After dealing with the aftermath on Antique Street, Xie Jinhuan went to the County Yamen with Yang Dabiao and the others.
Since they were reunited after a long separation, and he had also rendered a great service, Fei Ji specially arranged a banquet on Buzheng Street to welcome him back, wash away the dust of his travels, and celebrate his achievement.
For as long as Xie Jinhuan could remember, Fei Ji had been his father's childhood friend and colleague, and often took him out to have fun. His knowledge of human anatomy, the martial skills that had only reached eighth rank at sixteen, and his exceptional eye for identifying a position at a glance had all been imparted by Fei Ji, who held nothing back!
Having spent over a decade together, Xie Jinhuan truly regarded Fei Ji as an uncle and wanted to catch up, but there were too many officials and runners present. County Magistrate Wu even drank too much and insisted on kowtowing to him twice through his wails and tears, leaving him no opportunity.
Once the gathering ended, Xie Jinhuan returned to the Prince's Manor to rest.
Now, inside a guest room at the Prince's Manor, Xie Jinhuan lay on a soft couch, his white robe undone and his Ice-Scale Armor removed and draped over the backrest. A scar that had already scabbed over and healed was visible on his well-defined chest.
Linghu Qingmo sat sideways beside the couch, holding a cotton ball and carefully wiping the wound.
"Does it still hurt?"
"Just a flesh wound. I barely feel it."
"That's good..."
Remembering how smoothly Xie Jinhuan had carried out his assassination last night, Linghu Qingmo still felt a little curious.
"Where did you train before? With such seasoned experience in the martial world, your name ought