Lin Taichu did not get tangled up with them. He pushed off with his feet and retreated, then flicked his wrist, sending the short blade whistling through the air toward a pillar in the main hall.
Seeing this, the lead guard swung his blade to block it, but the short blade was too fast. It grazed past his weapon and struck the pillar with a thunk.
More guards rushed in from all directions. Knowing he had achieved his goal, Lin Taichu turned and ran toward the courtyard wall.
A guard caught up to him, but Lin Taichu casually grabbed a wooden stick from the ground and swept it across, knocking the two closest pursuers to the ground. Taking advantage of the opening, he vaulted onto the wall and vanished into the night in a few leaps.
Inside, Liu Zhong's face had gone pale with fright. Only after the guards confirmed that the assassin had fled did he dare step outside.
He spotted the short blade embedded in the pillar at once. Hurrying over, he had a guard pull it out. When he saw the words on the hilt, Liu Zhong shuddered, and the blade in his hand nearly fell to the ground.
A subordinate beside him asked, "Chief steward, what do these words mean?"
Liu Zhong said nothing for a long while, his face alternating between green and white. He knew better than anyone what "ancient painting" referred to. This assassin clearly knew about what had happened back then and was most likely sent by the Prince.
Thinking of the Prince's methods, cold sweat poured down Liu Zhong's back. "Don't ask. Burn the blade. From today onward, we stay out of the Prince's affairs, and we will not contact the Third Prince either."
The subordinate froze. "But the Third Prince..."