Opening the Celestial Gate

Seductress Wei Wei felt an indescribable warmth bloom in her chest at Xin Long's concerned words. He was telling her to hide, worried for her safety. That alone was proof of his sincerity toward her.

She had never once considered hiding. And now, after hearing Xin Long's words, she was even less inclined to do so.

She was an assassin.

She was someone who had always fulfilled her duty without fail.

Thus, there was only one course of action—she had to fight her enemy to the bitter end.

With that thought, Maya Shin Wei Wei tightened her grip on her dagger and leaped forward to assist Xin Long in battle.

"Clang! Clang!"

"Swish! Swish!"

Ultimately, Wei Wei was simply caught within the moment of Xin Long's carefully chosen words.

When someone dear to them—someone who truly cared—spoke with such concern, the one on the receiving end would instinctively feel an even greater sense of worry in return.

Xin Long, who understood this truth by nature, had merely put it into action.

Ah Chan felt a jolt of unease as well when the woman Xin Long had called 'Sister Wei' lunged at him. Her movements carried an air of refined lethality, and though she wielded only a single dagger, the techniques she used were more advanced than those Xin Long had been employing against him. It was becoming increasingly difficult to evade.

Their blades targeted fatal points—his head, neck, chest—striking relentlessly from all angles, forcing him into a precarious position. However, he had not become one of the most important figures in the Golden Tiger Fortress, ranking just below the Five Grandmasters, for nothing. His martial prowess was on par with theirs.

Summoning the techniques of the Golden Swan Sword Style, he deflected their relentless attacks, countering with precise strikes. Though Xin Long and Wei Wei's movements were well-coordinated, covering all avenues of escape, their speed was not overwhelming. He had yet to sustain any injuries.

Still, as time passed, the situation grew more dangerous. Their coordination improved with each passing moment, their blades encroaching upon his space, making it increasingly difficult to hold his ground.

Realizing he could not keep this up indefinitely, he abruptly leaped backward—both to escape their tightening assault and to reposition himself for an incoming strike with his hidden poisoned weapons.

The instant he retreated, the rhythmic hum of Tie Yi's zither came to an abrupt halt. A moment later, a new melody filled the air—an eerie shift in tone. Simultaneously, Gu Gu's venomous needles shot toward Xin Long and Wei Wei.

He watched as the poisoned darts hurtled toward them, a knowing glint in his eyes.

"Shii…"

"Tan! Tan! Tan!..."

…

Xin Long braced himself against the pressure radiating from the resonating Guqin, the vibrations pressing down on his chest and making it difficult to breathe. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to endure, striking alongside Wei Wei against the black-clad assassin.

Despite attacking relentlessly, his blades sweeping across the assassin's entire body, he found himself unable to even graze the man's clothing. A sense of unease settled in his chest. Was he really still just a nameless figure in the greater martial world?

Had his consecutive victories in the trials made him arrogant? Had he overestimated himself? Those trials had only pitted him against opponents who, like him, had mastered the twenty foundational dagger techniques. That meant they were fights between equals, where victory depended not on overwhelming strength but on speed, adaptability, and strategy.

As that thought crossed his mind, a sharp frustration cut through him. Even if he had the resolve to kill, was it still not enough?

Determined, he pressed forward with Wei Wei, their movements becoming more synchronized as they closed in on the assassin. Yet, just when they had finally managed to corner him, the man suddenly twisted his body, dodging in a fluid motion before launching himself backward. With two agile flips, he closed the distance to the musician playing the Guqin.

Xin Long had just started to pursue when, abruptly, the Guqin's melody came to an abrupt halt. A heartbeat later, a new tune began—a shift so seamless yet deliberate that a cold realization crept up his spine.

Before he could react, concealed weapons shot toward them from the woman atop the horse. The projectiles came in rapid succession, forcing Xin Long and Wei Wei to deflect them mid-air with their daggers.

