Yin Po had been different from the moment he appeared.
He did not skim along the ground like Ji Jian and charge straight in.
Nor did he dart left and right across the flat ground like Zheng Ji, bypassing Ji Jian to make for the rear.
He was like a master making his entrance at the finale.
He waited for the Rail-Car to arrive, then made it seem as though the Rail-Car had taken the initiative to meet him.
At the right moment, in the right place, he cut in swiftly.
It saved time and effort, while remaining perfectly precise.
He flowed down from the earthen mound, his black robe trailing soundlessly across the ground like a dark cloud drifting over the earth.
He stopped at the ideal point beside the tracks to cut in, positioned exactly along the line where the middle carriage of the Rail-Car would pass.
The car body came whistling in from ahead.
His right hand gripped the judge's brush, its tip pointing upward and hidden within his sleeve, while his left hand lightly rested against the carriage's outer wall for leverage.
His body moved with the carriage, like a piece of black cloth clinging to an iron shell, so light it seemed weightless.
His face bore an air of ease and unhurried grace.
As though everything was under his control.
But just as he prepared to look through the window for Ying Zheng's position, what he saw when he poked his head up was an entire row of Repeating Crossbows aimed straight at his face.
The crossbow windows were open.
At least two guards stood behind every window. The front row crouched, the rear row stood; the front row's Repeating Crossbows aimed downward outside the windows, while the rear row cocked theirs, ready to take