Chapter 859

The note of the bone flute echoed in the night sky for three breaths before dissipating.

Of those assassins who had been shot and fallen to the ground in the courtyard, three who had already stopped moving began to convulse violently the moment this note sounded.

Their eyeballs turned into a creepy blood-red behind their masks, the bloodshot veins on the whites of their eyes expanding and spreading in a very short time, staining the entire eyeball deep red.

The veins on their necks bulged one by one, thick enough to be seen from the edge of their masks.

The muscles on their arms expanded beneath their night-traveling clothes, stretching the cuffs tight, the seams producing a faint, snapping sound.

An assassin with two crossbow arrows in his chest climbed up from the ground.

His movement was not the movement of a normal person rising; his entire spine bent backward into an impossible arc, ejecting from the ground.

The arrow shafts of those two crossbow arrows in his chest touched the ground when he rose, the arrow shafts snapping, the broken ends still stuck in the flesh, fresh blood surging from the wounds, but he didn't even frown.

The second assassin, whose knee had been pierced by an arrow, also stood up, the leg that had been crippled producing a clear sound of bone shattering when he rose, fragments of the kneecap squeezing out from the arrow hole, but he didn't even look, standing on the blue bricks with one leg, the curved saber in his hand gripped so hard the hilt deformed.

The third assassin, whose shoulder had been pierced, pulled the crossbow arrow along with a piece of broken flesh from his shoulder blade, blood spraying half his body, he threw the crossbow arrow to the ground and switched the curved saber to his other hand.

The throats of the three men emitted the same sound, a sound that didn't seem like something a human could make, low and garbled, carrying a resonance that made one's spine crawl with goosebumps.

Several of the heavy infantry surrounding the outer circle gripped the hilts of their long sabers, the sweat on their knuckles soaking the cowhide ropes binding the hilts.

The leading centurion's voice lowered by two points.

"What kind of evil art is this?"

In the study, Chen Yan withdrew his fingers from the hilt, resting them on the edge of the shattered window wood, his gaze passing through the shattered window lattice to look at the three blood-bathed assassins in the courtyard who felt no pain.

Hongye's voice came from behind him, steady but carrying half a point more solemnity than before.

"Western Region Berserker Art; subordinate spent half a year in Shule and saw it once. They chew the venom glands of the Tianshan snow toad plus a red mineral powder; after absorption, all pain and fear disappear, and their strength surges by thirty percent, but it cannot last long, at most the time of a stick of incense, after which the meridians shatter and the bones break, leading to certain death."

Chen Yan's fingers drew a line on the shattered wood.

"A stick of incense?"

Hongye's voice flattened by half.

"The sound waves of the bone flute can activate the poison powder they have pre-hidden in their oral mucosa, no chewing required, effective the moment it is blown, extremely fast."

Chen Yan's mouth curled.

"Which means they are going to die themselves, just wanting to drag a few people down with them."

Hongye's short sword flipped a flower in her hand.

"Subordinate will go clean them up."

Chen Yan pointed toward the three blood-red-eyed assassins in the courtyard.

"Be careful of the poison on their curved sabers, don't get any on you."

Hongye's silhouette swept out from the shattered window lattice, her moon-white sleeves dragging an arc in the firelight.

In the courtyard, the three berserk assassins moved simultaneously the moment Hongye landed.

The first person's curved saber slashed over from the left, the speed a full thirty percent faster than before the berserker state, the blade edge carrying a force that made the air hum.

Hongye's footsteps shifted two inches to the right, the curved saber slashing past half a foot in front of her left shoulder, the blade wind tearing a corner of her moon-white sleeve.

Her short sword did not meet the blade edge, but passed beneath the curved saber, the sword tip picking at the inner side of that person's wrist, precisely cutting the radial artery.

Blood sprayed out, but that person's hand did not loosen.

His fingers gripped the hilt of the curved saber even tighter, the blade slashing back, cutting toward Hongye's lower back.

Hongye's figure had already retreated from his attack range before the slash arrived, the tips of her boots tapping on the blue bricks, the entire person sliding back three feet.

The second person's curved saber arrived from behind her.

The assassin standing on one leg concentrated all his strength on that one leg, the entire body exploding with a kicking force that shattered a blue brick the moment he jumped, the curved saber drawing an extremely long and fast arc in the air, cutting toward Hongye's back of the neck.

Hongye did not look back, her ears capturing the direction and force of the wind a breath before the saber slashed down.

The short sword flipped half a circle behind her, the sword body resting at the position of the back of her neck, the curved saber slashing onto the spine of the short sword, the sound of metal colliding exploding in the courtyard.

