The dagger shot straight for Lu Sheng’s chest, slicing through his clothes like paper. Lu Sheng’s masked face remained unmoved, his gaze locked on Zhang Jundong as if frozen in time.
A cruel grin tugged at the corners of Zhang Jundong’s mouth. “Don’t blame me. You’ve got only yourself to blame for provoking someone you shouldn’t have!”
The blade tore through cloth and cut into skin.
“BANG!!!”
In that instant, Lu Sheng’s body dropped backward. From behind his waist, he drew a long-hilted saber that coiled like a black python.
The saber lashed out with violent precision, colliding with Zhang Jundong’s dagger. Exhausted from its own swing, the dagger barely resisted the sheer speed and power of the counterstrike. It was sent flying high into the air.
Lu Sheng’s saber flipped midair, the blade slicing toward Zhang Jundong’s head in a move called Tiger Kill.
“HOO!”
Zhang Jundong’s pupils shrank as the roar of the blade cut through the air. Every hair on his body rose in alarm. He could not fathom that this young master—protected by three guards—could unleash such terrifying power in a single instant.
‘Such reaction… such speed… not good!’
He barely had time to process. Leaping backward, he skidded seven or eight steps before spinning to flee.
“Shhhk!”
The tip of Lu Sheng’s saber pierced his chest. Blood seeped slowly from the wound.
“Shing!”
Lu Sheng stepped forward, yanked the saber free, and wiped it clean on the corpse’s clothing.
“Come, send me back.”
Calmly, he climbed into the horse carriage and drew the curtains, leaving the three guards at the scene and the two stationed at the door behind.
No one spoke as they stared at the lifeless body on the ground. The three guards, especially, were silent, their faces ashen as they quietly followed him into the carriage.
“Go!”
The coachman flicked the horsewhip. The carriage groaned and slowly rolled forward, the only sound inside the confined space the rhythmic creak of wheels against the road.
The three guards sat across from Lu Sheng for a long moment, the silence pressing down like a weight. One by one, unable to endure it, they exchanged glances and climbed down to walk alongside the moving carriage.
Soon, Lu Sheng was alone.
He sat upright on a round cloth cushion, his face unreadable. His eyes drifted closed slightly, as if to nap. But beneath the stillness, a storm raged within him.
‘I killed someone…’
He had killed a person. In all his past and present lives, he had never even harmed anyone, let alone ended a life. Yet, in that split second, instinct had taken over. Seeing his opponent attempt to flee, Lu Sheng had raised his saber without hesitation.
The refined muscle memory from his modifications executed the move flawlessly. The saber extended smoothly, performing the second strike of Tiger Might—piercing through the man’s heart from behind with unerring precision.
And then… the man was dead.
The scene replayed endlessly in Lu Sheng’s mind. That opponent had not been bluffing. He had truly meant to kill him. Faced with danger, Lu Sheng had acted purely on instinct, and the threat had been extinguished.
But he had revealed his martial skill. And he had killed someone.
‘The good thing is, the Black Tiger Saber Technique is unique. Anyone investigating will trace it back to Uncle Zhao. That’s not too serious… but I have to be careful from now on…’
The carriage rolled on, the road stretching out in the dim night. Half an hour had passed since leaving the village when a new sound drifted through the darkness.
“Ring-ling-ling… ring-ling-ling…”
The clear, crisp tolling of a bell carried on the wind, originating from somewhere outside the shadows.
The coachman glanced over his shoulder. Behind them, a white horse carriage approached with alarming speed, closing the distance quickly. Judging by the pace, they were also bound for Nine Links City.
The three guards spotted the white horse carriage closing in from behind.
Two large, pristine-white horses drew an intricately carved carriage, its surface adorned with delicate silver floral motifs. A faint, sweet fragrance drifted on the wind, carried from within the carriage.
Instinctively, the guards exchanged glances and gripped their broadswords. Earlier, they had failed to fully protect a distinguished guest, nearly letting disaster strike. If they failed again, the Zheng Family would not forgive them.
Their wrists, only lightly injured in the previous scuffle, had healed enough to allow seventy to eighty percent of their strength. Veterans of the army, the three of them could, when coordinated, handle seven or eight ordinary men without difficulty.
There was nothing extraordinary about the white carriage—other than its undeniable luxury. That alone would not have caused alarm.
What unsettled them, however, was that the lanterns guiding the carriage were unlit.
In the wilderness beyond the city, on a moonless, gloomy night, it was almost impossible to advance safely without light, even along a road. Yet this carriage raced forward at incredible speed, outpacing their own lantern-lit vehicle.
“Something’s wrong,” one of the guards muttered.
Lu Sheng drew back the curtains and peered into the night. The white carriage surged relentlessly, its driver a man of gentle, handsome features—the same one from the Black Meeting, the one who had guarded the woman at his side.
The carriage moved without pause, quickly drawing alongside Lu Sheng’s own.
“Ah Jiu, let’s stop for a bit.”
A melodious, elegant voice drifted from within, and the carriage slowed, matching pace with Lu Sheng’s.
