7: Chapter 7 Lin Ke

The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows across Steward Yuan Zhen's face.

That well-maintained face was now as pale as paper, his lips trembling, as he squeezed a few words from his throat: "You... how did you get in?"

There were guards outside.

Night watchmen, gatekeepers, sentries—more than twenty people in total.

Yet, this person was just standing there before him, his clothes clean and tidy, without a single extra wrinkle.

Steward Yuan Zhen's back began to break out in cold sweat.

Jiang Yan didn't speak; he took two steps forward.

Steward Yuan Zhen instinctively retreated, the legs of his chair scraping against the floor with a harsh sound, his back slamming into the treasure cabinet behind him, causing the celadon vase on top to wobble.

With a "thud," Steward Yuan Zhen fell to his knees.

His forehead struck the floor with a series of loud bangs. Within a few moments, the skin broke, and blood began to trickle down the bridge of his nose.

"Young Master Jiang! Young Master Jiang, I was wrong!" His voice was sharp and thin, like a chicken with its neck stepped on. "It wasn't me who wanted to harm you, it was the Master! It was Zhou Mubai who wanted you! I'm just a dog; I bite whoever he tells me to bite—"

Snot and tears smeared his face, mixed with the blood from his forehead, making his face look an absolute mess.

"Killing me will dirty your hands, Young Master Jiang! Killing me will dirty your hands!"

Jiang Yan crouched down.

He looked Steward Yuan Zhen in the eye, his gaze as calm as if he were looking at a stone.

"You are right," Jiang Yan said, "Killing you would indeed dirty my hands."

Steward Yuan Zhen's crying paused, a glimmer of hope appearing in his eyes, thinking he had found a way to live.

Jiang Yan stood up.

He lifted his right foot and stepped onto Steward Yuan Zhen's left knee.

"Crack—"

The kneecap shattered, crushed completely, as if stepping on an egg.

Steward Yuan Zhen's scream was squeezed from his throat as he toppled sideways, clutching his leg and rolling on the floor.

His face was covered in sweat from the pain, his mouth agape, but he couldn't emit a coherent sound, only able to gasp "he-he."

Jiang Yan waited for him to howl a few times before walking to his other side.

He lifted his right foot again.

"Crack—"

The right knee shattered as well.

This time, Steward Yuan Zhen didn't even have the strength to scream. He lay limp on the ground like a crushed insect, trembling all over, his face smeared with tears and snot.

"Where is Zhou Mubai's real body?" Jiang Yan asked.

Steward Yuan Zhen's vision was blacking out from the pain, but he was stunned by this question. He looked up, his blood-covered face staring at Jiang Yan, his eyes full of confusion.

"Wh... what real body?" His voice was intermittent. "The Master... the Master usually stays in the main room of the third courtyard, occasionally... occasionally in the study next to the main room..."

Jiang Yan looked into his eyes.

There was no evasion in them, only tears of pain and fear.

This man wasn't lying. He really didn't know.

Jiang Yan drew the saber from his waist.

The blade reflected the candlelight, the cold light flickering across Steward Yuan Zhen's face.

Steward Yuan Zhen's pupils suddenly constricted, and his whole body began to tremble violently: "No... don't... I really don't know..."

Jiang Yan pressed the tip of the blade against Steward Yuan Zhen's cheekbone and slowly slid it downward.

The sound of the blade slicing through skin was very light, like tearing a piece of wet cloth. Beads of blood seeped from the incision and trickled down his cheek.

Steward Yuan Zhen shivered from the pain but dared not move, not even daring to scream—the blade was right on his face, and moving even slightly could cause it to cut deeper.

Jiang Yan finished the circle, dropped the saber, pinched the edge of the cut skin with two fingers, and ripped it off with a sudden jerk.

"Ah—!!"

The sound of the skin being ripped off was muffled, like tearing off a plaster that had been stuck on for a long time.

Steward Yuan Zhen screamed, clutching his face as blood poured out from between his fingers. His face was now a mix of red and white, like a skinned rabbit.

