Chapter 29

All around was silent, save for the crackling of the burning torches, which only made the deathly stillness more pronounced.

"No wonder you don't take me seriously—you do have some real skill." Fourth Lord Feng sneered. "But young man, success isn't achieved by fists alone." As he spoke, he retreated swiftly. "Kill them all, no mercy!"

As he closed in with force, the horses were startled and let out a series of neighs.

"Whoever brings me Zhao Jiuye's head," Fourth Lord Feng's voice boomed through the night air, "will be rewarded with fifty thousand taels of silver."

Fu Tingjun's hands and feet turned ice-cold.

Fifty thousand taels of silver... Her uncle, known as the wealthiest man in Weinan, had a family fortune of only fifty thousand taels, and that included his properties, shops, and farmland. With such a grand reward, how many people could resist being tempted?

The restless neighing of horses in the courtyard, the harsh clanging of weapons colliding, the fierce and impassioned shouts of men in combat—all of it came crashing down on her in a cacophony, filling her with both unfamiliarity and fear.

Fu Tingjun couldn't help but press her palms together and murmur a prayer: "This devout woman, Fu Tingjun, beseeches the Bodhisattva to protect Ninth Master Zhao and keep him safe..." Yet in her heart, she kept telling herself that Ninth Master Zhao would surely be fine. He was so formidable—from Huayin to Weinan, from Weinan to Lintong, he had led them through so many hardships. This time, he would surely be fine too.

Her prayer gradually shifted from fearful desperation to a calmer, more serene rhythm.

The commotion outside slowly subsided as well.

Occasionally, she could hear the mournful whinny of a horse or the pained groans of men.

Had the outcome already been decided?

Fu Tingjun's heart rose to her throat.

She strained her ears to listen.

A man laughed sinisterly: "Zhao Jiuye, take a look—who is this little bastard I've got in my hands?"

It was the voice of that Fourth Lord Feng.

There were only three of them in total, and she was here... so, then, the other one must be A Sen!

Fu Tingjun panicked. She pressed against the gap in the water vat, trying to peer outside, but the opening was too low, and no matter how she bent down, she couldn't see.

Her heart was wracked with anxiety.

What had that Fourth Lord Feng done to A Sen?

Would Ninth Master Zhao, hesitant to act for fear of harming the hostage, end up turning victory into defeat?

"I had originally planned to spare your life," came Ninth Master Zhao's voice, cold yet tinged with a harsh cruelty, "but it seems that's no longer necessary!"

Fu Tingjun had never heard Ninth Master Zhao speak in such a tone, and she couldn't help but shiver.

"Hahaha!" Fourth Lord Feng, however, burst into arrogant laughter as if he'd just heard something hilarious. "You've killed all my capable subordinates, and now you want to spare my life?" His voice was laced with resentment. "If Fourth Lord Feng, who once dominated the northwest, no longer has any capable men under his command, is he still Fourth Lord Feng? Do you take me for a three-year-old child?" His tone could not hide the sorrow of a man at the end of his rope. "Zhao Jiuye, today it's either you die or I do!"

"Fourth Master, why waste words with him!" a burly man shouted. "Let's kill this little bastard first, then fight our way out. Third Master Feng is still in Lintong City! As long as we make it into the city, that Zhao Jiuye can have three heads and six arms and still be helpless!"

Ninth Master Zhao, who had remained silent until now, let out a cold scoff: "Third Master Feng? Hasn't he always wanted to replace Fourth Master Feng as the head of the Feng family? Since when did Third Master Feng and Fourth Master Feng make peace? Or are all the rumors along the northwest road false?"

The various sounds in the courtyard came to an abrupt halt. Heaven and earth fell into utter silence, and even Fu Tingjun, hidden inside the water vat, could feel the weight of the tension.

"You're called Dahu, right?" Ninth Master Zhao's voice rang out again, calm and indifferent. "Do you know why your Fourth Master is wasting words with me? Because he wants to negotiate terms—he wants to trade my servant's life for his own. Don't go stirring things up on the side. If your Fourth Master manages to escape, he can use the position of Feng family head to bargain with Third Master Feng. Given that they're cousins, Third Master Feng would likely not refuse, and in the end, he might just save his own skin. But if he dies here, then there's no chance at all!"

Although Fu Tingjun didn't know the full story, she couldn't help but silently cheer for Ninth Master Zhao.

Since Fourth Lord Feng and Third Master Feng had such a rift between them, their subordinates must be at each other's throats as well. And if Fourth Lord Feng, as the family head, couldn't even suppress Third Master Feng, then this Third Master Feng was clearly no pushover either. Now, at this critical moment of life and death, Fourth Lord Feng's men were determined to protect their master and flee, making them exceptionally fierce and ferocious. Yet Ninth Master Zhao was sowing discord between Fourth Lord Feng and his men, suggesting that if Fourth Lord Feng escaped, he would grovel before Third Master Feng with the position of family head, and that Third Master Feng, being a cousin, might spare Fourth Lord Feng's life out of blood ties—implying that his subordinates, however, might not escape Third Master Feng's reckoning. This would surely dampen their resolve to fight desperately to protect Fourth Lord Feng, thereby breaking their morale.

Sure enough, she immediately heard low murmurs of discussion.

"Zhao Jiuye has always been treacherous and cunning," Fourth Lord Feng said loudly. "Don't fall for his tricks!" But his tone no longer carried the same resolve as before.

No one responded to his words.

"Fine, I'll kill this little bastard first..." Fourth Lord Feng said through gritted teeth.

