The morning bell marking the hour of the Hare had just rung when Qing Chen stood atop the watchtower at the western city gate, glancing toward the distant city lord's residence.
The building with especially thick walls in the northwestern corner was the treasury he had been watching for over a month.
He had not been idle during that month and more.
By day, he used his position as assistant military officer at the western city gate to cozy up to officials from the city lord's residence.
By night, he hung around with Li Muyun, chatting and learning the ins and outs of the place.
Qing Chen recorded all this information on a sheet of coarse paper, folded it into a small square, and tucked it into his boot.
According to the information he had gathered, there were two places where the city lord was most likely to keep his treasures:
One was the city lord's study, where he routinely handled official business and private affairs, making it highly likely to be an important repository of treasures.
The other was the treasury within the city lord's residence, which had always been where the city lord rewarded and treated his subordinates, and was naturally another possible hiding place for treasures.
That night, clouds obscured most of the moon, leaving the moonlight somewhat hazy.
Qing Chen changed into coarse black hemp clothes that would not stand out at night, with a cloth soaked in a stupefying drug, a length of wire, and a double-layered kraft paper packet tucked into his belt.
He darted out of the shadows beneath the rear wall of the city lord's residence, touching his toes to the bluestone slabs at its base without making the slightest sound.
After reaching minor mastery in the Phantom Double, his footsteps were lighter than a cat's.
Hooking his fingertips into the gaps in the wall, he climbed using the Gecko Wall Traversal Art, his palms pressed against the bricks, feeling their rough surfaces.
The wall was old, and a little moss had grown in the gaps between the bricks, making them slippery.
When he reached the top, he crouched low and saw two guards at the treasury entrance dozing against the pillars, their long spears planted at an angle on the ground.
Qing Chen took out the cloth and lightly jumped down.
His knees bent slightly as he landed, absorbing the impact. He slipped behind the guards, covered the left-hand guard's mouth with his left hand, and brought the cloth in his right hand up to his face.
The guard's nose twitched, and just as he was about to struggle, his body went limp.
Qing Chen caught him, slowly lowered him into a corner, and subdued the other guard the same way.
In no more than half the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the treasury entrance was clear.
The treasury had a wooden door studded with copper nails and a brass lock bearing signs of wear.
Qing Chen took out the wire, inserted it into the keyhole, and gently turned it with his fingertips.
He had recently learned in secret how to pick small locks, and now, aided by his internal force, he shaped the wire's curve just right.
With a soft click, the lock opened.
He pushed the door open, and a metallic smell washed over him.
Qing Chen took out a firelighter, blew it alight, and waved it around.
Several rows of shelves stood inside the treasury, while sabers, spears, swords, and halberds hung on the walls; the ring-pommel saber at the very top had a sharkskin sheath.
The pill bottles on the shelves were made of jade or porcelain, with labels written in cinnabar; some characters had blurred, leaving only words such as "blood replenishment," "bone strengthening," and "yang retention" legible.
Dozens of suits of dark iron armor were piled in a corner, their plates dented as though struck with blunt weapons.
He had no time to examine them closely, keeping his eyes on the top shelf; according to Li Muyun, valuable things were all kept up high.
But just as he reached out, a sudden chill struck the back of his neck, as though a needle had pricked him.
Qing Chen whirled around and saw an old man in a gray cloth robe crouched on a beam, his half-white hair tied in a topknot and the calluses on his hands even thicker than Qing Chen's.
"Boy, you've got some nerve, daring to break into the city lord's treasury."
The old man's voice was quiet, but carried force.
Before Qing Chen could speak, the old man's palm struck toward him, and Qing Chen barely had time to raise his own palm to meet it.
Bang!
His palm felt as though an iron hammer had smashed into it, and numbness shot up his arm to his shoulder. He staggered back two steps and collided with a shelf, sending a bottle of pills tumbling down to shatter on the floor with a crack, scattering medicinal powder everywhere.
"How could you detect me?"
The old man frowned and stroked his beard. "With your internal power, you're a Second-Rate Master at most. By all rights, you shouldn't have discovered me hiding on the beam."
Qing Chen said nothing, only tightening his grip on the kraft paper packet in his hand.
He knew this old man was not to be trifled with. His palm strikes were far more powerful than Qing Chen's, and fighting him head-on was out of the question.
Seeing that he refused to answer, the old man grew angry and struck with his palm again. This blow was fiercer than the last, and Qing Chen could feel even the air tightening under the pressure of the palm wind.
He hurriedly retreated, stepping onto the scattered medicinal powder and using its slipperiness to dart sideways as he pulled out the kraft paper packet.
"Old bastard, taste my black fire!" Qing Chen rasped, hurling the packet toward the old man's face.
"Despicable and shameless!"
Thinking it was black fire, the old man's expression changed-the treasury was full of flammable things, and if a fire really broke out, he could not shoulder the responsibility.
The old man hurriedly swept out his palm, trying to send the packet away, but the moment his palm wind touched it, the double layer of kraft paper tore apart!
Pale yellow dust burst out with a whoosh, enveloping the old man.
"This is..." The old man was about to curse when he suddenly felt his face burning, his breathing growing heavy, and the strength in his body seeming to surge toward one spot.
Qing Chen cackled beside him. "Haha, old bastard, this is twenty times as potent as an ordinary aphrodisiac! You'll have plenty to play with tonight, old bastard. I won't be keeping you company! Hahaha!"
He wasted no more time, turning and running toward the treasury's rear window.
Outside the window, the moon had just emerged from the clouds, brightening the ground a little.
Qing Chen stepped on the windowsill and leaped out. The moment he landed, he heard pounding footsteps.
The armored soldiers outside the treasury had sounded the alarm and were running toward him, the clatter of their armor plates especially grating.
By now, the old man's blood and qi were surging. He had no time to give chase, nor even to curse, and could only sit down to meditate and regulate his breathing, yet no matter what he did, he struggled to suppress it...
"Catch the assassin! Don't let him get away!" someone shouted.
Qing Chen dared not look back. His figure left an afterimage as he ran toward the servants' courtyard to the east.
Relying on the two supreme lightness techniques, the Phantom Double and the Gecko Wall Traversal Art, he embarked on a hair-raising escape.
The servants' courtyard wall was low. He pushed off the ground with his toes and vaulted over it in one leap, landing soundlessly on a pile of hay.
The shouts of pursuit behind him drew ever closer, and torchlight swept across the top of the wall.
Qing Chen hurriedly slipped into the woodshed beside him. It was used to store miscellaneous items, and its unlocked door opened with a push.
The interior was full of cobwebs and the musty smell of wood. He hid beneath the woodpile and held his breath.
He could hear the guards' footsteps outside. "Search this area carefully. Don't let the assassin hide here!"
Qing Chen adjusted his breathing, letting his internal force circulate slowly through his body. His shoulder still hurt from the jarring injury he had suffered when exchanging palm strikes with the old man.
Afterward, his figure darted swiftly among lofts, corridors, and courtyards.
At times he concealed himself in the shadows, at times he leaped high into the air, and at times he hid among the artificial rock formations.
Like a nimble gecko, he crawled freely over walls and rocks.
After an arduous struggle and a series of evasive maneuvers, Qing Chen was forced to hide inside a secluded loft.