The courtyard gate was knocked on three times, but no sound came from inside.
Yi Yang knocked three more times, changing the rhythm this time: two short, one long.
At that signal, a rustling came from behind the gate, and the iron bolt was drawn back enough to open a crack.
Xu Min's voice squeezed through the gap, kept exceedingly low. "Who is it?"
"Me."
Half an eye appeared in the gap and scanned him up and down twice. Only after recognizing Yi Yang did the iron lock on the courtyard gate open fully.
The moment the gate swung open, Yi Yang saw the formation inside.
Thirty Pacification Guards had split into three groups. Two crouched in the shadows along either side of the courtyard walls, weapons clenched in their hands, sabers unsheathed. The remaining group guarded the position directly opposite the gate, their long spears braced diagonally against a low wall, spearheads pointing outward.
Everyone bore signs of having fought, and several Pacification Guards had strips of cloth wrapped around their arms, the seeping blood staining them dark red.
Four corpses lay side by side in a corner of the courtyard, covered with straw mats. The shoes sticking out were not of Great Yu make.
After Yi Yang entered, Xu Min bolted the gate again and turned around, his face filled with the relief of having survived a calamity as he said:
"My lord, thank goodness you're all right."
Yi Yang glanced at the corpses in the corner, then at several fresh saber marks on the courtyard wall. Rather than immediately asking questions, he first nodded to the Pacification Guards in the courtyard.
When the soldiers crouching in the shadows saw him return, shoulders held taut all night finally relaxed. Someone quietly slid his saber back into its sheath.