After night fell, the Azure Dragon Gang members who had slipped into the inner city during the day and stayed in inns and taverns quietly took to the streets under cover of darkness.
Organized into three-man teams, they expertly made use of shadows, alleys, and roadside stalls to evade the city defense army patrols, speeding toward Guangping Street, Xiaguang Street, and Chengle Street.
Nearing this district where high officials and nobility congregated, the city defense army's patrols grew significantly tighter.
Yet having learned the patrol routines from their gang master beforehand, the gang members skillfully circumvented them as they sought out their targets.
Wang Beiwang was in one of these squads as the team leader, leading two hardy young elites of the Azure Dragon Gang. Each of the three carried a heavy pack on his back.
Before long, Wang Beiwang led his two brothers outside the estate of Yun Lan, Vice Minister of Justice.
The trio scaled the high perimeter wall with practiced ease, dropped into the courtyard, and adeptly concealed themselves behind the shrubbery to avoid the patrolling estate guards.
"We'll start the fire in the outer courtyard. There will be experts in the inner courtyard, where we'd be spotted too easily," Wang Beiwang whispered, retrieving three half-finger-thick bamboo tubes from his breast pocket and distributing them to his comrades.
The bamboo tubes contained Scarlet Refined Fire Sand, a substance sourced from Gang Master Duan's cultivation grounds—the cellar of the Duan residence.
Over the years, the sand and soil in the cellar had absorbed the power of fire spirits, transforming into a lustrous, fiery-red sand. Packed with potent fire spirit essence, once ignited, it could burn continuously for several hours and could not be extinguished by water.
Cloaked in darkness, the three poured the Scarlet Refined Fire Sand over window frames, thresholds, pillars, and other flammable spots.
Then, pulling out fire strikers, each ignited the scarlet sand.
The fire sand immediately burst into blinding sparks, heating the frames, thresholds, and pillars red-hot before erupting into raging flames.
The trio then moved on to the next building.
Soon, roaring flames lit up the interior of the Yun estate, painting the night sky crimson as panicked cries of "Fire! Fire!" rang out incessantly.
Wang Beiwang did not leave immediately. Leading his two brothers, he used the chaos to kill several family members and male servants before vaulting over the wall and escaping under pursuit from the estate guards.
As martial artists who lived by an uncompromising code of vengeance, they had always been ruthless and decisive. The kin of corrupt officials fed upon the blood and sweat of the people just the same; not one was innocent.
After fleeing the Yun residence, packs on their backs, the trio sprinted along the roadside shadows toward the Zheng residence.
They had two missions tonight, and sowing chaos was only the first.
***
In the outer city.
Inside a watchtower perched upon the city wall, more than a dozen garrison soldiers huddled around a table, rattling dice with faces both exhausted and feverishly excited.
The guards posted outside hunched against the biting cold wind, yawning sluggishly—craving sleep yet eager for their shift to end so they could enter the watchtower to gamble.
"It's getting colder and colder. This wind cuts like a knife," a guard muttered, looking down at the refugees beneath the wall and clicking his tongue. "I wonder if these refugees can even survive the winter. If His Majesty could have kept handing out porridge for relief, it might've been fine, but now even the porridge has stopped."
His companion spat on the ground. "Why give a damn about whether those pigs live or die? We barely know if we'll live to see tomorrow ourselves. If Linxia falls, we'll be facing the Northern Dynasty army directly. While we still have a few days of peace left, rolling a few more rounds of dice and bedding a few more women is the proper thing to do."
Just as he spoke, an outcry suddenly rose from the refugees beneath the wall: "The Northern Dynasty army is here! The Northern army is coming!"
Immediately following, a vast sea of torchlight emerged in the darkness beyond, surging rapidly toward the city gates.
A jolt went through the guards atop the wall, scaring away every ounce of drowsiness. They shrieked, "Enemy raid! Enemy raid!"
Moments later, the heavy thrum of war drums echoed into the night.
***
In the inner city, at a tavern two hundred meters from the Zheng residence, the armored Zheng Wenshi stood by the window. He faintly caught the drums and horns drifting from the outer city and saw the blazes rising across multiple points along Guangping Street, Xiaguang Street, and Chengle Street.
He paid them no heed, his gaze fixed intently on the Zheng residence shrouded in the distant night.
