This Assassin Is So Rich

Lin Zhao truly hadn't expected the assassin to be so wealthy!

He poured all the banknotes and silver ingots he'd found into the deerskin bag. Judging by the weight of the silver, he roughly estimated it to be around three thousand taels!

Adding the banknotes, which amounted to over twenty-five thousand taels, the total exceeded thirty thousand taels. It's worth noting that during the Jiajing era, this sum was enough to cover the military pay and body-tempering supplies for a thousand militia soldiers for two years.

"Is the assassin business really this profitable? Maybe I should give up my Centurion post and join the 'Soul Reapers' to become an assassin!" Lin Zhao exclaimed in astonishment.

Little did he know that this assassin, Zhou Bo'an, was a Silver Rank killer from the Night Raven Tower, known in the martial world as "Blood Raven the Unpredictable." His internal martial arts had already reached the intermediate Entering Martial Master level, and he had never failed in his previous twenty-plus assassination attempts.

Normally, hiring him required a four-thousand-tael deposit upfront, with the remaining balance paid upon completion. Additionally, half a tael of Spirit Condensing Grass was required – a medicinal herb highly beneficial for intermediate martial artists in stabilizing their Blood Essence.

After deducting the Night Raven Tower's thirty percent commission and the spoils seized after each successful mission, this thirty thousand taels of silver was originally saved by Zhou Bo'an to reclaim his ancestral lands and the hereditary Battalion Commander post that had been confiscated. He dared not touch it, only using it for body-tempering ointments, heart-protecting powders, and emergency supplies.

People often lament how difficult it is to make money, but they don't realize the easiest methods are all detailed in the treason section of the Great Ming Code.

If one could truly cast aside moral principles, family, and life itself, making money wouldn't be difficult. The real challenge is having the life to earn it and the life to spend it – how many martial artists in the Jianghu have fallen victim to the allure of wealth? Zhou Bo'an was no exception in the end.

The banknotes were one thing, but the three thousand taels of silver weighed over thirty catties. Even an ordinary martial artist would struggle to carry it. Fortunately, Lin Zhao had trained since childhood and possessed immense strength due to his internal energy, allowing him to lift it with ease, truly fulfilling the saying "counting money until your hands cramp."

He searched further in the side rooms and storerooms of this three-courtyard residence, most eager to find Zhou Bo'an's manual for the Leopard Shadow Steps.

During their earlier fight, the assassin's lightness skill was the best Lin Zhao had encountered. His footwork was precise, hitting vital points, and he could dissipate thirty percent of the internal energy impact with his movements. If the opponent hadn't been unaware of the defensive prowess of Lin Zhao's ancestral Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique, he would likely have been killed on the spot.

Unfortunately, after searching through hidden compartments in the floor and walls, and the space between the beams, he couldn't find even a single fragmented page of the martial arts manual, so he had to give up.

As the night deepened, a cold wind swirled dead leaves around the courtyard walls, and iron wind chimes tinkled from the eaves. A few mournful caws of old crows echoed in the distance.

Lin Zhao sat at the rosewood long table in the main hall, holding his Frost Condensing Sword in one hand, gnawing on a barley cake with cold water, his eyes fixed on the courtyard gate.

The minor flesh wounds sustained during the previous fight had already begun to heal thanks to the heart-protecting powder he carried. Now, circulating his internal energy through a full cycle, he had brought his condition to its peak.

He silently congratulated himself. His ancestral Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique specialized in body tempering and defense, forming the foundation of internal Hard Qigong. Practiced to the fourth level, it could generate a thin energy shield on the body's surface. Facing such a surprise attack, indeed, "wearing the thickest armor" was the best way to survive.

He remained sleepless all night until the sky began to lighten. Faint footsteps could be heard on the street – the steps were steady, indicating a martial artist who had practiced basic footwork. Even the slight rustle of the bluestone slabs outside the courtyard was clearly audible.

Lin Zhao's gaze sharpened, his muscles tensing like a drawn bow. His internal energy sank to his dantian, and he stood like a coiled tiger, hidden in the shadows behind the door.

A figure wrapped in a black cloak hesitantly pushed open the slightly ajar wooden door. Upon seeing the bloodstains in the courtyard and the split doorframe, the figure couldn't help but curse, "What the hell is Zhou Bo'an up to? He went to pick up a 'stake' last night, and his own nest got ransacked?"

