Chapter 103: Slaughter

Such a secret, if revealed to others, could only bring ruin, for no one else could protect themselves in the presence of Lady Wei. But Li Longji was different. His strength, wisdom, courage, and luck—believing in possibilities rather than impossibilities—led Wang Zhong to believe that not only could he protect himself, but he might even avenge Emperor Li Xian.

This was why Wang Zhong sought out Li Longji. He knew Lady Wei was a formidable foe, so several days prior, he feigned illness to avoid going to the palace and sent a servant to the best apothecary in Chang’an to purchase ginseng. The servant spread rumors that Wang Zhong was gravely ill from sorrow and old age, needing the ginseng to sustain his spirit and prepare for his final affairs. The steward even ordered a custom casket made from the finest nanmu wood. The casket maker lamented the difficulty of working with nanmu and doubted it could be finished in less than ten days. So, the steward purchased a completed nanmu casket from another client and temporarily stored it in the workshop before transporting it back to the mansion.

Everyone in Chang’an believed that Wang Zhong, the most powerful eunuch of Emperor Zhongzong’s reign, was about to depart this world. This was exactly what Wang Zhong wanted. As he stepped out of his residence, he saw twenty men in black riding leisurely on horseback, reins held loosely, the horses pacing back and forth. Some were polishing long blades with white cloth. Upon seeing Wang Zhong and his party, one of the riders spurred forward and, speaking imperfect official language, said, “Greetings, Mr. Wang. I am from the Three Islands, sent by my master to escort you. Please proceed.”

Wang Zhong was alarmed to see several corpses lying beneath the horses. The rider sneered, “These men were spying on your residence late at night, so we killed them all.”

Wang Zhong anxiously said, “These men were spies from the imperial palace, sent to watch me.” The rider disdainfully replied, “The Three Islands’ blades recognize only their master; all others are fair game. Mr. Wang, our master has waited long enough. Let us not delay!” With that, they surrounded Wang Zhong’s group and galloped forward.

Upon reaching the outer city of Chang’an, the gate guards, having received orders from their superiors, silently opened the gates without a word and let them in. Once all had entered, the gates were swiftly closed.

The leader of the Three Islands tossed a heavy bag of gold coins before the guards, who rejoiced and quickly pocketed the money, retreating into the gatehouse to divide the treasure. The group rode in silence, galloping down the deserted streets. It was midnight, and during the period of national mourning, all taverns, brothels, theaters, and teahouses were ordered closed. Not a single light shone on the streets.

The darkness was so complete the city resembled a ghost town, with only the clatter of horseshoes striking the cobblestones, sparks flying with each step.

After riding for over ten miles, Li Longji’s Linzi Prince Mansion came into view at the corner ahead. Wang Zhong and the Three Islands’ men sighed in relief. Wang Zhong pressed a hand to his forehead, whispering, “At last, our plan was not in vain; we have evaded them.”

Three Islands even thought of the generous reward awaiting at the Linzi Prince Mansion upon completing their mission, unable to conceal his joy.

As the cavalry turned a corner, almost able to see the tiled roof of the mansion, a solitary figure stood in the dark street.

The figure faced away from them. Three Islands caught a glimpse with his peripheral vision of the dozen men he had stationed here to meet them lying dead where they fell. He immediately urged his horse forward, shouting, “Do not stop! Ride over them!”

He yelled as he charged ahead. The figure turned calmly—it was a young, beautiful woman dressed in a plain white silk gown. In one hand, she held a red oil-paper umbrella; in the other, a pale paper lantern. Against the misty, rainy street, she appeared both exquisitely delicate and eerily mysterious.

Wang Zhong immediately screamed in terror, “She is Nian Cixi! My life is at an end!” This stunning woman was the leader of the assassins from the Celestial Palace of Myriad Phenomena, Nian Cixi. Few in the martial world had ever seen her; most believed her to be a ruthless, sinister man.

Who would have thought such a notorious figure was a seemingly fragile, beautiful woman?

Wang Zhong had seen Nian Cixi several times in the palace, knowing well that she was Lady Wei’s trusted confidante—her beauty rivaled the moon, but her heart was as venomous as a snake’s. Seeing her now, he understood she had come for him.

Three Islands, experienced in battle, knew that a woman who dared face enemies alone must possess extraordinary skill. Without hesitation, he shouted a few commands in Japanese and swung his long blade, leaping into the attack.

Nian Cixi laughed lightly, her slender foot flicked the pale lantern high into the air. Her right hand flipped, revealing a gleaming long sword. Three Islands saw a flash of light and heard the wind whistle like a forest storm rushing past—

But moments later, he realized the sound was his own blood spurting from a severed artery. Nian Cixi smiled as she tilted the bright red umbrella before her, shielding herself while his blood splattered upon it. The last thing he saw was her white gown, still pristine.

Nian Cixi struck again without pause, one hand holding the umbrella, the other dancing with the sword as she moved through the ruthless enemies. The Japanese fighters cried out wildly, charging like a furious storm, their ferocity ignited to terrifying heights.

Each descended like ravenous beasts. Nian Cixi moved with the grace of swaying willows, as if searching among flowers for butterflies and bees. With delicate hands, she wielded her sword freely, thrusting at will.

The Japanese blades repeatedly struck empty air inches from her, while their owners fell screaming amid showers of blood. Nian Cixi rested the red umbrella on her shoulder; the flying droplets were blocked by the canopy, not a single drop touched her.

In moments, dozens lay dead. Wang Zhong saw no one left standing beside him; Nian Cixi advanced with a serene smile. His heart sank utterly—he knew there was no escape.

The man surnamed Suo closed his eyes, sighed deeply, and thought, “Your Majesty, your servant has done his best.” Nian Cixi, with a tranquil smile, thrust her sword forward as if painting the final stroke on a silk scroll.

Wang Zhong felt a tightness in his chest, forced his eyes open, only to see the sharp sword piercing through his heart and emerging from his back. Darkness overwhelmed him as he lost consciousness.

The street resembled the most terrifying realm of carnage—bodies and blood everywhere—with only one beautiful woman standing elegantly amidst the horror, a sight both heart-stopping and chilling.

Nian Cixi discarded the crimson umbrella, soaked with blood. The pale paper lantern she had kicked into the air was now drifting down; she caught it deftly.

Under the vast night sky, with gentle wind and light rain, she held the lantern and vanished gracefully into the distance. Only when the lantern’s faint glow disappeared into the darkness did two figures rise on a nearby rooftop. After a quick glance around, they hurried toward the palace.

(To be continued.)