This scene was naturally reported to Sima Qing by those lurking in the shadows.
In the study, Sima Qing merely flipped through the book in his hands without saying a word.
Every so often, someone would come to report the situation at the manor gates.
It wasn’t until he heard the news of Mo Jin being trampled underfoot by the woman that Sima Qing finally looked up, his expression unreadable as he asked, "Can we confirm it’s her?"
Fu Yu, standing nearby, bowed his head and replied, "This subordinate will go and test her."
Sima Qing gave a slight nod.
Another half-hour passed.
Fu Yu and Mo Jin both returned, clutching their injuries, their postures utterly disheveled.
"Your Highness..." Mo Jin’s face was grim, but his eyes gleamed with certainty. "This subordinate can confirm—the person who fought me that night was definitely her!"
Fu Yu cautiously added, "Even if it’s not her, she’s undoubtedly connected to it!"
Sima Qing raised an eyebrow slightly, clearly pleased with the outcome.
"He won’t rest until he sees me take my last breath," Sima Qing scoffed lightly before waving for another subordinate. "Come, let’s see what grand gift Prince Ping has sent us this time."
...
Jiu Yue found the Regent’s manor rather eerie.
The people here had no manners.
At the slightest provocation, they’d start fighting—what was the point? Couldn’t they just talk things out calmly?
Her steamed buns had gone cold because of it!
Jiu Yue pouted, but remembering she was here to apply for a job, she sighed and suppressed her grievances before continuing forward.
Though there didn’t seem to be many servants in the manor, Jiu Yue could sense that this place was a den of hidden talents, with countless eyes watching her from the shadows.
She couldn’t help but ponder.
If her job application failed, would she at least make it out alive?
What if the Regent was just as ill-mannered as the rest?
Jiu Yue was starting to suspect she’d been tricked by that snaggletoothed informant.
But soon, her doubts were dispelled.
Because Jiu Yue finally met the legendary Regent—
A man seated in a wheelchair, yet exuding an air of lazy elegance and nobility.
And that man was the first to speak, smiling as he asked, "Might I ask what brings you to my humble abode, young lady?"
Listen to that—such politeness!
Jiu Yue relaxed slightly, her gaze shifting to the two burly men in black beside him—both of whom she’d already defeated. Her eyes lit up, and she eagerly stepped forward, lifting her greatsword.
However, the moment she moved, figures emerged from the shadows. Fu Yu and Mo Jin immediately shielded Sima Qing, drawing their swords as if ready to engage in a bloody battle—
Only to hear Jiu Yue ask brightly, "Your Highness, are you hiring? I kill without blinking!"
"..."
Dead silence.
Honestly, Jiu Yue could feel the murderous intent, but she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong.
Maybe it was just the overwhelming aura of her fellow professionals.
With that in mind, her expression grew even more earnest. "The two beside you couldn’t beat me—hiring me would be a steal, Your Highness!"
Sima Qing: "..."
Sima Qing’s gaze darkened with complexity.
He hadn’t gotten a clear look at the assassin’s face that night, but Fu Yu and Mo Jin wouldn’t mistake her identity, and he certainly wouldn’t mistake that blade of hers.
But what was Prince Ping playing at?
Sending her here willingly—was this a peace offering?
Prince Ping wasn’t the type to bend so easily.
For a moment, Sima Qing was at a loss. He studied the girl before him, who remained blissfully unaware that she’d nearly been surrounded and slaughtered, now staring at him with an expression of pure, unshakable confidence.
"...You truly wish to join me?" Sima Qing’s voice was inscrutable.
This was going well!
Jiu Yue’s face lit up with delight, her smile turning almost fawning. "Yes, yes, Your Highness!"
"Then stay," came the man’s calm reply.
Jiu Yue: "!"
That easy?!
Even as she was led to her private quarters, Jiu Yue still felt dazed. She shook her head and sighed in amazement.
Turns out, being an assassin was a hot commodity! She’d climbed the social ladder just like that!
Outside her door, Fu Yu’s stiff voice sounded, "Rest here for now. His Highness will summon you in the afternoon."
Jiu Yue leaped onto the bed, crossing her legs and closing her eyes contentedly.
So comfortable.
Much better than that rickety cot in Snaggletooth’s shack.
Back in the study, Mo Jin was practically bursting with impatience, but Sima Qing had forbidden him from speaking. He scratched his head like an agitated baboon.
Sima Qing ignored him.
Instead, he dipped his brush and wrote the character for "Ping" on the paper before him, lost in thought.
Sima Qing considered many possibilities, even the most unlikely—that this assassin had failed her mission, been discarded by Prince Ping, and thus defected to him.
But he knew Prince Ping’s methods well. If any of his subordinates dared betray him, they’d drop dead the moment they stepped out of his manor.
So what reason could there be for her to come here willingly?
Sima Qing’s eyes darkened further.
Or was this all a ruse—a ploy to lull him into complacency before striking again?
A faint smirk tugged at his lips.
Had he given Prince Ping the impression that he was so easily fooled? To resort to such a crude tactic...
Regardless of Jiu Yue’s motives, the knife wound in his thigh was reason enough not to let this opportunity slip away.
With a slight raise of his brow, Sima Qing penned a note and tossed it to Mo Jin.
"Give this to her," Sima Qing said coolly, closing his eyes. "You and Fu Yu set up an ambush. If she tries to run, bring me her head."
Mo Jin exhaled in relief, barely suppressing a grin as he took the note and strode out.
He’d known it—there was no way His Highness would be fooled by that woman!
...
Jiu Yue was dozing off, but remembering her "interview" in the afternoon, she forced herself to stay alert. Just as she considered stepping out to ask her new "colleagues" about career prospects, the door was kicked open rudely.
It was the same burly man from that morning.
Now he stood there with an air of arrogance, and Jiu Yue’s opinion of him dropped another notch.
No manners, no class.
Mo Jin ignored her disdain, striding forward and tossing the note at her under her wary gaze.
"His Highness says if you complete this task, you can stay," Mo Jin declared, looking down his nose at her before turning on his heel and swaggering out without another word.
Jiu Yue: "..."
Her eye twitched as she swore to herself that if this oaf dared look down at her like that again, she’d shove two leeks up his nostrils.
What was he acting all high and mighty for? He couldn’t even beat her!
Grumbling, Jiu Yue crouched to pick up the note.
The ink was still fresh—clearly just written.
It bore five simple words:
"Get rid of the dog."
Jiu Yue: "...?"
