Encountered an Attack

The bell rang in the evening dusk, and the first day of the Small Competition came to an end.

The crowd dispersed.

Li Tui followed the flow of people toward the West Courtyard.

The lump on his chest was unusually quiet, like a beast that had eaten its fill. But Li Tui could feel it digesting—the blood qi and killing intent that had permeated the arena today.

It was an unpleasant sensation, like a heavy chunk of ice lodged in his stomach, its chill slowly seeping through his meridians.

Back at the West Courtyard, Zhao Yuanchong was sitting in the side hall, drinking tea.

He hadn't competed today. He'd watched only three bouts before leaving, yet now he seemed focused. The tea had gone cold, but he hadn't touched it; his fingers tapped against the rim of the cup. Hearing footsteps, he looked up.

"Back already?" Zhao Yuanchong's gaze swept over Li Tui. "Was there anything worth noting, on or off the arena today?"

Li Tui lowered his head and recounted several key matches, mentioning how easily Zhao Hao had won his bout.

"Zhao Hao..." Zhao Yuanchong repeated the name, the corner of his mouth curling into an inscrutable smile.

After a pause, Zhao Yuanchong suddenly said, "Tomorrow at the hour of the Dragon, go to the storehouse in my place and fetch some wound medicine, just in case."

Li Tui acknowledged the order.

"You may go." Zhao Yuanchong waved him away and picked up his teacup again, his gaze already drifting toward the darkening sky outside.

Li Tui left the side hall and returned to his room.

He closed the door and leaned against it for a moment, slowly letting out a breath. The ever-thickening blood qi around the arena today had made his chest feel tight.

He took off his outer robe and examined the lump on his chest.

It had swollen another size since morning, and the dark-red patterns beneath its surface were clearer, like the beginnings of some ancient script.

Li Tui frowned and put his clothes back on. He wasn't sure whether the change was good or bad, but for now, he had no choice.

Outside the window, night had fully fallen.

The next day, dawn had barely broken.

Li Tui woke to the noise in the courtyard. He pushed open the window and saw two servants sweeping the yard, their movements more hurried than usual. From the direction of the Martial Arts Arena came the shouts of morning practice, mixed with the shrill whistle of weapons cutting through the air.

At a quarter past the hour of the Dragon, he left the West Courtyard and headed for the storehouse.

The Zhao Mansion was quieter than the day before that morning. Servants hurried along the path with their heads down, not a word passing between them.

The storehouse stood on the western side of the estate. Reaching it meant passing through two secluded corridors.

Li Tui's steps faltered as he entered the first corridor.

The lump on his chest began to throb without warning.

Li Tui whipped around.

The corridor was empty, save for the morning breeze sweeping through and sending a few fallen leaves tumbling along.

Li Tui drew a deep breath and quickened his pace. The second corridor was narrower, with high walls on either side and only a sliver of sky overhead. When he reached its midpoint, the feeling of being watched suddenly intensified.

"Boy."

The voice came from behind him.

Every hair on Li Tui's body stood on end. Without a second thought, he lunged forward!

"Shhk!"

The back hem of his robe split open, a chill grazing his back. He rolled across the ground and sprang up, turning around.

At the far end of the corridor, a gray figure stood there, though it hadn't been there a moment ago.

He wore the coarse cloth of a servant and stooped as he stood, his face veiled by a layer of dusty gray haze. But Li Tui recognized that aura at once.

It was the Evil Cultivator Old Man.

He'd actually dared to sneak into the Zhao Mansion!

"You really think," the gray figure said, slowly raising a withered hand, "that hiding in the Zhao Family would keep you safe?"

Before the words had even left his mouth, he drifted several yards forward like a ghost, his five fingers forming claws as they shot straight for Li Tui's face! His nails were black and sharp, and his attack carried a stench of blood.

Li Tui gritted his teeth and retreated sharply, while thrusting the fingers of his right hand toward the man's wrist meridian like a sword.

"Pathetic tricks." The gray figure sneered. His wrist twisted impossibly, and his hand snatched toward Li Tui's throat.

He was too fast.

Li Tui barely managed to turn his head. The withered claw scraped past the side of his neck, and a searing pain burst across his skin. He stumbled backward, his spine slamming into the corridor wall.

