Inside the Huaqing Courtyard, the firelight flickered. The stench of blood mingled with the chill of the night breeze, permeating the courtyard recklessly.
The moment Pei Cijing landed.
He could clearly feel the gazes from all around landing squarely on him. In those eyes, there was vigilance, confusion, wariness, and, as he believed, a hint of awe.
He slightly raised his chin.
The shadow of his bamboo hat obscured most of his face, revealing only a sharply defined jawline. As the night wind brushed past, his robes fluttered gently, making the black-clad figure appear all the more mysterious and unfathomable.
Absolutely dashing!
Pei Cijing silently gave himself a perfect score in his heart.
This entire outfit had cost him a full two hundred Melon-Eating Points. With a single click, he had changed his attire. From head to toe, inside and out, from the black robes to the bamboo hat, everything was a premium good produced by the System.
Although it was a bit expensive, the effect was immediate.
This entrance!
This aura!
This atmosphere!
It was the absolute epitome of an otherworldly master!
Totally worth it!
Of course, changing into this outfit was not just to look cool.
Pei Cijing was very clear in his mind. Although he came to Huaqing Courtyard to rescue the royal family, the Hanyuan Hall was the main battlefield of tonight's palace coup. The old Emperor was the primary person everyone should be rushing to save.
But what about him?
He had the ability, yet instead of saving the old Emperor first, he went out of his way to rescue the Empress.
If someone with ulterior motives recognized him and spread the word, his merit could easily turn into a disaster. Others would not care that he was just worried about his wife; they would only say he had no respect for the Emperor and disregarded His Majesty's safety.
Rather than leaving such a hidden danger, it was better to conceal his identity from the very beginning.
As the saying goes, brush off your clothes and leave after the deed is done, doing good without leaving a name. Ensuring his wife's safety was the number one priority.
Pei Cijing stood with his hands behind his back. Beneath the shadow of the bamboo hat, the corners of his lips curved up slightly.
Perfect.
However...
He had no idea that what everyone present was thinking at this moment was completely different from what he was thinking.
The Imperial Guards: Who is this? Dressed in pitch black and wearing a bamboo hat, what kind of good person would dress like this in the imperial palace? Could it be reinforcements for the rebels?
The Rebels: Who is this? This getup... could it be a hidden card arranged by His Highness the Crown Prince? But why is this person standing completely still after landing? Is he one of us or not? Why hasn't he attacked the Empress yet?
For a moment.
Both sides, each with their own thoughts, bizarrely froze at the exact same time.
Everyone's gaze fell upon that black silhouette.
Feeling the stares coming from all directions, Pei Cijing felt secretly smug. This aura, this presence, it was definitely worth the two hundred Melon-Eating Points.
Look at the expressions in their eyes; they must all be intimidated by him, right?
He cleared his throat.
His voice was not loud, but it reached everyone's ears clearly.
"Step aside, I will handle this."
The imperial guards were stunned.
The rebels were also stunned.
Step aside? Step aside for what? You will handle this? Handle what?
Pei Cijing, on the other hand, stepped forward. His pace was neither hurried nor slow, walking straight toward the direction of the burly man who was being besieged. He walked very steadily, every step planting firmly on the ground, his robes fluttering gently in the night breeze.
The few imperial guards besieging the burly man subconsciously stepped aside.
Not because they were obedient.
But because they had not reacted in time.
By the time they came back to their senses, the black figure had already walked to a spot not far in front of the burly man, and then...
Stopped in his tracks.
Someone among the imperial guards finally realized that this was probably an ally and shouted anxiously: "Brave warrior, be careful! This man is invulnerable to swords and spears, and possesses boundless strength! We have besieged him for a long time without harming a single hair on his head! It is better if we attack together!"
That voice carried a bit of anxiety and a bit of worry.
Pei Cijing tilted his head slightly. From beneath the shadow of the bamboo hat came a flat voice: "It does not matter. Go support the others, leave this place to me."
The imperial guards looked at each other in dismay.
Go support the others?
Leave this place to him?
Him alone?
That was a monster invulnerable to weapons!
More than a dozen of them attacking together could not take him down, could he do it alone?
But the black figure just stood there, his tone as flat as if he were saying "Do not worry, I am not a three or four-year-old child anymore, I know how to drink water when I am thirsty," without the slightest hint of nervousness.
The imperial guards were half-believing and half-doubting, but they did not dare to disobey.
The scene of that old woman getting a triple kill with a single walking stick just now was still fresh in their minds, making them understand a principle: in these times, the more inconspicuous a person looks, the less they can be underestimated.
They slowly backed away but did not go far, instead standing guard nearby with vigilant faces, ready to rush up and assist at any time.
As for that burly man, he had not moved from beginning to end.
He just stood there, squinting at Pei Cijing, watching those imperial guards retreat, and watching the black figure step closer and closer.
Then, he smiled.
That smile was full of ridicule, along with a bit of playfulness like a cat toying with a mouse.
"Boy!" he spoke, his voice as rough as grinding gravel. "You have quite the nerve."
Pei Cijing did not speak.