Before the words were out, a figure as imposing as a tower blocked the doorway. The ferocious Rakshasa mask was still on his face, bloodstains still fresh on the Frost Condensing Sword. He spoke menacingly, "I've been waiting for you for a long time. Take your life!"

"You... you're Lin Zhao?! You're not dead? Zhou Bo'an, he..." The broker stumbled back half a step, his face beneath the cloak instantly paling. Zhou Bo'an was a skilled practitioner of the Minor Heavenly Cycle realm, and he had still fallen to this person?

The response was a sword light that sliced through the darkness. The Frost Condensing Sword, imbued with internal energy, slashed out, creating a whistling gust of wind aimed directly at his face.

This broker was an intermediary from the Night Raven Tower responsible for connecting assassins with employers. Although he was part of the organization, his role was purely to run errands and deliver messages. His martial arts were only mediocre; he had only practiced basic punches and kicks for a few years and hadn't even condensed his internal energy into a solid form.

He hastily drew his saber to block, only to hear a crisp "crack." The Frost Condensing Sword, carrying internal energy, cleaved down. The saber snapped in two, and the remaining force swept through his arm, causing his Blood Essence to surge and a sweet taste to rise in his throat.

Even Zhou Bo'an, an intermediate Entering Martial Master, had fallen. How could his own insignificant skills be a match for this opponent?

Escape!

He had to escape to report back!

This fiend, Lin Zhao, was too formidable. Unless the employer was willing to pay extra to hire a Gold Rank assassin from the same level, or even a Mystic Rank assassin, no matter how many Silver Rank or Bronze Rank brothers came, they would only be sending themselves to their deaths!

That scout, the Night Raven Guest, had likely also fallen to him!

But how could Lin Zhao let this only lead slip away?

His figure flickered, and he lunged like a hungry tiger. The explosive speed of the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique practiced to the fourth level was no mere boast.

Although not as swift as Zhou Bo'an's Leopard Shadow Steps, it was more than enough to deal with this ordinary fighter.

He grabbed the man's shoulder with one hand and pressed down forcefully. With a dull thud, the broker's forehead slammed hard against the bluestone slab, blood immediately gushing from his temples and nose.

Both were practitioners, yet the difference in their realms was so vast!

"Too weak! Too weak! Too weak!" Lin Zhao roared, thrusting his long sword down, piercing the shoulder blade and pinning it to the ground.

The chill of the Cold Iron sword seeped through his clothes. He narrowed his eyes, his voice filled with killing intent, "Speak! Who sent you to kill me?"

"Hmph, kill me if you want, but you'll never get a word out of me!" the broker gritted his teeth, enduring the pain, blood constantly trickling from his lips.

He was a death warrior trained by the Night Raven Tower, indoctrinated since childhood with the belief that "the Lord of Night Raven is supreme." Such core liaisons were all characters who would rather die than betray.

Lin Zhao twisted his wrist, and the Frost Condensing Sword slowly sliced open the man's chest. Blood spurted out, and internal organs spilled out along with flesh and skin.

The broker's face turned ashen white as paper. He mustered his last ounce of strength and roared, "Kill me! Lord Mystic Shadow will ensure you have a terrible end!"

"Noisy!" Lin Zhao snorted coldly and slashed his sword horizontally. The man's head immediately separated from his body.

He searched the corpse again, and as expected, found not a single note or token from any branch. They were truly meticulous.

"Won't talk? Send more people if you dare! I want to see how many lives your Night Raven Tower has to fill!" Lin Zhao's eyes turned bloodshot. He swung his sword wildly, as if venting his rage, until the corpse was thoroughly mangled. Then, he carried the remains to the kitchen stove in the backyard, listening to the sizzling sound of burning fat.

He walked outside the courtyard, taking a deep breath of the crisp morning air, and took another bite of the barley cake to suppress the anger in his heart.

By the time his emotions had calmed, the sky had turned a pale fish-belly white. The first rays of dawn fell on his blood-stained face, making the mask appear even more ferocious.

Lin Zhao went to the washroom and cleaned himself with cold water. Looking at his bloodshot eyes in the bronze mirror, he remained silent for a moment. Although he had won the battle last night, it had also exposed his weakness in lightness skills. He needed to find a lightness skill to compensate in the future.

