Chapter 22

The blade flashed from its sheath with a sharp hum. In the blink of an eye, the Lotus Sword darted past the Fifth Prince’s waist with lethal speed, burying itself deep into the assassin’s flank.

Do not misunderstand; it was not because Xue Jin’an suddenly grew soft-hearted, nor was his swordsmanship so poor that he would miss at such close range.

Rather, the assassin—whether stunned by Xue Jin’an’s inhuman, brilliant maneuver or suffering a momentary system glitch—had unexpectedly exerted force in the opposite direction just as Xue Jin’an’s earth-shattering strike was about to pierce the Prince’s kidney. This move narrowly saved the hostage from the fatal blow.

"Pfft—" The sound of the blade biting into flesh echoed. Before the assassin could react, the Fifth Prince let out a muffled groan.

The shock in the assassin’s eyes had yet to fade as he subconsciously furrowed his brows.

"Useless trash! You’re getting in the way, get lost!" the assassin hissed, hurling the Fifth Prince aside like a sack of sand. Almost simultaneously, the carriage driver let out a cry and lunged forward, arms wide open to catch the falling royal.

In Xue Jin’an’s mind, a force analysis diagram instantly materialized. Combining the wind speed at his ears with data on the driver’s initial velocity and acceleration, he calculated the parabolic arc of the Fifth Prince in a split second: the landing point was perfectly aligned with the driver’s outstretched arms.

It was a perfect display of coordination, reminiscent of a high school physics problem—ideal for reviewing academic concepts. Xue Jin’an thought expressionlessly, his multi-threaded mechanical brain silently activating various functions. He simultaneously calculated the assassin's next trajectory while using high-definition cameras to capture every pore on the man's face.

Once the useless hostage was discarded, the assassin’s focus sharpened. It was as if he had closed all background applications to concentrate solely on clearing this one level.

He wore the uniform of a palace guard, having previously blended into the Imperial Guards. His face, now fully exposed, appeared entirely unremarkable—the kind of face Xue Jin’an’s image-recognition function would associate with hundreds of irrelevant passersby.

Fortunately, Xue Jin’an was not a mere human relying on the naked eye. He triggered his facial recognition software, only for the system to pop up an error box: [Please remove obstructions before scanning.]

Xue Jin’an understood. Looking back at the camera feed, he noticed a subtle, unnatural movement in the man's facial muscles. Once he focused on this, he quickly detected the traces of a synthetic skin mask.

It was the classic "face-changing" art found in martial arts novels—a disguise.

All these thoughts passed in a flash. The moment the assassin abandoned his hostage, Xue Jin’an, stone-faced, gripped his sword hilt with both hands, twisting and applying pressure. He threw his entire body weight forward, slamming into the assassin as if launching himself into an embrace.

Strike while the iron is hot; he did not hesitate for a second.

The assassin was a veteran of many battles. Seeing Xue Jin’an use both hands, he realized his intent and immediately reached out, gripping the boy’s wrists with enough force to crush bone, attempting to stop the blade through raw strength.

His logic was sound: as an adult who had practiced martial arts for years, he could not possibly lose in terms of brute force to a child who had barely grown his hair out. And indeed, he did briefly halt the sword’s momentum with his sheer strength. But he hadn't accounted for the devious nature of this child, who suddenly twisted the blade!

As the steel churned within his body, the searing pain caused his grip to slacken. Seizing the momentum of his own body weight, the boy drove the sword diagonally through the assassin.

The entire sequence was chillingly clean and decisive, as if it had been rehearsed countless times, including every reaction he might have offered. It was terrifying.

What was even more terrifying was that while this person was committing murder, he showed absolutely no emotion! He was as calm as stagnant water, as if taking a life were as mundane as plucking a flower.

Such vicious, fatal efficiency—this child was certainly no ordinary person. Was he a shadow guard? Yes, he must be! A secret weapon cultivated by the royal family, hidden deep within the palace! That explained everything.

The Emperor had hidden him deep indeed. Had he not decided to escalate matters by suddenly attacking the Prince, this man would never have been exposed. It was hardly surprising; the royals were all like that, seemingly born with an extra layer of cunning.

However, this young shadow guard was still too inexperienced. Killing him would be difficult, but as long as he could spread the word, this probe would not be a failure.

"Cough—" Having suffered organ damage, the assassin vomited a mouthful of blood as the metallic tang surged up his throat. Yet, a secret, subtle smile played on his lips. "You are good. What a pity."

A shadow guard whose identity was exposed, having even let his enemy escape—surely, death was the only outcome for him.

What a pity. The assassin couldn't help but feel a shred of regret for such a talent dying young.

Xue Jin’an, who understood human emotions only in theory: "...?"

*Is he provoking me?* Xue Jin’an’s doubt was confirmed in the next second.

The assassin pressed his hand onto Xue Jin’an’s shoulder and released a burst of internal energy, sending the boy flying. Holding his wound, the assassin’s movements were inevitably sluggish. With the vicious little shadow guard in front and reinforcements behind, he had no time to seal his pressure points to stop the bleeding. He activated his light-body technique, intent on fleeing.

But to his surprise, the strange little guard’s reflexes were far swifter than he had imagined. It was as if he knew every one of the assassin’s moves by heart. While mid-air, the boy adjusted his posture, his left toe touching the ground to pivot his body, his right leg extending backward, his upper body leaning forward, his legs stretched into a maximum-depth lunge—gathering force the instant he landed.

Then, he launched himself forward, charging straight at the assassin! The sweeping longsword seemed to have eyes of its own, precisely sealing off the assassin's path.

