The sun, once bright, now began to fade, casting crimson and gold light across the buildings of Jade City.
Velvet District, Feng Manor.
The birthday party of the count's daughter was something no noble wanted to miss. Some came to flatter Count Feng Zhaoxi, hoping to gain his favor and increase their standing. Others came for the connections. Benefits could always be harvested at such an event.
As a student of Radiant Sky Academy, Feng Roulan naturally invited her fellow students. Thanks to that, even commoners like Meng Xuan had the chance to attend.
The manor was especially lively. Bright lamps hung all around, glowing beautifully, while banners fluttered in the evening breeze. The grand hall was covered in a red-and-gold patterned carpet stretching all the way to the main stage, where Count Feng Zhaoxi stood beside his daughter.
The hall buzzed with nobles enjoying food, wine, and conversation. Only when Count Feng raised his voice did the noise fall into silence.
"I welcome you all to my home, to witness this special day of my beautiful daughter." He turned with a smile toward the youthful lady at his side. Feng Roulan.
She had long hair adorned with delicate flowers, and wore a pink dress embroidered with golden lines across the chest. Her thin lips curved into a soft, honest smile. She was beautiful, elegant, and refined.
Count Feng himself seemed to be in his late fifties. His lake-blue eyes and weathered features carried the weight of age and authority. His aura alone marked him as a leader.
After a lengthy speech, thanking nobles and honored guests alike, he raised a wine cup.
"A toast, to long life and prosperity."
He downed the wine in one smooth motion, and the hall followed.
"To long life and prosperity," voices echoed together.
....
"What do you even see in this girl?" Fiend Monk's sardonic voice rang in Mengxuan's mind as he stared at Feng Roulan. "Her melons are only a little bigger than your girlfriend's."
Mengxuan was already used to his vulgar remarks and didn't bother scolding him.
"Really? I didn't notice," he muttered inwardly, his gaze still fixed.
Beside him, Xiao Long noticed his strange look.
"Do you like Feng Roulan? If you want, I can play middleman for you," she said with a sly grin.
I'd have believed you if it was anyone else, but I've known you too long, you cunning fox.
"Someone told me if you look at beautiful things, you'll never go blind," he replied vaguely, refusing to answer directly.
At that moment, Jiao San passed by, deliberately bumping into him with enough force to nearly topple him. The hostility toward Mengxuan grew heavier day by day.
His followers hissed as they brushed past, one of them spitting venom with his words. "We'll see who has the last laugh—our great Jiao San, or you, trash bin."
"Despicable," Xiao Long growled, about to step forward, but Meng Xuan stopped her with a hand.
"It's my fight. I'll handle it myself," he said with a smile.
Xiao Long blinked at him in puzzlement. His expression was… different.
From deep within, Mengxuan felt his bloodthirst stir.
Something is wrong. My flaw shouldn't be reacting like this. He clenched his fists. Ever since I arrived here, I've felt restless. Seeing Feng Roulan distracted me for a while, but Jiao San only triggered it further. The real reason… was already here from the beginning.
His mind flicked back to the night robber he had once encountered. His flaw had reacted then too, warning him of a dangerous presence.
There was someone here—someone with ill intent.
He quickly scanned the surroundings, but nothing seemed out of place. Nobles laughed, danced, and toasted, unaware of the creeping danger.
Meanwhile, Feng Roulan descended from the stage, personally greeting her friends and the nobles, accepting their praises and gifts with gentle grace.
Jiao San strutted toward her, pride in his steps and a warm smile plastered on his face.
Meng Xuan's sharp eyes caught sight of someone else instead. A man, likely in his late twenties, not far from him. Though he was dancing with a lady, there was something… off. His hardened face, black short hair, and pale green snake-like eyes exuded caution. He wore a fitted black robe that could pass as casual, but its cut suggested combat.
His feet moved rhythmically, too precise, as if counting down. His dance appeared natural, like that of an experienced man, but Meng Xuan had Fiend Monk. Without that legendary soul whispering at his side, he would never have noticed the difference.
Not wanting to alert the man, Meng Xuan made a quick decision—he invited Xiao Long to dance.
"You really want to dance with me?" Xiao Long asked, her smile lighting up as she took his hand.
They began to swirl together, though anyone could see one of them was far from experienced. Mengxuan's steps were clumsy, nearly sending both of them tumbling.
I shouldn't have slept through those dance classes, he cursed inwardly, his gaze still fixed on the suspicious man just a few steps away.
"Don't worry," Xiao Long laughed softly. "You'll learn little by little."
.....
In the middle of the hall, Feng Roulan smiled politely as she received Jiao San's gift—a jade case handed over by his servant.
"Thank you, Jiao San," she said graciously.
He leaned forward with a grin. "May I have the honor of a dance?"
She was about to decline, as she had done with others, when he suddenly added, "The Feng and Jiao clans would make a fine match, don't you think?"
Her brows knitted, but before she could respond, Jiao San boldly pulled her into his arms. Her eyes widened. So arrogant… does he really think he can do whatever he wants in my own house?
She was just about to shove him away when—
Darkness fell.
The hall was drowned in pitch black.
Mengxuan had been expecting something like this. The instant darkness consumed the hall, he saw the man with snake-like eyes lunge forward, his movement sharp and precise, heading straight for Feng Roulan.
Mengxuan was ready. He sprinted forward as well, aiming for the same target. He would be a fool to hesitate. Thankfully, he still had a bit of control over his flaw—otherwise, his first instinct would've been to attack the man head-on.
"Mengxuan!" Xiao Long's voice called out behind him, confused by his sudden charge.
As he dashed, knocking into tables and chairs, he realized something strange. Though the hall was shrouded in darkness, no one else reacted. Guests continued laughing and chatting as if nothing had happened.
This is his doing… Mengxuan's mind raced.
A few more steps brought him to Feng Roulan. He dragged her toward him just as the black dagger slashed down. He rolled across the floor with her, but not unscathed—the blade sliced his arm. The pain was immediate and vicious, boiling with a mixture of searing heat and bone-chilling cold.
The assassin grinned, his hardened face breaking its calm. "The deed is done." Then, without another word, he melted into the darkness.
Mengxuan didn't understand his words at first. But by the time the lights flickered back to life, he was lying on the floor with Feng Roulan clutched in his arms. She stared at him with shock and fear, her chest heaving.
Jiao San stood frozen, his face twisted in disbelief.
But everyone's eyes weren't on them. No, the entire hall stared in another direction.
Mengxuan struggled to his feet, his injured arm barely healing—strangely slow, perhaps because of that dagger's poison. He followed the stares.
At the front of the hall, a man slumped in his chair. Blood gushed endlessly from the nape of his neck. He was already dead.
The once lively hall descended into horror. Gasps and screams filled the air as fear seized every heart.
Guards scrambled, surrounding the hall and sealing the exits. Count Feng Zhaoxi bellowed commands, his aura flaring, as his holy force locked down the entire manor. Nobody would leave. Nobody would enter. Every person would be inspected.
Unbelievable. An assassination had unfolded right under their eyes, and not a single person had sensed it.
Mengxuan felt numb, his chest tightening. He was nothing but a pawn in someone else's game.