The force was extremely great, Hongye's body staggering forward one step under the impact, her boot soles drawing two marks on the blue bricks.

Her voice squeezed through her teeth, steady but tightened by half.

"The strength has indeed surged quite a bit."

The third person's curved saber arrived simultaneously, sweeping horizontally from her right side, three blades from three directions, sealing off all her retreat paths.

Hongye's body suddenly sank two inches amidst the encirclement of the three blades, her entire center of gravity dropping to a degree that made the heavy infantry nearby feel it was inconceivable, the three curved sabers slashing across half an inch above her head, the blade wind blowing a strand of her hair loose.

Her short sword picked a sword upward while she sank.

The sword tip passed beneath the third person's crotch, slashing across the artery on the inner side of his thigh, blood surging out.

Then her body ejected, the short sword drawing an arc precise to the extreme in the air, cutting horizontally across the second person's broken knee.

That leg, which had only been supported by a bone fragment, was completely severed under the cutting of the sword edge, the upper half remaining in place, the lower half connected to the boot falling onto the blue bricks.

The second person's body lost its support, falling to one side.

As he fell, his curved saber was still swinging toward Hongye's direction, the blade edge drawing a final dark green arc in the air.

Hongye's footsteps retreated one step, the curved saber slashing past half an inch in front of her.

The first person's curved saber arrived again.

Although his wrist had been severed of its artery and fresh blood was continuously surging from the wound, his fingers still gripped the hilt tightly, the slashing speed of the curved saber not decreasing in the slightest.

Hongye's short sword turned a flower that dazzled the eyes in her hand, the sword body passing through the gap between the blade edge and the hilt of the curved saber, precisely cutting into the four fingers of that person holding the saber.

Four fingers fell from his palm, the curved saber finally falling from his hand, smashing onto the blue bricks, producing a muffled metallic clashing sound.

He lost his saber, but his body did not stop.

He opened his mouth, his teeth biting toward Hongye's direction.

Hongye's short sword arrived before his mouth closed, the sword tip piercing in from his open mouth and out from the back of his head.

His body stiffened the moment the sword tip pierced through, the final bit of light in his blood-red eyeballs extinguished, the entire person sliding down the sword body by two inches and kneeling on the blue bricks.

Hongye pulled out the short sword.

The third person dragged his bleeding leg and lunged toward her, the sound emitted from his mouth no longer human language, closer to the final roar of an injured wild beast.

Hongye did not use her sword.

Her left foot kicked on the blue bricks, the entire person retreating half a step, her right foot lifting while retreating, the boot sole stepping on that person's face, the force kicking his body over onto the ground.

The short sword stabbed down once, the sword tip sinking into his left chest, cutting the large blood vessel above the heart.

The three berserk assassins were solved by Hongye alone within half a stick of incense, three corpses that no longer moved and a large patch of dark red blood stains spreading on the blue bricks of the courtyard.

Hongye wiped the short sword twice on the night-traveling clothes of one of the assassins, wiping away most of the blood stains, and turned to look at the direction of the study.

Poison Scorpion was still there.

He was pressed against the corner of the outer wall of the study, the two daggers in his hands gripped until his knuckles turned white, his eyeballs rolling seven or eight times behind his mask, the cold sweat on his back soaking through his night-traveling clothes.

He had seen the entire process of Hongye solving the three berserk assassins.

His Adam's apple rolled up and down twice.

Of the thirty-six people, he was the last one still standing.

Poison Scorpion's teeth bit once beneath his mask that he could hear clearly himself, the dagger in his right hand flipping a flower in his hand, his left hand reaching toward the position of his back molar.

A special poison sac was embedded in his back molar, which would stop his heart within three breaths once bitten and swallowed, allowing him to die cleanly without leaving any testimony.

Who his employer was, what he had done, all would be taken into the grave.

His left hand reached his mouth.

A blue porcelain tea lid flew out from the shattered window lattice of the study.

The tea lid rotated in the air, the edge drawing an extremely fast arc in the firelight, carrying a breaking-air force that made the air hum.

Poison Scorpion's eyeballs caught that arc the moment the tea lid flew over, but his hand had already reached his mouth, too late to block it.

The tea lid precisely smashed into his left cheek.

The force was not great.

But the angle was extremely tricky, the edge of the tea lid hitting exactly the joint between the mandible and the zygomatic bone, which was the most fragile connection point of the entire facial bone structure.

Crack.

The joint of the mandible was dislocated under the impact of the tea lid, the entire chin shifting to the left by an inch, the mouth forcibly pried open, the poison sac in the back molar sliding out from between the teeth, spraying out along with a mouthful of fresh blood and broken teeth.

