Guo Jiang sensed the three assassins before Wen Ju heard anything behind the carriage. Their qi signatures were weaker than before, disturbed by internal injury, yet the speed of their approach made one thing obvious. They had chosen to return. Guo Jiang opened his eyes and looked through the rear opening. The road curved between stone walls, leaving the pursuers only a few practical lines of approach if they wanted to catch the moving carriage without wasting more strength. Wen Ju heard the first scrape of a shoe against stone and turned his head slightly. "Young Master Chen, are those people coming again?" "Keep driving," Guo Jiang said. "Do not slow the horse." The answer chilled the old coachman more than panic would have done. He faced forward and tightened the reins while the horse continued over the uneven road. Behind them, Rong Cui led the pursuit. H

The old carriage climbed the winding road toward Yin Hua Hill as late afternoon light spread across Jinhung City below. Its faded panels and worn wheels looked almost out of place against the increasingly grand surroundings, where stone terraces, raised roofs, and carved ridge ornaments announced that the road had entered the domain of someone whose authority reached far beyond an ordinary clan estate. Wen Ju guided the horse carefully over the steeper section while Guo Jiang watched through the carriage opening. From this height, the city stretched beneath them in layered rooftops and four-story buildings, their pointed eaves catching the last gold of the sun. Farther ahead stood Qin Qigang's mansion, positioned with the confidence of a residence that did not need to hide its importance. Defensive walls followed the contour of the hill, watch posts overlooked the approaches, and the main gate had been built wide enough

The night over Yin Hua Hill grew colder as clouds crossed the moon and wind moved through the trees around Qin Qigang's mansion. Lanterns along the perimeter wall lit stone paths, guard posts, and guardian figures placed at intervals along the three-meter wall. Cao Jian walked the patrol route with nine other soldiers and checked each station more carefully than most. At twenty-seven, he had recently graduated from a martial academy and had served at the Eastern Sage Mansion for barely two months, making him determined not to seem careless. During the Xu period, nothing unusual happened. The patrol checked gate locks, lantern oil, weapons at two wall posts, and reports from the previous shift. Feng, one of the more experienced men in the group, handled the routine with practiced confidence. He was not lazy, but years of uneventful patrols had taught him that strange shadows were usually branches, animals, or nervous imag

Tie closed the remaining distance with both hands curved like hooked talons, his shoulders turning just enough to drive force through the fingertips instead of wasting it in a wide motion. The Dragon Claw aimed directly at Guo Jiang's chest, where a successful grip could tear through muscle and disrupt the qi pathways beneath. Guo Jiang did not retreat. A length of hemp rope slipped from behind his sleeve and moved across the air in a smooth curve, guided by a thread of qi running through the braided fibers. Tie thought the same thing. He committed the right claw fully and prepared the left to seize Guo Jiang if the rope wrapped around his first hand. The rope met the outer edge of his fingers. Instead of snapping, it yielded just enough to avoid taking the entire force head-on. Guo Jiang changed the tension through a small turn of his wrist, and the qi entering the rope redirected Tie's pressure alo