Hurried footsteps sounded, and his adjutant pushed open the door to the private room. Approaching Zheng Wenshi, he whispered, "General, an urgent dispatch arrived from the outer city. The Northern army is attacking."
Zheng Wenshi asked calmly, "Have the troops from the other two battalions moved out?"
The adjutant nodded.
Zheng Wenshi said coolly, "Notify our men to stand fast and await my orders."
The adjutant hesitated, holding his tongue on that matter, but shifted instead to ask, "Bandits are setting fires in the inner city. Why are we still standing by and watching?"
Zheng Wenshi said coldly, "You need only obey orders, not question your superiors."
The adjutant quietly withdrew.
Zheng Wenshi gazed at the serene Zheng residence and sneered, "Trifling parlour tricks."
Set fires in the inner city, and the patrolling city defense army would inevitably be drawn away. And with an 'enemy army' at the city walls, the capital's defense forces would likewise mobilize urgently to meet the assault.
These were all overt schemes devised by that fatuous ruler.
Yet what of it?
As long as his elite forces held their ground, no matter how many overt and covert plots the foolish emperor concocted, none would lure him away.
In the night sky, a scarlet fireball trailing a luminous tail of flame plummeted toward the Zheng residence.
The fireball detonated above the estate, illuminating the entire compound. Amidst the swelling firelight, Gang Master Duan emerged—dark red hair and a green robe.
Gazing downward with fierce tiger eyes, he unhesitatingly spread his arms, condensing scorching fireballs with bright white cores wrapped in scarlet flames—a full thirty-six in all—and hurled them down upon the rear courtyard.
Torching the estate directly.
From the eastern wing of the rear courtyard, a ghostly white figure invisible to the naked eye slipped out from under the eaves and gave a gentle blow.
*Whoosh...*
A sudden gust of yin wind blew toward the sky. The entire Zheng residence seemed plunged into deep winter as white frost crystallized on the eaves.
Struck by the chilling wind, the scarlet fireballs rapidly lost their heat; some were snuffed out outright, while others dimmed and shrank, tumbling onto roofs, courtyards, and flower beds without producing the intended explosions.
The invisible wraith, whose mere appearance triggered such drastic climate changes, flung its arms wide.
In an instant, thick yin energy surged through the rear courtyard, sweeping up frost, withered leaves, and rubble as it gathered around the spirit.
Hoisting the torrent of yin energy choked with debris, the wraith shoved it toward Fire God Duan suspended in the air. The immense tidal wave of yin energy surged upward against gravity, crashing toward the foe.
Flames ignited violently across Gang Master Duan's body with a roar, turning his very hair into fire. The flames converged around his fist.
As he punched forward, the blazing scarlet light, carrying blistering heat, collided with the tide of yin energy.
The clash of hot and cold whipped up a massive cyclone, blasting dust, dead twigs from the courtyard, and roof tiles skyward.
Amid the howling gale, the doors to the eastern wing swung open. Dressed in brocade robes, Zheng Wenhan strode out, his beard fluttering in the wind. Gazing up at Gang Master Duan in midair, he said calmly, "I have long heard that Fire God Duan of the Azure Dragon Gang is a renowned hero of the martial realm. Who would have thought your brigand nature would die so hard, transgressing the law with your martial prowess? Tonight, this Chancellor shall rid the people of the Southern Dynasty of a menace like you."
Seeing his target appear, fire blazed in Gang Master Duan's eyes. Transforming into a stream of scarlet light, he dove down, heading straight for the enemy's neck.
Suddenly, the Dominator-level wraith on the roof materialized behind Gang Master Duan, pressing softly against his back to possess him and abruptly cutting short his dive.
Beneath the eaves, Zheng Wenhan stood rock-solid and utterly fearless. Stroking his beard, he smiled. "Gang Master Duan, you may be one of the top experts in the martial realm, but compared to the Imperial Preceptor, you fall far short. The Imperial Preceptor's two 'servants' are more than enough to claim your life."
The words had barely left his lips when the eastern wing's roof shattered with a crash. A figure clad in black short garments, pale-faced with oily-green eyes, burst forth.
The yin energy surging from him rivaled that of the spirit servant, yet his form was tangible and solid, visible to mortal eyes.
