Chapter 12: Assassin in the Army

Li Xian's face took on a look of recollection: "This assassin's Wu Gong wasn't merely strong—it was an opponent I'd never encountered in my entire life."

Zhao Ti's expression shifted: "Li Xianggong, after suffering such grievous injuries, did you manage to capture the assassin?"

"If I had captured her, I wouldn't be in this state now. The reason? My own negligence at the time. Otherwise, how could the assassin have slipped into camp without notice?" Li Xian sighed deeply.

"Amidst thousands of troops, that assassin wounded Li Xianggong—and still escaped?" Zhao Ti was astonished.

"That assassin's Wu Gong had reached the realm of transcendence. She came with absolute intent to kill, but she never expected I too could wield martial arts—and not poorly. I survived her attack."

"If Li Xianggong had perished…"

"The Lan and Hui provinces might be lost, and the entire Xihé Road army under my command would be annihilated!"

"So it is…"

"That assassin struck me with three palms; I struck her with two needles. Her palm force was venomous. My needle wounds were negligible compared to her three blows. She barely suffered at all. Then, under cover of night, she used every trick to flee. Had it been daylight, I might have held her—but it was night…"

Zhao Ti felt puzzled. The Sunflower Manual emphasized ghostly speed and invisibility, often avoiding direct weapon contact. Yet this assassin had landed three palms on Li Xian—how was that possible?

"Li Xianggong, what weapon did the assassin use?"

"Only a frost-cold treasure sword."

"A sword?" Zhao Ti frowned. "I heard from Zhou the Guard that in your youth, your body movement and flying needles were famed—swift as snow-mud bird tracks, swift as a hundred specters moving by night. How could she have resisted your Phantom Shadow Steps and flying needles?"

"To be ashamed…" Li Xian's face showed faint resentment. "She specializes in a unique lightness technique—like walking upon waves, floating as if immortal. It rivals even the Phantom Shadow Steps recorded in the Sunflower Manual—and surpasses it."

"Walking upon waves, floating as if immortal?" Zhao Ti was stunned.

"That's why she dared infiltrate the camp to assassinate me. But even with such footwork, she might not have wounded me—unless…"

"Unless what?"

"It was…" Li Xian's face darkened with bitterness. "This assassin cultivates a miraculous Wu Gong—formless, traceless. It can mimic my Crimson Thread Flying Needle technique!"

"What?" Zhao Ti exclaimed.

"And she mimics it flawlessly. Though she wields a sword, her movements are identical to mine—if she weren't a woman, I'd suspect she'd trained in the Sunflower Manual herself…" Li Xian's eyes grew distant.

"The assassin is a woman?"

"Yes. She wore only a light veil over her face; elsewhere, no concealment. Her figure was graceful and unmistakable."

Zhao Ti's expression darkened and brightened in turns.

"Precisely because she suddenly mimicked my Sunflower Manual martial arts, my spirit was shaken—I left an opening. She exploited it with blinding speed, landing three palms on me. I retaliated with two needles, but missed vital points. In desperation, I chose to die for the state—I shouted for all crossbowmen to fire at once, regardless of me. Only then did she retreat and flee the camp. Perhaps… perhaps she believed those three palms would surely kill me."

Zhao Ti looked at Li Xian: "Li Xianggong, you don't recognize this woman's Wu Gong?"

Li Xian said: "I don't know it. My first half-life was in the palace; my second, on the battlefield. I barely wandered the Jianghu. My knowledge is limited. Her mimicry of the Sunflower Manual is extraordinary. Later, I realized—it must be driven by a special internal force. Once she memorizes the moves, she can replicate them. Externally, it's indistinguishable. She could likely fake most martial arts in the world."

Xiao Wuxiang Gong—definitely Xiao Wuxiang Gong! Outside Xiao Wuxiang Gong, no such technique exists in the world. Zhao Ti raised an eyebrow.

Xiao Wuxiang Gong is immensely powerful. Its hallmark is formlessness and tracelessness. Whoever possesses it, once they know another's martial techniques, can imitate them perfectly. Those who haven't learned the original technique cannot tell the difference.