The assassin’s light-body technique was interrupted. Unable to retreat, he was dragged into a bitter struggle by Xue Jin’an. Dozens of moves were exchanged in the span of a single breath.

The assassin grew increasingly alarmed. To be honest, the little shadow guard’s martial prowess was not actually top-tier. His sword techniques were rudimentary, and some moves were clearly unsuited for a sword—looking more like techniques meant for a saber or spear. Even if the movements were standard and elegant, they lacked the power that came with true mastery, reaching a level he could easily dismantle without even thinking.

The little guard was young, thin, and lacking in internal energy; in a direct confrontation, he was no match. The assassin, fearing a pincer attack and desperate to escape to spread the news of the Emperor’s secret guards, had not been fighting to kill.

By all accounts, he shouldn't be in such a sorry state. Yet, eerily, the little guard seemed to see through his every thought. Every time he spotted an opening, the boy would perfectly seal his path, forcing him to react according to a set of rules.

A chill ran down the assassin’s spine. If all the Emperor’s shadow guards were at this level... He dared not think further. Knowing he was truly doomed if he delayed, he turned vicious and changed his tactics. Ignoring the blade lunging toward his wound once more, he channeled his internal energy and struck toward Xue Jin’an’s chest.

For the first time, Xue Jin’an’s calculations were disrupted. He frowned slightly as the safety-warning system in his mind blared alarms. Even though he felt this sudden change of tactics was erratic and incoherent, he retracted his sword to parry, retreating from the fray.

*Now!* The assassin feinted, activated his light-body technique, and fled.

The entire engagement lasted less than half a cup of tea. The Imperial Guards rushing to protect the study finally reacted, sending a detachment to capture the assassin. Behind them, the carriage driver gracefully spun, set the Fifth Prince down, and took up his weapon again, striking a pose. As the sound of a bowstring being drawn echoed, he shouted, "Your Highness, I come to your aid!"

*Whoosh—* Five arrows flew in a volley, all grazing the assassin’s heels before pinning firmly into the bluestone pavement.

It was as if this were a signal. Someone among the Imperial Guards shouted, "Fire! Dead or alive, it matters not!"

Suddenly, the air was filled with the sound of flying arrows. The Imperial Guards who had been charging forward stopped in their tracks. Xue Jin’an paused, calculating the assassin’s velocity and acceleration; realizing he couldn't catch up, he stopped and sheathed his sword.

The assassin’s light-body technique was even more formidable than his martial arts. This was his true reliance—the reason he dared to infiltrate the palace, attempt to hold a prince hostage, and believe he could walk away unscathed. He stepped onto the palace wall, vaulted onto the roof, and disappeared dozens of yards away in a few bounds.

Before long, patrolling guards who had spotted the suspicious movement also scrambled onto the roof. But their light-body skills were clearly inferior to the assassin’s; they couldn't even see his shadow. Just as they were about to lose him, an old eunuch appeared. He kicked a roof tile, sending it flying toward the assassin’s back. It was Lu Bingzhu, the head eunuch of the Cining Palace.

The assassin was struck by the shattered tile. It hit with such immense, bone-crushing force that blood sprayed from his mouth like scattering flowers, and he wobbled like a kite with a broken string.

Yet, he managed to stabilize himself. Without looking back, he channeled all his internal energy into his feet, using the force of the blow to vanish into the distance faster than ever.

Lu Bingzhu also activated his light-body technique, transforming into a streak of wind as he chased the assassin’s silhouette into the palace walls.

Xue Jin’an finished appreciating the evenly matched chase, then turned back to look at his teammates, who had contributed nothing but trouble. He fell into deep thought.

*Homebody, I think I’ve encountered actors who are throwing the match.* Xue Jin’an wanted to report everyone, including the hostage Fifth Prince, whom he had also slashed across the waist.

"Seventh Brother," the Fifth Prince, who looked soft and helpless in public, sat on the edge of the carriage, watching his heroic, indiscriminate Seventh Brother. He raised his blood-soaked hand—the one he had been clutching over his wound—and asked with a sinister smile, "Are you getting revenge on me?"

Xue Jin’an explained with solemn seriousness, "I did not let personal emotions interfere, although I do very much want to hit you."

The Fifth Prince: "Are you going to tell me you weren't aiming for me just now?"

"It was the most efficient solution. Besides, you are no longer under threat. Isn't that good?" Xue Jin’an tilted his head in confusion, failing to see why anyone would be dissatisfied with such a win-win outcome.

The onlookers: "..." They felt there was something inherently strange about those words, yet they couldn't quite put their finger on what was wrong.

It was the hostage himself, the Fifth Prince, who broke the twisted logic with a sneer: "If the person is gone, of course they aren't under threat anymore. If I'm dead, I don't have to worry about how to survive, right, my 'Yama' Seventh Highness?"

"You could have been rescued, and like the Fourth Brother, you are quite hard to kill." Xue Jin’an held a level of confidence in the vitality of these novel characters that they themselves lacked. "Look, the assassin was very careful with you; you’re still alive."

The Fifth Prince was so angry he laughed, his voice dripping with sarcasm: "I’m truly sorry for failing to die while acting as a hostage. It was my fault for misjudging your heart, Seventh Brother—a heart that considers the nation, the people, and the imperial throne. It was I who was ungrateful; to have my life threatened and yet dare not bite my tongue to end it—that was truly unbecoming of a prince. I am far behind a paragon of compassion like you, Seventh Brother. I am truly ashamed! Please, in your greatness, do not hold this against your Fifth Brother!"