It was a Dominator-level yin corpse.
Breaching the roof, the yin corpse clad in black martial garb struck like black lightning, arriving before Gang Master Duan in a flash to finish off the expert paralyzed by the spirit servant's possession.
When coordinated properly, a spirit servant and a yin corpse could effortlessly kill a cultivator of the same tier—provided the target lacked countering measures.
Yet at that very instant, golden flames flared across Gang Master Duan's chest, spreading rapidly to envelop his entire body—and the spirit servant clinging to his back.
Enveloped in golden flames, the spirit servant let out a piercing shriek inaudible to mortal ears.
It mobilized yin energy desperately to douse the golden fire, but the golden flames seemed engineered specifically to counter yin energy, burning steadily and relentlessly.
Fire God Duan's face contorted just as fiercely. The power of the Golden Crow was domineering beyond measure, distinguishing neither friend nor foe, burning the enemy while scorching himself as well.
Before the operation, the fatuous monarch had given him a talisman—the Yang Fire Talisman.
Infused with the power of the Golden Crow, the talisman could destroy wraiths and yin corpses. But the monarch had warned that there was only one Yang Fire Talisman, usable only once.
Fire God Duan had chosen to burn the wraith because he lacked effective means against incorporeal spirits. A yin corpse, on the other hand, no matter how powerful, was still a corporeal enemy of flesh and bone.
Close-quarters combat had always been the forte of a Fire Specialist.
As the spirit servant writhed in golden flames, Gang Master Duan endured the excruciating agony of the solar divine power searing his own flesh, thrusting his palm out to block the punch aimed at his face.
The next second, scarlet flames burst forth, engulfing the yin corpse.
*Bang!*
Bathed in fire, the yin corpse leaped into a flying knee strike that caught Fire God Duan squarely in the chest.
The gang master was knocked clear out of the Zheng estate like a streak of golden fire, crashing into a large manor in the distance.
The yin corpse promptly gave chase.
The brief clash roused the entire Zheng household. From madams, young mistresses, and young masters down to maidservants, male servants, and elderly matrons, all bolted awake and rushed out to see what was happening.
Just then, two ethereal, melodious voices echoed gently through the night sky like a mother's lullaby, filling the heart with tranquil serenity and heavy drowsiness.
*Thud, thud, thud...* Those who had just rushed out of their rooms collapsed one after another, lapsing into deep slumber.
Two beauties in fluttering colorful dresses leaped across the ridgepoles using Qinggong, arriving above the rear courtyard of the Zheng estate.
Hypnotizing the mortals was intended to prevent Zheng Wenhan from slipping away in the chaos, as well as to clear the field of pesky soldiers who had no business intervening in this fight.
Just as Zheng Wenhan's attention was drawn to the two women on the roof, a dagger glinting with cold light emerged behind him, followed by the materialization of the woman holding it.
Dressed in a black-and-white Daoist robe, she possessed a round, sweet-looking face.
*Clang!*
The dagger struck an earthy-yellow shimmer.
The ambush had failed.
The paving stones beneath Zheng Wenhan cracked, and the fragments rapidly coalesced into a colossal hand of stone that hoisted him high into the air. Its fingers loosely closed, shielding Zheng Wenhan inside.
A fireball roared through the air, slamming toward the giant stone hand.
With a fiery boom, the flames expanded, transforming into a beautiful thirteen- or fourteen-year-old girl. Fire burst from every pore of her skin, and crimson light twined around every strand of her hair.
Having arrived via Fire Traveling, the young girl drove a punch into the loosely cupped giant hand.
The flames exploded with a deafening roar, showering debris everywhere and blasting open a massive crater that billowed with gray smoke.
Immediately after, another figure stepped out from the blast of flames, likewise ablaze from head to toe, delivering a relay punch into the breached gap.
*Crash!*
Under the full-force assault of two Fire Demons, the hand of coalesced stone disintegrated, sending scorching fragments flying in all directions.
Zheng Wenhan's disheveled figure was exposed.
Before Jiang Jingwei, Brother Red Chicken, and Sun Miaomiao could follow up with a finishing strike, a dark shadow plunged from the sky. Sharp talons clamped onto Zheng Wenhan's shoulders, hauling him skyward.
It was a giant eagle with a two-meter wingspan.
