A courtyard gate is, after all, only a courtyard gate.
It might stand firm against the first impact, and barely hold up during the second and third, but it is not a massive city gate. It has no iron-cast latch, nor mechanisms to drop a thousand-pound portcullis.
It is merely a door.
A door made of wood and wrapped in copper skin.
At this moment, after countless batterings, that door was letting out agonizing groans, unable to bear the heavy burden.
Bang!
Another strike.
The wooden panels shook violently, and more glints of blades seeped through the cracks. The imperial guards pressing desperately against the door had veins bulging on their foreheads and teeth grinding loudly, yet they did not retreat a single half-step.
Bang!
A crisp crack echoed from the latch, sounding like something had snapped.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Each strike was more urgent and heavier than the last.
Finally...
Crash!
Under one last fierce collision, the vermilion doors completely broke free from their frames. They fell backward heavily, smashing into the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust.
The gate was open.
Outside, a dense, dark horde of rebel forces surged in like a tidal wave.
The light of the torches cast flickering shadows on their ferocious faces, while swords and sabers gleamed in the firelight, reflecting streaks of icy brilliance.
The battle cries shook the heavens, sounding as if they had crawled out from hell itself, piercing straight into people's hearts.
Ah!
One of the female family members finally lost control and let out a piercing shriek.
That scream acted like a fuse, instantly igniting everyone's terror. Shrieks, wails, and pleas for mercy immediately merged into a chaotic uproar.
The usually pampered noblewomen and spoiled young misses were now deathly pale and trembling all over. Some huddled together, some collapsed onto the ground, and others simply rolled their eyes back and fainted on the spot.
Only two people remained standing steadily.
The Old Madam.
And Shen Ninghuan, who was by her side.
Leaning on her red sandalwood cane, the Old Madam kept her back perfectly straight. No emotion could be seen on her wrinkled face; only her cloudy yet sharp eyes quietly watched the invading rebels.
Shen Ninghuan stood beside her.
She did not retreat.
It was not because she was unafraid, but because she knew that fear could not solve the problem, nor could terror protect her. Panicking would only make the situation worse.
Besides, there were people protecting them in front.
The imperial guards stationed behind the door did not give up their resistance just because the courtyard gate had been breached.
They still defended it to the death!
They refused to yield a single step!
They charged straight into the faces of the rebels.
Blades clashed.
Battle cries shook the sky.
Blood splattered.
Although the courtyard gate had been smashed open, it was not going to be that easy for the rebels to rush inside.
Those dozens of imperial guards.
They were the most loyal men serving the Empress.
They might have been outnumbered, but they wore sturdy armor and wielded superior weapons. They blocked the courtyard entrance with their lives, refusing to retreat a single step, using their own flesh and blood to build a human wall.
When a saber hacked over, they parried it with their own; when a sword thrust forward, they blocked it with their bodies; when one man fell, another immediately took his place.
The rebels mounted several charges, but were forcefully beaten back every time.
At the courtyard entrance.
Over a dozen bodies had already fallen.
Some belonged to the rebels, and some to the imperial guards.
Blood meandered across the bluestone slabs, gleaming with a dark, heavy luster under the torchlight like a nest of shocking serpents.
The imperial guards had, against all odds, managed to hold that gateway.
That was, until...
A figure slowly walked out from the rear of the rebel forces.
It was a burly giant of a man.
His physique was extremely robust, standing a full two heads taller than everyone around him. His shoulders were broad enough to fit two men standing side by side. He wore a tight black martial outfit that stretched taut across his body, outlining the bulging, knotted muscles beneath, making him look like a humanoid beast.
What was even more terrifying was his face.
It was covered in fierce, fleshy folds, yet his eyes were incredibly small. Currently narrowed, they looked like two knives hidden within the slits of flesh, sweeping coldly over the imperial guards blocking the door.
He held no saber.
Nor did he hold a sword.
He was completely bare-handed, stepping forward one pace at a time.
With every step he took, the ground seemed to tremble slightly.
Seeing him step forward, the other rebels parted to make way. Their gazes held fear, reverence, and a bit of excitement for a good show.
Move aside.
The large man spoke, his voice as coarse as grinding gravel.
The imperial guards did not move.
They merely tightened their grips on their weapons, staring fixedly at the approaching figure.
Seeking death.
The large man's mouth split open into a savage grin.
Then, he moved.
His movements completely contradicted his massive frame. He was as fast as a bolt of black lightning, instantly dashing in front of the leading imperial guard.
The guard was greatly alarmed and subconsciously swung his blade to strike.
The edge of the blade landed on the large man's body.
Clang!
A muffled sound rang out.
The sound did not resemble striking flesh and blood, but rather hacking into an iron plate. The guard felt a violent shock in the webbing of his hand, nearly sending his blade flying out of his grasp.
He widened his eyes, looking at the man before him in disbelief.
On the man's body, where he had been struck, the clothing was torn, revealing a shallow white mark. That white mark quickly disappeared, as if it had never been there at all.