The burly man continued: "You heard what those people just said, right? Invulnerable to weapons, boundless strength. Over a dozen of them coming at me together could not do anything to me, and you alone..."
He paused, grinning to reveal a ferocious smile.
"Are you here to throw your life away?"
Pei Cijing still did not speak. Beneath the shadow of the bamboo hat was a pair of eyes so calm they bordered on apathy. His gaze fell upon the burly man, making him feel an inexplicable chill down his spine.
Looking at his demeanor, the burly man suddenly felt a bit unsure.
This person...
Did he really have skills, or was he just putting on an act?
Whatever!
Who cares!
Since he dared to stand out alone, then let him taste what true despair is!
The burly man stopped wasting words.
He violently stepped forward and charged toward Pei Cijing.
That massive body was like a moving hill; with every step he took, the ground trembled slightly. He charged extremely fast, a speed completely unbefitting his enormous size, like a humanoid beast, bringing with him a howling wind as he crashed straight toward Pei Cijing.
He wanted to use the most brutal method to crush this boy who did not know his place!
Five steps.
Three steps.
One step.
The burly man rushed in front of Pei Cijing, his palm as large as a fan reaching out to grab him, preparing to lift him up like a little chicken, and then...
Pei Cijing moved.
He raised his hand and threw a punch. The speed of that fist was not fast, and its force seemed completely ordinary, heading straight for the burly man's face.
A trace of disdain flashed across the burly man's eyes.
Was this it?
He thought this person dared to challenge him one-on-one because he had some real skills, but it turned out to be nothing more than posturing. The force behind this punch would probably not even be enough to scratch an itch.
He grinned, raising his hand, preparing to grab that fist and let this boy know the meaning of despair.
However...
What greeted him was a cloud of powder.
A cloud of white, fine powder carrying a pungent smell.
That powder exploded from between Pei Cijing's fingers, covering the burly man's face right from the top of his head. His mouth, nose, eyes, and ears were entirely coated in that white dust.
"Ahhh!!!"
The burly man let out a shrill, miserable shriek.
The moment the powder entered his eyes, it stung so much he could not open them; entering his nose, it choked him until he could not breathe; entering his mouth, it was so spicy that his tongue went completely numb.
His eyes felt as if they were on fire. Tears gushed out uncontrollably, but the more they flowed, the deeper the powder drilled in, making the stinging pain even more agonizing.
He instinctively let go of Pei Cijing's hand, covered his face, and frantically rubbed his eyes, letting out a beast-like howl.
"My eyes!! My eyes!!"
Pei Cijing took a step back. Looking at the burly man screaming with his face covered, he couldn't help but sigh, "What a blockhead."
Ten Gossip Points.
One pack of quicklime powder.
Produced by the System, guaranteed genuine.
If it were a proper fight, it wasn't like he couldn't take the man down, but it would take some effort. So, Pei Cijing decided to play dirty. Who would have thought this guy wouldn't even try to dodge, and just reached out to catch it?
Who could be blamed for that?
Pei Cijing shook his head.
Then again, he couldn't entirely blame the burly man.
Who could have expected it?
A black-clad swordsman making a grand entrance with an overwhelming badass aura, looking like a peerless master, would actually use such underhanded tricks? The facade he put up was just too high-class!
A normal person wouldn't expect it, so naturally, the burly man didn't either.
Therefore, he fell for it.
Fell for it completely.
Looking at the defenseless, screaming man covering his face, Pei Cijing suddenly felt a bit embarrassed—this was practically bullying an honest man.
But embarrassment aside, what needed to be done still had to be done.
He took a step forward.
Raised his leg.
The family-ending kick to the groin.
"Aooo—!!!"
The burly man's scream pitched three degrees higher. His entire body curled up like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. He immediately moved his hands from his face to desperately clutch a certain unmentionable area.
His body trembled violently, veins bulging on his forehead. Beads of sweat the size of beans rolled down, and he let out gasping, wheezing sounds that made one hurt just listening to them.
Pei Cijing looked at his miserable state.
He calculated silently in his heart.
Quicklime to the eyes, a family-ending kick to the groin. A double strike, dual physical and mental torture. If this guy could still stand up, Pei Cijing would write his name backward.
But just to be safe, he should add one more kick.
He raised his foot.
Aimed at the burly man's temple, and stomped down.
Thud.
A muffled sound.
The burly man's body swayed, then completely went limp, sprawling on the ground like a puddle of mud, devoid of any movement.
Sleeping peacefully.
Pei Cijing retracted his foot and looked down at the unconscious behemoth on the ground, nodding in satisfaction.
Done.
Less than three moves, costing only ten Gossip Points. Easy peasy.
He raised his head, his gaze sweeping the surroundings.
The royal guards who were ready to back him up at any moment were all staring with wide eyes and open mouths. Their expressions were absolutely priceless. Some had their jaws practically dropping to the ground, others had their eyes bulging out, and some almost dropped their swords from their trembling hands.
That was... it?
That invulnerable, monstrously strong brute, the monster that over a dozen of them couldn't take down even by surrounding him, was just taken out in three moves?
