Chapter 339: Jianghu Night Rain, Half for the People (Combined)

Less than half a day's journey from Yuetangjiang.

A tavern hastily built of straw and stone walls.

Standing alone in the rain and wind.

"Boom—"

Thunderclaps rose and fell within the clouds.

Lightning flashed, illuminating everything in an instant!

More than twenty black-clad knife-wielders had silently gathered around the tavern; rain poured down the brims of their conical hats, yet not a trace of the chilling aura radiating from them diminished.

Like spectral emissaries of death.

Inside the tavern!

The two inner stone rooms at the back were tightly shut, their only opening a narrow crack in the door, through which a pair of eyes peered out.

On the old man's face, the tension caused by the unknown threat gradually eased, replaced by an indescribable calm and composure.

Xiao'er, somewhat frightened, kept several steps away from the old man; she crept cautiously to the window of the stone room, her fingers lightly scraping the window frame as she watched the sudden change outside.

Senluo Palace!

The third-ranked assassin organization in the Jianghu.

Its strength ranks just below the Seven Buddha Temple and the Ghost Village.

As long as someone offers a high bounty, whether it be the emperor himself or a common street dweller, none can escape its grasp.

Senluo Palace's rules are strict: each contract is executed only once; if the target is not eliminated, half the payment is returned and all debts are settled.

Its assassins are all children carefully selected from infancy, raised over years of brutal trials, with one hundred and ninety recruits per cohort.

Only three survive to adulthood and join Senluo Palace!

Those who survive this slaughterhouse are all heartless, ruthless, top-tier killers.

The current head of Senluo Palace is Ouyang Huangquan, ranked eleventh on the Jianghu list—a Grand Master.

Senluo Palace is infamous for its cold-blooded cruelty; once a target is locked, no mercy is shown—even innocent bystanders cannot escape its blade.

Each time, only the head is kept for identification; the rest are cut into three pieces.

Better to kill the wrong one than let the right one live!

Xiao'er felt a surge of worry, unable to help but fear for the innocent souls caught in this Jianghu conflict within the tavern.

Her gaze flickered to the middle-aged man who had lifted his conical hat, then to the knife-wielders in the rain—she herself had no chance of escape. If she couldn't save herself, how could she save others?

She touched her own ugly face!

Ouyang Huangquan, clad in black, stepped slowly into the tavern with his hands behind his back.

His bearing was composed!

A man whose cultivation had reached the pinnacle of the Jianghu naturally carried the aura of a Grand Master.

No matter how vast or filled with hidden tigers and dragons the Jianghu might be, he stood at its summit; a single stomp could send ripples like boulders into a lake.

Ouyang Huangquan's gaze swept lightly over the woman with the ponytail and the others, carrying scrutiny and an invisible pressure.

Then his eyes wandered among the patrons inside; each felt the crushing weight of the Grand Master's presence, all bracing themselves, tension reaching its peak.

As if facing an enemy of doom.

Ouyang Huangquan gave the seven seated men—the Seven Sons of Zhongnan—an extra glance, his expression thoughtful.

His eyes flicked mockingly to the middle-aged man and the elegant, coldly beautiful woman at the farthest table.

"Hah. Your taste still leaves much to be desired."

"After escaping Senluo Palace, you picked such a short-lived man."

Ouyang Huangquan's voice was low and hoarse, piercingly clear in the tense air.

Only his voice echoed.

Everyone instantly realized: Ouyang Huangquan's true target was these two.

The green-clad woman, her emerald robes accentuating her slender figure in the dim light, rested her ivory fingers lightly on the hilt of her longsword—the hilt slightly elongated for two-handed grip.

A two-handed sword delivers greater power in slash and chop.

Beneath her conical hat, a thin veil concealed her face; yet from the gentle rise and fall of her chest and her steadily calming breath, one sensed her silently steadying herself.

A will to die rather than surrender.

The brocade-clad man's face darkened further.

In this remote tavern, he had merely sought shelter from the rain—never expecting to be caught in such a Jianghu storm. A bitter resentment welled within him; he cursed his ill fortune.

He knew Senluo Palace's ways: once they struck, they left no survivors.

They were doomed!

How could they possibly survive?

