Now that he had no concerns holding him back, Xing Muzheng could finally face the assassins with calm clarity. After a bout of intense fighting, three assassins remained—two men and one woman. They all wielded short daggers used for close-range killing—every strike deadly, clearly well-trained killers. They attacked with deadly precision. The women huddled far away, shrieking in fear. Local Commander Liu wielded a broadsword and charged forward. The Minghu Prefect, who had no martial skills, grabbed a flower vase like a weapon and lingered anxiously on the edge, not daring to step in.
The two generals assigned to protect Xing Muzheng were already injured. Local Commander Liu was nearly killed by a kick from the female assassin—her dagger nearly found its mark—but Xing Muzheng flicked her blade away with his sword just in time to save him.
The three assassins surrounded Xing Muzheng. His face remained utterly unreadable—no joy, no rage. With a flick of his wrist, his battle-hardened sword, already stained red, dropped low. His powerful body stood tall like a pine, coiled with latent force.
From behind the coral screen, Qian Jiaoniang peeked out to catch a glimpse of the situation—but Ah Da stepped in front of her, blocking her view.
“Madam, I’ll escort you out!”
Qian Jiaoniang looked up at Ah Da, then tilted her head toward the ongoing battle. “Why are you here instead of protecting your commander? Anyone can see who’s in more danger.”
“The Commander ordered me to protect you.”
“I’ve done nothing to offend anyone. Your commander is the one surrounded.”
Ah Da glanced back and, to her surprise, let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, it’s just three? Then it’s nothing serious. Madam, let’s leave this place.”
Just three?! Three versus one—how could they possibly lose?
“I think those three are all experts!” Qingya said nervously from behind Qian Jiaoniang.
But Ah Da remained unconcerned. “They may look fierce, but they’re no match for the Commander. Back then, the Commander once slew over a hundred masters single-handedly—now that was a true slaughterhouse.”
The male assassin closest to Xing Muzheng met his gaze—and what he saw was not a person’s eyes, but something devoid of emotion, as if staring at a corpse. In that split second, the assassin heard the whisper of death. His fighting spirit shattered. Realizing too late he had made a fatal error, Xing Muzheng was already before him in a flash, plunging his sword into the assassin’s gut like butchering a helpless chicken.
The female assassin attacked from behind, but Xing Muzheng, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, spun and seized her by the throat. She twisted around to stab his arm—almost succeeding—but before she could, he hurled her away with such force that she slammed into the wall.
The last male assassin charged with clenched teeth, aiming straight at Xing Muzheng. Xing Muzheng dodged sideways, but the assassin’s left sleeve flicked open—hidden darts shot toward Xing Muzheng’s eyes. In that hair’s breadth of a moment, Xing Muzheng caught the dart between two fingers—it was a small spinning blade. The assassin spun, dagger in hand, stabbing straight for Xing Muzheng’s heart. To others, his movements were lightning-fast, too fast to follow. But with a sharp clang, Xing Muzheng’s sword caught the dagger just in time.
The assassin’s eyes widened in disbelief. The onlookers, already pale with terror, gasped as Xing Muzheng’s arm twisted. No one could tell what technique he used—but then a bloodcurdling scream rang out. The assassin’s hand had somehow been severed.
Blood gushed. The assassin broke into cold sweat, staggering backward. But Xing Muzheng drove the spinning blade into his left eye without hesitation.
Xing Muzheng had never treated enemies as human. He didn’t distinguish between male or female, and he held no pity. Even as the man’s agonized howls filled the air, he remained unmoved—pulling out the blade and stabbing the right eye as well.
Blood poured from the assassin’s ruined eyes, his face instantly transformed into a grotesque, bloody mask. He howled in pain. Several faint-hearted ladies fainted at the sight.
Xing Muzheng then slashed the man’s hamstrings, letting him collapse on the floor in agony.
Towering over the now-blind, handless assassin, Xing Muzheng looked down at him coldly. Blood dripped bright red from the tip of his sword. He turned to the female assassin, who was watching her companion’s torment in horror. Their eyes met—and she collapsed to the floor, paralyzed as if struck by a pressure point.
