01

01 spent three days travelling with the troops from the ruins of Luoran to the border pass of Yandi. The stale stench of sweaty men in unwashed clothing made the soft eggy scent of sulphur insignificant.

The architects designed and built the Grand Prince's residence on a mountainside between the fortress pass and the border town of Bian. Within its walls were two ancient sulphur hot springs — one reserved for the Grand Prince and the other for Yinyue's bodyguards.

Only injured bodyguards reserved the right to use the sulphur hot spring, a special perk. 01 could have used it because injuries included scratches, scrapes and cuts incurred in the line of duty.

He didn't because he hated the smell of sulphur and sulphur stung wounds, like salt to a raw wound.

Both hot springs were at the back of the residence. They had a partial view of the Black Mountains and the fortress pass, separated by a large moss-covered boulder formation.

The tranquil singing of birds calling others to roost gave off a peaceful presence along the landscaped stone pathway to the hot springs. Only at the turn towards the entrance, the atmosphere changed from peaceful to tense.

At the entrance, four female special guards in black gowns stood, blocking anyone trying to pass through. An aura of danger radiated from them.

They were mature-aged women with the hardened faces of common peasant women in their late thirties. Their appearance made people underestimate their martial arts skill. Yet, they displayed the imperial etiquette without flaw.

All four were skilled martial artists recruited from an underworld syndicate and not the Shadow Pavilion.

He knew Yinyue established a relationship with an underworld syndicate. An underworld syndicate was an organization beyond the control of any ruler. Most supplied assassins and all smuggled restricted items.

Which syndicate and how close she was to them didn't arouse enough of his curiosity to find out.

All princes, including her, held different levels of connections to the underworld syndicates on the continent. At the bare minimum, a contact with them.

A quick death awaited princes with no connections.

Most of the underworld syndicates worked as a necessary evil. They killed people whom the Prince can't kill; smuggle items which a Prince shouldn't touch; and seek information that the ordinary spies can't dig out.

01 knew better than to test these women's patience.

Not because of their fighting prowess. He needed to deliver an urgent message and starting a fight with them served no useful purpose.

He saw them in action once when a group of assassins trespassed the residence. Average assassins cannot get past them. Against the elite assassins, their fighting style sucked.

They didn't mingle with the bodyguards or any of the resident guards, but all staff in the Grand Prince's residence knew their face. No one dared to ask questions or hinder them.

The four women appeared each time Yinyue had serious injuries.

Behind the four women, the steam escaped from the hot spring, casting a graceful translucent veil moving with the breeze. In winter, the steam formed a heavy mist.

He walked up to the female guard and presented a jade token carved with his name, rank, and the special seal to identify himself. She gave the token a quick glance. His rank of the most senior elite personal bodyguard meant nothing to her.

None of the women accepted word of mouth. Only authorization tokens accepted.

"Business?" She asked.

"Urgent message," he replied.

His voice raised enough for Yinyue to hear.

"Let him in."

That voice belonged to Yinyue. The female guard moved aside for 01 to pass through.

The suffocating warm humidity in the air around the hot spring made 01 thankful for taking a quick bath earlier. Humidity made the dirt stick on skin like glue.

Beyond the thickening mist of water vapours, he spotted the silhouette of a naked woman's back with her hair tied up in a bun, sitting in the milky waters of the sulphur hot spring.

He saw a partial view of her back with the two deep red thick lines — the wounds where the arrowheads were dug out from.

Her back and arms bore other raised scars like an artistic piece of chaotic calligraphic strokes. He stopped at the familiar steps to the pool where she was.

"What's the urgent message?" She asked.

"The seventh Grand Prince's secret guards exited the border pass for the Black Mountains," he replied. "Someone must have heard about your upcoming meeting there."

She shrugged. The meeting date in the valley of the Black Mountains could be leaked by one of the attending princes from the other states, or the spies by their side. She couldn't control their actions.

His men kept tabs on the group of twenty secret guards who arrived in the border town of Bian in Yandi two weeks ago. They pretended to be traveling traders.

The secret guards didn't know they blew their cover. Because of an unspoken rule — the three innkeepers in Bian town reported any suspicious activity to the local magistrate. Suspicious activities included staying over a week.

Most traders stayed for up to a week.

Bian town was no holidaying or trading spot compared to the regional capital of Yancheng. The border town had farming villages and mines. Even the busiest part of the town resembled a sparse market place of huts and street vendors picking a random spot to sell each day.

"Which token did they use?" She asked.

"The eighth prince."

Yinyue chuckled. Like her, the eighth prince, Huba, is one of the six Grand Princes. He is her eighth half-sibling and six years older than her but not the brightest. Yinyue is the thirteenth child of the Emperor and the youngest Grand Prince.

"Kill them and get the old Eighth's token. Take as many men as you need. If needed, use a decoy."

Her usual kill order allowed him to vent his frustration on the targets.

"My Prince, anything else?" He asked, as per protocol.

"Why didn't you want a name when I offered?" She asked.

Her question caught him by surprise, but his face remained expressionless.

Like her, he also trained in the Shadow Pavilion as an elite assassin. In terms of seniority, he is one of her seniors who used to accompany her on training missions.

Did she know something? She shouldn't.

A master granted a name to a slave as an act of generosity. 01 didn't want a name because he had one, which he didn't want to use yet. His refusal of a name acted as his defiance against his so-called slave status. To accept a name is to admit his slave status.

"I'm used to being called 01," he replied.

She turned and raised an eyebrow at his answer.

Pity, he thought as his eyes fell on her slender, fair neck.

What would it be like to grip her neck and witness a dominant woman struggle for breath?

Were her cold emotionless eyes a trained facade?

Or will her eyes resemble those pathetic humans who pled for their lives before he killed them?

Most women disgusted or irritated him because they were too weak and dependent on the power of others. They relied on their powdered faces, rehearsed gentleness and careful words to get their way.

Those women sent to seduce him displayed themselves like a stupid colourful feathered pheasant parading itself in front of a hunter. They were no challenge.

Only the blade of his sword made contact by impaling their bodies if they tried to touch him.

Yinyue posed a tempting challenge. He savoured the thought of her writhing under his hand.

Best of all, she could kill him.

"Like what you see?" she asked with a smile.

He snapped out of his fantasy and averted his gaze, pretending to act modest.

"Get lost," she added, waving her hand.

Thankful for her dismissal, he walked out of the steamy area while his fingertips rubbed together, itching to strangle her.

Never mind, he will have fun with those secret guards. They will give him a good fight.