Chapter 600: Assassination

Night, the hour of the serpent.

A black shadow nimbly vaulted the outer wall of the Garrison Commander’s residence. He moved close along walls and rockeries, keeping his figure in darkness at all times. Even when serving maids and household guards passed by, they could hardly make out his form.

Quickly, he arrived before a residence. He narrowed his eyes and silently observed the interior for a moment, then his body quietly withdrew behind a cluster of rockeries, his figure seeming to merge into one with them.

He waited in utter stillness. In the northern lands’ winter, the night air was bitterly cold, yet he remained motionless. His breathing was slow and faint, as if barely there.

He waited quietly. After an unknown length of time, a fat middle-aged man in a Garrison Commander’s official robes came humming a tune, accompanied by several attendants.

He appeared thoroughly drunk, and the guards beside him staggered just as badly.

“Hehe, little darling, open the door!”

The fat Garrison Commander pounded loudly on the door.

“You deadbeat, I waited for you all night, but you went to find that foxy flirt. Tonight you can just take care of yourself.”

A coquettish yet angry woman’s voice came from within.

The fat Garrison Commander pleaded, “Darling, you know your husband was only socializing. Those merchants invited me — how could I not play along? But in my heart, there has always been only you. Even that Wang thief’s concubine Ji Junjiao, famed as the greatest beauty under heaven, is not worth a single one of your little fingers…”

The fat Garrison Commander’s words delighted the woman inside, but thinking of her long wait, anger surged again, and she shrieked, “Not listening, not listening, I’m just not listening…”

The fat Garrison Commander spoke softly, even more ingratiatingly: “Darling, please open the door. In this freezing cold, you wouldn’t want your husband to freeze, would you?”

As he pleaded, the several attendants behind him exchanged amused glances. The master was just like this — lecherous yet henpecked, especially since the one inside was the beloved daughter of the Zhai family. She usually ordered the master around with perfect ease, and before her, he was always completely under her thumb.

Suddenly, their smiles froze.

A few soft “pfft” sounds reached the fat Garrison Commander’s ears like thunderclaps. His hair stood on end. Just as he laboriously turned his head, a gust of cold wind struck — a pitch-black sharp sword easily pierced his throat, then swiftly withdrew, carrying a few drops of blood.

In that moment, which seemed but a flash of lightning, the fat Garrison Commander and his several subordinates clutched their throats, convulsing and struggling desperately on the ground.

Faint, barely audible footsteps faded away. The woman inside listened to the sounds outside. That deadbeat — seeing she wouldn’t open the door, had he just left like that?

She resentfully pulled the brocade quilt over her head and face: “Hmph, for a whole month, don’t expect any good looks from me.”

The night was still. In the cold wind, a faint, barely perceptible scent of blood spread outward.

…

At almost the same moment, Cui Qi and his seven companions also silently scaled the outer wall of the guild hall. Guided by Ghost Fox, they advanced steadily toward the core, dealing with some roving sentries along the way. Gu Yue also opened many of the inner doors, large and small, that were bolted from within. He had a knack for opening them without producing any creaking or grating sounds.

Such sounds, in the deep of night, would be extremely loud and enough to draw many people’s attention.

This guild hall was a typical Shanxi merchant association hall, with front, middle, and rear courtyards. Inside were four stages — the Main Hall, the God of Wealth Hall, the Seven Sages Hall, and the Wenchang Hall — each stage towering over ten meters, some even dozens of meters high, with passageways on both sides below. The roofs were all double-eaved with corbel brackets in the hip-and-gable style.

Ghost Fox had already thoroughly scouted the place. These treacherous merchants’ counterfeit ticket printing was done right inside the main hall — utterly brazen beyond belief.

Soon, the group approached the main hall. Looking in from a side door, they saw a vast open space inside. Besides the majestic main stage, both sides were lined with wing rooms, partitioned by wooden pillars, numbering several dozen rooms. In the center, the original several hundred seats had vanished, replaced by a bustling scene of counterfeit ticket printing.

Lanterns hung everywhere, blazing bright. In the middle of the square stood rows of worktables, and on those tables were printing plates for counterfeit grain tickets — densely packed, too many to count. Craftsmen and assistants bustled about, stacking printed counterfeit grain tickets into chests and crates.

