields entirely different nature. A hunting team numbered barely nine; even entering undaunted into the final melee among each clan’s competition, it simply doesn’t provide the scale needed to unleash a sniper’s true capability. The problem is, in every setting and environment, snipers always serve as priority targets due to the overwhelming threat each pose.
Deep within the mountains of the Skydark Range, where noble hunting teams camped, updated intelligence arrived alongside support provisions, prompting subtle changes among the teams—at least, except Zhao’s detachment.
Standing at the far peak afar, Zhao Junhong gazed into the distance, and by now, he was no longer furious.
Only three guards remained at his side. From this group originally, three had withdrawn severely wounded while two were nursing wounds back at a makeshift encampment—unlikely to return within these days. Zhao had always refused to take notice of anything below F-class weapons. He never imagined, though, that simple-issue gear—standard army ordnance—would leave him in such an awkward predicament. Never in shame would Zhao admit: Ying Ji could wield this power exclusively because of the skill and ability its user embodied.
Junhong ceased hunting down Qiannian, and Qiannian likewise ceased directly ambushing the Zhao squad. Both seemed to share a mutual, unspoken understanding, albeit one steeped in reluctant bitterness. Despite it however, Qiannian openly contested their gains and remained locked in competition with them, seizing every available moment.
He once believed having retained four team members meant he would perhaps suffer only modest drops in scores from Qiannian. And yet, Zhao had made yet another oversight—four pistols effective only to two-hundred-meter ranges stood no chance before Qiannian’s sniping masterpiece at one thousand, two hundred meters. The young man’s extraordinary mastery of the rifle astounded Junhong further every moment Ying Ji echoed through the mountains.
The following evening, many teams—including aristocratic solo hunters—shared one singular topic:
“What? Are we the top ranking now?” Nangong Wanyun exclaimed, clearly disbelieving. Heir to the Shuiyi Nangong, onlookers often described Miss Nangong as gentle and charming, so demure that even during rest periods she changed into a beautiful dress. Yet judging from the team’s continued progression toward this point today, behind the soft façade lay a willpower as strong and cunning as that of any valiant commander.
Wanyun was silent a long moment and then declared firmly, “We’ll reduce our hunting tempo starting from tomorrow. Focus should turn to defense—we must install additional ambush traps along the perimeter and be vigilant of our replenishment routes.”
Tall, youthful male beside her, her younger brother mused as asked, “Sister, are…you saying this is the work of the Khung Household?”
“In short, yes! Kong Ya Nian simply refuses to fall behind my team’s advancement. Yet if he dares attack us directly, even his boldness falters—he prefers underhanded treachery and likely plans to sabotage our supply logistics.”
A frown appeared on his brow, “Then, does that mean we’re constantly watching out forever? Meanwhile, should Kong’s force never arrive, wouldn’t first spot just disappear through overcautiousness for naught?”
Even Wanyun winced slightly, asking, “What would you suggest as better?”
With inspiration sparking in his eye, he replied, “So no matter if Kong House comes or not to disrupt, let *us* hit **their** supply line first, what do you say? If we do that, then they must respond—and at minimum—we are assured not to be beaten!”
Wanyun beamed appreciatingly, “Excellent idea—act swiftly! Follow those guarding them, strike immediately upon locating vulnerable routes! Also—take care regarding Yinn Household, they have hunters stationed not far from our zone; why not consider eliminating theirs altogether too?”
“A brilliant plan!”
But suddenly, Wanyun stopped abruptly—her face tightened—as if struck by sudden understanding: she gasped aloud, “Withdraw that last notion; avoid conflict with their sniper team for now!”
Her puzzled gaze sought answers.
Rolling her eyes slightly with exasperation at his naïveté, she reminded— “Could you possibly have *forgotten*? The boy Qian, with such skill singlehanded crippling *Zhao* so badly. If the battle shifts here—won’t it be far easier for him destroy OUR hunters?! Not counting the fact…if Miss Qi sends him hunting OUR trail in revenge…?”
He finally caught on—his mind racing—“Unless…unless we create a new problem for Qian instead—like drawing him into conflict with someone else first. What about house Wei?” Before hesitantly correcting, as if realizing something: “Oh…too far. How about宋 next to Zhao’s position instead?”
Wanyun now frowned herself. “The idea is good, but how do we actually accomplish it? Miss Qi, well known for erratic decisions…we can only play that unpredictability smartly somehow…”
Meanwhile across the forest’s distant edge, a temporary base rose from the terrain—a rudinary encampment of few small tents. Within bent over an old lamp, hunched figures pouring over battlecharts.
Dark-eyed, focused, young aristocrat—this brooding presence belonged to Khong Yanian from House Khong.
Within the clan, young master Khong had a reputation for clever stratagems, even if marred only briefly by middling talent for martial study. A disadvantage serious enough to leave him languishing among these hills while their second eldest brother—thick of wit and brute—but blessed superior potential was away taking part directly within Imperial Gardens hunting ritual. Not so subtly different in disposition from his rival We Fatien, his brother matched only closely by slight drop-off skill in raw power.
On parchment, Yanian had inked updated hunting ranges of rival factions; multiple directional arrows marked junior clan members’ approximate hunting positions within those same territories.
From dim torchlight emerged an aide to him, proposing eagerly:
“Young Master, it’s time. Perhaps strike behind Wanhun’s position?”
“Eliminate Wanyun’s supply and survival ends soon; our victory secure. Yes?”
