The moon hung high above Falling Stone City, casting a silvery glow over the rooftops while lanterns flickered like scattered stars in the streets below.
In the western district, inside a lavishly furnished mansion, a tall, broad-shouldered middle-aged man stood with a scowl darkening his features. He glared at two burly men and a wiry, rat-faced little man who stood before him, heads bowed in shame. Five or six muscular subordinates flanked him, their expressions tense.
"So," he growled, his voice dripping with contempt, "you mean to tell me you were knocked out cold without even glimpsing your attacker, the woman you captured escaped, and yet here you stand—unharmed?"
"Gang Leader, we—"
"Hmph! Useless lumps!" The gang leader cut them off with a dismissive wave, clearly unwilling to hear excuses. "Absolutely incapable! Can't manage even the simplest task without botching it!" He turned slightly to a lean-faced man behind him, snapping an order. "Xiao Liu, step outside and check if these three idiots were followed. The Young Master will be here shortly—ensure there are no surprises."
Xiao Liu slipped out silently. Moments later, he returned, shaking his head to indicate the surroundings were clear. A collective sigh of relief rippled through the room. If any trouble arose now, ruining the Young Master's mood, the consequences would be dire.
Unbeknownst to them, however, trouble had already arrived—and it had been lurking for quite some time.
Pressed flat against the roof tiles, Bai Yunfei blended into the shadows. From below, he was nearly invisible; Xiao Liu's cursory patrol hadn't thought to fetch a ladder for a roof inspection. Bai Yunfei had trailed the three men here cautiously. Unsure whether the kidnapped woman was truly held within, he'd held back, eavesdropping intently on the conversation drifting up through the thin ceiling.
The gang leader's gaze flickered toward a room on the second floor, guarded by two men at its door. "And the girl upstairs? How is she?"
One of his subordinates answered promptly, "Still confined to that room. She wept and screamed most of last night, but she's calmed down since. Been quiet all day today—no signs she'll try anything desperate." He hesitated, then added nervously, "Boss... she claims she's a disciple of the Green Willow Sect. We don't know if it's true, but shouldn't we... investigate?"
"Green Willow Sect? Nonsense!" The gang leader scoffed derisively. "That's a sect of Soul Masters! Their disciples don't get snatched up like stray kittens. She's just spinning tales, hoping we'll set her free out of fear." He paused, perhaps trying to soothe his own rising unease as much as reassure his men. "Besides, Young Master Zhang Yang is a disciple of the Cold Ice Sect! Even if she were from the Green Willow Sect, what of it? Handing her over to the Young Master might just forge an alliance between the sects. With his status and charm, she'd probably beg to stay by his side!"
Up on the roof, Bai Yunfei's muscles tensed the instant he heard the kidnapped woman was inside. He was ready to burst through and rescue her—until the gang leader's next words froze him in place.
Zhang Yang! The 'Young Master' they were referring to... was Zhang Yang?
And he was coming here tonight!
Suppressing the sudden surge of adrenaline, Bai Yunfei forced himself to stay low, his eyes narrowing as he strained to monitor every sound from below. After searching tirelessly for so long, fate delivers him right to me without lifting a finger!
Roughly half an hour later, the creak of the front door shattered the tense stillness. The gang leader's voice instantly shifted to oily servility. "Young Master! Welcome! The woman you requested is waiting upstairs in that room... You two guards, come down now. Give the Young Master his privacy."
A cold, familiar voice replied languidly, "Hmm. I trust she won't disappoint. You two"—a slight pause indicated he was addressing others—"stay down here. I require no escort. Don't spoil my entertainment."**
At the sound of that voice, Bai Yunfei's entire body trembled violently. Only iron will kept him from gasping aloud or dislodging a tile.
Zhang Yang!
That voice—the voice of the man who had shattered his life—was etched into Bai Yunfei's soul. He would never forget it.
Calm. Stay calm! Bai Yunfei clenched his fists so tightly his nails dug crescent moons into his palms, drawing blood. He repeated the mantra internally, fighting the volcanic rage bubbling within. This is the chance I've prayed for. I cannot waste it!
Taking several deep, shuddering breaths, Bai Yunfei willed his near-boiling mind to cool. Rational thought resurfaced. He mentioned two guards... What are their strengths? Soul Masters? Likely. But their exact level? Probably not beyond the Soul Apprentice realm. Still, Zhang Yang himself is a Mid-Stage Soul Apprentice. If all three attack me at once...
The crisp tap of boots ascending the stairs echoed from below. Zhang Yang was heading toward the second-floor room.
I came here to save that woman. She mustn't suffer any harm! But if I charge Zhang Yang directly and fail, I could be swarmed by three Soul Apprentices. So... neutralize the guards first. Absolutely cannot let Zhang Yang escape...
Time was slipping away like sand. Plans flashed through Bai Yunfei's mind in rapid succession. Decision made, he gauged his position—and stomped hard on the roof!
Zhang Yang had just begun mounting the stairs, his impatience palpable. His two guards and the gang members clustered at the far end of the grand hall. The sudden cacophony—shattering tiles and raining debris—sent shockwaves through the room. Heads snapped up as a hail of jagged fragments exploded downward.
A dozen or so ordinary thugs were caught in the barrage. Half crumpled instantly, knocked unconscious. The rest scrambled frantically, sustaining cuts and bruises. But a second volley of rubble followed, seemingly aimed with precision. The injured men couldn't evade this time; all slumped to the floor, out cold.
For Soul Apprentices, though, the falling debris was merely a nuisance. Zhang Yang, poised near the staircase, and his two guards—one tall, one short—dodged the projectiles with contemptuous ease.
Bai Yunfei plunged through the swirling dust and debris. The instant his boots hit the polished floorboards, he rolled smoothly to absorb the impact, springing back up in one fluid motion—and launched himself straight at Zhang Yang!
"Ambush! Protect the Young Master!"
The taller guard, Li Shi—a Late-Stage Soul Apprentice—reacted first. He lunged after Bai Yunfei almost simultaneously with his charge, sword flashing. The shorter guard, Du Xin—a Late-Stage Soul Disciple—followed half a heartbeat later.
The hall was vast. Bai Yunfei had landed nearly twenty meters from Zhang Yang, but only ten meters separated him from the two guards. All three moved with blinding speed; to the untrained eye, they were little more than blurs. In seconds, Bai Yunfei had covered half the distance.
Li Shi closed in rapidly, his long blade thrusting toward Bai Yunfei's back like a viper's strike.
At the last possible instant, Bai Yunfei veered sharply left, dodging the blade. As he pivoted, he harnessed the momentum of his spin—and whipped his right hand forward. A blur of movement, then three icy glints sliced through the air!
The essence of flying daggers: speed, steadiness, precision!
After relentless practice, Bai Yunfei's dagger skills weren't yet flawless—but they were lethally sharp.
Three reinforced daggers flew true. Li Shi, startled but quick, twisted his sword. Clang! One dagger ricocheted away harmlessly.
Only one? Yes—for the other two daggers weren't meant for him. They streaked toward Du Xin trailing behind!