The attack

The Zhou Family Distillery.

The rich aroma of rice wine wafted in every direction. Beyond the high gray walls, inside a two-story brothel half a street away.

A tall man wearing a white mask stood by the window. He needed only to raise his eyes to see this Zhou Family property.

The eyes behind the mask held utter indifference, without a trace of warmth.

Music from a zither drifted through the room as dancing girls performed. Besides White Face, several exceptionally burly men were present, all thick-bearded, with sabers at their waists and a murderous air about them.

Among Qian Zhen's men, anyone who could rise to White Face's position was no fool. Strength and methods were both indispensable.

Naturally, none of his subordinates were useless either. They were all formidable fighters within Body Condensation.

After gazing into the distance for a long while, White Face turned and brought his palms together.

Clap, clap.

Two claps rang out.

One of his subordinates immediately rose and barked at the brothel women, "All of you, leave."

None of the women dared speak. They could only withdraw from the room.

Once only his own people remained, White Face asked, "What happened to the man sent to probe them yesterday?"

This was his habit. Knowing the eldest young master's temperament very well, he had foreseen the present situation almost as soon as they began competing with the Zhou Family for business.

Sending someone ahead to test the waters was therefore routine.

Someone answered, "The man we sent didn't return. The brothers reckon he's probably dead."

"Hmm?" A questioning sound rose from White Face's throat.

The man immediately stood up, the jovial expression vanishing from his face. Lowering his head, he continued, "The man we sent wasn't weak. The Zhou Family already had a guard at greater mastery of Body Condensation. He likely died at that guard's hands."

"We cannot be careless. We move tonight, and I need everything foolproof. Everyone, put in some extra effort. Pin down Zhou Buren's route home completely, then mobilize every man we have. Kill him and leave."

As the man responsible for intelligence under Qian Zhen, tracking people's movements was quite easy for him. He had already investigated most of the Zhou Family's people thoroughly.

Another man spoke up to ask, "Then how should we handle the Zhou Family's fourth son? He has taken a great master as his teacher. He poses something of a threat."

White Face looked over, his emotions barely stirring. "A sickly wastrel who has only studied under a master for a few days is nothing to worry about. Go kill him along the route he has to take!"

The man who had spoken felt a surge of delight.

This was a good thing!

Who didn't like picking the softest persimmon to squeeze?

The dangers surrounding Zhou Buren were unknown, but everything about that wastrel was out in the open. He had only ever wandered between those few places, and no one had seen him do anything particularly extraordinary.

The chief credit this time would surely be his.

"I'll head over right away!"

With that, he left his seat and walked out under his colleagues' envious gazes.

"All right, get ready. An assassination must be foolproof. Besides me, Nineteen will also be coming this time. Even if the Zhou Family has a Blood Gate Martial Artist, he will still die without question!"

His subordinates all voiced their assent.

Time flew, and evening soon arrived.

Just as Zhou Muzhi finished his work, Li Jingfei's grandson came running over, his little figure carrying a folded sheet of paper. His childish voice rang out.

"Big Brother Muzhi, a little beggar came by outside and said this had to be delivered to you."

Looking at the well-behaved Li Hong, who only reached his thigh, Zhou Muzhi took the paper and patted his head.

"All right, let me see."

As he spoke, he unfolded the paper and looked at the crooked handwriting on it.

One glance swept over it, and his gaze immediately darkened.

This was a letter from Third Master. As one of the county town's lowlifes, the man did have some ability. He used the beggar children under his control to watch for strangers near the Zhou Family's properties.

This method had worked remarkably well. Third Master really had discovered something amiss, and now he had sent a letter to warn Zhou Muzhi.

"Tell your grandfather I have something to take care of and have left early," Zhou Muzhi said, crouching down.

Li Hong nodded. "Mm-hmm, I understand."

After speaking, Zhou Muzhi left the Li Family residence, called for his family's carriage, and set off through the gloom.

The dim sky turned completely black, and the clouds rose a little higher. After remaining overcast all day, the heavens ultimately failed to release any rain.

The carriage traveled onward past the candlelight from the little houses lining the road. It was not fast; in fact, it could be called exceedingly slow.

A figure silently appeared on a rooftop at the intersection ahead.

Having changed into night clothes, the assassin fixed his eyes on the carriage moving through the darkness.

He carefully compared it against his memories and finally confirmed there was no mistake. This was the Zhou Family carriage carrying the man he was about to kill.

One hand gripped a horse-chopping saber as tall as a man. Killing intent surged as he watched his target draw closer and closer.

Ten meters.

Five meters.

Three meters.

Now!

Switching from a one-handed grip to both hands, he leaped from the roof, the pitch-black saber gleam aimed straight at the middle of the carriage.

The assassin's eyes reddened with excitement. As the horse-chopping saber fell all the way and the carriage's wood creaked beneath the unbearable burden, he gave a loud laugh.

"The paltry Zhou Family!"

Crash!

The carriage shattered. Beneath the horse-chopping saber's sweeping, heavy cleave, the fairly sturdy carriage was utterly wrecked.

The horse whinnied as the weight tugged against its body. Nearly half its body was deformed, and it could no longer stand.

After delivering that strike, the horse-chopping saber was ruined as well.

Just then, an unhurried voice drifted over.

"A Qian Family man?"

"Huh?" The assassin's expression changed drastically, and he looked toward the source of the voice.

He only had to raise his head slightly to see Zhou Muzhi holding an old man in one hand, his other hand behind his back. Beneath the moonlight, the youth's features were exceptionally handsome, his bearing proud.

"You!"

Disbelief filled his eyes.

What was going on?

Wasn't the Zhou Family's fourth son supposed to be the most useless?

How had he suddenly escaped onto the rooftop under that killing strike?

Impossible. Absolutely impossible!

He shook his head, unable to accept it for a moment.

Zhou Muzhi's voice came again.

"You seem rather puzzled. That's all right. Now I ask, and you answer."

Hearing this, the assassin's face turned vicious.

"What a joke! You expect me to listen to-!"

With a swish, he felt his vision go dark, then brighten again.

He had no idea what had happened. Suddenly, as though he had lost control of his lower body, he toppled down and could no longer get up.

Looking at Zhou Muzhi, who had appeared before him like a ghost, the assassin finally wore the expression of someone who had seen one.

What was with this man's speed? Was he even human?

And what had happened to him?

Zhou Muzhi spoke again. "I just broke your lumbar spine. Right now, you cannot move your lower body. Next, I'll break your cervical spine. Then only your facial features will be of any use."

This was what made One Qi terrifying. When facing an enemy, one could even kill them at extreme speed while they remained unaware.

Only then did the assassin belatedly realize it. The slightest movement brought bone-piercing pain. Large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, and his face turned pale.

Yet he gave a loud laugh.

"Pah! You mere brat, I'll be waiting down below for you and your brother. Come keep me company together when the time comes!"

Zhou Muzhi frowned. He had not expected the man to remain so stubborn.

He stepped forward and tapped with his toe. With a crack, the man's entire neck twisted into a grotesque shape, and all signs of life ceased.

Then he turned to the old coachman, who had yet to recover from his fright, and asked, "Which ward has my second brother been in lately?"