Is that all the strength you have?
The large man sneered.
Then, he reached out his hand and grabbed the guard by the neck.
Crack.
The sound of the neck bone breaking was as crisp as snapping a dead twig.
The guard's body slumped limply to the ground.
The other guards paled in shock, but they still did not retreat. They swarmed forward, raining down swords and sabers upon the large man.
Clang, clang, clang, clang!
A chaotic flurry of sounds erupted.
The blades landed on the large man; some bounced off, while others tore through his clothes, yet they only left shallow white marks on his skin.
Those white marks vanished in an instant, as if they had never existed.
And the large man completely ignored the blades raining down upon him.
He merely walked forward.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
With every step he took, an imperial guard fell.
He smashed with his fists, kicked with his feet, headbutted, and even used his own body to ram into them. The imperial guards were sent flying by his impacts, crashing heavily onto the ground, unable to get back up.
A monster...
He is a monster...
A guard's voice trembled.
But the large man did not care.
He just kept walking forward, killing as he went. He ignored the blades striking his body; he ignored the splattering blood; and he casually kicked aside the fallen corpses.
In his eyes, there were only the female family members cowering in the back.
No.
To be precise, it was that woman wearing the dark purple phoenix robe, the Empress, Lady Qin.
As long as he captured her, it would be a great merit!
Grinning widely, he walked forward step by step.
The imperial guards desperately tried to block him, but could only delay him for a moment. He had taken an unknown number of blade strikes to his body, yet none of those wounds even broke his skin, leaving only fleeting white marks.
Watching this scene, the women completely broke down.
A demon! He is a demon!
Help! Help!
Do not come over! Do not come over!
Screams, cries, and pleas for mercy blurred into one chaotic din. Some people collapsed to the ground, some squatted with their heads in their hands, and others desperately backed away until they were pressed against the wall, with nowhere left to run.
Yet the hulking brute continued to advance.
Step by step.
Closer and closer.
Just then, an elderly voice rang out through the chaos:
"Attack his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose!"
The voice was not loud, but it steadily pierced through all the screaming and crying, reaching everyone's ears with absolute clarity.
Everyone froze.
Including the brute.
He stopped in his tracks, turned his head, and looked toward the source of the sound.
At the back of the crowd stood an old woman dressed in a dark cyan jacket. Leaning on a walking cane, she stood there quietly, her wrinkled face devoid of any emotion.
Only those cloudy yet piercing eyes stared at him coldly.
"And his nether regions," the old madam added.
Her voice remained steady, as casual as if she were talking about peeling an egg.
Being invulnerable to swords and spears was indeed impressive, but the old madam did not find it all that surprising. The Great Qian Dynasty was vast; it was hardly strange for a few eccentric individuals with unique abilities to exist.
But she certainly did not believe this man was without any flaws!
Thus, she offered her guidance.
Hearing this, the brute's brow furrowed slightly, while the imperial guards' eyes lit up.
That was it!
Being invulnerable to blades did not mean he was completely impenetrable! The eyes, ears, mouth, and nose were all fragile spots! And the nether regions—
One guard unhesitatingly thrust his blade straight at the brute's eyes.
The man's expression shifted slightly, and he instinctively turned his head to dodge.
Another guard took the opportunity to circle behind him, thrusting a sword toward his groin.
Startled, the brute hastily spun around to block it.
This block exposed an opening.
He could no longer march forward with reckless abandon as he had before.
Having received guidance, the guards focused entirely on his vital points. Swords and sabers went straight for his eyes, ears, nose, mouth, and that most fatal lower region.
The brute was caught off guard and began to look rather wretched.
He was indeed impervious to blades.
But if those vital spots took a hit, it would still be fatal.
He had to divide his attention to protect himself, had to slow his pace to parry, and was forced to become timid in his movements. The imperial guards, whom he had previously dismissed as nothing, had suddenly become troublesome opponents.
Even so, he alone still managed to tie down nearly ten guards.
As a result, a gap appeared in the defensive line at the courtyard gate.
Seizing this opportunity, three rebel soldiers broke through the guards' blockade and charged straight for the Empress.
"Kill!"
"Capture the Empress!"
Gripping their sabers, the three men lunged toward the Empress like ravenous wolves. Standing in their way was only a group of frail, defenseless women.
Seeing them charge over, the women were frightened out of their wits.
Screams erupted once more.
Some desperately backed away, some crouched with their heads in their hands, and others simply rolled their eyes back and fainted. The fragile order that had barely been maintained instantly collapsed.
The crowd retreated like a receding tide.
Only one person did not retreat.
The old madam remained standing exactly where she was.
Leaning on her purple sandalwood cane, she kept her back perfectly straight, like a weathered old pine tree that had survived countless blizzards. She simply stood at the very front of all the female family members, directly facing the three charging rebels.
The three rebels drew closer.
Ten paces.
Five paces.