She had clearly undergone rigorous training, yet in the face of his gaze, she crumbled completely. That wasn’t the look of someone observing another person—it was the look of a butcher sizing up meat. She knew he would slaughter her just as he had her comrade.
In a panic, the female assassin raised her blade to stab herself—but Local Commander Liu rushed in just in time to stop her.
Xing Muzheng curled his lip slightly.
That fear in her eyes—that’s what he wanted. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone to such lengths to torment that man, drenching himself in blood.
“Take them away,” Xing Muzheng said, sheathing his sword and calmly pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his hands.
Local Commander Liu quickly ordered his men to drag the two assassins away. The hall fell into a heavy, deathly silence, thick with the stench of blood. Everyone watched Xing Muzheng with reverence and terror. Just now, he had seemed like a killing god straight out of h*ll.
Some of the noblewomen, unable to bear recalling the bloody scene, clutched vases and jars and began vomiting.
Qian Jiaoniang had seen it all. This was her first time seeing this side of Xing Muzheng. She had seen him in his crazed, parasite-induced madness—but this version of him, clear-headed and calm, was more terrifying.
A complete madman—cold-blooded to the extreme.
He had done it on purpose. He could’ve subdued that man normally, but instead he had to cut off his hand, blind his eyes, and cripple him. He had deliberately shattered the assassins’ morale with brutality.
Qian Jiaoniang was still squatting behind the cabinet, unable to snap out of it, when Xing Muzheng had already arrived in front of her. He reached out to pull her up but noticed his hand was still stained with blood, so he switched hands and lifted her with the other.
As soon as Qian Jiaoniang looked up, she saw the splattered blood on the brocade robe before her.
“Are you hurt?” Xing Muzheng asked, his tone calm, as though the intense fight from moments ago hadn’t happened at all.
Qian Jiaoniang dazedly shook her head. “No.”
Xing Muzheng gave her a once-over, confirmed she was telling the truth, then turned to glance at the mess in the room. “This place is dirty now. You all should eat somewhere else.”
Qian Jiaoniang tugged at the corner of her lips. Did he not see that all the madams and young ladies were pale as sheets, some fainted, others vomiting—who could still have the appetite to eat?
The owner of Fengyue Tower had been hiding behind the door. Now he hurried forward with a flattering smile. “This humble one will immediately have the second floor cleaned and prepare seats for the esteemed guests.”
Xing Muzheng shot a look at the owner, who trembled. Ah Da stepped forward, caught the man by the shoulder, and said, “These assassins were wearing your Fengyue Tower’s clothing. They looked like your staff. Speak—what connection do you have with them?”
Upon hearing this, the owner of Fengyue Tower was so frightened he dropped to his knees, kowtowing frantically. “Please have mercy, my lord! This little one truly doesn’t know anything!”
“Take him down and interrogate him along with the others,” Xing Muzheng ordered.
Before Ah Da could signal, Local Commander Liu had already called over an injured soldier to escort the owner away. The prefect of Minghu quickly said, “This official will immediately have Fengyue Tower sealed off and thoroughly investigated!”
The prefect was silently cursing his luck. He thought this would be his moment to shine, but it turned out to be a diversion for an assassination attempt! Why hadn’t he seen through it?! If anything had happened to Marquis Xing in Minghu, not only would he lose his official hat—he might not even keep his head! Now the only hope was to swiftly uncover the mastermind behind this, to appease Marquis Xing’s fury.
Given the situation, it was clear no one would be finishing their meal today. Qian Jiaoniang said, “It looks like the Marquis and the officials will be busy. I’ll take Chou’er back to Lord Zhen’s residence first. Sister Song doesn’t look too well.”
Upon hearing this, Xing Muzheng’s face—calm even when facing three assassins earlier—suddenly changed slightly. “Take Chou’er… you can return to Zhen Manor first. I’ll bring Chou’er back later.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes narrowed. There’d just been a huge commotion, and she hadn’t seen that trouble-loving child anywhere. And now Xing Muzheng was stammering? Her expression shifted. “What happened to Chou’er?”
