Life is unpredictable, like the large intestine enclosing the small intestine.

Tang Feng watched as the assassins, gradually surrounding them, slowly drew their swords from their sheaths. His legs trembled uncontrollably. At that moment, Zhang Mobai gripped Tang Feng's hand, pulling him to one side. Suddenly, Zhang Mobai pulled something from his robes, the object blinding Tang Feng in the moonlight. Zhang Mobai forcefully stabbed one of the horses. The horse, in pain, reared up and neighed loudly, throwing the assassin off. The other horses, startled to varying degrees, scattered in all directions. Just as the assassin regained control of his horse, Zhang Mobai seized the opportunity, grabbing Tang Feng and charging forward. Arrows rained down behind them. Tang Feng suddenly felt a sharp pain in his arm, but he couldn't care less; he could only follow Zhang Mobai, running back as fast as he could.

After running for a while, Zhang Mobai slowly stopped, bent over, and panted for a moment while holding his knees. He said, "Once we get onto the main road, they shouldn't be able to catch up."

Tang Feng, panting heavily, leaned against the wall and asked, "Are you so sure?"

"If they kill you on the official road, the imperial court will definitely launch an investigation tomorrow, so we are relatively safe for now."

After hearing this, Tang Feng finally felt a huge weight lifted from his heart. He slowly sat down against the wall, his body relaxing. "Little madman, I didn't expect you to carry hidden weapons with you!"

"Where did you get any hidden weapons from! I picked up that hidden blade from the ground at Xiaoyao Tower and haven't thrown it away; I've kept it in my pocket ever since." Zhang Mobai leaned against Tang Feng, trying to keep his breathing steady. "Oh! Little brother, you're injured?" Zhang Mobai saw that Tang Feng's clothes were stained with blood on his forearm, and the blood had flowed down his arm to his fingertips.

"Huh?" Tang Feng only felt a sharp pain in his forearm after hearing Zhang Mobai's words. "Hiss! It should just be a scrape."

"Who did you mess with? They came on so aggressively!" Zhang Mobai tore a piece of cloth from his own clothes and barely managed to bandage Tang Feng's wounds. "I'm not very good at bandaging wounds. Don't forget to have Liu Yiwan clean it up for you when you get back."

Tang Feng watched Zhang Mobai bandage his wounds and slowly replied, "I'd like to know more." He then pondered the assassins' attire: masks, black cloaks—they seemed vaguely familiar. Tang Feng suddenly remembered a dream he'd had while listening to Han Jiuhua play the zither at Qinghui Workshop. In the dream, he was under a horse's hooves, and the rider wore a black cloak and a mask. Tang Feng felt the dream was connected to assassination, but he had no leads to investigate. "What a pity," Tang Feng sighed, "the hidden blade is gone, and we can't find anything."

“That’s not necessarily true,” Zhang Mobai said, turning to Tang Feng. “I’ve examined that hidden blade; it’s too ordinary. Even if you hadn’t thrown it, you wouldn’t have known how to use it. But did you notice the patterns on those assassin masks?”

"I was almost killed, and you want me to look at patterns?" Tang Feng laughed in anger. The overwhelming sense of oppression was so intense that even with his courage, he wouldn't dare to meet the assassin's gaze for three seconds. Besides, the assassin's sword was pointed at him; a moment's carelessness could mean his very next life.

Zhang Mobai chuckled twice upon hearing this, then said seriously, "I see it. The pattern is strange, the colors are bewitching. I feel like I've seen it somewhere before, but... I can't quite remember."

Tang Feng sat on the ground, hugging his knees, deep in thought. Based on Zhang Mobai's description, he felt this was a very powerful organization. "Little madman, since you've seen this pattern, could you draw it? Tomorrow I'll have Liu Yiwan inquire about it."

"Of course, I'll draw it when I get home tonight and give it to you first thing tomorrow morning."

After discussing their plan, the two sat by the wall for a while. Seeing that the assassin hadn't pursued them any further, they got up and went home. That very night, Tang Feng summoned Liu Yiwan.

"Hiss~ Strange patterns, bewitching colors?" Liu Yiwan sat beside Tang Feng, cleaning his wounds. Hearing Tang Feng's question, his movements slowed. "I've never heard of this before, young master. If the attire is as you describe, I don't think it's someone from the martial world who would want to kill you! I've been in the martial world for so long, and I've never heard of such an appearance. And from what you just said, it seems like a group traveling together in an organized manner. Hmm... Could someone on the official road be trying to kill you?"

