Chapter 7: Tianji Pavilion Order, Secrets of Youquan
A cold order was delivered to Chen Ye through the Tianji Pavilion's unique channels: clean up the mess. He was already familiar with this kind of mission. In the Tianji Pavilion's dictionary, traitors were equivalent to death.
It wasn't a carrier pigeon, but a tiny, pitch-black metal bird, powered by an intricate mechanism. It landed silently on the window sill of Shen Ye's hideout in Luoyang. A secret compartment in its belly popped open, revealing a roll of parchment tied with black string.
This is the way Tianji Pavilion communicates "A"-level tasks, which means that the confidentiality and importance of the tasks are extremely high.
Chen Ye reached out and removed the parchment. The metal bird's eyes flashed red, and then with a flap of its wings, it blended into the deep night again, leaving no trace.
He unfolded the parchment. The words on it were written with a special potion that would only appear when it came into contact with skin at a certain temperature. It would burn after reading, leaving no physical evidence.
"Traitor Liu Meng stole three copies of the Class C stronghold map and traded them with Youquan at the Dragon King Temple south of Luoyang City. Order: Recover the maps, clean up the mess, and erase all traces. Zhuying will execute."
The instructions were concise and cold, without a trace of emotion.
Chen Ye's face was expressionless. He held the parchment close to the candlelight and watched as the words on it quickly vanished, turning into a wisp of smoke. Finally, even the paper itself turned into a pile of indistinguishable ash.
The mission is coming.
For him, this is as much a part of his life as eating and drinking water. In other words, it is his whole life.
He stood up and looked around his so-called "room".
This place is more of a nest than a home. Aside from a hard bed, a table, and a chair, nothing else. No extraneous decoration, no trace of life, not even a hint of human presence. Everything is arranged with meticulous precision, almost mechanical, as if the owner were not a living person but a sophisticated killing machine.
This is him, the chief assassin of Tianji Pavilion, "Zhuying".
He walked to the corner of the wall, opened an inconspicuous floor tile, and found a secret compartment underneath. He took out a sword.
The sword was two feet seven inches long, with a narrow blade and a jet black body. It didn't even reflect the slightest light in the candlelight, as if it could absorb all the light. The hilt had no ornate decorations, only circles of non-slip shark skin.
Its name is "Momenta".
"Momentary Blossom" is the name of his swordsmanship, and also the destiny of this sword - to end the enemy's life in an instant, and bloom the most gorgeous and deadly flower of death.
He drew his "Momenta" and carefully polished it with a piece of deerskin. The blade scraped against the hide, making no sound, only a heart-wrenching silence. His practice of the "Lightless Heart Sutra" had already compressed his entire being's energy and emotions to the extreme. Joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—these mortal emotions were an unnecessary burden to him, the greatest flaw in his mission.
Tianji Pavilion does not need emotional assassins. Tianji Pavilion only needs the sharpest knives.
He is the sharpest knife.
He had a vague impression of the traitor Liu Meng. A minor figure responsible for peripheral intelligence gathering, he possessed mediocre talent but immense ambition. Shen Ye couldn't fathom how someone like him had access to the stronghold map. But it didn't matter; the Pavilion Master's orders were about the outcome, not the process. Liu Meng's folly doomed him to die tonight.
What he really felt a hint of... not interest, perhaps it should be called a "mark", was the other name on the file.
"Secluded Spring".
Shen Ye paused slightly in his wiping movements.
The chaotic night at the Yangzhou Governor's Mansion involuntarily emerged in his mind.
That woman who is also an assassin.
He couldn't remember her face clearly, as he never cared about the appearance of people who weren't involved in his mission, but she left some vague impression.
Her movements were peculiar, agile and graceful, which was totally different from the crude and direct style of "Youquan".
She was very calm. During the siege by the Governor's Mansion guards, facing the sudden change, her response, though somewhat immature, remained calm and composed. This kind of composure was rare among assassins.
Most importantly, her target was human life, not the account books he wanted.
An assassin with the ability and the will to succeed in a third-rate organization like "Youquan" is a small mystery in itself.
Chen Ye didn't care about the answer. He was just like a skilled hunter who had noticed a prey in his hunting ground that behaved a little differently.
And now, the tribe to which this prey belonged once again appeared in his mission briefing.
"Deep Spring"...
A barely perceptible sneer appeared at the corner of Chen Ye's mouth, and that smile was colder than the edge of a sword.
An organization that survived at the bottom of the underworld by taking on low-level personal revenge orders actually wanted to get involved in the secrets of the Tianji Pavilion? It was simply courting death.
How could the secrets of the Tianji Pavilion be revealed on a few blueprints? Liu Meng had stolen only a few insignificant hairs from the vast body of the Tianji Pavilion. The true core lay hidden in an abyss beyond the reach of all.
This deal was a joke from the beginning. A stupid traitor and a greedy buyer.
Chen Ye sheathed the "Moment" and pulled out several wax-shaped hidden weapons from a hidden compartment. These were his unique hidden weapons, the "Candle Tears." They exploded when exposed to heat or force. Some could release a beam of light powerful enough to instantly blind a top expert, while others could spray a cloud of poison-infused, fine needles. These were his backup weapons, designed to create chaos and ensure complete safety.
He prepared everything and changed into the dark blue suit that was convenient for moving in the night. He seemed to blend into the shadows in the room.
He didn't go through the door.
His figure flashed, and he flew out of the window like a ghost, landing silently on the tiles on the roof.
The night sky of Luoyang stretched beneath his feet, its lights reflecting off the stars. But in Shen Ye's eyes, this bustling scene was automatically transformed into a three-dimensional map composed of shadows, height differences, patrol routes, and escape routes.
He unleashed his light skill, "Fleeting Light and Shadows," transforming himself into a faint shadow, gliding through the densely packed rooftops. His movements made no sound of wind, no creaking of air; even his form seemed discontinuous, as if leaping discontinuously between shadows. Occasionally, a night watchman yawned by, never realizing that, in the darkness above, a grim reaper was passing by.
The Dragon King Temple in the south of the city soon appeared in his sight.
It was a true ruin. The shattered walls, blackened by the fire, looked like the skeletons of a giant beast in the moonlight, exuding an ominous aura of death. The surrounding area was overgrown with weeds, and the chirping of insects was much sparser than elsewhere.
Shen Ye did not come closer.
Like a night owl, he quietly landed on an ancient tree opposite the temple that overlooked the entire situation. He restrained all his breath and merged with the thick trunk and lush branches and leaves.
He could sense a faint, restless presence in the dilapidated temple. It was the traitor Liu Meng. Like a rat caught in a trap, awaiting an unknown fate.
Chen Ye was very patient. The most important quality of an assassin wasn't the swiftness of his sword, but the stillness of his heart. He could wait here, like a stone, until eternity came.
He is waiting.
Waiting for another mouse to arrive.
The file revealed that the traitor's target was the assassin organization "Youquan." A barely perceptible sneer curled up Chen Ye's lips. It was Youquan again. He was curious about what this low-ranking organization could offer in exchange for information from the Tianji Pavilion.
Midnight passed. A graceful figure in black slowly landed in front of the dilapidated temple. Was it her? Shen Ye's heart moved slightly.
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