Around them, many armed brawny men patrolled, bearing swords and blades, even bird guns and hand cannons, all flintlock. Several men who looked like stewards occasionally picked up a large uncut sheet of grain tickets to examine and analyze, now and then exchanging a few words in low voices.

Seeing this scene, Cui Qi and the others were bursting with rage. These treacherous merchants truly had lawless audacity. The group exchanged glances, a tacit understanding among them.

They swiftly pulled out headscarves to cover their mouths and noses, then each reached behind their back — in every hand appeared a dark, indistinct object.

It was the poison smoke developed by the Eastern Route military workshop. Unlike battlefield use, this poison smoke produced a small, rather muffled sound when it exploded, and even in the dark of night, it would not carry far — let alone within such layers of buildings.

Moreover, this poison smoke was slightly weaker, not intended for lethality, but mainly to cause chaos. It was generally used by Intelligence Division field operatives.

Cui Qi made hand signals. One man produced a fire striker. Two elimination squad members held the poison smoke canisters by the base and lit the fuse at the other end. Watching the fuse burn down to just the right length, they suddenly hurled them.

“Slap! Slap!”

The sound of the poison smoke canisters hitting the ground drew many people’s attention. Many looked toward the source of the noise. One canister landed beside a worktable, not far from a counterfeit ticket craftsman’s feet. Curious, he even lifted his foot, about to step over and look.

But unexpectedly…

“Boom! Boom!”

After two muffled blasts, the poison smoke exploded. Iron fragments flew, blasting and wounding that counterfeit craftsman and several nearby assistants on the spot. At the same time, waves of eye-stinging, nose-choking thick smoke rapidly spread. Those who inhaled it immediately coughed uncontrollably, their vision swimming.

“Someone’s infiltrated!”

“Careful, this is military-grade poison…”

The main hall descended into chaos. Many people screamed loudly. Even the statue of Lord Guan enshrined in the hall seemed to watch all this in astonishment.

“Boom! Boom!”

“Boom! Boom!”

Several more poison smoke canisters were thrown. Thick smoke billowed, spreading everywhere in the hall. The people inside scurried like headless flies. Even the patrolling household guards and retainers, after inhaling the poison smoke, coughed desperately and howled in terror.

“Move out. Wipe them all out within a quarter hour!”

From within Cui Qi’s face wrap came a muffled command, thick with barely contained killing intent.

The continuous rasp of Qi sabers being drawn rang out. Amid the gleaming flash of long blades, Cui Qi and his men charged like swimming dragons into the chaotic crowd within the square…

In the still black night, the guild hall suddenly blazed with firelight reaching the sky. The front, middle, and rear courtyards were all engulfed in flames and smoke, startling countless people awake to watch.

At the same time, within the Garrison Commander’s residence, a shrill, piercing howl rang out: “Someone come quickly! Assassins…”

Tonight, Lingqiu County town was destined to be sleepless.

…

The second day of the eleventh month, Shanxi Garrison, Dai Prefecture, the hour of the sheep.

Guard Commander Hao Yongsheng, with a few retainers, swaggered down the main street. Reckoning the time, the next big opera at the Tianhou Temple theater was about to start. Thinking of that qingyi performer he had seen that day, his heart itched. Though that qingyi was male, he portrayed the fierce virtue and dignified grace of a chaste woman to absolute perfection.

Hao Yongsheng’s heart felt as if clawed by a cat. If that qingyi wore his costume and performed like this and that in bed — he wondered what the flavor would be like?

What infuriated him was that the young Department Magistrate, the old Garrison Commander, and several other Guard Commanders had all coincidentally taken notice of this qingyi. Trying to keep him all to himself seemed very difficult. But taking turns playing with him for a few days — even the Department Magistrate should give him that much face. After all, the old Garrison Commander was about to retire, and with support from all sides, Hao Yongsheng was widely expected to be the next Garrison Commander.

Ahead, several soldiers came swaggering toward him, their red felt military caps tilted, wearing worn mandarin-duck battle jackets. In the freezing weather, each still had his chest bared, the black hair on their chests each more abundant than the last. They looked utterly brazen, overturning several stalls along the way, then carelessly tossing down a silver ingot.

Each of them laughed loudly: “We’ve struck it rich — plenty of money to spare.”