Liu Yiwan's words weren't without merit, but the problem was, before Tang Feng transmigrated, he was a timid, submissive man who never left his home. What conflict could he possibly have with people in the court? Did Old Master Tang have a formidable enemy in the court who wanted to eliminate him? But killing a mere child like Tang Feng wouldn't be the first option! Tang Feng couldn't figure it out either, so he shooed Liu Yiwan away and tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. He kept thinking about the scene he dreamed about at Han Jiuhua's place that day. Judging from their attire, it was definitely a group of people, but at that time, it was still more than a week before his first assassination attempt. How could he have foreseen it? Could it be that he had already experienced an assassination attempt before transmigrating? Was what he saw in his dream actually his real experience? Tang Feng sat up in bed. Could it be the time he fell off his horse? Tang Feng was somewhat shocked. Since transmigrating, he had rarely inquired about his past, and his understanding came only from fragmented conversations with Liu Yiwan and the others. What exactly had the previous owner of his current body experienced? Why would someone who was afraid to go out get into such a deadly predicament?

Tang Feng felt an urgent need to know what happened on the day he fell from the horse. If he could follow the clues upwards, he might be able to find out. Thinking of this, Tang Feng got up, took a coat from the rack, put it on, and went out to find Liu Yiwan.

"Who is it! Staying up so late, do you believe I'll beat your ancestors for eight generations... Young Master?" After Tang Feng knocked on the door seven or eight times, Liu Yiwan opened it cursing, thinking it was some servant asking him to keep watch. But when he opened the door, he saw Tang Feng standing there wearing a coat.

Who do you want to smoke?

"Shoot...shoot mosquitoes, hehe, young master, what brings you here so late?" Liu Yiwan chuckled sheepishly.

Tang Feng rolled his eyes at Liu Yiwan and said, "I want to ask about my horse-riding accident."

Liu Yiwan stood there, somewhat bewildered. This was the first time Tang Feng had proactively asked him about the horse-riding incident. Liu Yiwan invited Tang Feng into the house and, after hesitating for a while, slowly said, "That day... Young Master Zhang suddenly came to find you, saying he wanted to take you out of the city for horseback riding. Normally, you would definitely not agree, but that time, I don't know why, you surprisingly went along."

"So you didn't stop me?"

"I tried to stop you, since you can't ride a horse, and I didn't dare let you go, but it was no use. You were really different that day; no matter how I tried to persuade you, it was no use, and you even got angry with me in the end."

After listening, Tang Feng lowered his eyes and pondered deeply, carefully considering Liu Yiwan's words. Perhaps Tang Feng had seen something or encountered someone that forced him to act so abnormally that day. A socially awkward person who never dared to speak loudly and whose life revolved around Zhou Ziliang's house, Zhang Mobai's house, and his own house, suddenly going out horseback riding seemed far too unusual.

"I offered to come along, but you refused. I thought that with Young Master Zhang accompanying you, there wouldn't be any problems. However, after you had been walking for three or four hours, Young Master Zhang came back and said that you were missing and that you had gotten separated in the suburbs."

"You got separated? Then I was found in the suburbs too?"

"No, that's not it. So it's strange that someone who can't ride a horse managed to walk twenty miles, and we finally found you in the south of the city."

Tang Feng thought about the dream. Indeed, the environment didn't seem to be in the suburbs. He vaguely remembered there was a tofu stall nearby, so he asked Liu Yiwan, "Was there a tofu stall next to the place where you found me?"

"Huh? How did you know? The south side of the city used to be a commercial street, but when His Majesty was conquering the country, the people of the city responded to the call of the army and joined the war. So many blacksmiths moved into the south side of the city to make weapons. Later, His Majesty returned to the capital and the entire Xiling expanded. The shops also moved westward, so the south side of the city became empty. The tofu shop you mentioned is where Tofu Xu used to live."

"Didn't you notice anything unusual when you found me?"

"No! When I found you, you were covered in blood. I checked your wounds and immediately thought the horse might have gone mad and thrown you off. After all, I didn't see the horse nearby at the time. But Young Master Zhang insisted that the horse he chose for you was the most docile one in the horse market."

After listening quietly to Liu Yiwan's words, Tang Feng pondered for a moment and said, "So, in other words, there was no one with me when I fell from my horse, and I was already lying on the ground when you came over."

"Exactly."

"Alright, I understand. You can rest now." Tang Feng got up and went back to his room. According to Liu Yiwan's account, there were indeed too many strange things that day. However, since there were no clues now, they probably wouldn't be able to find anything. They could only wait until Zhang Mobai finished drawing the portrait of the mask tomorrow before making any further plans.

The next morning, Zhang Mobai climbed over the wall with the drawing paper. Tang Feng opened it and almost fainted from anger. "Did you draw this?"

"Um... I'm not very good at drawing, but I stayed up all night to draw this," Zhang Mobai said, scratching his head, "I'm a little embarrassed."

"You're a terrible artist! You say this is a mask, but does the mask even agree to that?!"

On the drawing paper was an oval shape, neither perfectly round nor perfectly square, filled with shaky lines resembling those of Parkinson's disease, and painted with vibrant colors. Perhaps one paint hadn't dried before another was applied, resulting in a strange black in the center, while the edges remained the original colors of the paint. Standing nearby, Liu Yiwan glanced at it and laughed, "Young Master, your description is quite vivid. It truly is a bizarre pattern, with bewitching colors."