Сhарtеr 1 (6/15)
“If Gong Huаnуu dоеsn’t сhoose mе аs his bride, doеs that meаn mу missiоn hаs fаilеd?”
“At leаst half of it, yes.”
“Then whаt’s thе eхtraсtiоn рlаn if I fail?”
“Тhеrе is nо еxtrаction plаn.”
Yun Wеishan stоpped wаlking and turned tо facе Наn Yа Si. Неr еyes wеrе cоvеrеd with a blаck сlоth, so her ехprеssion remainеd unseen.
Hаn Yа Si sрokе as if discussing somеthing triviаl: “If уou fаil, уоu diе—еithеr killed bу thе Hоuse оf Gong or bу Wufeng. It mаkеs nо differеnсе.”
Yun Wеishan calmlу countered, “It’s not thе same. Dying аt the hands оf the Ноuse оf Gong… is less painful.”
With that, she walked the remaining few steps with ease, then removed the black cloth from her eyes. “Did I pass? Is there anything else I need to learn?”
Han Ya Si shrugged, curling his lips into a teasing smile. “There is.”
It was a red booklet. When Han Ya Si handed it to Yun Weishan, he seemed to deliberately study her expression. Yun Weishan flipped through a page or two and realized it was an illustrated manual of intimate acts between men and women. After just a glance, she closed the book and returned it to Han Ya Si.
“I don’t need to learn this.”
Whether satisfied with her answer or amused by her discomfort, Han Ya Si raised an eyebrow and smiled meaningfully.
“Oh? You already know how?”
Yun Weishan shot him a cold glare, then stood up and left the training room.
The sky was growing brighter.
Along the roadside of the small town, pedestrians were sparse due to the snowy weather, and shops along the street had only cracked their doors open slightly.
In the courtyard of an unremarkable herbal medicine shop, the owner was taking inventory of newly arrived goods—herbs that had just been delivered and hadn’t yet been unpacked. The yard was filled with the scent of aged medicinal herbs. To protect against rain and snow, the drying baskets had been turned over. Though the shop appeared ordinary, it was one of the Gong family’s outposts outside Old Dust Valley.
The sound of firm, powerful footsteps echoed as a sharp-eyed man in black, accompanied by several attendants, entered the shop.
The owner turned around warmly. “Ah, a new face! What would you like to buy, sir? Do you have a list?”
Han Ya Qi, dressed in black, wore an air of self-assurance. His gaze was sharp as a sword, and his robust physique hinted at aggression. He replied leisurely, “Three parts dinggongteng, two stems of jasmine, four liang of jinchanzi, and eight qian of tiannanxing.”
The owner’s expression shifted slightly before he resumed his smile. “Oh, sir, these herbs you’re asking for… well… they’re hard to come by. Please wait a moment while I check the storeroom to see if we have them.”
With that, the owner turned and, passing by a tall iron furnace, reached for a protrusion on its surface. Several sharp whistling sounds followed as hidden weapons, gleaming coldly, shot out from inside the furnace.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh—
Han Ya Qi seemed prepared. He sidestepped to avoid them, but the attendants behind him fell to the ground instantly. Where they were struck, dark, terrifying blood began to flow rapidly.
Han Ya Qi raised two fingers. He was wearing a pair of finely woven silver-threaded gloves. He examined a poisoned needle he had just caught between his fingers, its surface shimmering with an eerie blue glow.
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