Chapter 38: The Hidden Assassination Order

Meanwhile, the masked man stomped hard, leaving a footprint an inch deep in the bricks of a high courtyard wall.

Instantly, his body twisted mid-air, unleashing powerful true qi that propelled him hurtling in another direction.

Li Muxian, seated on the rooftop, looked up, furrowed his brows slightly, and prepared to swat away the flying object.

But the old man behind him suddenly exploded in speed, charging straight at Li Muxian, bellowing in a deep voice:

“Get out of the way!”

The old man’s face was aged and sagging, wrinkles piled like deep ravines, yet his eyes were sharp and sinister.

His grayish palms emitted a faint glow, his robust true qi surging into fierce gales—one hand snatching at the cloth-wrapped object, the other striking Li Muxian without hesitation.

“You old bastard!”

Li Muxian’s expression darkened; he had only wanted to enjoy the moonlight and had no wish to stir trouble.

Yet these people had no sense at all—they rushed right at him, and not only that, they attacked without asking why. Who could tolerate that?

So, the hand that had been meant to swat the object suddenly twisted at an impossible angle, meeting the old man’s palm head-on—his gaze cruel, his killing intent fierce.

At that moment, in the old man’s eyes, his other hand was nearly touching the cloth-wrapped object, and a surge of wild joy rose in his chest.

As for this pale-faced youth who hadn’t even grown hair yet—he paid him no mind. Youthful as he was, even if he knew some martial arts, how could he possibly match a man who had trained for decades? He was certain he could crush him with one blow.

Yet the next instant, the old man suddenly realized the object he was about to seize had vanished from his sight.

A ferocious expression flashed across his face—he thought someone had snatched it from his grasp.

But as searing pain shot through his arm, he looked down in horror and realized—he himself had been blasted backward.

His arm, which had clashed with Li Muxian’s palm, was now twisted and broken like a twisted rope.

Shock and unbearable agony—his organs shattered—caused his pupils to contract. His peripheral vision showed the young man’s figure on the rooftop shrinking rapidly.

He understood now—he had been hurled dozens of meters away, and showed no sign of stopping.

“...How is this possible... so strong?”

The old man’s heart trembled in terror—yet just then, the young man’s figure in his peripheral vision vanished entirely.

The next instant, a voice sounded beside his ear:

“Go back.”

Instantly, the old man felt like a floating weed in a storm—his body, like a torn sack, was kicked back along the same path by a single foot.

Meanwhile, the masked man, after throwing the cloth-wrapped object, had kept running without looking back.

True qi surged between his feet, tearing through the air with a whistling roar as he sped through alley after alley.

He reached into his chest, felt the item inside undamaged, glanced back at the red-clad woman still chasing him, and smirked:

“I hope that kid’s got just enough sense to hold off the old bastard for a bit. Once we’re farther away, I’ll find a chance to kill this woman.”

Thinking this, the masked man turned his head and darted into another long street around the alley’s corner.

But he had barely sprinted a few zhang when he suddenly froze in place.

Beneath the silver moonlight, the quiet, empty brick street ahead now held a young figure—standing directly in his escape path.

The masked man stared hard—and froze.

“How is it you?”

The young man before him was stunningly beautiful, dressed in plain robes—but he recognized him at once: the same youth who had been sitting on the rooftop.

At that moment, the young man in front stared blankly at him, then extended his hand and asked:

“Where’s the gift you promised me?”

The masked man stood rooted, his expression uncertain and alarmed—he couldn’t understand how the man who should have been crushed by the old man’s palm now stood before him.

But he had a feeling this youth was extremely dangerous, so he quickly shifted his thoughts, bowed, and said:

“Young brother, the cloth I threw to you contained a gold bar—that’s the gift I meant for you.”

As he spoke, the masked man glanced sideways—seeing the red-clad woman drawing nearer—and hurried on:

“Young brother, I’m being hunted—I must flee. The gold bar’s yours. Farewell.”

Saying this, he prepared to turn down another alley.

But he suddenly realized—he couldn’t move his legs at all. And the young man had appeared beside him, as if teleporting.

Watching the shock in the masked man’s eyes, Li Muxian shook his head, reached into his chest, and pulled out a black cloth-wrapped object:

“A man without trust stands on nothing. One must keep one’s word—do you understand?”

As Li Muxian prepared to unwrap the black cloth and see what inside had caused these martial artists to fight to the death and disturb his moon-viewing,

a red-clad woman burst from the alley’s shadow.

Her face was alluring, her figure slender as a snake’s waist; she shot forward like a shrimp, wrapped in pink mist, her speed reaching its peak—only afterimages remained in the moonlight.

At the same time, an intense floral fragrance filled the air, thick with hypnotic, bewitching energy, sweeping toward Li Muxian.

“Clang!”

A clear blade-song rang out—the red-clad woman’s beautiful face twisted with venomous malice as she appeared behind Li Muxian, her black-glowing blade slicing for his throat.

But Li Muxian didn’t even glance at her, ignored the pink mist, and casually slapped backward.

The red-clad woman hadn’t even registered what happened before an unstoppable force slammed into her, hurling her body straight toward the ground.

The next instant—a loud “thud” shattered the night’s silence.

Half her body crashed into the hard brick street, shattering countless tiles, leaving a pit nearly a foot deep.

Her face, crushed by the impact, was flattened, bloodied, and unrecognizable—no trace of her former beauty remained.

At that moment, Li Muxian calmly unwrapped the black cloth.

Inside lay a bronze token, rusted and ancient, inscribed with three archaic characters:

“Hidden Assassination Order!”

(End of Chapter)