*Twang!*
A bowstring snapped like thunder. An arrow shot forth toward Zheng Wenhan, screeching shrilly as it cleaved through the air.
Simultaneously, a pair of flying swords—one long, one short—flashed like silver ribbons, pincer-attacking Zheng Wenhan and the black-feathered giant eagle.
From several courtyards across the Zheng estate, flying swords surged skyward at the same time to intercept the arrow and the paired blades.
Metallic chimes rang sharp in the night sky as the flying swords collided, showering sparks.
Zheng Wenhan narrowly escaped the assassination attempt by the flying swords. Before he could heave a sigh of relief, a rapid buzzing of wings reached his ears.
Looking toward the sound, he saw a black shadow darting forward with unfathomable speed, arriving before his eyes in the blink of an eye.
*Whoosh...*
Even more flying swords shot up from below the Zheng estate, attempting to intercept the black shadow.
Yet relying on lightning speed, the shadow deftly dodged the barrage. One flying sword clearly seemed about to impale it, only to swerve in an eerie trajectory, actively missing its mark.
This was the effect of Fortune Blessing.
*Slash!*
The shadow crossed paths with the giant eagle. Zheng Wenhan's body split at the waist, his lower half plummeting along with gushing blood and severed organs.
*Dead? That was easy!*
The thought flashed through the minds of Brother Red Chicken and Jiang Jingwei simultaneously, triumphant smiles spreading across their faces.
*Clap, clap, clap.*
Applause suddenly rang out. The doors of the western wing swung open, and another Zheng Wenhan dressed in brocade robes stepped out, clapping gently.
"What a splendid show," Zheng Wenhan said as he crossed the threshold and stood beneath the eaves, looking around with a smile. "You distinguished individuals possess extraordinary martial skills and flawless coordination. Do you desire this Chancellor's life that badly? Alas, as a First Rank official of the dynasty, I am shielded by the destiny of the state and do not easily succumb to disaster. Now that they have all revealed themselves, what are the rest of you waiting for?"
At his command, numerous figures leaped from all directions, perching atop the ridgepoles. They surrounded Jiang Jingwei, Brother Red Chicken, Sun Miaomiao, the Palace Master, Xiao Yuan, as well as Guan Ya, Elder Xu, Retainer Zhou of the Yang residence, and the others who had struck from concealment.
A full twenty-two people in all.
Jiang Jingwei glanced left and right. Even with her poor math skills, she noticed something was wrong.
Weren't there far too many Saints in the Zheng residence?
What was worse, there were eight Saints who gave her an extreme sense of danger.
Eight peak Saints.
This completely contradicted their earlier estimate of five peak Saints and nine ordinary Saints.
This was hardly an assassination—they had walked straight into a trap!
"Xiong'er!" A burly, full-bearded middle-aged man glared furiously at Jiang Jingwei. "I arranged for you to enter the palace to slay that fatuous monarch and avenge our blood debt, yet you let lust cloud your senses and sided with Zhao Shun! Tonight, as your father, I shall place righteousness above family and slaughter you, unfilial little beast!"
***
In the private room of the tavern two hundred meters away.
Zheng Wenshi finally withdrew his gaze from the Zheng residence. He summoned his adjutant and barked his order: "The time has come. Signal the entire army to reinforce the Zheng clan."
Amid the adjutant's resounding acknowledgment, he pressed his hand to the sword at his hip and strode out of the room, his armor clanking.
***
At Tianji Tower.
The Imperial Preceptor stood on the observation terrace with his hands clasped behind his back, sighing with feeling. "Such an entertaining show—will Your Majesty not participate in person? It is not too late to rush there now."
Six or seven meters away, Zhang Yuanqing sat cross-legged before a low table, brewing tea with unhurried deliberation.
"Luring me out of Tianji Tower to kill me by the hands of the Zheng clan?" He lowered his head and gave a soft laugh. "The clicking of the Imperial Preceptor's abacus can be heard all the way in the Northern Dynasty."
Without turning around, the Imperial Preceptor fell silent for a few seconds before remarking slowly, "Facing impending doom, Your Majesty still possesses such composure. It seems I underestimated you in the past."
"It's too early to say who is facing doom. Imperial Preceptor, let us watch and see," Zhang Yuanqing said.
Chapter 876