Poison Scorpion's scream spilled from his deformed mouth, the sound off-key, garbled and unclear.

His body smashed backward against the wall, the back of his head hitting the blue brick wall with a muffled sound.

Hongye's silhouette arrived the moment the back of his head hit the wall.

Her boot sole stepped on the back of his right hand, the two daggers falling from his hand, the tip of the steel short sword pressing against his throat, the blade edge only the thickness of a piece of paper from his skin.

Poison Scorpion's body slid down two inches against the wall, the entire person slumping on the ground, his deformed chin hanging, blood and saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth.

His eyeballs looked through the gaps in the mask at the study window, seeing the young man who had never stood up from the Grand Master's chair withdrawing his hand from his sleeve.

He was the one who threw the tea lid.

Sitting in the chair, across the shattered window lattice, in the night illuminated by flickering firelight, he had precisely hit the joint of his mandible.

Poison Scorpion's pupils were filled with a pure despair the moment this realization landed.

Chen Yan stood up from the Grand Master's chair, striding across the wood fragments and corpses on the study floor, flipping out from the window, his boot soles stepping on the blue bricks of the courtyard.

He walked to Poison Scorpion, looking down at this slumped figure against the wall, his chin dislocated, his mouth full of blood foam.

Hongye's short sword was still pressing against Poison Scorpion's throat, the tip pressing down by half a point.

Chen Yan's boot tip extended forward by two inches, stepping on Poison Scorpion's shattered chin, the force not heavy, but Poison Scorpion's entire face twisted into a mass that was unbearable to look at under this force.

"Qian Wansan sent you to die, didn't you ever think of dragging him down with you?"

Poison Scorpion's voice squeezed from his deformed mouth, garbled to the point of being nearly unintelligible, every word carrying blood foam and fragments of broken teeth.

"You... you knew long ago..."

Chen Yan's boot tip moved away from his chin, his voice light enough to make one's spine feel cold.

"This Duke not only knew you were coming, but also when you were coming, from which direction you were coming, how many routes you were coming in, and how many blades you brought."

He squatted down, his fingers tugging at the collar of the night-traveling clothes on Poison Scorpion's chest, pulling out the bone necklace wrapped with the totem of the assassination guild.

"Shule assassination guild, codename Poison Scorpion, one hundred and forty-seven lives on your hands, including the kings of two small Western Region countries and a chiliarch of the Rouran Royal Court."

Poison Scorpion's blood-red eyeballs widened to the limit behind his mask.

Chen Yan weighed the bone necklace twice in his hand and threw it on the ground.

"This Duke's Mingjing Si figured out the secret contact line between the Yinzhou Chamber of Commerce and your guild half a year ago; Qian Wansan spent two hundred thousand taels of gold to buy thirty-six of you, the token being an iron plaque with a wolf head, stored in a black lacquered wooden box in a secret compartment of his underground vault."

His voice was precise to the point of making Poison Scorpion feel as if the bottom of his life had been stripped clean.

"Tell me, what else does this Duke not know?"

Poison Scorpion's body shrank by two inches against the wall, the cold sharpness of the assassin in his blood-red eyeballs finally shattering, shattering into a mixture of pure fear and despair.

His voice squeezed from his deformed mouth, every word carrying a thick bloody smell and a tremor of having his beliefs completely shattered.

"Kill... kill me..."

Chen Yan's mouth curled.

"Killing you is too cheap."

He stood up and turned to look at Hongye.

"Reset his chin, don't let him be unable to speak."

Hongye withdrew the short sword into the scabbard, squatted down, hooked both hands onto the two ends of Poison Scorpion's dislocated mandible, her fingers finding the locking position of the joint.

Crack.

The mandible was forcibly reset, Poison Scorpion's mouth finally closing, but the pain made his entire face twist into a mass of crumpled rag, cold sweat seeping out from the edge of his mask.

Chen Yan turned around and signaled toward the heavy infantry holding formation outside the courtyard.

"Clean up the corpses of all thirty-six people and this living one, burn the corpses after inspecting the poison components on the blades, escort the living one to the dungeon, this Duke will interrogate him personally tomorrow."

The centurion hammered a fist against his chest armor.

"Subordinate obeys!"

Chen Yan strode back toward the study, his boot soles stepping across the blood stains and wood fragments in the courtyard, stepping past those corpses lying helter-skelter.

He stopped for a step when he reached the study entrance, looking back at the mess in the courtyard.

Gao Jiong walked out from the shadows in the corner of the courtyard, his voice pressed to a level only two people could hear.

"Pillar of State, all thirty-six solved, Beiwei death guards lightly wounded three, none killed in action."