Three paces.
The gleam of their blades flashed under the torchlight, illuminating their three ferocious faces in flickering shadows.
They had already seen the old woman blocking their path, seen the walking cane, and seen those cloudy yet calm eyes.
They did not take the old madam seriously at all.
What threat could an old crone with one foot in the grave possibly pose?
The three of them charged straight ahead, their sabers raised high, ready to cleave this obstacle in two.
And then—
The old madam moved.
The purple sandalwood cane in her hands suddenly transformed into a striking black dragon.
She took a step forward with her right foot, angled her body slightly, gripped the tail end of the cane with both hands, and thrust it forward. The motion was as smooth as flowing water and as fast as a flash of light, so fast that the first rebel did not even have time to react—
The tip of the cane had already pierced straight through his throat.
"Urgh..."
The rebel's eyes widened, staring at the old woman before him in utter disbelief.
A walking cane could kill?
His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he only spat out a mouthful of bloody froth. Then, his body went limp and collapsed to the ground.
The old madam retracted her cane.
Her movements did not pause for a single second.
The second rebel's saber was already slashing down toward her.
The old madam gripped the middle of the cane with both hands and pushed it upward. With a loud clang, the blade was parried. Following the momentum, she pushed the cane forward and deflected it to the right, knocking the blade aside.
Then—
She gripped the tail end of the cane with both hands, swung the entire staff in a full arc, and smashed it fiercely against the head of the rebel in front of her.
Thud!
A muffled crack rang out.
The rebel's head split open like an overripe watermelon. His body swayed, and then he fell backward, stiff as a board, put to eternal rest.
The third rebel finally snapped back to his senses.
Gripping his saber, he stared wide-eyed at the old madam, his eyes full of disbelief. Was this old crone a human or a ghost? How could she be so fierce?
But his actions did not hesitate.
He tried to launch a dishonorable sneak attack from behind, but the old madam did not give him the satisfaction of succeeding. Gripping the cane with both hands, she spun around and thrust it backward—a classic return-thrust!
The tip of the cane accurately pierced through the throat of the final rebel.
"Urgh..."
Staring with bulging eyes, the rebel slowly fell to his knees and then collapsed face-first onto the ground, devoid of life. From the moment the first rebel fell to the moment the third perished, only a few brief breaths of time had passed.
Three strong men in the prime of their lives, fierce as wolves and tigers, had died just like that beneath a walking cane.
Slain by the hands of an old woman nearing seventy.
The screaming in the courtyard had stopped at some point.
Everyone's eyes were wide, staring at the scene in absolute disbelief.
The women who had collapsed to the ground, the young ladies crouching with their hands over their heads, and the noblewomen shivering in the corners—at this moment, they all looked as if they had been frozen in place. Their mouths were agape, their eyes wide, forgetting even to breathe.
Was this still the same old madam who spent her days eating vegetarian meals, reciting Buddhist scriptures, and living in deep seclusion?
Was this still the frail elder who looked as though a gust of wind could blow her over?
This...
This was clearly a god of slaughter reincarnated!
The old madam leaned on her cane, gasping heavily for air.
Her age had caught up with her after all.
To think she would actually feel physically drained just from dealing with three petty thieves.
Casting her eyes downward, she looked at the three corpses on the ground, then at her own slightly trembling hands, and sighed softly in her heart.
She was old.
She really had to admit defeat to her age.
Back in her prime on the battlefield, she could charge in and out of enemy lines single-handedly, slaughtering the foreign tribes until their ranks were in absolute disarray. Now, merely exerting herself for a few brief moments left her panting like this.
Time spared no one.
Shen Ninghuan walked over quickly, wanting to step forward and support her. The old madam shook her head slightly, gesturing that she was fine. Just then—
A figure descended from the sky.
The figure landed a short distance in front of the old madam. The sound of the landing was very light, yet it carried an imposing, razor-sharp aura.
Dressed in black.
Wearing a bamboo hat.
The bamboo hat was pulled down low, concealing most of the face and revealing only a sharply defined jawline.
In this chaotic courtyard, amidst a night woven with firelight and the stench of blood, a person dressed in such a manner descending from the sky hardly looked like an upstanding citizen.
Yet, Shen Ninghuan felt a profound wave of relief upon seeing this person arrive.
Because she heard it.
She heard the thoughts surging in the mind of the figure dropping from above:
"Wifey, I'm here to save you!"
"Wait?"
"Holy crap, Granny is a badass!"
"A triple kill?!"
"This old lady really hid her true strength!"
That voice was one she couldn't be more familiar with. It carried a bit of urgency, a bit of panic, and a bit of... Pei Cijing's unique, delightfully exasperating, scatterbrained logic.
Standing beside the old madam, Shen Ninghuan watched the figure in the black clothes and bamboo hat. The corners of her lips suddenly curled up into a smile, an arc so shallow it was almost imperceptible.
But deep within her eyes, something was softly gleaming...