Seeing their ferocious, fiendish looks, pedestrians hurriedly scattered. Hao Yongsheng watched these soldiers come straight toward him and silently cursed his bad luck. He had no idea where these rowdy troops came from, what they had looted, coming to flaunt it on the main street.

Given his status, there was naturally no reason for him to yield the way to a few lowly soldiers. But he was in a hurry to watch the opera early, and even more eager to see that qingyi who had captivated his soul and senses, so he could not be bothered to assert his rank. Besides, everyone knew that rowdy soldiers were untouchable nowadays — they mutinied at the slightest provocation.

He yielded the way, but the several retainers beside him were indignant. Following Commander Hao in Yizhou city, they were used to getting whatever wind and rain they wanted — who did not look up to them with respect? A few lowly soldiers, expecting them to yield the way?

But since Lord Hao himself had yielded the way, they had no reason not to yield. Each secretly resolved to investigate afterward — which battalion these fellows belonged to — and settle accounts properly later. Reluctantly, they moved aside.

One retainer, however, still simmered with indignation and was unavoidably a bit slow in his movements. As he passed by, one of the ruffians among the soldiers glared and barked: "You mangy cur! Before your grandpa, you dare not dodge aside?"

Under the retainer's dumbfounded gaze, he raised a hand the size of a palm-leaf fan and swung it toward his face.

The retainer had no time even to dodge.

*Slap!*

He felt sparks burst before his eyes, his head buzzing, his mouth sweet.

He spat — several teeth came out along with bloody saliva.

He stood stunned as a wooden chicken, then let out a howl: "You dare strike me? Your master will fight you to the death!"

The remaining retainers, sharing a common hatred, rushed in together to grapple and brawl.

Hao Yongsheng was frantic with anxiety and shouted: "Stop fighting! Stop fighting!"

Without his noticing, the remaining ruffians had already encircled him. Hao Yongsheng suddenly felt a chill in his heart — he too had a military background and still possessed some vigilance. With a glance, he spotted the fine Qi-style sabers each soldier carried. They were merely common squad leaders — how could they possess such high-quality Qi sabers?

The thought had just surfaced when a cold gleam flashed at the corner of his eye. He knew — someone beside him had already drawn a blade and was striking to kill.

In that instant, Hao Yongsheng could only shift his body slightly aside. He felt a chill — his right arm had already left his body. Hao Yongsheng let out a terrible scream, rolling and scrambling away.

The blade-light flashed again — the keen Qi saber thrust deep into his left ribs from the other side. Hao Yongsheng howled with earth-shattering agony, bloody froth gushing from his mouth in great surges. The violent pain convulsed his entire body. He was drenched in blood, the muscles of his face completely contorted.

And those several retainers, stupefied and caught off guard, were slain in an instant by the two "ruffians."

Hao Yongsheng now rolled on the ground, feeling as if all strength had drained from his body. Yet survival instinct still drove him to crawl desperately forward. The several "ruffians" pursued from behind, hacking at him relentlessly with their blades.

Taking blade after blade, Hao Yongsheng howled, struggling to crawl onward, leaving a trail of steaming hot blood that billowed with heat in the cold wind.

The sudden bloody crime made the pedestrians on the street cry out in alarm, then form a distant circle to watch — watching those "ruffians," over a mere quarrel, cut down the Guard Commander on the spot, then with even greater impunity pursue and hack at him.

At last, Hao Yongsheng's voice ceased. He lay prone on the ground, eyes wide open, as if dying with a grievance unredressed.

The several "ruffians" exchanged glances. One stepped forward, checked Hao Yongsheng's breath, and nodded.

The leader swept his gaze over the surrounding crowd. He planted one foot on Hao Yongsheng's corpse, abruptly drew a stack of handbills from his bosom, and flung them forcefully — scattering them like snowflakes across the street. He shouted fiercely: "Treacherous merchants sell out the nation, and villains shield them! Whoever dares collude with them — every man has the right to put them to death!"

By the time the garrison troops within the city arrived, the figures of the "ruffians" were already gone. Only the corpses of Hao Yongsheng and his men remained, lying in pools of blood that covered the ground.

Many of the handbills had also been snatched up in the scramble. To be continued. Exciting novel [web] Remember our web address: