After checking Wu Mo's condition, Ding Songyan turned sideways and looked toward the distant rooftops, trees, and night sky.
A cold breeze blew gently. Everything was as quiet and still as ever.
Not only had the guards on duty and patrol shown no response, even the Watchtower several hundred zhang away remained silent.
Though this is only the edge of Prince Kang's Residence, security is still tight. With the Watchtower's surveillance and the soldiers' night patrols, an ordinary martial grandmaster couldn't slip in like a ghost, hurt someone, and withdraw without a sound... Seems this wasn't the fearlessness of ignorance, but the boldness born of skill... Ding Songyan quickly assessed the feat and felt he could barely manage it himself.
He had only sensed the stone instinctively and woken from his dream when it flew within five zhang of him. The attacker, however, had been so certain of the outcome that they had already slipped away.
By then, Li Baima and Fan Chunlin had also been woken by Wu Mo's cry of pain and hurried over with clothes thrown around their shoulders.
"Someone hit you in the head too?" The sight gave Fan Chunlin a pang of phantom pain, and he raised a hand to rub the bruised swelling on his forehead.
Li Baima asked urgently:
"Did you see who did it?"
Wu Mo had calmed down somewhat. He shook his head and said:
"I only woke from the pain when the stone hit my head. There wasn't a soul outside."
The eight-chi-tall man, whose appearance somewhat resembled an ape's, glanced around, then suddenly lowered his voice:
"Brother Li, Fourth Brother Fan, Brother Ding, could we keep this from Eunuch Zhang and Steward Peng? It's no great matter if I'm punished, but I'm afraid my sect will get dragged into