Ouyang Huangquan himself was a Grand Master—alone, he could slaughter them all; add to that the twenty-odd black-clad knife-wielders behind him, several of whom were themselves Grand Masters.

Senluo Palace favors knives and hidden weapons!

In contrast, aside from himself and his senior sister, only one elderly Grand Master among the nine women could barely fight; the rest were merely second- or third-tier Jianghu experts—vastly outmatched.

No chance of victory.

After hearing Ouyang Huangquan's words, the beautiful woman's face turned instantly sorrowful, yet she clenched her teeth and said nothing, only gazing deeply at the brocade-clad man beside her.

In her eyes lay both guilt and deep affection; softly, she spoke:

"Feiguang, I've dragged you into this. I shouldn't have hidden it from you—if I'd told you sooner, we might not be in this desperate situation."

Luo Feiguang gripped her hand tightly, his face showing no fear.

He smiled, as if comforting her: "It's fine. It's just death."

"When has Luo Feiguang ever feared life or death? No matter what lies ahead, I will die before you—we are bound by life and death."

Hearing "Luo Feiguang," your mind recalled a certain name.

The woman, moved by his devotion, seemed to melt into sorrow; she wiped away her tears, a tender smile forming on her lips: "You're always so dull in daily life—yet now, at this moment of life and death, you suddenly speak such sweet words."

They did not look like a married couple, yet now they stood close together.

Luo Feiguang's expression changed slightly, a flicker of fluster crossing his face, but he quickly regained composure and said seriously:

"In daily life, I dared not speak such things—I revered you like an elder sister, afraid of offending you. I feared saying the wrong thing and losing your friendship."

"But now, I only wish you to understand my heart."

The woman froze, tears blurring her vision.

Then a gentle smile bloomed on her lips; she shook her head softly, scolding: "You fool—you're always so slow to realize things."

Their conversation went undisturbed; the thunder and rain outside continued.

Yet!

An untimely round of applause shattered the silence.

"Clap, clap, clap."

Ouyang Huangquan stood to the side, clapping lightly, a sly smile on his lips: "This scene, this emotion—I'm truly moved. Shouldn't I give you a little gift to celebrate?"

With that,

he turned his gaze to Luo Feiguang, his tone dripping with mockery: "You may not know, but this seemingly gentle woman—who wouldn't even kill a chicken—"

"Her real name is Xiao Yu. She is the third-generation chief assassin of Senluo Palace. Countless souls lie beneath her blade. Perhaps one day, your own head, without your knowledge, already rests beside your pillow."

Luo Feiguang's expression did not change; he merely smiled and spoke:

"Xiao… Yu."

"So your real name is Xiao Yu. It suits you well."

Ouyang Huangquan felt no shock or hatred on his face—only calm. He frowned:

"Isn't this horrifying? The woman you've lived with for years is a mass murderer."

Luo Feiguang replied firmly: "I know only that she is a kind woman—not a killer."

"In the eight years we've been together, she never harmed a soul. On the contrary, she wept for days when children or the elderly suffered."

Hearing Luo Feiguang's words, Xiao Yu's tears could no longer be held back.

Suddenly, she threw herself into his arms, voice choked:

"Why didn't you tell me your feelings sooner?"

Luo Feiguang sighed softly: "Because I, too, have a past I cannot speak of."

You slowly raised your head, a smile forming on your face—now you knew who this man was!

Luo Feiguang was a Battalion Commander in the Lu Family Army's "Mercury" unit. Once a commoner from the north, he was rescued by the Lu Family Army, moved by their kindness, and joined their ranks—later chosen by "Mercury."

He was one of those planted in the Lu Mansion in the capital of Daqing.

During the Battle of Northern Wind, Luo Feiguang repeatedly infiltrated enemy lines, securing vital intelligence and earning great military merit.

Later, he resigned. "Mercury" never blocked anyone from leaving—he refused gold, jewels, and noble titles in Yan Province, taking only a single copper coin, departing with effortless grace.

The reason for his resignation was never recorded—but now you understand.

A man always meets a woman who moves him—he wishes to settle down.

The timing matches perfectly: exactly eight years.

