Bai Shuangshuang was silent for a long time, opening her mouth to explain.
But before the words could leave her mouth, the cold gleam of a weapon arrived first.
A cold blade sliced out from the darkness deep in the alley, heading straight for Zhao Qingyue’s throat.
No sound of wind, no killing intent—fast as a viper striking.
Bai Shuangshuang’s sword was faster than her mind.
The Returning Cloud Sword was drawn half an inch, just enough to catch the incoming sword tip, producing a sharp screech of metal.
Sparks flew in the darkness, illuminating the icy eyes opposite her.
Bai Shuangshuang pushed Zhao Qingyue behind her, spun her sword, and the silver light fully left its sheath.
“Stay back.”
Zhao Qingyue didn’t waste words; she grabbed the rabbit lantern at her feet and retreated to the alley entrance.
The masked attacker’s first sword missed, and the second was already following.
The sword momentum was continuous, like flowing clouds and water.
Bai Shuangshuang saw this, and her heart suddenly tightened.
‘I recognize this swordsmanship.’
It was the basic sword forms of the Qingyun Sword Sect, which she had practiced countless times in her first year, and could dismantle even with her eyes closed.
From that exchange, Bai Shuangshuang realized the masked attacker’s cultivation was slightly higher, with dense spiritual power and swift sword strikes.
Bai Shuangshuang was only at the third level of the Miao Seed realm, with weaker spiritual power, but her understanding of swordsmanship was on a completely different level.
She blocked the first strike, sidestepped the second, and slid her Returning Cloud Sword along the opponent’s blade spine, tapping gently at the guard.
The masked attacker’s wrist went numb, and his sword momentum paused.
“That move isn’t used like that.”
Bai Shuangshuang’s voice was low, as if she were critiquing a student’s homework in class.
“Your wrist is too stiff, your spiritual power is off.”
The masked attacker’s pupils contracted; he withdrew his sword and retreated quickly.
Bai Shuangshuang followed, her Returning Cloud Sword slithering along the opponent’s blade like a snake coiling around its prey.
She fought while dismantling his technique, not letting her mouth rest.
“Your opening stance is too high; the flaw is under your arm.”
“The power for this strike comes from the waist, not the shoulder.”
“Didn’t your master teach you how to defend against this move?”
The masked attacker’s sword grew more and more chaotic.
Even though his cultivation was higher and his spiritual power denser, every strike was anticipated by Bai Shuangshuang, every move aimed at the positions she had prepared.
It was like a strong adult being led around by a child, unable to use his strength or vent his frustration—deeply stifling.
With the final strike, Bai Shuangshuang’s Returning Cloud Sword tapped six times on the opponent’s blade, the six crisp sounds almost overlapping.
Six strikes in an instant.
The masked attacker’s sword flew out of his hand and embedded itself in the wall.
He turned to flee.
But as he turned, Qiu Yue was already behind him.
The white-clad girl also held a sword, its tip at his throat.
Her face still wore that gentle expression, but she forced a hint of ruthlessness into it.
Several dark figures landed silently at both ends of the alley—they were cultivators from the Flying Immortal Platform, already sealing off all escape routes.
The masked attacker stopped in his tracks.
Bai Shuangshuang stepped forward and, with a gentle flick of her Returning Cloud Sword, knocked off the spare short sword at his waist.
Another flick, and the veil fluttered down.
Beneath the veil was a young girl’s face.
About seventeen or eighteen, with cool features, lips pressed tightly, and short hair neatly tied back, like a tomboy.
Her expression didn’t change much.
Even when surrounded, she just swept her gaze across Bai Shuangshuang’s face and settled on Zhao Qingyue.
Her eyes seemed to hold only the mission.
Bai Shuangshuang stared at that face for a few seconds.
‘I don’t know her.’
She knew everyone in the Qingyun Sword Sect—hundreds or thousands of people.
She didn’t not know any of them.
This girl was not a disciple of the Qingyun Sword Sect.
‘Then where did she learn her swordsmanship?’
Zhao Qingyue walked back from the alley entrance, still holding the rabbit lantern, its candle flame flickering.