Khong slowly shook his head and dismissed this, answering slowly, “Underestimating them. Rival factions can deal sufficient harm to Wanyun’s position, no assistance from us needed for that…no. More crucially—what about this mysterious hunter who gave F5000 House’s squad their most humiliating setback ever—*this Qian*… isn’t he more interesting?”
The aide blinked: “Recruitment maybe, young Master? But this Qian, we may fail. Belonging as this talent now seemingly does with Inn Family?”
Khong snorted, “Recruit a mere D ranked hunter? Don’t insult our standards.”
“Your meaning……eliminate?” his aide’s expression startled.
“Destroy him,” Khong confirmed.
“What gain does that secure?”
“Fifth rank nothing aside—the lad humiliated Zhao Junhong so severely. We help erase his thorn—Zhao’s grudge turns gratitude—*profit*” he explained dryly.
“But if so wouldn’t…Zhao rise even high—topping this season?”
“We won? Not at present rate. With our limited capability, under normal circumstances—topping never our fate. Thus better relinquish something never ours in the first place. Do not chase greed—calculate advantage.”
A sudden, dawning enlightenment lit up the aide’s visage.
Khong snapped his fingers: “Bring someone with field marksmanship experience along with tracking abilities—you. Discreet suggestion toward others—let lesser gentry aware and motivated. Ensure he’s taken down before Zhao, by any means—**at absolute minimum** disrupt his proximity long enough until separated from Zhao vicinity. Remainders of the detachment follow me. We cannot fall in points ourselves either.”
“Brilliant strategy, Young Master!!!”
At numerous rival aristocracy encampments that moonlit eve ran parallel thought processes across different regions. Almost to man they weighed this very option: *Remove the Inn Sniper operating unguarded alone*—partially in hope endearing themselves more toward Zhao. But mostly out of recognition: the sniper was becoming too effective against their host that—given his prolonged interference—the next step must come soon or Zhao risks serious conflict with outside factions, perhaps endangering their standing among powerful noble houses otherwise.
However, should this lone operative abandon his pursuit and shift focus upon their hunting contingents, problems multiplied—particularly how his abilities seemingly transcend the weak classification of his official rank. Despite official profile marking him at E-rank level—only a skilled, even masterclass expert could elude an entire hunting team the way he had from Zhao’s.
Few hunting groups possessed even remotely similar sniper talent within one-mile distances. Should similar precision removal attacks eliminate key snipers across enemy teams, Zhao House’s plight—humiliation through prolonged evasion—would reoccur within all contingents.
Moreover, Spring’s Hunting season traditionally culminated in intense inter-clan team combats, all deploying various covert ways to undermine the opposition by eliminating most threatening individuals. For opportunistic strikes to preempt snipers now would not be unusual—only early perhaps.
Zhao tented quietly at their field headquarters, sharpening blades and fastening armor straps while attending to news reports from his guard concerning shifting hunting movements among their adversaries.
Upon hearing details that several enemy parties moved into disputed zones toward them now, only grim coldness passed over his features—never so much as uttering sound to betray thoughts. However, when further told how even individual elite scions—scenting opportunity—gathered toward the same location…Zhao finally stirred.
“Pathetic vermin, plotting and scheming.” Disdain dripped from his words.
The guard, catching the lack of emotion or anger upon the young master’s stern expression wisely chose to say no more as he retreated swiftly.
Back inside Song House encamp—Ye Muelan poured over fresh intercepted intel—fire burning in her eyes. Deep within, every clue and name on the page confirmed recognition. Who was Qian Xiaoyi? Or should her words reflect what truly burned—*Who else but THAT man*? The mere thought sent adrenaline pulsing.
It was days back now, first reading initial reports from their analysts identifying Yinn Hunting Team members, Ye instantly recognized Qi Qi’s manipulations and intentions at large—a deliberate provocation meant targeting the Song family’s pride.
Back then, Qian ambushed them. Ambushed *HER*, and had near-ensued fatality in that struggle. That memory kept her wide-eyed in nightmare for several sleepless nights thereafter.
Yet, she understood perfectly the political balance still required silence here: *her* personal trauma remained unfit for retelling to Song House’s higher echelons—especially since this entanglement might strain their already delicate alliances with Inn family relations as well.
Even if she still hadn’t decided how, she long wanted to tell Song Zi’ning the whole tragic truth regarding everything involving the dangerous man—now called Qiannian. Now…fate delivered a perfect opportunity upon his own hands. Provoking the House of Zhao…had guaranteed a deadly retaliation.
Once composing herself before entering camp, Ye re-entered—placed all collected profiles, battle logs, personnel intelligence—on Song family heir’s table.
Zining glanced up, puzzled over Ye’s hesitant expression as he flipped through sheets casually. Gradually though—his own countenance darkened. Softer in nature compared, the young lord still retained an iron will within—and now, it simmered like molten lava barely contained.
From behind him slowly, Ye wrapped her slender arms around his neck. In an even yet subtly urgent whisper, she pressed, “Zi ning… this is the best time to act…to eliminate their sniper.”
He felt Song’s muscles tense under her hands so, and she further hushed:
“If we move fast—we secure two outcomes—one by preventing a long battle over scores when the tournament enters the last phase. Second: it shows Zhao clan favor, earning future goodwill for Song House.”
As she felt Song Zi’ning begin stirring to thought once again, the question left his lips, soft, but filled deep curiosity…
“Tell me why…would such elimination matter now?”
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