Jiang Yan tossed the piece of skin onto the floor, his voice devoid of any inflection: "The person staying in the main room is a body double. Where is the real Zhou Mubai?"

Steward Yuan Zhen, clutching his bleeding face, finally understood the meaning of those words.

A body double.

The Master had actually found a body double, and he, the steward, didn't even know.

Fear and shock temporarily overcame the pain; he lay on the floor, gasping for air, his mind racing.

Suddenly, he thought of someone.

"Lin Ke!" Steward Yuan Zhen's voice was hoarse. "Lin Ke definitely knows!"

Jiang Yan didn't speak, waiting for him to continue.

"Lin Ke is the Master's new favorite, he only entered the residence last winter." Steward Yuan Zhen gasped for air, speaking very quickly, as if afraid that if he spoke too slowly, he wouldn't have another chance. "That brat has a sharp tongue, his mouth as if smeared with honey, twisting the Master around his finger.

The Master consults him on everything now; my position has been shaken by him!"

His voice carried an irrepressible hatred: "This ungrateful wretch, I was the one who bought him all those years ago. If it weren't for me, he would have died on the road to exile long ago! And the result?

Once he climbed up, he started trampling on me, opposing me everywhere, and speaking ill of me in front of the Master..."

"I don't know about the body double, I really don't know." Steward Yuan Zhen swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "It must be recent. A while ago, the Master broke the leg of a Jianghu Martial Artist. That Martial Artist's grandfather is said to be a top-tier Martial Artist and released word that he would seek an eye for an eye.

Ever since then, the Master has been acting mysterious. I guess that's when he got the body double, but he didn't even tell me about this."

When he said the last sentence, there was a hint of grievance in his voice.

Jiang Yan was silent for two seconds.

A top-tier Martial Artist's revenge.

This reason certainly made sense. A top-tier Martial Artist is equivalent to the Qi Induction Late Stage. Although Zhou Mubai has a sister who is a general's wife, distant water cannot quench near thirst.

Zhou Mubai was afraid of death, so finding a body double to block a blade was reasonable and logical.

Just then, a chaotic sound came from outside.

"Clang, clang, clang—"

The sound of gongs came from the direction of the second courtyard, followed by rising and falling cries. Though it was hard to hear clearly across one courtyard, one could feel the entire Zhou Residence waking from its slumber.

Someone had discovered the unconscious guards.

Jiang Yan withdrew his gaze from the window and looked down at Steward Yuan Zhen on the floor: "Where does Lin Ke live?"

"West Cross Courtyard, the second room on the south side." Steward Yuan Zhen answered quickly. "There is a pomegranate tree at the door, easy to recognize."

Jiang Yan nodded.

Then he raised his saber.

Steward Yuan Zhen's eyes widened suddenly, his mouth opening to beg for mercy—

The blade slashed down from the top of his head, all the way down, splitting the person into two halves.

The sound came to an abrupt end.

Jiang Yan shook the blood off the saber, wiped it clean on Steward Yuan Zhen's clothes, and sheathed it.

He glanced at the two halves of the corpse on the floor, then turned and walked out, expressionless.

West Cross Courtyard.

Jiang Yan left Steward Yuan Zhen's room and walked west along the corridor.

The sound of gongs and drums from the second courtyard grew louder and louder. People were shouting, "There's an assassin!" and "Go report to the Master!" The sound of footsteps was as chaotic as a pot of porridge.

He turned from the corridor into a narrow alley, so narrow that only one person could pass through.

The moonlight couldn't shine in, and it was pitch black all around, so he could only feel his way forward along the wall.

At the end of the alley was a moon gate, and behind the moon gate was the West Cross Courtyard.

Jiang Yan just stepped through the moon gate, he ran head-on into a servant carrying a lantern. The servant saw a figure emerge from the darkness and was startled at first, but upon seeing it was a youth in a green long gown, he opened his mouth to shout.

Jiang Yan stepped in front of him in one stride, covered his mouth with his left hand, and struck the side of his neck with his right hand. The servant's eyes rolled back, and his body went limp.

The lantern fell to the ground, rolled a few steps away, and the candle inside went out.

