The two arrived at the small town before dawn. The streets were still quiet. They found an inn and knocked on the door.
Soon, lights flickered inside, and slow, heavy footsteps echoed from within. The wooden floorboards creaked as if ready to splinter under the weight. After a moment, the door rattled and opened. A middle-aged man, still sleepy, held the doorframe with one hand and an oil lamp in the other. Squinting and yawning, he looked at the two standing outside, clearly annoyed. “Who’s there? It’s late. This inn doesn’t take late-night guests. If you want a meal, wait until morning.” He moved to close the door.
Shangguan Ye, moving with ease, pushed the door—and the innkeeper—open, and calmly stepped inside, pulling Murong Qiufeng along. Before the innkeeper could protest, he said, “Prepare a room and some hot water. Quickly.”
“You… you…” The innkeeper nearly lost his balance, staring wide-eyed, a mix of anger and caution written across his face as he pointed at them.
Shangguan Ye narrowed his eyes, watching him. Murong Qiufeng offered a polite nod. “Sorry to disturb you at this hour. We’ll be greatly in your debt tomorrow.”
Previously, Murong Qiufeng had been mostly blocked from view by Shangguan Ye. Now, under the dim light, the innkeeper noticed his gentle, apologetic smile and was momentarily stunned, eyes widening in admiration.
Shangguan Ye’s expression darkened, and a fierce aura radiated from him. The innkeeper shivered as if a cold wind had pierced him. Seeing Shangguan Ye’s grim face, terror surged, and he quickly bowed. “Follow me, sirs,” he stammered, closing the door behind him as he led them upstairs with the oil lamp.
The wooden stairs, aged and groaning under each step, squealed loudly. Likely, few travelers had stayed here in recent years, or they would have come out to scold someone for the noise.
The two were led into a fairly clean room.
“Please wait a moment. Hot water will be brought shortly,” the innkeeper said nervously before hurrying off, closing the door behind him.
Shangguan Ye placed their weapons on the table. The flickering candlelight reflected off the blades, bright and sharp like mirrors. Murong Qiufeng’s eyes briefly flickered.
At the bed, Shangguan Ye disdainfully yanked off the old, worn sheets and blankets, the remnants of countless past guests, and spread his own cloak over the mattress.
Murong Qiufeng couldn’t help but smile. “On the road, everything is casual. You don’t need to be so careful. I won’t mind.”
Shangguan Ye clapped his hands lightly and approached with a faint smile. “I promised your parents I wouldn’t let you be uncomfortable for even a moment. Everything must be perfect for you, inside and out.” His gaze swept over Murong Qiufeng with a hint of mischief.
Murong Qiufeng shook his head, resting one hand lightly on his sword sheath and tapping it absentmindedly. “Dawn’s almost here. Once we pass this town, it’s on to Yanyang City. We won’t linger. When A-Si and the others arrive, we eat, then leave.”
“Heh, you’re worried I’ll disturb the town, aren’t you?” Shangguan Ye said with a grin, stepping close. His hand slid around Murong Qiufeng’s waist, the other brushing over the hand resting on the sword, in a teasing, intimate gesture.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. The innkeeper’s voice called out, “Sirs, your hot water.”
“Come in,” Shangguan Ye said, a dangerous gleam flashing in his eyes, but he didn’t release Murong Qiufeng—and, for once, Murong Qiufeng didn’t pull away.
The innkeeper entered with the water and froze at the sight of them embracing. He quickly lowered his gaze, trembling, and set the water on a side table.
Just as the water was placed down, the innkeeper pressed his hand forcefully, splashing the basin’s contents outward. From the water emerged a pair of silver curved hooks.
Simultaneously, Shangguan Ye and Murong Qiufeng’s eyes narrowed, their hands drawing their swords from the table. The blades flashed, and two black-clad figures plummeted from the ceiling beams with soft thuds.
From outside the door, several agile, masked men leapt in, each wielding dual curved blades, attacking in unison.
Shangguan Ye’s eyes narrowed. He let out a cold snort. With a simple swing of his Asura blade, the murderous aura radiated outward like sharp projectiles, striking several attackers. Blood gushed from their wounds in feet-long arcs.
Grunts of pain rose and fell, yet more black-clad figures poured in, relentless and seemingly fearless of death.
Murong Qiufeng’s face went cold. Though he disliked killing, he could not remain passive while being hunted. His silver dragon sword flashed, arcs of light sweeping through the room. Attacking men were repelled, forced back by the sword’s residual energy. The ancient wooden walls groaned under the impact, the room shaking as if ready to collapse.
“Out,” Shangguan Ye ordered, leaping forward. A wave of blade wind flung attackers aside. Murong Qiufeng followed, springing through the window alongside him.
They landed in the street, immediately surrounded by more black-clad assailants.
The attackers moved like shadows, unflinching in the moonlight. Their eyes were hollow, not cold, but empty—soulless. Only the curved blades glinted sharply in the silver light.
Back to back, Shangguan Ye’s eyes glimmered with a faint, bloodthirsty gleam. His Asura blade seemed to resonate with the same hunger, the light streaking red as if steeped in misted blood—eerie and menacing.
“These aren’t normal people. They’re controlled. Don’t hold back,” he said softly. Though outnumbered, their skill made them more than capable. He only feared Murong Qiufeng might hesitate and get hurt.
Murong Qiufeng nodded. He understood the stakes. He might not care for himself, but he could not risk Shangguan Ye. These attackers were different from the earlier thieves; they came here to kill them.
He swung his sword, white robes fluttering, sleeves billowing like moonlight in the dark night. The silver blade glimmered, vibrating faintly, and faintly carried a sound like a dragon’s roar.
The black-clad men, seemingly signaled, moved as one.
“Watch out,” both whispered, springing into action to meet the incoming murderous intent head-on.