After confirming there was nothing valuable left in the residence, he moved the pine resin wood piled in the storeroom and stacked it full in the main hall and side rooms. Then, he took a spark from the stove and ignited it.

The raging fire quickly engulfed the entire courtyard, with thick smoke billowing straight into the sky.

Lin Zhao's figure gradually disappeared into the morning mist, leaving only a sea of fire behind him.

Killing and arson bring golden belts; the ancients truly did not deceive Lin Zhao.

The unexpected windfall of tens of thousands of taels of silver made his heart soar with joy.

A standard tael of silver weighed six qian. Coupled with his existing wealth, he was currently carrying over fifty jin of cash. He didn't dare to walk too carelessly, for fear that the heavy clinking sound would attract unwanted attention. He secretly lamented that it would be wonderful to have a legendary treasure pouch, a mythical item of the martial world that could hold several shi of goods, saving him from this constant anxiety.

"There's a lot of money, but the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon must be found as soon as possible. Carrying so much silver with me isn't a long-term solution. I need to find a safe place to hide it and figure out how to transport it back after everything is settled."

Lin Zhao acted immediately. He left the Northern Garrison—this important border town was still asleep, and the city gates had not yet fully opened. He slipped out of the city using the shadows of the wall, confirmed he was not being followed, and then headed into the wilderness.

He set his sights on the northwest and walked about a thousand paces, finding a ridge covered by a dense pine and cypress forest.

He chose an old pine tree with gnarled branches as a marker, took out the short shovel from his waist, dug a three-foot-deep pit, and buried the oilcloth-wrapped taels of silver. He then piled up loose stones on top and swept away the loose soil, making it look no different from its surroundings before dusting off his hands.

He didn't leave in a hurry. Instead, he circled around to a distant pine tree and squatted there for an hour. Given Night Raven Tower's methods, it was possible they had sent tails. Seeing no one approach, he finally breathed a sigh of relief and headed back towards the Northern Garrison along the ridge. Zhao Zhong's agreed-upon meeting time was fast approaching.

It wasn't until Lin Zhao heard from passersby the news of "Zhou Bo'an's mansion catching fire" that he realized the assassin from before was actually a Centurion of the Northern Garrison.

The mansion was already secluded, and there were no other people around when the incident occurred. With the fire raging, not even a trace remained.

With the current investigation skills of the Garrison's training camp, it was mostly some elderly and weak individuals who were embezzling funds. It would be difficult for them to trace the matter back to him, so Lin Zhao didn't pay it much mind.

The next morning, near the west gate of the Northern Garrison, a convoy of well-equipped carriages was slowly setting off. Five people followed the carriages, some on horseback and some on foot. It was Lin Zhao and his companions.

He had already rendezvoused with Zhao Zhong and gathered their equipment, intending to head to the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's habitat as Zhao Zhong had described.

"Everyone, before we set off, let me clarify the division of labor again." Zhao Zhong reined in his horse, his voice deepening. He was a former instructor at the garrison, and his Hard Qigong had reached the peak of the 'unranked' level. "I will search for the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's tracks; Li Cangying, you will use your Wind Chasing Steps to lure the beast within range of the armor-piercing crossbow; Zhou Xuanwu, you, the shield warrior, will use your Mystic Iron Shield to withstand it and prevent it from charging wildly; Xie Hongling, you will poison the arrows with 'Seven Absolute Soul Chasing Poison' and then help Brother Rakshasa keep an eye on the surroundings, allowing him to focus on his archery."

"Understood." Li Cangying flipped over nimbly, landing steadily on his horse. Although his Wind Chasing Steps were not as good as Zhou Bo'an's Leopard Shadow Steps, they were still considered top-tier movement techniques in the martial world.

Zhou Xuanwu scanned the group, his gaze finally settling on Lin Zhao. He considered himself the strongest fighter among the five, bearing the heaviest responsibility. He remained skeptical of the archery skills of this newly joined "Rakshasa": "I hope none of you will mess things up."

