The night passed without incident.
Summer days were long. By the fourth watch, the sky was already growing light. Though something weighed on Zhang Xing's mind, he rose on schedule and headed for the Hall of Righteous Gathering, ready to take his planned turn guarding the prisoners.
Mist commonly rose in the valley on summer mornings, and at this early hour, everything was quiet.
Following his memory, Zhang Xing leaped onto the terrace in the valley where the Hall of Righteous Gathering stood and walked straight inside. As he entered the hall, he saw that Qin Bao, Qian Tang, and the other six or seven men on night duty were all standing in a row, looking at him. He greeted them from a distance.
Yet when they saw him, not one answered. Instead, they all pulled faces and shot him meaningful looks.
Still groggy, Zhang Xing naturally did not understand and continued forward. After another two steps, however, he suddenly saw a towering, imposing man seated at the head of the Hall of Righteous Gathering, his red face made all the more striking by the fire beside him. In front of the giant stood Li Ding, sporting two panda eyes, who was approaching while also shooting Zhang Xing meaningful looks.
If Zhang Xing still failed to grasp the situation at this point, his earlier experiences would have been for nothing. Alarm shot through him. He stopped, put his hand on his saber, and prepared to leave.
But just as his hand touched the hilt, the towering man raised a hand from across the hall. Zhang Xing felt a sudden, fierce pain in the hollow of his shoulder, and half his body went numb.
Only when he looked again did he discover that a small pebble had struck him. It had