Chapter 9 Night Raid on the Wooden House: Bloodstained Moonlight, Lin Chen's Single Blade Shakes the Villains!

On Li Meng's third step over the threshold, his eyes had completely adjusted to the darkness inside the room.

On the bed, that figure in Black Uniform lay on his side, his right arm hanging limply over the edge of the bed, the back of his hand almost touching the floor.

His breathing was long and steady, as calm as a pool of still water.

The corners of Li Meng's mouth curled up; the short blade in his palm, which had a blood groove carved into it, was shifted into a reverse grip.

The tip of the blade pointed downward, aimed directly at the back of the person's neck on the bed.

"Easy work."

He lowered his voice and whispered a single word to Zhang Biao behind him, then immediately quickened his pace.

Three steps.

Two steps.

One and a half steps.

The rhythm of Li Meng's breathing changed, his forearm muscles tensed, and the short blade was raised high.

He had even rehearsed the trajectory of this strike in his mind—a clean, diagonal cut through the back of the neck to sever the spine.

At the very moment his blade was less than a foot away from Lin Chen's neck.

The seemingly "unconscious" body on the bed suddenly moved.

It wasn't a roll or a struggle.

It was an instantaneous burst of impact after accumulating power to its limit.

Lin Chen's right hand tightly gripped the hilt, and using his waist and abdomen as an axis, he launched himself from his side-lying position.

But the direction he flew was not toward Li Meng in front of him.

It was toward the door.

Li Meng's pupils suddenly constricted.

His short blade slashed down onto the empty bedding, the blade tearing through the coarse cotton padding without touching even a single hair.

"He wasn't poisoned!"

Li Meng's voice turned raspy, filled with disbelief.

Zhang Biao was standing two steps inside the doorway; the moment he heard the movement, his dagger was already held horizontally across his chest.

He saw a dark shadow shooting from the direction of the bed at a speed that surpassed his current understanding of a Body Refining Martial Artist.

"Stop him!"

Li Meng shouted loudly from behind.

Zhang Biao didn't have time to think; his body instinctively shifted half a step to the side as he thrust his dagger toward the waist of the dark shadow.

This strike was fast and vicious, a killing technique he had honed during his eight years as a guard for the Zhao Family.

Lin Chen did not slow down.

He ducked low while sprinting, his knees almost grazing the floor.

Zhang Biao's strike passed over his head, the wind from the blade ruffling his hair.

In the next moment, Lin Chen slipped under Zhang Biao's blade.

His right shoulder slammed open the half-closed wooden door, and he rolled out into the moonlight.

Zhang Biao's dagger pierced empty air, creating a gust of cold wind.

He turned his head toward the door; under the moonlight, Lin Chen had already stabilized his stance, his waist saber held horizontally before him, the blade reflecting a cold white glint.

"You're out?"

Zhang Biao's voice deepened, the contempt in his eyes completely vanishing.

Inside the room, Li Meng followed closely out the door, standing on the steps with Zhang Biao, one on the left and one on the right.

Both of their gazes fell on Lin Chen simultaneously.

The moonlight was faint, but it was enough for them to see the young face opposite them clearly.

There was no unnecessary emotion in those eyes, only a composure that made one's heart turn cold.

Li Meng's throat bobbed, and the palm holding his blade was covered in sweat.

"Three-Breath Knockout is useless against him."

Zhang Biao gritted his teeth.

"I saw."

"This kid's blood Qi... is a bit strange."

Li Meng turned his head, his voice kept very low.

"How is it strange?"

"It's too thick."

Zhang Biao slowly uttered those words, turning the dagger in his palm to point the tip at Lin Chen's throat.

"It's even more robust than both of ours combined."

Under the moonlight, Lin Chen stood in the clearing about five steps from the wooden hut's entrance.

Behind him was the narrow alley of the wooden hut area, with wooden walls on both sides creating a passage only wide enough for two people to stand side-by-side.

He chose to rush out of the house not because he was retreating.

The space inside the room was cramped; with a bed and a table, even turning around was difficult.

If two Body Tempering assassins attacked him from both sides in that environment, his hands and feet would be tied even if he had the advantage in strength.

But outside the door was different.

The narrow alley only went in one direction; they couldn't flank him.

If they wanted to kill him, they could only come from the front.

One by one.

"You two have a choice."

Lin Chen spoke, his voice echoing in the empty alleyway, neither high nor low.

Zhang Biao gripped his dagger tightly and did not respond.

Li Meng's short blade spun half a circle in the moonlight, and a dry laugh escaped his throat.

"A choice? You're just a Patrol Officer, yet you dare give us a choice?"

Lin Chen's blade tip lowered slightly toward the ground.

"Walk out of this alley on your own feet, or be carried out."

"Take your pick."

Li Meng's laughter stopped.

He glanced at Zhang Biao and read the same thought in the other's eyes.

They couldn't delay.

Dozens of Patrol Officers lived in the wooden hut area; if there was too much noise, the matter couldn't be kept secret.

"Together, finish this quickly."

Zhang Biao stepped down from the stairs, his dagger held against his forearm with the blade facing out, assuming a combat stance.