And as for that lightness technique—like walking upon waves, floating as if immortal, rivaling and even surpassing the Phantom Shadow Steps of the Sunflower Manual—what could it be? Could it be Lingbo Weibu?

Zhao Ti's mind raced. If so, the assassin's identity was no longer hard to guess!

"Li Xianggong, when she finally struck you with palms, what was peculiar about them?"

"Those palms were not only cruel, but also miraculous. They could strike through empty air, like a white rainbow piercing the sun—curving, straightening, unpredictable. White rainbow light flickered. It seemed to strike frontally, yet the force moved without direction! Since I was struck, I've tried every method to heal—only barely kept alive."

Bai Hong palm force—this was Bai Hong palm force! The woman's name leapt into Zhao Ti's mind.

Li Qiushui—the assassin who struck Li Xian was Li Qiushui!

Li Qiushui was her Han name; she was born into the Mocang clan of the Tufan Six Valley tribe, her original name Mocang Qiushui.

After leaving Wuliang Mountain, she wandered for years, then returned to the Xiaoyao Sect and married Emperor Li Yuanhao of Western Xia, bearing a son—Emperor Yizong of Western Xia, Li Liangzuo.

She was the Grand Empress Dowager of Western Xia. When the Great Song launched its five-pronged invasion, she could not remain idle. Perhaps the true mastermind behind the war was not the Liang Empress Dowager of Western Xia—but this Mocang Grand Empress Dowager.

Li Xian continued: "After the five armies were defeated, I was gravely wounded and carried back to Dongjing. I went to court to explain to the late Emperor. He listened in silence for a long time, then ordered me to seal my lips—never speak of it again. I understood: who would believe such a tale? It would only add more charges against me."

Zhao Ti nodded: "The late Emperor had deep intentions."

Li Xian said: "Later, the late Emperor stood alone in court to protect me—but the courtiers grew to hate me even more. When he died young, I gradually fell into my current state. I've clung to life long enough. I only wish to join the late Emperor soon…"

Zhao Ti fell silent, staring at Li Xian's withered form: "Li Xianggong, don't speak like that. Rest and recover."

"I know my own condition. Your Majesty's kindness is appreciated, but no more comfort is needed." Li Xian fell silent.

Zhao Ti watched the deathly aura clinging to Li Xian's face, sighed softly, rose, and called for those outside to enter.

Tong Guan saw Li Xian's condition and rushed to support him, then fed him a pill. His spirit slightly improved.

Zhao Ti nodded to Bai Zhan. Bai Zhan took a sandalwood box from his pack and brought it to the bedside. Inside lay a full box of gold leaves.

Zhao Ti said: "Li Xianggong, rest well. I won't disturb you further. I'll visit again another day."

"Dao Fu, see His Majesty out…" Li Xian bowed from his bed.

"No need." Zhao Ti said. "Dao Fu, attend Li Xianggong well. Don't leave the house."

He departed with his retinue. Inside the room, Tong Guan looked at Li Xian and whispered: "Dry Father?"

Li Xian stroked the bound volume of the Sunflower Manual and sighed: "Since you've seen it today, I'll pass it to you."

Tong Guan rejoiced, immediately rushing to the bedside to kowtow. Li Xian added: "If Prince Yan ever seeks this book from you, you must not give it to him. I see Prince Yan truly loves martial arts—if he truly castrates himself to train this book, your death a hundred times over won't atone for this crime!"

Tong Guan kowtowed repeatedly: "I understand, I understand!"

Zhao Ti returned to his carriage. He had memorized all thirty thousand characters of the Sunflower Manual. Since his arrival, he possessed the gift of perfect memory—once he saw something, he never forgot it; once he heard it, he never lost it.

The sky was dark now. The carriage arrived before the Yan Wang Fu. Large red lanterns hung high, illuminating the courtyard as bright as day.

Beneath the lanterns lay over a dozen men—guards and servants alike—each bruised, swollen, bleeding, moaning in pain.

Bai Zhan was startled. He leapt from the carriage and rushed forward: "What happened? Who did this to you?"