Fu Tingjun let out a startled cry and instinctively tried to stand up, but her head slammed against the water vat with a loud thud, leaving her ears ringing.

Another roar from Fourth Lord Feng came from outside: "Zhao Jiuye, you despicable scoundrel..." It sounded as if wind had rushed into his mouth—his words cut off abruptly mid-sentence. Then Fu Tingjun heard a light whistle from Ninth Master and A Sen's shrill scream: "Ninth Master!"

Fu Tingjun's heart ached. She no longer cared about anything else and threw all her strength into moving the water vat.

After all, if Ninth Master died, she wouldn't survive either. Better to have him kill her himself while he still had breath, rather than be discovered by these people and suffer humiliation without the ability to die.

"Spare me, Ninth Master..." A wail came from outside, cut off abruptly, but to Fu Tingjun's ears, it sounded like heavenly music.

She felt as if she had come back to life. Her heart began to pound, and strength returned to her body.

Since Ninth Master could still control the situation, she must not become a burden to him.

Fu Tingjun crouched quietly in the water vat, listening as the sounds outside gradually subsided. Occasionally, a cry or two of agony drifted in, but it sounded like someone utterly defenseless.

After what seemed like a long time, someone knocked on the water vat: "Miss Fu!"

It was Ninth Master's voice!

"I'm here!" she said joyfully.

The vat was lifted off.

Dawn was just breaking.

He stood there calmly, gazing at her, his imposing figure as steady as a mountain, immediately settling her restless heart.

"Ninth Master!" Having crouched in the vat for too long, she gasped for air and staggered to her feet.

Her nose and mouth were filled with the nauseating stench of blood, and from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a headless corpse.

Fu Tingjun couldn't help but bend over and vomit.

Ninth Master sighed: "A Sen is injured. Let's pack up quickly and leave this place."

Hearing this, Fu Tingjun felt the churning nausea in her chest become somewhat more bearable.

She straightened up quickly: "Where is A Sen?" She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the corner of her mouth.

A hint of amusement flickered in Ninth Master's eyes as he pointed to the small cart parked at the entrance.

A Sen lay motionless on it.

Fu Tingjun rushed over.

"A Sen, A Sen!" She took his hand and called to him softly. "Would you like some water... I still have an egg hidden away..."

Half of A Sen's face was swollen from the beating—his eye socket was bruised, his cheek was purple, and his lips were red and puffy. She could barely recognize him.

"A Sen!" Fu Tingjun's tears fell in streams.

A Sen opened his eyes and blinked several times, his expression somewhat dazed. After a moment, a look of recognition dawned on his face, as if he had just now seen clearly who was before him.

He grinned, but the movement pulled at his wounds, making him frown. Still, he spoke in a slurred voice: "Miss, they beat me, but I didn't make a sound!" His speech was unclear.

"Mm-hmm, mm-hmm!" Fu Tingjun nodded repeatedly, a brilliant smile breaking through her tear-streaked face. "If it weren't for A Sen, Ninth Master definitely couldn't have beaten that Fourth Lord Feng."

A Sen shook his head: "No, it's me who dragged Ninth Master down..."

Fu Tingjun remembered how her head spun whenever she moved after falling from the tree, so she quickly said: "Don't move. Close your eyes and rest for a while." Then she thought of how vicious those people were—they surely hadn't only beaten A Sen's face. "Where else are you hurt? I..." She hesitated.

What could she do?

There was no medicine. That Third Master Feng was still in Lintong. Ninth Master had a grudge with the Feng family and was outnumbered. They couldn't go to Lintong to see a doctor... Thinking of this, she lowered her head.

"A Sen's injuries are all superficial," came Ninth Master's calm voice from behind her. "Didn't you prepare diluted salt water? Just wash his wounds with that. We need to leave quickly now—in the dark, I couldn't tell how many of them came, nor whether anyone escaped. We don't want to be cornered here by Third Master Feng's men."

Fu Tingjun looked at Ninth Master in surprise: "Didn't you say Third Master Feng and Fourth Lord Feng were at odds?" Only then did she notice that Ninth Master's clothes were stained with blood, the original color of the fabric no longer discernible.

The nausea surged in her chest again.

Fu Tingjun barely suppressed the urge to vomit.

"Even if they're at odds, they're still family," Ninth Master said. "They still have to put on the proper appearance."

Fu Tingjun uttered an "oh" and said: "You should go change your clothes... they're... covered in blood."

Ninth Master didn't respond. He took a black short-robed garment from the bundle and went into the side room.

Fu Tingjun then noticed that corpses were strewn haphazardly across the courtyard... even the slaughterhouse of her dreams was not this bloody. No, she had never dreamed of a slaughterhouse.

She was chilled to the bone, trembling uncontrollably. Her mind told her she should quickly gather her things and leave this place, but her whole body felt weak and she could not move.

Zhao Jiuye came out: "Why haven't you packed up yet?" His expression gradually turned cold as he tossed the blood-stained clothes he had changed out of into the courtyard and silently loaded the belongings onto the small cart.

"Get on!" His voice was flat and calm, just like when she had first met him at Biyun Nunnery. "We need to leave quickly!"

For some reason, Fu Tingjun felt a tightness in her chest.

He clearly knew how to smile, so why did he always show her such a cold face?

She bit her lip and looked up, meeting his eyes directly: "I know, if Ninth Master hadn't killed them, they would have killed us. I, I just... I'm not used to it..." Her eyes suddenly grew moist.