The layout of the West Cross Courtyard was simpler than the previous two courtyards, with a row of inverted rooms facing south, and a stone path in front of the doors.

The second room on the south side, with a pomegranate tree at the door.

This was it.

Jiang Yan walked to the door and pushed it.

There was no one in the room. The quilt was turned back; he touched it, and the bedding was still warm.

Jiang Yan scanned the room—the wardrobe door was open, and a few pieces of clothing were draped over the back of a chair, as if someone had hurriedly put on clothes and left.

The commotion outside was too great. The sounds of gongs, shouts, and footsteps were mixed together, and the entire Zhou Residence was in an uproar.

Lin Ke had been awakened. He should be—at the body double's place right now.

Jiang Yan turned back, his pace much faster than when he came.

Seven or eight people were already gathered at the entrance of the main room.

Lanterns illuminated the courtyard, and the blade light flickered in the firelight. Standing in the middle of the crowd was a person.

A youth of about twenty, wearing a moon-white long gown, his waist bound by an ink-colored belt, his hair tied up with a jade hairpin.

His appearance was very handsome, his features delicate but not effeminate, his nose bridge high and straight, his lips thin and well-defined. Standing there with his back straight, he didn't look like a male concubine kept for amusement, but rather like a fallen young nobleman.

Several guards surrounded him, blades facing outward, protecting him in the center.

Jiang Yan walked out of the shadows.

The guards were stunned when they saw him—not because they recognized Jiang Yan, but because this person's posture while walking was too composed.

In a situation where there were guards everywhere and blade light filled the courtyard, a person walked out from the darkness, his pace neither fast nor slow, with no expression on his face, as if he were taking a stroll in his own courtyard.

"Stop! Who goes there!"

Two guards rushed forward.

Jiang Yan sidestepped the first blade, grabbed the second man's wrist with his right hand, and flipped it outward. The man's entire arm was twisted behind his back, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground.

The person whose first strike missed couldn't stop his momentum, his body leaning forward. Jiang Yan lifted his foot and kicked him at the base of his thigh, sending the man flying sideways, smashing a flower pot under the corridor.

Three more people rushed up.

Jiang Yan passed through the middle of the three, elbowing the first person in the chest, who let out a muffled groan and crouched down;

he kneed the second person in the lower abdomen, who bent like a shrimp, vomiting sour water;

the third person was grabbed by the collar and pulled down, his forehead striking Jiang Yan's knee, knocking him out instantly.

It took less than ten breaths in total.

Seven or eight people were all lying on the ground, some unconscious, some rolling around clutching their stomachs, some wailing while holding their arms.

Jiang Yan stepped over a person's hand and walked up to the youth in the moon-white long gown.

The youth stood his ground and didn't move.

From the moment Jiang Yan appeared until everyone fell, he hadn't retreated a single step. His facial expression hadn't even changed much.

Jiang Yan sized him up.

His perception from the Qi Induction Late Stage told him that this young man had no aura of a Martial Artist on him.

An ordinary person.

But this kind of composure was not something an ordinary person could have.

"Lin Ke?" Jiang Yan asked.

The youth looked at him and nodded.

"Where is Zhou Mubai?"

Lin Ke looked straight into Jiang Yan's eyes.

Under the moonlight, those eyes were very bright, bright as two blades just pulled out of the water.

"He's dead." He said.

The voice was not loud, but very clear.

Jiang Yan stared at his face for two breaths.

His three hundred years of experience from his previous life told him that this person was not lying.

"When did he die?"

"The day before yesterday."

"Where is the body?"

"Right here, under the Zhou Residence."

Jiang Yan was silent for a moment.

"Did you kill him?"

Lin Ke's mouth moved, not a smile, just the corners of his mouth lifting a little.

"Yes."

Jiang Yan looked at him again.

This time more carefully.

From head to toe.

The moon-white long gown fit well, the cuffs embroidered with dark patterns, and the jade pendant at his waist was of good quality.

There was a faint ring of scars on his wrist.

Not a new wound, but an old one, already turned into white, hypertrophic tissue, like a centipede crawling on his skin.

Caused by shackles.