The figure was dressed in a charcoal-gray night suit, with a slender frame and a face so ordinary it would be forgotten the moment one looked away.
A Second-Rank Martial Artist.
Qin Junyue’s hand tightened around the hilt of the Soft Sword at her waist. Her breathing slowed as her expression turned sharp and focused.
‘A strange Second-Rank Martial Artist sneaking into the Song Mansion at midnight and heading straight for the wedding chamber?’
Her expression became exceptionally grim.
Inside the Wedding Chamber, the red candles were still burning.
Qi Chuyao’s slurred voice drifted out from within, muttering something incoherent, completely oblivious to the approaching danger.
Qin Junyue kept one hand on her sword hilt and utilized her Breath-holding Technique, moving stealthily across the roof.
Her movements were incredibly light, making no sound at all. Combined with her cultivation technique, she seemed to drift with the wind, making her presence nearly impossible to detect.
She was looking for the perfect position.
A spot where she could protect the people inside the Wedding Chamber without being discovered by the intruder.
The figure stopped abruptly not far from the courtyard.
Qin Junyue’s heart skipped a beat.
‘Could they have noticed me?’
‘It shouldn’t be possible.’
She was confident that her Breath-holding Technique was superb. In this environment and at such a distance, she wasn’t moving rapidly like the intruder; how could she have been spotted?
Qin Junyue’s powerful, bright phoenix eyes stared fixedly at the figure in the dark, ready to draw her sword at any moment.
However, the person did not look in her direction.
The intruder stopped, their expression turning strange. With a sudden leap, they landed on a roof and stayed still, seemingly hesitating.
Under the moonlight, the Black-clad Person’s gaze swept toward the Wedding Chamber. Sensing the movement inside, she furrowed her brows slightly.
‘This isn’t right.’
‘Logically, shouldn’t these two have gone to sleep after drinking the Nuptial Wine? Why are they still talking?’
‘And why is the door to the Wedding Chamber not even closed?’
The plan they had formulated was supposed to be foolproof. They had personally tampered with the Nuptial Wine; as soon as it was consumed, the victims would lose consciousness, appearing as if they had simply fallen into a drunken stupor.
At that point, she was supposed to slip into the room, eliminate the blind Song Ning, and frame the scene as Qi Chuyao’s Drunken Murder Plot. Then, she would take Qi Chuyao away.
With a series of clearly pointed evidence left behind and Qi Chuyao missing from the scene on her wedding night, even if she jumped into the Yellow River, she wouldn’t be able to wash away the suspicion.
Once a rift formed between the two families, Lord Wei would be able to win over one side, expanding his influence in the Imperial Court and gaining better control over the government and the Capital City defense.
This entire plan relied on the premise that the newlyweds would drink the Nuptial Wine.
After all, who doesn’t drink Nuptial Wine at their wedding? Even if they didn’t drink, she had tampered with the fruits on the table as well.
But even if they were completely guarded, it didn’t matter.
The Black-clad Person rubbed her chin and pulled a stick of Black Incense from her robes.
The incense was pitch black, carved with intricate patterns that shimmered with an eerie light under the moon.
She had prepared a contingency plan. If they weren’t unconscious, she would light this incense and blow the smoke into the room to achieve the same effect.
In short, Qi Chuyao had to complete her “Drunken Murder Plot” tonight.
The Black-clad Person nodded, quite satisfied with her plan.
She held the incense in her mouth and reached behind her, feeling for her Fire-starter.
Scrape!
A faint friction sound echoed from behind her ear.
The sound was so light it was like the wind brushing against a blade of grass.
The Black-clad Person whipped her head around.
A pair of icy eyes were inches away.
Those eyes held no emotion. Qin Junyue had somehow slipped behind her without her noticing.
Qin Junyue raised her Soft Sword. The blade was as thin as a cicada’s wing, flashing with a silver arc under the moonlight—silent and deadly, like a snake flicking its tongue.
The Soft Sword quivered slightly, coated in something bright red and warm.
The Black-clad Person felt a delayed, searing pain erupt from her right hand.
She looked down.
Her right hand had been severed cleanly at the wrist. Blood sprayed out like a fountain.
The hand fell to the ground, its five fingers still curved as if searching for something. The Fire-starter, caught between the fingers, bounced once and rolled twice across the tiles.
Her eyes widened and her mouth hung open, ready to let out a blood-curdling scream.
Qin Junyue gave her no chance.
She lunged forward and tackled the Black-clad Person, and the two of them tumbled off the roof.
With a muffled thud, they landed on the grass outside the courtyard wall.
Dust swirled as the grass was crushed beneath them.
Only then did the Black-clad Person manage to let out a groan, but the sound was immediately smothered by Qin Junyue’s palm.
Driven by agonizing pain, her body instinctively fought back. She balled her left hand into a fist, striking toward Qin Junyue’s face with a surge of heavy Internal Power.
Qin Junyue tilted her head to avoid it. The wind from the punch grazed her cheek, causing the leaves of a small tree behind her to rustle and fall.
That previous sword strike had been carefully calculated by Qin Junyue—a lethal blow delivered by condensing her Internal Power and focusing her spirit from the maximum possible range.
Unfortunately, she still wasn’t strong enough. If she had been just a bit closer, she could have decapitated the intruder with a single strike.
The two rolled twice on the ground before springing apart.
The Black-clad Person staggered to her feet, blood still gushing from her severed wrist and staining the grass beneath her a dark crimson.
