Blood dripped through his fingers, spreading into a small dark-red stain across the tabletop. Chen Wuya did not move, letting the cracked porcelain remain embedded in his palm. He merely rubbed his thumb over the broken edge again and again, as though testing its sharpness. Bai Zhi stood at his side, her gaze shifting from his hand to the window. A faint light still shone from the children's room—they had not gone to sleep yet.
"That man had knife marks on his cuff," Chen Wuya suddenly said, his voice very low. "Not ordinary wear. They were made when a short blade scraped against his sleeve pouch as it was put away. The knuckles of the three middle fingers on his right hand were callused, farther inward than the usual calluses of someone who uses hidden weapons. Probably something like bone-hugging darts."
Bai Zhi did not respond. She simply turned, fetched a piece of plain cloth, and held it out to him again.
"Forget that for now." Her tone was calm. "Are you sure he was not after the children?"
"He was after me." Chen Wuya accepted the strip of cloth, but instead of bandaging himself, he dipped it in the tea left on the table and drew a curved line across the stone tabletop. "When he said the three words 'Misstep Slash,' he pressed his tongue hard against them. He deliberately emphasized them. He was confirming that I knew this technique existed—which means someone behind him has already recorded what goes on in our courtyard, and can even distinguish the details of our movements."
Bai Zhi's brows drew together slightly. "Then this is not intelligence just any scout could obtain. To get close to the courtyard and hear the names of techniques clearly, either there is an insider, or... they