The gray figure clearly had no intention of prolonging the fight. He flipped his left hand, and a blood-colored banner, barely the size of a palm, appeared in it.

The banner fluttered though there was no wind, and a shrill, mournful howl suddenly erupted!

Several blood shadows shot out of the banner, ghostlike in form, streaking toward Li Tui with trails of foul red light. The corridor was too narrow to dodge.

Blood rose in Li Tui's eyes. He could only fight for his life.

Just then—

His chest suddenly burned!

The lump shuddered violently. The dark-red patterns on its surface flared bright, like iron fresh from the forge. A savage suction force burst from within it!

"Vmmm—"

The blood shadows rushing toward him abruptly froze.

The specters, formed from blood essence and resentment, began to twist and break apart, turning into wisps of blood mist that surged uncontrollably toward Li Tui's chest!

The gray figure's pupils shrank.

He saw the dark-red lump on Li Tui's chest greedily devouring the blood mist through the tear in his robe. With each wisp it swallowed, the lump swelled a little more, and the patterns on its surface grew increasingly savage.

"What is that..." The gray figure cried out.

Li Tui himself was stunned. But with his life on the line, he reacted quickly. Taking advantage of his opponent's shaken focus, he planted his right foot against the wall and shot sharply to the left!

"Trying to run?!" the gray figure roared, flinging three blood-colored bone spikes from his sleeve.

They whistled through the air with a shrill hiss.

Without looking back, Li Tui slammed his palm against a wooden window along the corridor!

"Crash!"

The entire window shattered, sending splintered wood flying.

The loud crash carried far through the quiet morning.

The gray figure stiffened.

Hurried footsteps and shouts sounded in the distance. "The West Corridor! What was that noise?!" "Go check it out!"

He stared at Li Tui, murderous intent almost tangible in his eyes. But at least four or five guards were approaching, their auras drawing closer.

"You little bastard..." The gray figure forced the words through his teeth. His form began to blur, turning into a viscous cloud of blood smoke. "Just you wait. Sooner or later, I'll dig you out along with that treasure!"

The blood smoke darted into a crack in the ground and disappeared.

Li Tui leaned against the wall, gasping for breath. The wound on the side of his neck burned, and his chest was soaked with blood. It wasn't all blood from his injury; some of it was dark-red, sticky fluid seeping from the lump after it devoured the blood mist.

Footsteps drew near.

Four guards rushed into the corridor. Their leader was a middle-aged man Li Tui didn't recognize. His sharp gaze swept over the scattered wood and bloodstains before settling on Li Tui.

"What happened?"

Li Tui forced himself to stand straight and wiped the blood from his neck. In a hoarse voice, he said, "Someone... attacked me. I was no match for him, so I had no choice but to smash the window and sound the alarm."

The middle-aged guard frowned. "Did you get a good look at him?"

"I couldn't see his face," Li Tui said, shaking his head. "He turned into blood smoke and escaped."

The guard crouched to inspect the ground and found a dark-red stain between the blue bricks. A foul stench filled the air.

"An evil cultivator's methods." The middle-aged guard's expression turned grave. "Go get your wounds treated. I'll report this to the Deacon Hall."

Li Tui cupped his hands in thanks and hurried away, dragging his injured body along.

As he left the corridor, he glanced back at the bloodstain, cold sweat dampening his palm.

The evil cultivator had dared to attack inside the Zhao Mansion... The Small Competition had drawn a mixed crowd, and the guards had all been concentrated around the arena. That must have given him an opening.

Li Tui touched his chest. The lump had gone quiet again, but the feeling of it devouring things beyond his control still made his heart flutter with fear.

He didn't dare dwell on it and hurried toward the storehouse.

When the old storehouse steward saw the bloodstained front of Li Tui's robe, his eyelid twitched. He asked no questions, merely checked Zhao Yuanchong's token and silently handed him a wooden box.

"It can be taken internally or applied externally."

Li Tui accepted it, murmured his thanks, and gripped the box tightly as he stepped into the brightening daylight. In the distance, a bronze gong rang out with a clang from the arena.

At a quarter past the hour of the Dragon, the second day of the Small Competition officially began.