Li Meng followed closely behind, and the two of them approached Lin Chen one after the other along the narrow alley.

Their footsteps blended together, beating against the night like drumbeats.

Three steps.

Two steps.

Li Meng initiated the attack first.

HisBody shape suddenly lowered, his short blade slashing upward, aiming for Lin Chen's right wrist that held the saber.

This was a common disarming technique in the Jianghu; once successful, the opponent would become a tiger without claws or teeth.

At the same time, Zhang Biao circled half a step around Li Meng's side, his dagger following a clever trajectory to stab directly at Lin Chen's right ribs.

The two of them coordinated skillfully, attacking high and low, left and right, blocking all paths of retreat from the front.

Lin Chen did not retreat.

He took half a step forward with his right foot, his entire center of gravity suddenly leaning forward.

At this moment, the blood Qi of the Body Tempering Late-Stage surged fully into his legs and right arm, his muscle fibers tensing.

The standard-issue steel saber left its defensive stance, the blade sinking from the right and sweeping past his leg.

Wind-Breaking Saber Technique, Third Form.

Countercurrent Slash.

The essence of this move lay in the word "Counter."

The blade's momentum went from bottom to top, cutting in against the direction of the incoming blade to complete the most lethal counterattack in the shortest distance.

Halfway through Li Meng's upward slash, his vision suddenly blurred.

A flash of light rose from the very bottom of his field of vision, its speed as swift as a bolt of lightning.

Before his wrist could even change its move, that flash of light had already bypassed his short blade's line of interception.

The edge of the steel saber followed the outside of his jawbone, slicing upward through skin, muscle, and cartilage.

It didn't stop as it moved upward.

Warm blood erupted, splashing onto Lin Chen's chest and cheeks.

Li Meng's body maintained its forward-charging posture, his feet still steady on the ground.

But his head had already left his neck.

That head spun twice in the moonlight, trailing a long streak of blood, before slamming into Zhang Biao's chest.

Zhang Biao's face was instantly covered in his companion's blood.

Warm blood soaked into his eyes, nostrils, and mouth.

The smell of iron and gore filled his every sense.

Zhang Biao's dagger stopped mid-air.

His hand was trembling.

It wasn't from the cold, but an uncontrollable shudder that spread from the depths of his spinal cord to his limbs.

He wiped the blood from his face with force and looked at Lin Chen again.

The youth under the moonlight was covered in blood, the front of his Black Uniform dyed dark brown.

But those eyes were so clear they didn't seem like those of someone who had just decapitated a person.

Zhang Biao's thoughts raced.

Body Refining?

How is this Body Refining!

The speed and power of that strike, along with that incredibly precise angle of entry—it was impossible without the cultivation of the Body Tempering Late-Stage.

Yesterday, this kid was clearly just an ordinary person at the Body Tempering Early Stage.

To advance through two minor Realms in a single day?

Such a thing was unheard of, even on the Prefecture's Genius List.

"You... exactly are you?"

Zhang Biao's voice squeezed out from between his teeth, raspy and dry.

Lin Chen did not answer.

He took a step forward.

Zhang Biao instinctively took a step back.

His heel hit Li Meng's headless corpse, and he nearly tripped.

He barely steadied himself and held his dagger across his chest in a defensive stance.

But he knew in his heart how powerless this posture was.

If even Li Meng couldn't withstand a single move, how much better could he, Zhang Biao, be?

"Run or fight, the choice is yours."

Lin Chen's words drifted from behind his blood-stained face, each word weighing heavily on Zhang Biao's heart.

Zhang Biao's throat bobbed twice, his eyes darting frantically.

Run?

Where could he run?

Behind him was the dead end of the wooden hut area; to run, he would have to rush past Lin Chen.

But given the speed of that strike just now, he couldn't even see its trajectory. How could he possibly get past?

Fight?

Zhang Biao looked down at the dagger in his hand, then at Li Meng's still-bleeding severed neck on the ground.

The edge of the dagger trembled slightly in the moonlight.

It wasn't the wind; it was his hand shaking.

"I choose..."

Zhang Biao took a deep breath, his teeth grinding together.

His pupils dilated rapidly, and his entire blood Qi surged frantically in an instant, pouring into his legs.

He did not charge toward Lin Chen.

He turned and sprinted toward the wooden hut.

He wanted to climb the wall.

There was an old locust tree behind the wooden hut; Li Meng had climbed in from that tree earlier.

As long as he could get up the tree and over the wall, he could disappear into the night of Qingxi County.

Zhang Biao sprinted desperately, his footsteps pounding against the bluestone slabs, not caring about being stealthy.

Staying alive was the most important thing.

But he hadn't even run three steps.

A powerful impact came from behind, grazing the back of his head.

It wasn't a blade.

It was a person.

Lin Chen's speed was more than a level faster than his.

The footwork of a Body Tempering Late-Stage in full burst was executed to its limit in this distance of less than ten steps.

Zhang Biao only felt the wind howling in his ears, followed by an irresistible, massive force hitting the back of his right knee.

