After the autumnal equinox, dusk settled in the Taihang Valley like thick ink, slowly seeping into every inch of space and shrouding the entire world in a deep gloom. Silence, like an invisible net, tightly enveloped the valley, with only the occasional sound of the wind, like tiny tears tearing through the web. In this moment of utter silence, the sound of Jiang Yan's sword being unsheathed, like the crisp sound of silk tearing, suddenly shattered the stillness.

The blue-bladed sword, like a streak of icy light, sliced ​​through the damp, heavy air, reflecting a chilling arc of light in the fading sky, like a fleeting meteor across the night sky, yet carrying a deadly chill. The family crest, "Jiang," engraved on the sword's spine flickered faintly as the blade danced, as if speaking of the family's glory and heritage. This sword, gifted by Jiang Yan's maternal grandfather when he achieved top honors in high school, carried the family's hopes and blessings. It had never been stained by blood, like a virgin raised in seclusion, now to be tested for the first time in the treacherous Taihang Valley.

Jiang Yan tilted his body slightly, carefully guiding Su Jinli into the shadows of the carriage. His dark blue official boots inadvertently crushed a dead leaf, making a subtle, dry sound, a subtle tremor in that sound. The thousand-layered cloth on the soles of his boots had been softened by the thick dew in the valley, as if even these sturdy boots felt the tension and oppression of the atmosphere.

"Madam, take cover," Jiang Yan whispered, his voice low but filled with undeniable determination. As he turned sideways, the black jade ring on his thumb brushed against the scabbard, making a subtle sound, as if sounding the prelude to the coming battle. "I'm here." These three simple words, like a beacon in the darkness, brought a sense of peace to Su Jinli.

"You?" Su Jinli couldn't help but peek out from the crook of his slightly bent elbow. The soft tassels of her moon-white skirt brushed against his trembling wrist. Her sharp eyes caught the slight tremor of his right index finger, which gripped the sword. The scene in the Imperial Garden three days ago flashed through her mind. Back then, he'd enthusiastically swung his sword at the slanting peach branch, intending to pluck the delicate blossoms for her. But the blade missed by three inches, nearly severing her hairpin and frightening the Grand Tutor's carefully tended parrot, which fluttered its wings and flew away in panic.

"Last time you danced with your sword, you were trying to cut down peach blossoms for me, but you ended up scaring off the Master's parrot." Su Jinli couldn't help but whisper in a teasing tone, her tone tinged with a hint of anger, yet also with a touch of intimacy. In this tense atmosphere, her words were like a stone dropped into a calm lake, stirring up a unique ripple.

Seeing this, the bandit leader couldn't help but laugh out loud, leaning on his ghost-head knife. The sheepskin human ears on the tassel of his knife swung violently with his laughter, looking particularly eerie and terrifying in the dim twilight. He took a step forward, and there was a crisp "crack" under his feet, and a piece of frozen cow dung shattered under his foot. The oil paper stuffed in his straw sandals inadvertently appeared. A closer look revealed that it was a torn page of "The Oil Seller" printed by Jinyun Bookstore. This detail seemed to hint at the complex relationship hidden behind this highway robbery.

"This pretty boy is worthy of protecting the emperor? Go home and take care of your children!" the bandit leader scoffed in a hoarse voice. His words were like a flame, instantly igniting the bandits' laughter. The bandits laughed unrestrainedly. One of them even removed his mask and casually wiped the sweat from his forehead, revealing a birthmark on his forehead that matched the one on the accountant of the Jiangnan Booksellers Alliance. This feature made Su Jinli even more certain of the identity of these bandits.

In the moment the bandit leader's attention was distracted, Su Jinli keenly seized this fleeting opportunity. She narrowed her eyes slightly, a glint of determination flashing in them, and tapped the carriage floor with her toes, nimbly swift as a swallow. Jiang Yan felt a sudden surge of force between his hips and legs, and he was caught off guard, falling backward in a sprawling position, tumbling into the thick pile of fallen leaves behind him. The Qingfeng sword, following his fall, made a "puff" sound, burying itself deeply into the rotten leaves. The hilt still trembled slightly in the soil, as if grieving its master's miserable state.

Jiang Yan's nose brushed against the damp, humus-smelling earth. The pungent smell made him frown. From the corner of his eye, he saw Su Jinli leap out of the carriage like a flash of white lightning. The hem of her moon-white skirt brushed past the bandit leader's face, creating a breeze that flipped the bookstore badge on his waist. The faint inscription of the word "Qian" on the back loomed in the dim twilight, like a mysterious code, hinting at the mastermind behind this farce.

"We need this to deal with the bandits," Su Jinli shouted, her voice clear and resonant, echoing through the valley like a bell. She decisively ripped open the oil-paper bag from her sleeve, and the crimson powder between her fingertips scattered like a stream of fire in the twilight. The powder was realgar powder, used by boatmen at the Yangzhou docks to repel snakes and insects, specially blended with chili pepper powder. The whistling mountain wind swept through the valley, instantly forming a pungent, acrid red mist that, like a ferocious beast, pounced directly upon the bandit leader.

Jiang Yan lay in the pile of fallen leaves, watching Su Jinli touch the ground with her toes and spin lightly, like a dancing fairy. However, this beautiful posture concealed a fierce attack. The iron knee pads hidden under her skirt were like a sharp blade, glancing at the bandit leader's wrist. With a crisp sound of metal collision, the ghost-head knife slipped from the bandit leader's hand and fell to the ground. At the same time, the screams of the bandits rang out one after another. The red mist seemed to be an invisible sharp blade, stinging the bandits' eyes and choking them to cough violently. In the red mist, some people covered their eyes in pain and rolled frantically on the ground; some people were choked and dizzy, and they ran into the thorn bushes next to them, and the branches and leaves they lifted up made a "rustling" sound, which startled the night heron perched on the rock wall. The night heron flapped its wings and uttered a terrified cry in the night sky, as if wailing for the chaos.

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