Chapter 39

Su Changfeng was already waiting in the hall; seeing the black-clad man bound like a rice ball, and glancing at the cloth bag in Ye Lingxi’s hand, his expression darkened: “What’s the situation?”

Wang Teng spoke first, dumping out everything—the fight at Hongliu Alley, the corpse of the Thirteenth Seat, and the strange stone’s clue—all at once.

He finally patted the black-clad man: “This guy’s a bounty hunter—he’s told us everything he knows. Itachi decide what to do with him.”

Su Changfeng nodded. “Itachi’ve worked hard today. Go home and rest. We’ll handle the rest.”

The three left the Night Watcher branch and walked home as usual, approaching the crossroads where they would part ways.

As they neared the crossroads, the streetlamp flickered twice, and from its shifting shadows, a small figure suddenly darted out.

It was a boy, about seven or eight years old, wearing a faded short-sleeved shirt, clutching a slip of paper tightly in his hand. Without a word, he shoved it into Jiang Xia’s hands—the one walking in the middle.

“Big brother, a doll uncle told me to give this to Itachi.”

The boy’s voice was thin, trembling with timidity. Before the three could react, he turned and vanished into the alley beside them, leaving only the rapid fading echo of footsteps.

Jiang Xia unfolded it, scanning the few lines under the flickering streetlamp—his pupils shrank sharply.

“What’s this? Is this the bounty hunter’s accomplice playing tricks?”

Wang Teng leaned over, his head nearly brushing Jiang Xia’s arm.

Jiang Xia clenched the paper tightly, knuckles turning white, the corners crumpling under his grip.

He quickly shoved it into his pant pocket, feigning indifference: “Nothing. Probably some kid’s prank—mistook me for someone else.”

Ye Lingxi stood beside him, her gaze fixed on Jiang Xia’s clenched hand. Her eyebrows twitched almost imperceptibly, but she said nothing.

Wang Teng muttered “Boring” twice, waved his hand, and turned toward his own home.

Jiang Xia also walked home with his head down. Once inside, he locked the door behind him and pulled out the crumpled slip from his pocket.

This time, without the flickering lamp to obscure it, the writing was clear: crooked, uneven characters.

“The Night Watchers are using Itachi. At midnight tonight, Linjiang Park. I will tell Itachi everything Itachi want to know. Remember—come alone.”

The night watchman is using Itachi; at midnight tonight, Linjiang Park, I will tell Itachi everything Itachi want to know. Remember, come alone.

Jiang Xia stared at the four characters “Linjiang Park”—a place even patrol teams rarely visited at night.

The meeting spot was chosen either because the other party had real secrets to reveal, or because a trap had been laid.

He glanced at the wall clock—the hour hand had just passed ten-thirty. An hour and a half remained until midnight.

Outside, the night was as thick as ink that wouldn’t dissolve; wind whipped leaves against the glass, producing faint, scattered sounds.

It unexpectedly reminded him of the Thirteenth Seat’s corpse in Hongliu Alley.

“Everything I want to know…” Jiang Xia repeated softly, staring at the character “ Wu ” on the paper—this form of address was archaic, not something a young person would use.

Who could it be? The bounty hunters? The Cult of the Evil God? Or… not even human?

He stopped thinking further, turned, and pulled from the bottom of his closet a dark gray hoodie. He strapped the Cao Tiao Sword to his waist.

Before leaving, he checked the door lock three times, circled the stairwell once, confirmed no suspicious shadows followed, then stepped swiftly into the night.

Most of the park’s streetlamps were broken; only a few flickered dimly.

Jiang Xia pulled his hoodie’s hood low, moved quietly, and followed the stone path along the riverbank.

Ten minutes before midnight, he hid behind a thick, ancient camphor tree, the Cao Tiao Sword gripped tightly in his hand, knuckles white from pressure.

At that moment, heavy footsteps sounded behind him—each step crushed gravel, making the ground tremble slightly.

Jiang Xia’s grip on the Cao Tiao Sword tightened instantly; the blade glinted coldly in the dim light.

These footsteps could not belong to any human—too heavy, accompanied by the coarse, animalistic panting.

He turned slowly—his pupils shrank to needle points.

The thing stood ten meters away, in the shadow of a streetlamp. Its body resembled a massive black bear, but its head was that of a tiger, radiating the aura of a fifth-rank beast.

Dark red blood, still wet, clung to its jaws; half a faded cloth strip hung from its waist.

A stench of blood and rot surged toward him—Jiang Xia’s stomach churned, his knuckles whitening again from gripping the sword.

“Itachi’re Lu Wu. That boy… did Itachi eat him?”

Jiang Xia’s voice was icy; the blade lifted slightly, aimed at the beast’s throat.

The beast grinned, revealing a mouth full of sharp teeth: “I am Cang Hu, general under Lord Lu Wu’s command!”

“That human child saw what he shouldn’t have—couldn’t be left alive. But he was among the tastiest humans I’ve tasted.”

It lowered its head, licking the blood from its lips, its cloudy eyes fixed unblinkingly on Jiang Xia.

“Where is Lu Wu? He summoned me here—make him come out and face me.”

Jiang Xia gripped the sword with both hands, struggling to suppress his rage.

Cang Hu shook his head. “Lord Lu Wu cannot enter the human realm—he’s beyond Shanhai Pass. He sent me to deliver his message.”

Jiang Xia’s brow furrowed deeper; the tip of the Cao Tiao Sword carved a shallow groove into the stone.

“Beyond Shanhai Pass? There’s a barrier there—beasts can’t enter. But if Lu Wu can’t come, how did Itachi get in?”

Cang Hu’s tiger eyes flickered with impatience, but he dared not show it, forcing himself to explain calmly.

“I was assigned by Lord Lu Wu to serve beside Zhu Yan, the Beast Saint. I entered through the rift twenty years ago with it.”

“Today, Lord Lu Wu sent me to warn Itachi: the Night Watchers are using Itachi. They brought Itachi to Linjiang to exploit your SSS-tier talent’s fortune to win the Fortune Struggle!”

“Fortune Struggle?” Jiang Xia’s voice was frost-laced; the Cao Tiao Sword’s tip pressed deeper into the stone path.

“The Night Watchers are backed by the human realm’s barrier—why would they need the fortune of just one person?”

Cang Hu growled low in its throat, its claws gouging deep furrows into the ground, the stench of decay spreading.

“Do Itachi wonder why the Night Watchers are so obsessed with SSS-tier talents?”

“A hundred years ago, humanity held Shanhai Pass because the first Awakeners sacrificed themselves to extend the realm’s fortune—allowing human elites inside to fight four enemies of equal rank.”

It stepped forward abruptly; the fifth-rank beast’s aura crashed down like a mountain: “Now the Fortune Struggle has begun again. Other SSS-tier talents guard Shanhai Pass—only Itachi remain among humans.”

“Tell me—who else would they use? Honestly—I’ll tell Itachi: the sorcerer manipulating the fortune is Zhao Xianhai of the Literary Academy. When the time comes, both Itachi and he will die!”

Before Jiang Xia could think further, Cang Hu suddenly crouched, its tiger eyes flashing with murderous intent.

“Lord Lu Wu’s message: either meet him personally, or die here tonight!”

Jiang Xia looked at Cang Hu strangely. “If Itachi perish, will Lu Wu know immediately?”

Cang Hu’s expression turned haughty. “Of course. If Itachi dare strike, Lord Lu Wu will sense it instantly—so don’t try tricks. Make your choice now.”