The curtains lifted gradually, revealing a charmingly coquettish face, faintly frowning under the lantern light.
It was the woman from before—Duanmu Wan.
Lu Sheng maintained a poker face as he regarded her.
“Young Master, the roads are extremely dark tonight. May I borrow one of your lanterns to light the way? Consider it us watching out for each other.”
Duanmu Wan’s eyes flicked to him, a smile curving her lips.
“…Sure, Miss Duanmu.”
Lu Sheng replied evenly, then lowered his curtains.
“Young Master, if little miss may be so bold as to ask another favor,” she spoke again before he had fully retreated, “I knocked over a teapot in my carriage, wetting the round seat cushion and everything here. Could I please…”
Lu Sheng’s eyes narrowed, a prickling sense of caution rising. This Duanmu Wan was far from ordinary. ‘She says the carriage is wet… but who really knows?’
The way she had caught up with them in the dead of night seemed deliberate, an excuse to initiate conversation. Even if he refused, there was no guarantee she would relent.
“If Miss doesn’t mind my shabby horse carriage, please come up here to rest for a bit.”
Having achieved full mastery of the Black Tiger Saber Technique, Lu Sheng’s confidence had grown. His recent victories in battle, combined with the formidable power of the fourth level of the technique, made him feel capable of holding his own against an average martial expert—or even someone like Uncle Zhao, the foremost expert in Nine Links City.
Although his battle experience remained limited, the technique’s refined strikes and enhanced strength gave him an edge that could rival even Uncle Zhao’s in a confined space and over a short time.
He trusted that, no matter how skilled Duanmu Wan might be, he had the means to protect himself.
“Thank you very much, Young Master.”
Under the swaying glow of the lanterns, Lu Sheng signaled the coachman to halt. The white horse carriage eased to a stop alongside his.
The carriage doors slid open. Duanmu Wan, still clad in the black miniskirt from earlier, stepped out gracefully, her movements measured yet deliberate.
She lifted her head and offered a smile as Lu Sheng opened the carriage door for her. Her flawless skin, cherry-red lips, and the subtle flick of her tongue across them made the surrounding guards and the coachman flinch, hearts skipping without warning.
Slowly, she stepped up beside him.
As she moved, the black dress riding up slightly revealed a glimpse of long, slender legs and the curve of her rear. The view was fleeting, just enough to catch Lu Sheng’s eye but not enough to linger.
“Aiya.”
Duanmu Wan suddenly twisted, her foot catching at the edge of the step. Her body flung forward, landing lightly against Lu Sheng.
“Careful,” he said, hastily reaching out to support her.
Inwardly, he couldn’t help but notice the familiar “coincidence,” the kind often played for effect in romance dramas. A wry, cold chuckle flickered in his mind, but he gave no sign, acting only with measured caution.
She fell softly into the nook of his arm. The rise and fall of her chest brushed against his forearm, sending an involuntary jolt through him. Her cheeks flamed as she lowered her head, regaining her balance as if startled by a sudden shock.
Lu Sheng’s grip tightened slightly, steadying her without a word.
“Many thanks, Young Master…” she murmured, voice soft.
“You’re welcome. Do take a seat,” he said, guiding her to the side seat of the carriage.
Inside, two rows of four seats faced each other. Lu Sheng settled opposite Duanmu Wan as the carriage began to move again, wheels creaking softly over the road.
She sat with a flushed face, legs angled neatly to the side, tightly closed. From Lu Sheng’s vantage, a faint shadow traced the small space between her skirt and thighs. It was a subtle, fleeting glimpse, restrained yet impossible to ignore.
For now, it was just the two of them in the carriage. Duanmu Wan’s head was lowered, cheeks flushed in embarrassment, and she could not see him.
“Peng.”
The carriage jolted slightly, grinding over a bump in the road. Duanmu Wan’s legs trembled with the motion, revealing a narrow crack between them. From the corner of his eye, Lu Sheng caught a fleeting glimpse of white beneath her skirt.
“Is Young Master headed towards Nine Links City?”
Her voice was soft, as if unaware of what she had just exposed.
“That’s right. You’re going there too, Miss?” Lu Sheng asked casually, though the question was merely a formality.
“Yep. To be honest, Wan’er is currently staying at the Thousand Blessings Inn in the city. I heard there was a Black Meeting… so we came along with my guard to check it out. Who knew everyone would be masked! How boring,” she said, a note of mild dissatisfaction in her tone.
“For Wan’er and a personal bodyguard to travel such a long distance on your own, it must take both skill and boldness!” Lu Sheng remarked calmly.
“What skill? We were saved by a merchant group along the way, otherwise Wan’er and the guard would have perished from hunger or cold in some remote corner,” she explained.
“Speaking of which, the Young Master who saved Wan’er… he is as strong as you in martial arts prowess,” Duanmu Wan added with a light smile.
“Is that so?”
Lu Sheng’s mind sharpened. She had witnessed the fight earlier.
“At the Black Meeting, Wan’er saw that Young Master seemed to really need inner force secret manuals?” Duanmu Wan asked again, her tone curious but gentle.
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