The assassin was the very same one who had been smashed on the head with a teapot by Su Zhiruan and pierced through the shoulder blade by Fu Huaichu's sword. He silently disposed of the guard, and using the sound of the wind, he approached the carriage. From a position where others couldn't see him, the corners of his mouth curled up into a sinister smile.
"How did you come back—assassin!" The guard who was supposed to be watching the carriage thought it was another guard returning, but to his surprise, he saw a figure clad in black, his head covered in crusted blood. He immediately drew his longsword from its scabbard, ready to grapple with the assassin, "I didn't expect there to actually be someone faking death. Die!"