A pack of powder?
A kick to the groin?
And a stomp to knock him out?
The guards looked at each other in dismay, not knowing what to say for a moment.
Pei Cijing ignored their shock.
He stepped forward, walking toward the other side of the battlefield.
Over there, the guards and the rebels were still engaged in a bloody slaughter. Swords clashed, battle cries shook the heavens, and blood splattered on the bluestone slabs, gleaming darkly under the firelight.
The rebels had the advantage in numbers. Although the guards fought desperately, they were gradually losing ground.
Pei Cijing stepped into the battlefield.
His pace was unhurried, as relaxed as a stroll in a courtyard. His figure weaved through the flashing blades and sword shadows like a falling leaf, a wisp of breeze, a phantom-like shadow.
Every time he passed by a rebel, he casually waved his hand.
No flashy moves, no earth-shattering momentum.
Just a light wave.
Then he continued forward.
The rebel would freeze for a moment. Before he could even react to what happened, he would feel a chill on his neck.
He would instinctively reach out to touch it.
What he touched was a thin, fine cut.
Perhaps because the sword was too fast, he barely felt any pain, but the blood couldn't stop gushing out—warm, sticky, slipping through his fingers.
He wanted to scream.
But no sound came from his throat.
His body swayed, and then he collapsed powerlessly.
Pei Cijing did not look back.
He kept walking forward.
Every time he passed a rebel, he casually waved his hand.
A line of blood.
A muffled thud.
A corpse falling.
He just walked and swung, harvesting the lives of those rebels like reaping wheat. The rebels didn't even have time to react, time to resist, or even time to see the blade that swept out from the darkness.
One step.
One person fell.
Another step.
Another person fell.
The guards watched, dumbfounded.
What...
What kind of sword technique was this?
The battlefield they had been fighting tooth and nail to barely hold seemed as simple as a child's game in front of this man. He just walked and swung, and the rebels fell in swaths like cut wheat.
No one could stop him.
No one could get close to him.
No one could even see how he struck.
His silhouette flickered in the firelight like a dark ghost, reaping life after life.
The rebels finally panicked.
"Run! Run!"
Someone shouted first, and the remaining rebels no longer cared about the Empress's bounty or the Crown Prince's rewards. They dropped their weapons and turned to flee.
But could they escape?
No matter how fast the fleeing rebels ran, they couldn't outrun the sword blade sweeping from behind them.
In just a few moments, the courtyard was cleared of rebels.
Corpses lay haphazardly on the ground. Blood meandered across the bluestone slabs, looking like shocking, gruesome snakes under the illumination of the torches.
Only that black-clad figure stood quietly amidst the carnage.
Not a single drop of blood had stained his robes.
His sword had been sheathed at some unknown point.
He just stood there with his hands behind his back. The shadow of his bamboo hat obscured his face, and his clothes fluttered gently in the night breeze.
That scene.
It held an indescribably... eerie feeling.
Or rather, a profound, ineffable aura that transcended the mortal realm.
The guards stood frozen in place.
They looked at the figure, at the scattered corpses at his feet, at his spotless black clothes, and at his chin that had never once been lowered—
For a moment, they didn't know what to say.
After a long while.
Someone finally snapped out of it and said with a trembling voice, "Th-thank you, mighty warrior, for saving our lives!"
As soon as these words were spoken, the others also reacted, thanking him profusely. Some cupped their hands, while others bowed.
Pei Cijing waved his hand dismissively. The gesture was casual, as if he had merely done something effortless in passing.
"No need for formalities."
He spoke, his voice as flat as ever, completely devoid of emotion.
Then, he raised his head. His gaze passed over the guards, over the still-terrified female family members, and landed on a certain direction behind the crowd.
There, Shen Ninghuan stood quietly, supporting the old madam.
Their eyes met in the air.
Shen Ninghuan looked at him. In her clear eyes, something was faintly glowing. The corners of her lips curved upward into a very shallow arc, so slight it was almost imperceptible.
But Pei Cijing saw it.
He saw that smile, and he saw what was hidden behind it—she knew it was him.
Pei Cijing's gaze lingered on her face for a brief moment.
Then, he looked away.
He turned around.
And walked toward the courtyard gate.
Not far away, a squad of imperial guards was rushing over, shouting to protect the royal entourage. It seemed the battle had largely been decided, and they would be safe here now.
It was time to retreat!
His wife was safe. He needed to return to where he was supposed to be, otherwise, when the dust settled, his absence would be hard to explain.
The imperial guards were stunned.
"Hero! Please wait, hero!"
Someone shouted.
But Pei Cijing's figure did not stop. He did not even slow his pace. He simply kept walking, step by step, past the scattered corpses, through the shattered courtyard gate, and into the depths of the night.
His silhouette gradually blurred, slowly melting into the darkness.
Until, finally.
He completely disappeared...
[Ding! Successfully witnessed the drama: Mysterious expert saves the royal entourage, departing without leaving a name. Gossip Points +3888!]
[Current Gossip Points: 20316]
