Chapter 220
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 220
Chapter Title: Chapter 60. Rift (2)
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The attendant who had been chattering away until just moments ago suddenly slumped to the ground without a sound, revealing an assassin standing right behind him. In the assassin's hand gleamed a dagger freshly coated in crimson lacquer.
Thud.
The man with the eight-character mustache recoiled in haste, his hand flying to the sword at his waist. But the moment his fingers closed around the hilt, the bewilderment in his eyes rapidly settled into resolve.
Shing~
As he drew his sword, he cast a quick glance at his attendant sprawled motionless on the cold floor. No signs of stirring—it looked like instant death. Turning his gaze to the assassin, he demanded in fury,
"Who are you?"
His question seemed to serve as the signal, for the assassin lunged forward without a word.
Tat-tat-tat.
It was reckless.
Charging headlong like that, aiming to settle the fight in one go—wasn't that underestimating his opponent far too much?
"How dare you," the words slipped unbidden from the mustachioed man's lips. With a bold step forward to meet the charge, he swung down his drawn sword to match the assassin's speed.
A faint mist trailed the blade as it slashed diagonally, lingering to form an afterimage along its path. Sword qi wrapped around the edge amplified its cutting power.
Scree—
As he brought the sword down, the mustachioed man mentally mapped out the next moves for each of the three possible reactions from his foe.
But the assassin's response defied all three scenarios. He seized the qi-infused blade barehanded. It was beyond comprehension.
'Sword qi... can be grabbed?'
Even as shock rippled through him, the mustachioed man reflexively swung his left hand to bat away the assassin's thrusting dagger.
Unfortunately, his counter fell squarely within the assassin's expectations.
Poke. Poke. Poke. Stab—
The dagger darted in short, precise jabs, shredding the mustachioed man's left hand into a ragged mess in an instant. Then it plunged into his side.
A fatal strike.
With a flex of his left hand, the assassin snapped the mustachioed man's sword clean in two. That left hand gleamed like polished ivory marble, and from it emanated a strange floral fragrance.
It was the Jade Hand Technique, a lost supreme art said to be extinct.
Thus, the assassin had concealed a lethal strike within an obvious attack that nine out of ten would respond to similarly. He sealed the victory before his opponent could even notice, a perfect ambush.
Thud.
The mustachioed man dropped to one knee, speechless. A hole punctured through his lung made even breathing excruciating.
***
A little over fifteen minutes later, Ui emerged alone from a dark alley, her expression far from satisfied. She hadn't heard what she wanted.
'Just a surprise mock training exercise for inspection purposes?'
Ui shook her head.
The mustachioed man had seemed genuinely convinced of it. Few could maintain such composure and lie so convincingly even in the face of death's terror, and she doubted he was one of them.
So if his account was true, she was committing a grave blunder born of misunderstanding. Yet she hoped it was just that. Among the dire possibilities, it was the one with the cheapest price to pay.
***
The mustachioed man had spilled many facts.
He was one of the ten squad leaders in Lion Hall's patrol division, and he'd only learned of this surprise inspection from headquarters the day before.
All those mobilized for the training came from minor organizations under Lion Hall. They were dispersed across the five sects currently using Palro Hall as a muster point, with more still trickling in. So far, about five hundred warriors had gathered, aiming for double that—a thousand strong.
A thousand warriors.
Starting at noon, they would man every key pass for a full twelve hours, conducting spot checks on travelers—that was the gist.
***
But Ui's instincts whispered it wouldn't end there.
Assume for argument's sake that the mustachioed man and the conscripted warriors truly believed it was just training. But what if their superiors issuing the orders had ulterior motives?
Why would the higher-ups lie to their underlings?
Not out of concern for their scrutiny, surely. But those at the top had their own headaches—like fearing rivals of equal stature might catch on. Spies lurked everywhere, after all.
'Right, so they're blocking the passes with a thousand clueless warriors. To delay or prevent immediate intervention from other factions. Buy time to pull off... something.'
It made sense.
The event's overseer was reportedly Doh Yang-sa of the Dividing Light Sword. As captain of Lion Hall's Chang'an defense force, he fit for mock drills, but known as the epitome of an honest warrior—hardly suited for scheming.
Then who?
Ui knew plenty about Lion Hall, the largest information network in Shaanxi as a high-ranking member of the Western Bureau. She immediately recalled which faction Doh Yang-sa aligned with.
'Narok Blade Ho Yeon-sang!'