She stood beside Bai Shuangshuang and looked down at the young assassin pinned to the ground.
“That’s it?”
Zhao Qingyue’s tone carried a hint of disappointment.
“I’ve been waiting the whole journey, and this is all I get?”
Bai Shuangshuang glanced at her.
“You’re pretty calm.”
“Wasn’t this arranged between you and my father?”
Zhao Qingyue shrugged.
“I trust Lord Bai’s wise decision~”
Bai Shuangshuang didn’t reply.
Yes, this was a scheme she and Zhao Qingchuan had set up long ago.
The Prince’s Mansion had won big in this game.
All of the Imperial Court’s spies were uprooted, the great clans of the Southern Region were weakened, and the spirit fields and mines were reclaimed.
The Imperial Court wouldn’t want to come all this way for nothing; they had to salvage something.
The most convenient and disgusting way to salvage was to send this assassin to kill Zhao Qingyue.
If Zhao Qingyue died, there would be no one to testify.
The court could pin the Imperial Envoy’s death on her, claiming that the Prince of Jingnan had killed even his own daughter to cover up the accounts.
Once the mud was thrown, Zhao Qingchuan couldn’t wash it off even if he jumped into the Yellow River.
The court would save face and could also pressure Zhao Qingchuan further.
This was a move that both Zhao Qingchuan and Bai Shuangshuang had anticipated.
So from the day she left Lingxi County, Bai Shuangshuang had been waiting.
Waiting for the assassin to make a move.
Along the journey, Zhao Qingyue had heavy guards around her—several cultivators in the open and in the shadows, and countless armored soldiers.
The assassin had no chance.
But after tonight, they would enter the Royal City tomorrow, and then there would be even less opportunity.
So tonight was the last chance.
Bai Shuangshuang intentionally left Qingluan at the camp and only brought Qiu Yue.
Not bringing any guard at all would be too fake.
And she intentionally walked into this alley alone with Zhao Qingyue to give the assassin an “opportunity.”
An opportunity that looked like an opportunity.
The assassin took the bait as expected.
Bai Shuangshuang crouched down and looked at the girl pinned to the ground.
“Who sent you?”
She asked.
The girl didn’t speak.
“Who taught you swordsmanship?”
The girl still didn’t speak, but her gaze lingered on Bai Shuangshuang’s face for a moment, then quickly looked away.
Bai Shuangshuang noticed that look.
‘It wasn’t hatred or fear.’
‘It was an indescribable… admiration?’
Bai Shuangshuang’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.
“Take her back.”
She stood up and said to the cultivators from the Flying Immortal Platform.
“Don’t hurt her.”
Several cultivators together pulled the girl up from the ground.
The girl didn’t struggle, but as they tied her hands, she glanced at Bai Shuangshuang again.
Bai Shuangshuang pretended not to notice.
Zhao Qingyue walked over and shoved the rabbit lantern into Bai Shuangshuang’s hand.
“Let’s go. The night market’s done.”
Bai Shuangshuang looked down at the candle stub inside the rabbit lantern, about to burn out, and suddenly smiled.
“Who says it’s done?”
She lifted the lantern and turned to walk out of the alley.
Zhao Qingyue was stunned for a moment, then followed.
“Aren’t you curious who sent her?”
“No rush.”
Bai Shuangshuang said.
“We’ll ask slowly when we get back. For now—”
She turned back to look at Zhao Qingyue, the candlelight reflecting in her eyes, sparkling.
“—let’s finish this lantern walk first.”
Zhao Qingyue looked into her eyes, and the corners of her mouth slowly curled up.
“Alright~”
The night market was still lively.
The two girls walked through the crowd, one ahead and one behind, the rabbit lantern swaying between them as if nothing had just happened.
Strolling the night market was part of the pre-arranged plan, but the words spoken during that stroll were not.
Bai Shuangshuang had genuinely let something slip by accident, and Zhao Qingyue was truly holding a grudge about it.
But both of them tacitly agreed not to bring it up again.
Life is short, and beautiful nights are rare—how could they bear to speak of parting again?
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