The last echo of the assassin’s scream faded into the cold night wind. Xuan Wuwei flicked his fingers, sending the blood from his blade into the gutter before sliding it back into its sheath. Around him, the courtyard of the Zhennan Governor’s Residence lay in uneasy silence, the shadows stretching long under the moonlight. The guards, still pale from the earlier ambush, dared not meet his eyes.“Get these bodies out of my sight,” he ordered flatly. His voice was quiet, but the tone cut sharper than steel.The captain of the guard stumbled forward, bowing. “Yes, Young Master Xuan!” He quickly signaled men to carry away the corpses of the masked killers, their uniforms already soaking the cobblestones in crimson.From the veranda, Lin Xiang’s voice called out, calm yet tinged with something unreadable. “Your efficiency hasn’t dulled.”Wuwei turned slightly, catching sight of the white-robed strategist sipping tea as if the attack had been a mere street performance. “Neither has your ha