She drew the sword from her waist with her left hand, the blade gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
“You! Qin Junyue!”
She glared at Qin Junyue, her eyes filled with shock and malice.
Qin Junyue said nothing. She flicked her Soft Sword, causing the blade to vibrate like a snake’s tongue with a low hum.
Pushing off the ground, she shot forward like an arrow. The Soft Sword traced a beautiful arc through the air, aimed straight for the woman’s throat.
The Black-clad Person scrambled to the side, not daring to meet the attack head-on for fear of being pinned down.
Qin Junyue’s Soft Sword seemed like a living thing, sliding along the woman’s body and slashing at her fingers.
The Black-clad Person pulled her hand back in terror, narrowly avoiding the strike, but the tip of the sword left a bloody gash on her arm.
Qin Junyue gave her no room to breathe as her sword techniques surged like a tide.
The Soft Sword was unpredictable in her hands—sometimes fierce like a whip, other times supple like a snake. Every strike was cunning and ruthless, targeting the woman’s blind spots.
Missing an arm and suffering from heavy blood loss, the Black-clad Person’s combat strength was severely diminished.
She barely managed to parry a few moves. Fearing a direct confrontation, she was eventually kicked in the wrist by Qin Junyue. Her sword flew from her grip and landed in the distant grass.
Seeing that defeat was inevitable, the Black-clad Person turned and fled.
Qin Junyue gave chase, the Soft Sword leaving two more bloody gashes on the woman’s back.
“And I thought I was facing an expert,” Qin Junyue sneered, flicking her sword and falling into a lethal stance. “You’ve cultivated to the Second-Rank, yet your martial arts are this pathetic?”
“Speak. Who sent you? What is your purpose? Tell me, and I might spare your life!”
The Black-clad Person stumbled more than ten steps away before suddenly spinning around.
A look of desperate malice flashed in her eyes.
Pfft!
A mist of blood exploded from her body, filling the air with a thick, metallic scent.
Her speed suddenly skyrocketed. Like an arrow released from a bow, she blurred across the distance, covering dozens of yards in the blink of an eye.
Qin Junyue frowned and prepared to give chase, but her steps faltered.
She glanced back toward the Wedding Chamber.
‘What if there are other assassins?’
‘What if this is a diversion?’
She gritted her teeth and sheathed her sword.
The Soft Sword wrapped back around her waist, once again becoming an unremarkable belt.
She turned and marched toward the Wedding Chamber with rapid strides.
The door was still wide open. Earlier, in her drunken state, Qi Chuyao had pushed it open and hadn’t bothered to close it.
Qin Junyue stepped into the courtyard, her footsteps becoming instinctively light. Holding her breath, she reached the doorway and peeked inside.
Qi Chuyao was sitting at the table, swaying her head and still clutching a wine jug.
“I still have… things to do,” she muttered slurringly, draining the last of the wine from the jug.
Then her eyes began to roll.
“This wine… it’s so strong… why is it so strong…” She wobbled unsteadily, her consciousness fading like a tree bent by the wind.
She reached out to steady herself on the table but missed. Her body went limp, and with a thud, she slumped onto the table, completely unconscious.
Song Ning sat on the edge of the bed, frowning slightly.
“Qi Chuyao? What things? Are you drunk?”
No one answered him.
He waited for a moment and called out again:
“Qi Chuyao?”
Still, there was no response.
Song Ning sighed, a helpless expression crossing his face.
‘How did she manage to drink herself into a stupor? I don’t even know where she is. Should I carry her to the bed?’
‘Isn’t this a bit much for a blind man?’
‘It’s the wedding night; we should just sleep until dawn! Dammit!’
He was currently starving, and he hadn’t expected Qi Chuyao to be such a handful.
Qin Junyue held her breath, suppressed her presence, and circulated her Internal Power to slip into the room quietly.
She checked on Qi Chuyao first, placing a hand on her neck and sending a thread of Internal Power to examine her condition.
She was fine; it seemed she had simply drunk too much.
When it came to her best friend, Qin Junyue was still very caring.
Once she confirmed Qi Chuyao was unharmed, her gaze instinctively drifted to the side.
Song Ning was sitting on the edge of the bed, his red Wedding Robe glowing softly in the candlelight.
His brow was slightly furrowed, and a trace of helplessness lingered at the corners of his mouth. His handsome face looked exceptionally soft in the candle’s glow.
His “gaze” was turned slightly toward Qi Chuyao, waiting for an answer that would never come.
Those white eyes currently held a hint of confusion and resignation.
But in Qin Junyue’s eyes, he looked far too beautiful.
Her heart thrashed against her ribs.
Emotions surged through her like a river breaking through a dam, impossible to hold back.
She stood by the door, just watching him.
The red candles burned silently, wax dripping down bit by bit.
The night wind blew in through the open door, making the flames flicker and casting dancing shadows across his face.
Qin Junyue suddenly felt her throat go dry.
She wanted to say something, but she didn’t dare speak.
She wanted to step forward, but her feet felt as if they were nailed to the floor.
She simply stood there, watching, her heartbeat drumming loudly in her chest.
As for Song Ning, he could see nothing. He had no idea there was another person standing right in front of him.
Even with his decent hearing, it was difficult to catch the movements of a Second-Rank Martial Artist, especially one with a cultivation technique as high as Qin Junyue’s.
Qin Junyue looked at Song Ning’s face, and a terrifying thought took root in her heart.
She looked down at the Wedding Robe on Qi Chuyao’s body, then back at her own night suit.