You had previously read the secret report from Zhongnan Mountain detailing the fates of "Mercury" members who left. Luo Feiguang's entry noted his travels with a mysterious woman, her identity elusive, suspected to be a top assassin of Senluo Palace; the annotation bore a red vermilion note: "But it matters not."

In the Yan Province "Mercury" secret unit, there is a saying: Once a member of Mercury, forever a member of Mercury.

Never betraying Mercury's secrets.

Luo Feiguang rarely wept—but now, two trails of clear tears traced down his face.

A lifetime of only two streams of tears: half for the people, half for the beauty.

Xiao Yu's escape from the Chamber of Souls proved she was no one to stand still and await death.

She had long loved the man who had walked the martial world beside him, but her past was too dark—she feared he could never accept it.

Now she knew Luo Feiguang's heart, and at last had found solace.

Even so!

Even if the heavens and earth closed in, leaving no path to life, she would break through.

Recalling her escape from the Chamber of Souls, Xiao Yu still trembled. Back then, though she had already reached the Master realm, had fortune not favored her, she would have died in the hands of the Grand Boss—and she had taken a blow of Chamber of Souls' true qi, which still festered within her.

The wound lurked like a hidden illness, draining her blood and qi; if not treated soon, her legs would be paralyzed within a few years.

Only a Grand Master of the martial world could heal such chilling true qi.

Yet!

Grand Masters were few in number across the land, most elusive or holding high rank and power—meeting one was exceedingly difficult.

Luo Feiguang's cultivation also revealed the Master realm, yet he too bore grave injuries.

Xiao Yu was deeply startled; they had lived side by side, yet neither had guessed the other hid such deep secrets.

Luo Feiguang felt ashamed and dared not meet Xiao Yu's gaze.

Xiao Yu demanded bitterly, "Who injured you? I'll go kill him."

Luo Feiguang gently clasped Xiao Yu's hand, signaling it was nothing.

The two shared a common hatred!

Xiao Yu's gaze swept over the crowd, her voice resolute:

"I, Xiao Yu, was once an assassin of the Chamber of Souls—I know its rules better than anyone. Once the Chamber of Souls strikes, it leaves no survivors. That is iron law."

"To live, there is only one perilous path."

"Break out!"

Her words were like blades in a freezing wind, sending chills through all present.

Black-cloaked knife-wielders surrounded them; tension reached its peak, while Ouyang Huangquan stood with arms crossed, a faint smile on his lips.

At Xiao Yu's declaration, the four hooded figures showed signs of panic—they were utterly unprepared for the coming battle.

The green-clad woman and the brocade-clad man had anticipated this, yet their faces were grim.

The woman with the ponytail looked frantic; behind her, the old man's face turned ashen—he silently cursed misfortune.

Yet!

Amid the chaos and unease, three tables stood out as utterly different.

Yet in this tense atmosphere, three tables of guests remained remarkably calm.

The Seven Sons of Zhongnan sat in place, chopsticks never set down, still eating and serving themselves, as if all turmoil outside had nothing to do with them.

Lu Yu watched Ouyang Huangquan with keen interest.

Luo Feiguang frowned, his gaze sweeping back and forth over Lu Yu's group, especially this "fake Prince of Yan."

He also felt an inexplicable sense of familiarity, yet could not put it into words.

Xiao Yu gripped her sword; among those present, five were Masters—the rest were negligible.

Five Masters against one Grand Master meant certain death, especially with seven or eight more Masters standing by.

At the brink of life and death!

Luo Feiguang and Xiao Yu no longer cared for their injuries—they forcibly pushed their cultivation to the Master realm, their aura overwhelming.

The green-clad woman and brocade-clad man refused to yield; the old man also unleashed his hidden cultivation.

A total of five Masters.

The old man in the stone hut had a faint glimmer of anticipation in his eyes.

You slowly set down your chopsticks.

A great battle was about to erupt.

Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating every face.

At this moment!

Ouyang Huangquan suddenly spoke, his voice icy: "Today, I execute only traitors. All others may leave."

His gaze lingered, intentionally or not, upon your side.

At these words, the entire hall erupted in shock.

Everyone was stunned!

End of month—uncles, please, I beg you for monthly votes! Thank you, thank you.

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(End of Chapter)