Shu Mingye heard the chaos from a far—clashing swords, sparks flying in red and green like some bizarre fireworks show in the dark. Linyue's warning echoed in his head: No matter what happens, don't move.
Right. As if that was going to happen. Shu Mingye, professional rule-breaker and lifelong menace to common sense, had never followed orders that sounded too polite.
So of course, he walked straight toward the sound.
As he crept closer, the scene unfolded like something out of a play, except with more murder.
One figure in black was charging forward with flames leaping off his sword Another figure moved so quickly and lightly, Shu Mingye almost missed her until he spotted the flash of a dagger and realized it wasn't a performance. It was a precision stabbing. She spun, ducked, kicked, and jabbed in a rhythm that was almost… graceful. As if stabbing people was part of an elegant choreography.
Then came the third person.
Shu Mingye couldn't see his face yet, but the sword—that was all he needed. Massive. Glowing green. Radiating earth spiritual energy so thick it practically stomped the ground with every breath.
General Zimo.
Shu Mingye stared, expression caught between shock and mild betrayal.
Is this…is this the 'thing' she wanted to smuggle out?
This wasn't a thing! This was a walking war machine!
"Is she out of her mind?" he muttered, mostly to the ceiling, which had seen everything and offered no help.
Behind him, one of his own guards whispered, "Should we… do something?"
Shu Mingye raised a hand. "Yes," he said grimly. "We pray."
He remembered that weird look she gave Zimo when they arrived at the palace. There was something there. Something sharp and unfinished. But this? Luring him into a secret tunnel and stabbing him?
Bold. Insane. Genuinely impressive. And also extremely reckless.
Zimo wasn't some minor official with a title and no skills. Zimo was powerful, Shu Mingye knew that firsthand. If the fake princess had told him what she was planning, he would've helped. Happily. No questions asked. Nothing brought a smile to his face quite like breaking the emperor's toys.
But no. Of course not. Because they didn't trust each other. Not really. Just a deal. A suspicious, vague, occasionally illegal deal. With no room for teamwork or strategy meetings.
Still, this fight wasn't like the flashy little scuffle back in the alley, where everyone fought like they were on stage trying to impress a crowd. This was a real fight, where one wrong move meant someone was going to stop breathing. And yet, neither the fake princess nor her gloomy sidekick hesitated. They weren't backing down. Not even a little. Shu Mingye frowned.
"Unbelievable," he muttered. "She really is trying to get herself killed in the most theatrical way possible."
He couldn't see their faces in the dark, but their movements told him everything.
This wasn't luck.
This was training. Sharp, fast, deliberate. Every step hit its mark, every swing had weight behind it. They weren't stumbling around hoping to land a lucky strike. This was planned.
The fake princess moved too fast. Unnaturally fast. And she didn't even use her spiritual energy. Not a flicker. Just raw skill. Her steps were light, her strikes clean, her timing brutal. Graceful, elegant… but also extremely interested in stabbing people.
As for her so-called bodyguard, the black-robed guy throwing flames around, he definitely wasn't on Zimo's level. But he didn't care. He kept charging forward anyway, full of bad ideas and chaotic enthusiasm. His cultivation was high. Shu Mingye could feel it.
He narrowed his eyes. This little strange group was not some random con artist. They were more dangerous than that. That fake princess martial arts were not a joke at all. No one picked that up from reading scripts and daydreaming under peach trees. And the other guy, despite his habit of yelling nonsense mid-fight, was also no beginner.
The possibility that they were hired by Concubine Xiang was getting slimmer. From their skills, it made more sense to call them assassins. But from their appearance, they looked more like a strange traveling circus that had lost its way into a battlefield and decided to stay.
If they were assassins, then he was probably not the target. Maybe.
Judging by everything they'd done so far, it looked like they had their own plan. Something that he couldn't guess.
Then, he saw it.
The dagger. Glinting in the dark. Buried deep into Zimo's right shoulder.
Shu Mingye blinked, then almost involuntarily smiled.
What a dirty move.
He approved.
It wasn't just the dagger. It was the timing of it. Clean, precise, and unfair in all the best ways. She hadn't hesitated. No speech. No dramatic warning. Just stab. Straight to the point. Literally.
But what made Shu Mingye's eyebrows actually rise was what happened next.
Zimo's massive sword—his proud, glowing, earth-infused mountain sword—vanished. Poof. One second it was there, humming with power, and the next, it simply wasn't. Just disappeared.
Shu Mingye grinned.
Ah. So she did have something up her sleeve after all.
The dagger wasn't just metal. It was poisoned. Of course it was. Of course she would poison it. What kind of villain lures a war general into a possibly collapsing tunnel without poison?
His smile stretched wider. He liked her style. Very underhanded. Very effective.
Still, even without spiritual energy, Zimo wasn't just some old man who could be shoved over. He was a high-level cultivator. Built like an iron wall. Taking him down wasn't going to be easy.
Shu Mingye debated silently: Should he keep watching? Or jump in and help?
It was getting dangerously close to collapse and homicide. But on the other hand, this was very entertaining. Just as he was about to maybe consider doing something useful, the situation took a sharp left turn into absolute chaos.
The dramatic troupe—because that's what they were at this point—somehow decided to turn the whole life-and-death battle into a slapstick comedy show.
The guard, the one with flames and far too much confidence for someone clearly outmatched, charged again. His sword blazed with fire, his face full of determination. A noble attempt.
Zimo—poisoned, unarmed, clearly furious—didn't dodge.
He just reached out and grabbed the flaming blade. With. His. Bare. Hand.
Shu Mingye winced.
A sizzling crack filled the air. Instantly, the sharp scent of burnt flesh filled the tunnel. Thick and awful. And yet, the man didn't flinch. Didn't scream. Just held that fiery blade firmly.
Then because apparently he wasn't done being terrifying, he shoved the sword. Hard.
The poor guard went flying, smacked into the tunnel wall with a loud thud, and slid down in a heap.
"My sword!" He Yuying wheezed from the ground, holding his back with one hand and dramatically reaching toward the heavens with the other. "He bent my sword… and possibly my spine."
Linyue, who had been mid-step toward Zimo again, paused. "You can bend it back later. Get up."
"I think I broke something important," he muttered.
"You'll live."
"Will I?"
Shu Mingye let out a slow exhale. He still wasn't sure if they were elite assassins or just extremely gifted lunatics. Either way… he was definitely not bored.
And then came the real tragedy.
Linyue lunged, all graceful motion and sharp precision. It was going perfectly. Until her foot caught something. Or rather someone. Specifically, He Yuying's very unfortunate hand, which was reaching heroically (and pathetically) for his poor bent sword in the middle of the tunnel.
She stumbled forward with the most undignified oomph in history and crashed straight into the ground. Right at Zimo's feet.
He Yuying let out a pained wheeze. "Ow. Now my hand's broken. And possibly my pride."
Linyue tried to push herself up, eyes still sharp despite the fall. But Zimo, burned hand and all. moved with terrifying speed. His fingers closed around her neck.
Before she could blink, he'd lifted her clean off the ground and slammed her into the tunnel wall. Hard. The wall thudded, dust shook loose from the ceiling, and even the tunnel itself sounded like it muttered "ouch."
Now she was dangling there, pinned on the wall. Zimo's hand around her throat and his face twisted with pure fury.
While Shu Mingye's smiles vanished.
Was this... also part of the plan? Because if it was, then this plan had definitely taken a sharp turn from "sneaky and clever" to "absolutely messy."
He Yuying groaned from the floor. "Can we all agree that this went off-script?"
No one answered. Mostly because one of them was choking. And the others were too stunned to even breathe.