A kick.

It landed accurately on the back of his knee.

The knee joint bent backward under the massive force, the sound of ligaments snapping even duller than that of bones breaking.

Zhang Biao lost his balance and fell forward.

His chin slammed heavily onto the bluestone slab, two teeth were knocked out, and blood foam flowed from the corner of his mouth.

He tried to push himself up with his hands, but a black official boot stepped firmly onto his spine.

The sole of the boot pressed against his back, pinning him to the ground.

The force was neither too great nor too small—just enough to keep him from moving, but not enough to break his spine.

The cold blade touched the skin on the back of his neck.

The chill of the steel traveled down his spine and deep into his brain.

Every muscle in Zhang Biao's body instantly stiffened, and even his breathing became extremely cautious.

With his face pressed against the rough bluestone slab, in the corner of his eye.

He could see the blood from Li Meng's headless corpse nearby, slowly spreading toward him along the cracks in the stone.

"Who sent you?"

Lin Chen's voice came from above.

No anger, no threat.

He was just asking a question he needed an answer to.

Zhang Biao's lips trembled a few times, unable to produce a complete syllable.

The blade applied a slight pressure to his neck, cutting a thin line through the skin, and beads of blood rolled down the blade.

"I'll ask one more time."

Lin Chen increased the pressure of his boot slightly, causing Zhang Biao's chest to let out a muffled groan.

"Second... Second Young Master Zhao."

Zhang Biao finally squeezed out those words, his voice hoarse.

"Second Young Master Zhao Hu sent you to kill me?"

"Yes... he gave the order personally."

Zhang Biao's forehead rested on the cold stone slab, sweat and blood mixing together to soak a small patch of ground.

"He said... your head should be placed in a box and brought back."

Lin Chen's blade did not move.

He stood in the moonlight, his boot pinning the back of the Zhao Family guard, his face splashed with the blood of others.

A few steps behind him, a headless corpse was still leaking residual blood.

The autumn night wind was very cold, blowing against the hem of his blood-stained Black Uniform, making a faint sound.

"My head."

Lin Chen repeated those words, his tone as flat as if he were reading an official document.

He looked down at Zhang Biao's features, which were distorted by fear.

"Take a message back for me."

Zhang Biao's body jolted.

"I'll keep my head for now; I'll return the favor sooner or later."

"But when the time comes, it won't be mine in the box."

As he finished speaking, Lin Chen sheathed his saber.

He bent over and fished out the bamboo tube scented with powder and two ten-tael silver ingots from Zhang Biao's robes.

The silver ingots shimmered with a soft luster in the moonlight.

Lin Chen put the silver ingots into his robes and stood up straight.

Then he heard a faint sound of footsteps coming from the other end of the alley.

Someone had been awakened.

A dim oil lamp flickered at the entrance of the alley.

Wang Daniu's burly face appeared behind the light.

He had been woken from his sleep by the noise and came running over, stumbling in his shoes.

The moment the lamp lit up the alley, Wang Daniu stopped in his tracks.

He saw the headless corpse on the ground.

He saw Zhang Biao lying on the ground with a broken leg.

He saw Lin Chen, covered in blood, standing in the moonlight.

The oil lamp in his hand wobbled three times, nearly falling to the ground.

"Lin... Lin Chen?"

"Yeah."

Lin Chen turned his head and glanced at him.

"Do me a favor and go to the Patrol Division to borrow a pair of shackles."

He nudged Zhang Biao on the ground with the tip of his boot.

"This one's alive; he needs to be sent to the County Jail."

Wang Daniu opened his mouth and couldn't close it for a long time.

The light from the oil lamp reflected in his wide-open eyes as it swayed back and forth.

Only the sound of the autumn wind and Zhang Biao's low groans remained in the alley.

Lin Chen turned around, walked to the water vat at the end of the alley, scooped up a ladle of cold water, and splashed it on his face.

Bloody water mixed with cold water and dripped from his chin.

He looked up toward the distant city of Qingxi County.

The upturned eaves of the Zhao Family estate were hidden in the boundless night.

Lin Chen shook the water droplets from his hands and re-hung his waist saber.

Deep in his mind, a deep blue light screen floated quietly.

The numbers on it emitted a faint glow in the darkness.

[Killed a Zhao Family guard, thwarted an assassination attempt, and defended your own duty and safety. Action evaluation: Excellent!]

[Triggered immediate settlement, Points +150!]

[Captured an assassin alive and obtained key intelligence leads. Extra reward points +30!]

[Current total points: 300.]

Lin Chen looked at the number, and the corner of his mouth twitched slightly.

Second Young Master Zhao Hu spent twenty taels of silver to buy his life.

Now, those twenty taels of silver were in his robes.

The person who tried to take his life was also at his feet.

But the Zhao Family's next move would be the real trouble.

In the distance, Wang Daniu dropped the oil lamp and sprinted barefoot toward the Patrol Division, muttering as he ran.

In the dilapidated wooden hut area, a few lamps were lit one after another.

Lin Chen leaned against the water vat and closed his eyes.

Midnight had passed.

A new day had begun.