After the clash of metal just now, Xu Qinghuan set her teacup aside, picked up the Huadiao wine jug on the table, and poured herself a cup.
The hall remained quiet for about a dozen breaths before He Minghu was the first to lose his composure. He turned sideways toward the tightly shut wooden doors and shouted at the top of his voice.
"Zhou Biao!"
This man was the head of the vice general's personal guards. Having followed He Minghu for over ten years, he was a heavily trusted confidant.
Tonight, Zhou Biao had been arranged to lie in ambush behind the pillars around the courtyard, leading twenty heavily armored guards specifically waiting for Xu Zhan to walk into the trap.
However, this voice passed through the carved wooden doors and fell into the courtyard, yet no one answered.
Just then, the night wind swept past the roof tiles, blowing the iron bells at the eaves to ring twice. Other than that, there was no movement.
He Minghu's face darkened, and he raised his voice to shout again.
"Zhou Biao! Get in here and report!"
This shout was a bit heavier than the last, echoing in the spacious back hall, but still, no one answered.
A cricket in the courtyard chirped twice, and the night watch drum on the distant city wall struck slowly, its muffled sound dissipating into the night.
He Minghu turned to look at Ma Jin'an.
The smile on Ma Jin'an's face had faded. His hands were folded on the table, his fingers pulled taut and straight.
The Censor did not speak. His gaze shifted from Xu Qinghuan to the tightly shut wooden doors.
Ma Jin'an had heard the clash of metal and the heavy thud of flesh and bone clearly, and he had also clearly seen the dark red splash across the window paper.
All these sounds together indicated that a fight had indeed taken place in the courtyard.
According to the deployment, Zhou Biao had led twenty elite armored guards to ambush behind the corridors and rockeries. Xu Zhan had gone out for a walk alone. No matter how formidable his mace techniques were, twenty against one should have yielded a result within thirty to fifty breaths.
Yet right now, there was no sound at all in the courtyard.
Ma Jin'an curled his fingertips, stood up, and slowly walked to the window, reaching out to push open the lattice to look outside.
"Censor Ma."
Xu Qinghuan's voice came from behind, and Ma Jin'an's hand paused mid-air.
"What's the rush? We haven't finished our wine yet."
Ma Jin'an turned his head and saw Xu Qinghuan slowly bringing the cup of Huadiao to her lips to take a sip.
The wine shimmered in the candlelight. Xu Qinghuan looked composed, completely ignoring the dark red splash on the window paper.
Ma Jin'an slowly withdrew his hand, turned around, and sat back down in his chair.
"Lord Xu is quite calm."
"Aren't you calm as well, Ma Jin'an?" Xu Qinghuan put down her wine cup and lightly traced the rim with her finger. "You spoke quite well just now, saying something like 'this banquet won't end easily tonight.' I thought you had some punitive measures to show off."
Ma Jin'an did not take the bait and glanced at He Minghu.
He Minghu had already stood up, half his body leaning toward the door, his hand gripping the hilt of the sword at his waist so tightly that the veins on his forehead were bulging.
"General He!" Ma Jin'an kept his voice very flat. "Sit down."
"Zhou Biao and his twenty men—"
"Sit down..."
Ma Jin'an repeated, biting out the words tightly.
He Minghu turned to meet Ma Jin'an's gaze, finding only cold calculation in those eyes.
He Minghu sighed, gritted his teeth, pushed his half-drawn blade back into its sheath, and slumped back into his chair.
The hall returned to silence.
Zhou Biao's twenty elite guards were divided into three groups: seven ambushing behind the east corridor pillars, eight behind the rockery screen, and five in the courtyard gate passage.
As long as Xu Zhan stepped out, no matter which direction he took, he would step into the encirclement. These twenty men were all elites handpicked by He Minghu from the Ironclad Guards. Everyone wore dark armor and wielded standard waist sabers, more than enough to handle such a close-quarters siege.
But there was no noise of fighting in the courtyard, no screams for help, not even the continuous clashing of weapons.
There was only one clash of metal, one heavy thud, and then nothing.
This meant a melee had never even formed.
Ma Jin'an stared at his clasped fingers inside his sleeves, his throat tightening.
"General He," Xu Qinghuan suddenly spoke again.
He Minghu's body tensed.
"You haven't finished offering your toast from earlier."
Xu Qinghuan smiled, picked up the wine jug, and refilled the empty cup in front of He Minghu.
As the wine poured into the cup, He Minghu stared at the overflowing Huadiao, not reaching out to take it.
"What's wrong?" Xu Qinghuan frowned. "General He invited me to drink, but you won't drink yourself? That is no way to treat a guest."
"Lord Xu." Ma Jin'an spoke, his throat dry, trying hard to keep his tone steady. "Aren't you curious about the commotion in the courtyard just now?"
"Curious about what?" Xu Qinghuan picked up her own wine cup and took another sip. "My second brother said he was going out for a walk, so he went out. The vice general's garden must be quite large; it's only natural to take a stroll."
"As for those sounds..." Xu Qinghuan downed the wine in her cup, the porcelain clinking crisply as she set it on the table.
"Perhaps he just bumped into something."
Ma Jin'an stared intently at Xu Qinghuan, trying to read panic or smugness in those eyes.
But this face still only showed the politeness and composure expected of a guest attending a banquet. It was as if everything happening in the courtyard truly had nothing to do with her, and her brother had merely bumped into something by accident while out for a walk.
Ma Jin'an kept his mouth shut. The three people in the hall each harbored their own thoughts, and no one spoke first.
The candlelight flickered twice in the draft. The night air seeping through the cracks in the door was clearly mixed with the scent of blood.
He Minghu's face, at this moment, paled inch by inch.
After all, as someone who had crawled his way up from the battlefield, his ability to identify this smell was extremely sharp.
The bloody stench drifting in through the door cracks was incredibly thick, far beyond what one or two bleeding people could produce; it almost permeated the entire courtyard.
He Minghu finally could sit still no longer.
"Damn it!"
He Minghu slammed his hand on the table, causing the bowls and plates to rattle wildly, and was about to jump up and rush to the door.
"General He, wait a moment. Let me just ask."
Xu Qinghuan called out to stop him, her voice ringing out exactly as He Minghu slammed the table to rise.
She did not look at He Minghu, but only turned her head toward the carved wooden doors, her clear voice penetrating the wood and carrying into the courtyard.
"Centurion Xu."
All sounds in the hall vanished. He Minghu and Ma Jin'an both looked toward the outside of the doors.
A moment later.
Xu Zhan's slightly lazy voice came from outside the door.
"To answer the Imperial Envoy."
"Nothing happened."
