In the narrow alley, only Yuhui and Yang Cheng were left. Yang Cheng didn't need to guess to know the imperial guards outside had been arranged by his mother, Yun Liyue. She had clearly made thorough preparations behind the scenes to protect him. So many elite assassins had failed to harm him.
But the world was unpredictable. Even Yun Liyue had limits to her reach. She hadn't foreseen that among Yang Cheng's personal guards, there would be one hiding as an enemy assassin. That caught Yang Cheng completely by surprise as well.
He was no stranger to Yuhui. This man had served as a palace guard for ten years. In his previous life, because Yang Cheng was a worthless failure, Yuhui had never revealed himself. Later, Yuhui ended up serving Yang Xiu. By then, Yang Xiu was already emperor, and most of the palace guards had sworn loyalty to him. Yuhui's choice hadn't seemed odd to Yang Cheng at the time, so he had never guarded against him.
But now, in this life, his changes had triggered a butterfly effect, causing many things to unfold differently. He realized he could no longer rely too much on his past-life knowledge.
There was no time left to think. In the blink of an eye, Yuhui raised his sword, slashing straight for Yang Cheng's head.
In that instant, Yang Cheng's once clear, innocent eyes seemed to be consumed by a blood-red night, their light transforming in a heartbeat. A glint of cold, bloodthirsty ferocity appeared in his pupils. His gaze lost every trace of a baby's softness, turning cold and ruthless like an old demon who had weathered countless slaughters and centuries of darkness.
Yuhui hesitated, a chill surging through him. He couldn't believe he would see such a terrifying look in the eyes of a baby crown prince. But in the moment of his daze, Yang Cheng struck like lightning.
He was holding a wooden sword—a gift from Emperor Qian Yuan meant as his first training sword. But no one had ever paid attention to it, thinking it was just a baby's toy.
Yang Cheng knew better. This sword wasn't just any beginner's weapon; it was Emperor Qian Yuan's own training sword from his youth. Though it wasn't sharp, its hardness rivaled that of many treasured blades.
Clang!
The two swords clashed violently. Yang Cheng blocked Yuhui's strike head-on. Right then, he felt firsthand what Innate Divine Strength truly meant. He was barely over one year old, yet his strength rivaled Yuhui's, a seasoned Houtian martial artist.
Of course, Yang Cheng was well aware of his weaknesses. His cultivation was far too low, and his infant body was still fragile, incapable of prolonged battle. If this was all he had, he knew he would surely lose.
"Monster! You're a monster!" Yuhui shouted, eyes wide with terror. But fear quickly ignited his fury. He crazily poured his true energy into his sword.
Buzz!
Rays of sword energy burst forth, about to finish Yang Cheng off. But at that moment, a strange suction came from Yang Cheng's wooden sword. It felt like a black hole had opened within it, sucking in all of Yuhui's unleashed sword energy.
The rage on Yuhui's face instantly turned to panic. "What kind of sorcery is this?" he shouted. He tried to pull his sword free, but it was as if it were stuck in the void—he couldn't budge it at all. His strength poured out of him uncontrollably, like a dam breaking and flooding away his power.
In just a few breaths, his body started to weaken rapidly. Yang Cheng sensed something outside the alley: footsteps approaching.
Someone was getting closer.
Taking advantage of Yuhui's distraction, Yang Cheng decisively kicked out with brutal force. Yuhui was sent flying on the spot. Yang Cheng didn't give him a chance to recover. His body moved like a rabbit darting out, pouncing straight at Yuhui. Along the way, he scooped up the sword Zhang Qian had dropped on the ground. Without a shred of hesitation, he slashed the blade across Yuhui's throat.
Yuhui's neck was cut open instantly, blood gushing out like a fountain. He clutched his throat, eyes wide in disbelief. Yang Cheng ignored him completely, calmly wiping the hilt of the sword clean of fingerprints with his sleeve before placing it back into Zhang Qian's hand. This scene alone chilled Yuhui to the bone, dread flooding his entire body.
All of this took place in just a few breaths.
"Your Highness!"
Several guards sensed something wrong and came rushing over. When they arrived at the alley and saw the scene inside, they froze in shock.
"Your Highness, what happened here?" one burly guard asked urgently.
"Yuhui tried to assassinate me. Zhang Qian fought desperately to protect me," Yang Cheng said evenly. "Zhang Qian managed to gravely wound Yuhui but was killed by Yuhui in the process."
Yuhui tried to open his mouth as if to speak, but with his throat slit, he couldn't make a sound. Blood gushed out of his mouth instead.
Whoosh!
A shadow flickered across the rooftop nearby. Hu Po landed next to Yuhui with practiced ease.
"Palace Commandant," the guards greeted her respectfully. Though Hu Po always appeared humble and deferential in front of Yun Liyue and Yang Cheng, she was an undisputed authority figure to everyone else in the palace.
"Palace Commandant, should we bring Yuhui back alive for interrogation?" the same burly guard asked.
Hu Po shook her head. "He's beyond saving. Dispose of him here. Keep Zhang Qian's body safe and bring it back so Her Majesty can decide what to do."
With Yuhui's throat cut open, he wouldn't survive. There was no point dragging him back. But Zhang Qian had died protecting the crown prince—a meritorious deed. His family would surely be rewarded.
Yang Cheng stayed silent. Even though he hadn't killed Zhang Qian, the man had died because of him. Granting Zhang Qian this posthumous honor was the least he could do.
At that moment, none of the guards suspected Yang Cheng. There were only three people in the alley: Yuhui, Zhang Qian, and the crown prince. To everyone else, the only logical explanation was that Zhang Qian and Yuhui had perished fighting each other.
Hu Po did notice something odd—Yuhui's body felt unusually depleted, like all his inner energy had been drained. But she didn't probe further. With both men dead, any secrets they held died with them.
The burly guard stepped forward, stomping down hard on Yuhui's chest, snapping his heart meridian and ending him instantly.
"Your Highness, please come with me," Hu Po said, reaching out to pick Yang Cheng up.
Yang Cheng didn't resist, letting her carry him. His mind, however, was completely focused inward, down in his dantian.
The others simply assumed the day's events had frightened him. Even though the crown prince was precocious, he was still only a little over a year old. What had happened would have terrified any adult, let alone a baby.
'There's so much energy inside me,' Yang Cheng thought, waves of excitement rolling through his heart. All this power had come from Yuhui. As a sword cultivator, Yuhui's unleashed sword energy had been doomed the moment it faced the Hunyuan Devouring Sword Body's power. This was Yang Cheng's first time experiencing just how domineering the Hunyuan Devouring Sword Body could be.
Yuhui was a formidable Houtian expert, yet he hadn't stood a chance. The energy Yang Cheng devoured was swiftly transformed by the Hunyuan Devouring Sword Body into his own life force. By the time he finished absorbing it all, his cultivation rocketed from early Houtian straight to the peak of the Houtian realm.
During the entire process, Yang Cheng used the Great Divination Breathing Technique to hide the fluctuations in his aura. The guards around him remained completely unaware of the earth-shaking change happening within him.