Chapter 12

Li Xian’s face took on a look of recollection: “This assassin’s martial skill was not merely strong—it was an opponent I had never encountered in my entire life.”

Zhao Ti’s expression shifted: “Grand Secretary Li, after suffering such grave injuries, did you manage to capture the assassin?”

“If I had captured her, I would not be in this state. The fault lies entirely in my own negligence at the time—had I been vigilant, how could she have slipped into the camp undetected?” Li Xian sighed deeply.

“Amidst thousands of troops, this assassin wounded Grand Secretary Li—and still escaped?” Zhao Ti was stunned.

“The assassin’s martial skill had reached the realm of transcendence. She came with absolute intent to kill, but she never expected that I, too, practiced martial arts—and not poorly. I survived her attack.”

“Had Grand Secretary Li perished...”

“The Lan and Hui prefectures might be lost, and the entire Xihé Road army under my command would be annihilated!”

“So it is...”

“The assassin struck me three times with her palms. I struck her twice with my needles. Her palm force was venomous; my two 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 Kuihua Manual’s style was spectral and swift, moving invisibly, often without even clashing weapons. Yet this assassin had landed three palm strikes on Li Xian—this was unthinkable.

“Grand Secretary Li, what weapon did the assassin use?”

“Only a frost-chilled treasure sword.”

“A sword?” Zhao Ti frowned. “I heard from Sergeant Zhou that in your prime, your body movement and needle-throwing were famed—swift as snow on duck tracks, fluid as a hundred specters moving by night. How could she withstand your Phantom Step and needle strikes?”

“To my shame...” Li Xian’s face showed faint resentment. “She mastered a unique lightness skill—like walking upon waves, floating as if immortal. It matched the Phantom Step of the Kuihua Manual, and even surpassed it.”

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

“That was her reason for daring to infiltrate the camp and assassinate me. But her lightness alone could not have wounded me. The key was...”

“What was it?”

“It was...” Li Xian’s face darkened with bitterness. “The assassin cultivated a miraculous martial art—formless, traceless—that could mimic my Crimson Thread Needle technique!”

“What?” Zhao Ti exclaimed.

“She copied it perfectly. Though she wielded a sword, her movements were identical to mine—if she weren’t a woman, I’d suspect she’d trained in the Kuihua Manual herself...” Li Xian’s eyes grew distant.

“The assassin is a woman?”

“Yes. She wore only a light veil over her face; the rest was unobscured. Her figure was graceful and unmistakable.”

Zhao Ti’s expression darkened and brightened in turns.

“Precisely because she suddenly mimicked my Kuihua Manual techniques, my spirit was shaken—I left a gap. She exploited it with blinding speed, struck me three times with her palms. I countered with two needles, but missed vital points. In desperation, I resolved to die for the state—I shouted for all crossbowmen to fire without regard for me. Only then did she retreat and flee the camp. Perhaps... perhaps she believed those three palm strikes would surely kill me.”

Zhao Ti looked at Li Xian: “Grand Secretary Li, you don’t recognize this woman’s martial art?”

Li Xian said: “I have no idea. I spent my youth in the palace, my later years in the military. My exposure to the martial world was minimal. Her mimicry of the Kuihua Manual was extraordinary. After reflection, I believe it was driven by a special internal force—once she memorized the techniques, she could replicate them. Externally, it was indistinguishable. She could likely fake most martial arts in the world.”

Xiao Wu Xiang Gong—definitely Xiao Wu Xiang Gong! Outside of Xiao Wu Xiang Gong, no other art could do this. Zhao Ti raised his eyebrows.

Xiao Wu Xiang Gong was immensely powerful, formless and traceless. Whoever possessed it could mimic any other martial art upon learning its movements. Those who hadn’t studied the original art could not tell the difference.

And what lightness skill was this—floating like walking on waves, immortal-like, matching and even surpassing the Phantom Step of the Kuihua Manual? Could it be Lingbo Microstep?

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

“Grand Secretary Li, when she struck you with her palms, what was unusual about them?”

“Her palm force was not only cruel, but miraculous—it could strike through empty air, like a white rainbow piercing the sun, bending and twisting unpredictably, flashing with white light. It seemed to strike head-on, yet the force moved without direction! Since being struck, I’ve tried every method to heal it—only barely kept alive.”

White Rainbow Palm Force—this was White Rainbow Palm Force! The woman’s name now leapt into Zhao Ti’s mind.

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

Li Qiushui was her Han name; her birth name was Mo Cang Qiushui, from the Mo Cang clan of the Tufan Six Valley tribe.

After leaving Wuliang Mountain, she wandered for years, then returned to the Xiaoyao Sect and married Emperor Li Yuanhao of Western Xia, bearing him 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 stand idle. Perhaps the true mastermind behind the war was not the Liang Empress Dowager of Western Xia—but this Mo Cang 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 acted with great foresight.”

Li Xian said: “Later, the late Emperor stood alone in court to protect me—but the ministers 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 him soon...”

Zhao Ti fell silent, staring at Li Xian’s withered form: “Grand Secretary Li, 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, seeing Li Xian’s condition, rushed over to support him and fed him a pill. His spirit improved slightly.

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

Zhao Ti said: “Grand Secretary Li, rest well. I won’t disturb you further. I’ll visit again soon.”

“Dao Fu, see His Majesty out...” Li Xian bowed from his bed.

“No need.” Zhao Ti said. “Dao Fu, attend to Grand Secretary Li. Don’t leave the house.”

He left with his retinue. Inside the room, Tong Guan looked down at Li Xian and whispered: “Father?”

Li Xian stroked the bound volume of the Kuihua Manual and sighed: “Since you’ve seen it today, I’ll pass it to you.”

Tong Guan rejoiced, rushing to the bedside to kowtow. Li Xian added: “If Prince Yan ever seeks this manual from you, you must never give it to him. I see he truly loves martial arts—if he truly castrates himself to train it, your death a hundred times over would not atone for this sin!”

Tong Guan kowtowed repeatedly: “I understand, Father! I understand!”

Zhao Ti returned to his carriage, having memorized all thirty thousand characters of the Kuihua Manual. Since his arrival, he possessed the gift of perfect recall—anything he saw once, he never forgot; anything he heard once, he never lost.

The sky was dark now. The carriage arrived before the Yan Prince’s mansion. Large red lanterns hung high, illuminating the courtyard as bright as day.

Beneath the lanterns lay a dozen men sprawled haphazardly—guards and servants alike—all bruised, bloody, and moaning.

Bai Zhan was startled, leapt from the carriage, and rushed forward: “What happened? Who did this to you?”