Chen Yan's fingers tapped lightly on the hilt of the horizontal blade.

"Gao Jiong, after Poison Scorpion's mouth is pried open, this Duke wants a name."

Gao Jiong's brow jumped.

"What name?"

Chen Yan's voice lowered by two points.

"These thirty-six people came from the Western Regions, the Yinzhou city gate inspection is strict, how did they get in? Thirty-six assassins carrying poisoned blades couldn't have climbed the city wall, let alone walked in through the front gate; someone opened the door for them."

Gao Jiong's voice turned cold by half.

"Does the Pillar of State mean someone inside Yinzhou City is coordinating?"

Chen Yan withdrew his gaze from the courtyard, falling on Gao Jiong's face.

"Not just coordinating; to be able to open a passage for thirty-six assassins during the period of tightest city gate defense, this person's power in Yinzhou City won't be small."

Gao Jiong's fingers clenched into a fist in his sleeves, his finger bones producing a faint cracking sound.

"Subordinate understands, the Mingjing Si will investigate tonight."

Chen Yan pointed toward the direction of the dungeon.

"No need to investigate, pry it directly from Poison Scorpion's mouth."

His voice on the last sentence was cold to a temperature that made even Gao Jiong feel a chill run up his spine.

"If the name pried out is the person this Duke guesses, the sky of Yinzhou will collapse tomorrow."

Gao Jiong's Adam's apple rolled.

"Who does the Pillar of State guess?"

Chen Yan did not answer this question; he turned and walked into the study, sitting down in front of the chessboard splashed with half-blood, his fingers picking up a black piece from the chess container and placing it on the chessboard.

Several of the black and white pieces on the chessboard were stained with blood, the black pieces stained with dark red blood scabs, the white pieces splashed with a few points of fiber from flesh.

His voice drifted from above the chessboard, light enough that only the remaining candle flame in the study could hear.

Gao Jiong stood at the study entrance, his fingers clenching until his finger bones turned white, turning and striding toward the direction of the dungeon, his footsteps three times as urgent as when he arrived.

The study fell silent.

Hongye straightened the overturned low stool, picking up the scattered white pieces from the ground and putting them back into the chess container one by one.

Her movements were unhurried, her moon-white sleeves stained with a few points of blood, shimmering with a dark luster in the candlelight.

When she put the last white piece back into the chess container, her voice slid from her throat.

"Pillar of State, your left sleeve is torn."

Chen Yan looked down; the cuff of his left sleeve had been torn by the blade wind of a curved saber, revealing the arm inside, the skin completely intact.

His voice carried a hint of something indescribable.

"Just change into another one."

Hongye's fingers paused on the lid of the chess container.

"Next time, Pillar of State, don't throw the tea lid yourself; subordinate's sword is fast enough."

Chen Yan's mouth curled.

"Your sword is fast enough, but this Duke wanted to try the feel of throwing that tea lid."

Hongye's eyelids lifted by half, her voice carrying a hint of extremely faint helplessness.

"Pillar of State has finished trying the feel, that tea lid was official kiln ware subordinate brought back from Yuezhou last month, a set of twelve."

Chen Yan's fingers paused on the chessboard.

Hongye closed the lid of the chess container, her voice flat.

"One shattered, eleven remain."

Outside the study, the sound of Gao Jiong's armor plates colliding came from the direction of the dungeon, one step more urgent than the last, one step heavier than the last.

The night wind poured in from the shattered window lattice, blowing the blood-stained pieces on the chessboard, but they did not roll off.

Chen Yan withdrew his fingers from the chessboard, resting them on the edge of the armrest, his gaze passing through the gaps in the window lattice, falling on the night sky outside the courtyard illuminated by firelight.

If the name pried from Poison Scorpion's mouth really was this person, then the net Qian Wansan had woven in Yinzhou was three points deeper than the intelligence he had previously mastered.

A Chamber of Commerce president being able to bribe thirty-six top-tier Western Region assassins to assassinate a Pillar of State, how much courage and how deep a foundation did that require?

Unless behind him, it wasn't just silver.

Unless in this city of Yinzhou, there was a force greater than the Chamber of Commerce supporting his waist in the dark.

Chen Yan's fingers drew an arc on the armrest, his voice lowered to a level only he could hear.

"The water in Yinzhou is deeper than this Duke thought."

In the direction of the dungeon, an iron door was pushed open, the sound of iron rubbing against stone traveling very far in the night wind.

Poison Scorpion's screams drifted vaguely from behind the iron door, the sound intermittent, getting weaker and weaker, getting more and more fragmented.

Gao Jiong's interrogation had begun.