Chapter 2 Killing Intent
The night remained unchanged, and the fine drizzle fell tirelessly.
In the cold night, within the forest, a young man stood holding a sword. A corpse still hung from its blade.
In both his past and present lives, this was the first time Chu Qing had ever killed someone.
Yet perhaps because he had merged with the memories of the body's original owner, Chu Qing felt no strangeness or discomfort.
He was only a little confused.
"Why didn't anything appear above this person's head?
"The system didn't react either?"
He opened the interface but saw nothing triggered.
"Maybe I was mistaken."
With a flick of his wrist, the corpse fell from the sword.
When he first activated the system and saw the thing above Blood Spear's head, he had thought that killing someone would make something appear above their head too.
Now it seemed that wasn't the case.
Could it be that the thing above Blood Spear's head was merely the system's display method and had nothing to do with killing him?
As for the treasure chest… or the beginner's gift pack?
He didn't dwell on it for long. Although he couldn't quite make sense of it, it wasn't important.
"In that case, it seems there's no need to keep running.
"Ah Fei's Fast Sword… the fastest sword under heaven!"
The corner of Chu Qing's lips lifted slightly.
When they first met, there had been five assassins, and he had already killed one.
Of the remaining four, two were before him now.
One hung from a tree, and another lay in the mud.
That left only two.
Rather than fleeing in disgrace, it would be better to stay and wait.
Ever since the original owner had been ambushed by the Mirror of Retribution, Chu Qing knew this was a battle to the death.
The Mirror of Retribution allowed no betrayal; between them, only one could live.
Without this golden finger, even after transmigrating, he would have been hard-pressed to survive their pursuit.
But now… things were different.
If he could eradicate the remaining two assassins, he could buy himself more time.
Thinking of this, Chu Qing returned beneath the tree and sat cross-legged.
His injuries hadn't healed just because he had obtained "Ah Fei's Fast Sword," so he needed to adjust his breathing.
The Chu Family's ancestral art was called the Scripture of Seeming Emptiness, a true inheritance of the Daoist line.
One of their ancestors had once joined the Daoist sect of Empty Heart and became a direct disciple.
Three hundred years ago, as storms of blood swept through the martial world, the Empty Heart Sect failed to withstand the chaos. The sect shattered, its disciples either dead or scattered, including Chu Qing's ancestor.
With the Scripture of Seeming Emptiness and the arts of the Empty Heart Sect, he founded the Chu Family's legacy in Tianwu City.
Thus, the Scripture of Seeming Emptiness naturally became the Chu Family's hereditary martial art.
Daoist martial arts were easy to learn but difficult to master, emphasizing balance, harmony, and accumulated strength released in due time.
Their greatest advantage lay in the rarity of inner-demon deviation.
Chu Qing had begun cultivating this inner art at the age of five. After fourteen years, he had only reached the third stage.
His internal strength wasn't deep, but when circulated, his breath was light as smoke, continuous and enduring.
Such was the trait of the Scripture of Seeming Emptiness—perhaps lacking in explosive power, yet best suited for long battles.
It was by relying on this art that Chu Qing had survived the encirclement of five assassins from the Mirror of Retribution and even slain one whose martial skill surpassed his own.
Now, inner breath rose from his dantian like smoke from a furnace, flowing through his meridians to ease his injuries.
Time passed quietly. No one knew how long it had been before two figures suddenly appeared at Chu Qing's sides.
Both were dressed in black and wore masks painted with theatrical patterns.
Without saying a word after appearing, the one on the left flicked his hand.
A sharp buzzing echoed three times as three shuttle darts shot through the air straight toward Chu Qing's face.
Immediately after, the right hand concealed a short dagger behind the darts, stabbing toward Chu Qing's neck.
Another assassin flicked his wrist, releasing a rope dart.
The rope dart was a soft weapon—its cord ended with a sharp, pointed dart.
When used, it required the wielder to gather momentum, channeling the motion of the body into the rope to send the dart flying. Its power was remarkable, and its trajectory unpredictable and difficult to guard against.
Yet this man's technique was exceptional. With a single swing, the rope dart carried the sound of wind and thunder, striking with lightning speed.
Both assassins aimed to kill. If Chu Qing were struck by either attack, he would die instantly.
In that moment, Chu Qing's eyes snapped open. His body rose smoothly into the air, his sword flicking upward to knock aside the three darts in an instant. Then, with a thrust of the blade, there came a sharp tearing sound.
The sword passed the left assassin's dagger by a hair's breadth, the weapons clashing with sparks.
Steel crossed steel—one pierced a throat, while the other halted just before his chest.
At the same time, the rope dart shot toward Chu Qing's back.
Chu Qing struck aside the dagger before him, then stepped forward, using his sword to press against the body of the assassin before him.
One step. Two steps. Three steps.
After the third, his foot paused. He turned and swung his sword backward—there was a clear metallic ring.
The rope dart's head was sliced clean off.
It had reached its limit—unable to go any farther.
The assassin behind him, a veteran in his craft, was unfazed even when the dart's head was cut off.
He simply pulled the rope back to regain control.
Just as he was about to strike again, a glint of silver flashed at the edge of his vision. Looking down, he found a sword already embedded in his throat.
When?
His eyes went wide in disbelief. He tried to speak, but only a gurgling sound escaped his mouth—no words came out.
Chu Qing flicked his sword, drawing it free. The assassin's corpse fell into the muddy water with a splash.
Chu Qing himself staggered, taking a deep breath to steady his footing.
"It's done… If the Mirror of Retribution hasn't sent anyone else after these five, then I've finally shaken them off—for now."
He was, after all, gravely wounded. Though his recent battle seemed effortless, it had drained him deeply.
His internal energy was nearly exhausted; had there been even a few more enemies, he might not have survived.
Even so, Chu Qing moved with his usual composure, searching the bodies one by one.
In the end, he gathered a few taels of broken silver, some banknotes, and several small items. He didn't plan to use the banknotes—many required specific money houses to exchange for silver.
If their original owners had ties to those money houses, or if the notes bore hidden marks, using them carelessly could lead to trouble.
Aside from that, there were some unknown medicines and a letter sealed with red wax.
There was no recipient written on it, but the use of a wax seal suggested it wasn't simple.
"For now, it's safe. But since these five won't return tonight, the Mirror of Retribution will surely send more assassins after me."
"It's already a dead-end situation. Offending them a little further makes no difference."
Chu Qing shook his head lightly and tore open the letter.
Its contents were chaotic—clearly a coded message.
Having spent nearly a year within the Mirror of Retribution, Chu Qing naturally knew how to decipher it. Following the method, he soon revealed a single line of text:
[Iron Palm Du'e—Chu Yunfei, five thousand taels!]
Chu Qing's brow twitched. Chu Yunfei… wasn't that the original body's father?
(End of Chapter)