Only then did he realize—these weren't ordinary throwing knives. They were needles, thin and nearly invisible in the dim light.

As he continued swatting them away, the Guqin's rhythm intensified, its resonating waves tunneling deep into his body. A sharp pain bloomed in his chest. He barely had time to register the internal injury before a warm metallic taste flooded his mouth. Blood.

He coughed violently, crimson splattering onto the ground.

Through the blur of pain, he turned his gaze toward Wei Wei—only to see a thin trickle of blood slipping from the corner of her lips as well.

She, too, had been wounded.

Xin Long quickly realized that the internal injury he had sustained was not as severe as it first seemed. The reason he had coughed up blood was simply due to his weak internal strength.

Still…

Both he and Wei Wei had suffered injuries at the end of Prince Tie Yi's Guqin melody, Opening the Celestial Gate. In a stroke of luck, Xin Long's words had shaken Tie Yi at a critical moment, causing him to falter—disrupting the melody slightly. That brief interruption had weakened the technique's full impact, sparing them from a far more severe internal injury.

But just as Opening the Celestial Gate faded, another melody began to rise.

The next piece, Lotus Mist in Flight, flowed seamlessly from the musician's fingers, its sound waves rippling through the air like an unseen force. Unlike the previous piece, this melody was far more dangerous—those already wounded by the Guqin's sound could collapse and die the moment the song reached its final note.

Yet, as if untouched by the deadly melody, both Ah Chang and Gu Gu remained standing without issue. They were clearly well-versed in these harmonies, their bodies naturally attuned to the rhythm, allowing them to remain unaffected.

Xin Long, on the other hand, could feel the cold touch of snowfall drifting around him. He could see it—every delicate flake descending through the night.

The rustling of the trees reached his ears, the branches swaying in response to the chilling wind. From the corner of his eye, he spotted the woman on horseback. She had already dismounted, preparing to launch another round of poisoned needles.

Near her stood the musician, and beside him, a swordsman gripped his weapon with casual ease, gazing at them with an amused smile—his blade raised but not yet striking.

At the same time, waves of sound from the Guqin crashed against his body, sending sharp tremors through his already wounded form.

Ignoring the pain, Xin Long reached behind him with his left hand, fingers wrapping around the dagger always secured at his back.

And in that moment, an old memory surfaced.

His father's voice.

A lesson once spoken.

Words that, until now, he had nearly forgotten.

"A beast in the open plains is easier to catch than one hidden deep in the forest, my son."

"The saying 'the strong will always win' is true to an extent, but never forget that there have been countless cases where intelligence has allowed the weak to overcome the strong."

These were words his father had once told him.

As the memory surfaced, Xin Long subconsciously muttered the words aloud. Then, as if acting on instinct, he suddenly bolted toward the dense forest on the right side of the road.

"Wei! Run into the forest!"

At that moment, he realized—was he now the prey, forced into the role of a hunted beast? Had he foolishly been resisting the sound waves up close, standing on open ground where ranged weapons could strike them easily?

"Clang... Clang..."

"Whizz... Whizz!"

"Tan... Tan..."

As they sprinted away, the sound of rapid footsteps behind them merged with the sharp hiss of needles slicing through the air. Poisoned darts embedded themselves into the tree trunks lining their path.

Darkness loomed. With only faint traces of light to guide them, Xin Long and Wei Wei maneuvered through the dense forest, weaving past tree roots and tangled undergrowth. As they ran, Xin Long reached for the woolen cloak draped over his shoulders and yanked it off.

The moment he shed the woolen cloak, the black, form-fitting outfit underneath came into view—blending seamlessly with the surrounding darkness.

"Sis Wei, take off your woolen cloak…"

He called out to Wei Wei, warning her.

A faint "Mm!" of acknowledgment followed, and soon, another woolen cloak was left behind.

Black embraced the darkness.

Darkness embraced the black.

And then…

End – 18