***
Ho Yeon-sang was the Lion Hall master's chief disciple, currently acting as proxy leader in the master's absence.
The world saw him as boldly magnanimous, but intelligence painted him as a ruthless ambitious schemer, deeply political.
And a tremendous master.
Already hailed alongside Yeo Hwi of Thousand Autumn Spear as the "Twin Dragons" of their generation, unmatched by peers. But Western Bureau analysis pegged him even higher.
To put it bluntly, he'd been one of Martial Qin Alliance's five top experts dispatched for the decisive battle at Yeonman Plains. That meant he stood shoulder-to-shoulder with his master, Gwak Bu-ui the Wanderer Blade, or Ho Chi Wang Baek-gun of Dance Melody Manor.
(*Originally, the Yeonman Plains duel called for ten from each side. But Martial Qin Alliance secured five elite aces from allies, letting them field only five.)
All told, Ho Yeon-sang had the makings of a hero. Much like his master Gwak Bu-ui.
***
As Ui's thoughts turned to Ho Yeon-sang, she recalled how his position had lately grown shaky. Many still saw him as the next Lion Hall master, but his master's daughter—the Face Pursuit Squad leader Gwak Nan-hoe—was surging ahead relentlessly.
Viewed that way, this was a power struggle.
'Is Ho Yeon-sang playing a desperate gambit? Using his proxy authority. Mobilizing all those warriors to pin down forces backing or neutral to Gwak Nan-hoe... but what does he gain?'
Ui decided she needed to confirm it.
Right away!
Conveniently, she knew where Ho Yeon-sang and his inner circle were gathered—from interrogating the mustachioed man. He'd been en route to report on Geum-ok Seon-ja when ambushed.
That made Ho Yeon-sang a suspect as Geum-ok Seon-ja's backer.
Plenty to ponder there, but Ui's mind had no room now. Her own feet were already aflame. Besides, all these threads shared a root—follow one, reach the truth.
Anyway, the venue was the City That Never Sleeps.
A place bustling like midday even at night, thriving especially after dark as day and night flipped. The adult playground that set self-proclaimed playboys' hearts ablaze—Chang'an's most lavish brothel.
Ho Yeon-sang had rented the entire City That Never Sleeps, carousing wildly with his cronies. Whatever the good news—or scheme.
'Maybe plotting some "good deed" as cover. Perfect excuse to meet shady contacts away from prying eyes.'
***
Ui first compiled her findings into a coded missive and dispatched it to the nearest Western Bureau outpost. Then, dragging her weary body, she headed for the City That Never Sleeps. Dawn was less than an hour away, and she aimed to wrap her probe by then.
No easy task.
Her destination crawled with Lion Hall elites led by Narok Blade Ho Yeon-sang—a dragon's den and tiger's lair. No matter her skills, getting caught sneaking in meant no survival. Among her past exploits, this ranked top-tier difficulty.
But she had to pull it off.
If her hunch held, a storm could upend Shaanxi's Jianghu. And her precarious Western Bureau crew—mere mayflies—might get swept away in the wreckage.
When whales clash, shrimp shells crack.
***
Over a hundred Lion Hall warriors ringed the City That Never Sleeps in triple layers of security. Even the world's Ui would struggle to approach. But she bided her time relentlessly, slipping through a single lapse after half an hour's wait.
Impenetrable guard, but human after all—a gap born of flesh. Victory from patience.
Ui ducked straight into the courtesans' dressing room, disguised herself, then roamed the interior posing as one.
Throngs came and went.
Among them, Lion Hall and Martial Qin Alliance folk, even officials. And renowned Jianghu masters she recognized.
Red Eyebrow Ape King, Heaven-Flipping Twin Freaks, Nangong brothers of the Azure Firmament House, Iron Mountain Four Gentlemen, and more.
A mix of white-path, black-path, even dubious sorts like the Heaven-Flipping Twin Freaks suspected of demonic ties.
In a word, a motley stew.
Ui divided the bizarre gathering into two camps: those genuinely reveling, and those merely attending and waiting. That's when it clicked.
'The waiters—they're the blade Ho Yeon-sang plans to wield tonight. The revelers... showing off their might and connections? To let fence-sitters decide after witnessing?'
Quite the intriguing affair.
But Ui's focus tonight lay elsewhere. She sighed at the warriors blocking the stairs to the upper floor. Mountain after mountain. She'd scaled many today, yet another loomed.
'To glimpse that bastard's face, I'll need to infiltrate upstairs? Made it this far somehow... can I really pull it off?'