"There is one more thing." Zhao Zhong's brow furrowed, clearly worried about this hastily assembled team. "The Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's territory is at Black Wind Pass, on the border between Great Ming and Oirat. Besides defending against fierce beasts, we also have to guard against Oirat's Eagle Archers. The Grandmaster Warrior who was injured by the Pangolin Dragon earlier has not been heard from since. It's possible the Oirats have also discovered its whereabouts and will send people to snatch the Pangolin."

Lin Zhao remained vigilant throughout the journey, fearing that the assassins from Night Raven Tower would come after him again.

Despite having killed the attackers in both previous encounters, he dared not be careless now. Night Raven Tower could dispatch assassins who were mid-tier Entering Martial Masters, so it was possible they had even stronger Peak Martial Master experts.

For this expedition, he had spent a large sum of money at the Northern Garrison to purchase a suit of Cold Iron Willow Leaf Chainmail. If it weren't for the fact that Mountain Pattern Armor was too heavy and would chafe during long journeys, he would have preferred to wear it directly.

In addition, his quiver was fully loaded with arrows. A Black-tipped Dagger was tucked into his left waist, and a Cold Iron Frost Condensing Sword hung from his right. He also carried Saltpeter Powder, confiscated from the assassins, which he could scatter at any time to blind his enemies. He was fully armed and showed no hesitation.

The group traveled for three days and three nights before reaching the habitat described by Zhao Zhong. It was a vast valley filled with mixed forest. In the distance, the Yin Mountains stretched out in undulating waves, their peaks capped with snow. This was the border mountain between Great Ming and Oirat. Beyond the mountains lay the Oirat grasslands, where the Eagle Archers were said to not only possess divine archery skills but also practice the hard qigong of the grasslands, and their temperament was even wilder than that of the Great Ming garrison soldiers.

The Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon was originally a fierce beast from the Oirat grasslands. It had scales, immense strength, and even a trace of the bloodline of an ancient mythical beast. It was likely that it had migrated from there.

The deeper they went into the valley, the more difficult the path became. The well-equipped carriage could no longer move forward. Zhao Zhong and Zhou Xuanwu simply carried the heavy armor-piercing crossbow.

Finally, they set up the crossbow on a high slope and looked down into the valley, where the movements within were clearly visible.

"The Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's lair is just ahead, where I've marked it." Zhao Zhong's expression was solemn as he pointed to a patch of low-lying forest in the valley. "Next, Miss Xie and Brother Rakshasa will prepare here. The three of us will go and lure the beast over."

"Brother Rakshasa, remember this: the Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon's weak points are its eyes and the back of its head. Its scales can't be broken by ordinary swords, and even if pierced, it won't die immediately. Although Xie Hongling's 'Seven Absolute Soul Chasing Poison' is potent, it's difficult to take it down in one go. You must show your true skill, otherwise, even an injured Mystic Armored Pangolin Dragon can bury us all in this valley."

His words were both a reminder and a warning. The success of this battle depended entirely on Lin Zhao's archery. If Lin Zhao failed or had ulterior motives, none of them would survive.

"You all just focus on your own tasks. I won't make any mistakes here." Lin Zhao's tone was calm, but his eyes showed no fear, only confidence. His archery skills were maxed out, and combined with the steady internal energy from the Mystic Dragon Breathing Technique, his hundred-percent accuracy was no mere boast.

"I hope so." Zhou Xuanwu snorted, turned, and walked down the slope. Li Cangying and Zhao Zhong followed closely.

Xie Hongling then took out a small white porcelain bottle from her armor lining. She uncorked it, and a peculiar sweet fragrance wafted out. It was the "Seven Absolute Soul Chasing Poison," brewed from six deadly poisons including Intestine Severing Grass and Crane Top Red. This single bottle represented half a year of her savings and hard work.

"Brother Rakshasa, this medicine is my most prized possession." Xie Hongling said with a smile, holding an arrow tip between her fingers and meticulously smearing the poison onto it. "You must shoot accurately and not waste my efforts."

She chose to poison the arrow at this moment to prevent the medicinal effect from dissipating. Not a single drop of such precious poison could be wasted.

"With a beauty like you watching, my arrows will only be more accurate than you imagine." Lin Zhao replied casually while keeping a close eye on the movements at the valley entrance. He had already picked up a poisoned feather arrow, nocked it onto the armor-piercing crossbow, and was slowly channeling his internal energy into the arrow, waiting for the armored pangolin dragon to appear.