Chapter 22 – A Silent Night

Beiluocheng was home to three great noble clans: the Chen, Liu, and Zhu families. In the Da Zhou Dynasty, aristocratic lineages wielded immense influence, possessing vast lands and labor forces, forming self-sufficient economic systems with deep-rooted power structures. The twelve rebellious lords and most of the governors from various provinces were, in fact, scions of such noble bloodlines.

Due to its proximity to the imperial capital, Beiluocheng, under the shadow of the throne, had somewhat restrained aristocrats. The influence of the Chen, Liu, and Zhu families was far weaker than that of their counterparts in the outer provinces. Yet, no matter how diminished, they remained noble clans.

…The night grew deep, and silence blanketed the city.

Within the Chen Manor, the gates were shut tight. Rain-washed leaves lay scattered across the front steps, evoking a bleak and desolate air—like an ostrich burying its head in the dirt. Dantai Xuan led his army in a siege upon the city, while the three noble clans conspired from within, intending to open the gates and hand Beiluocheng over, hoping to break free from Lu Changkong's oppressive grip and reclaim control of the city.

But fate, as always, had its own plans.

Lu Changkong had hidden a martial grandmaster within his ranks—an overwhelming force that struck down the patriarchs of the three noble clans with thunderous might. The turn of events left the three clans paralyzed in fear.

With Dantai Xuan failing to seize the city, their gamble had collapsed completely.

Creak…The sharp clash of wooden wheels against the stone-paved road echoed through the stillness of the night. Lu Fan, seated in a wheelchair, arrived before the tightly shut gates of the Chen Manor, his party bathed in the faint, hazy light of the moon.

"This is the Chen residence?"Lu Fan pulled the wool blanket higher over his legs. The air was damp and cold in the aftermath of the heavy rain.

Ning Zhao, pushing his wheelchair, gave a gentle nod. "Master had intended to deal with the three noble clans, but their roots run deep in Beiluocheng, with sprawling industries. To uproot them recklessly would disrupt the livelihood of the city. Thus, Master has yet to determine how to move against them."

"Noble bloodlines have birthed many a warlord in chaotic times," Lu Fan said with a faint smile, lacing his fingers together as he pressed them down.

"It's late, and I'm a bit weary. Let's get this over with quickly," he added.

Ning Zhao nodded, lifting the wheelchair to cross the stone steps before the gate.

"Xiao Ni, go knock," Lu Fan said, ruffling Ni Yu's hair.

Ni Yu was taken aback, her lips trembling slightly."Huh? Young Master… I'm scared," she said, turning to Lu Fan.

"What's there to fear? Martial cultivation begins with courage. Without boldness, how can one hope to become a peerless warrior?"Nie Changqing, holding Nie Shuang's hand, glanced at her."Shuang'er, go with her," he instructed.

Nie Shuang was nervous too, but her father's rare stern gaze sparked a surge of determination. He had never looked at her like that before. Since she began her martial training, Nie Changqing had grown sterner with her—sternness tinged with hope.

With Nie Shuang beside her, Ni Yu found some courage. The two young children exchanged glances, then mustered their bravery and stepped up to the gate of the Chen residence.

They struck the beast-head copper knocker.

"Hello? Anyone there?"Nie Shuang's young voice rang out as she shouted with all her might. Ni Yu followed behind, chiming in.

Lu Fan rested his chin on his hand, watching them with a smile.

No one responded.

The two children knocked and shouted again, their tender voices tearing through the stillness of night.

Under the bright moonlight, their faces flushed with growing excitement.

"What's with the racket? Making a scene in the middle of the night!"

A rough, booming voice exploded from behind the door.Thunk—the bolt dropped, and the great doors creaked open. A brutish servant in coarse linen glared menacingly at the children.

"Whose brats are you? Is this the place to fool around?"

"Get lost! Or I'll beat you to death!"

Despite his bellow, Nie Shuang stood her ground, head held high. Ni Yu, though trembling, widened her eyes and took no step back.

So fierce…!

Lu Fan brushed his finger along his nose.

Nie Changqing moved.

The butcher's knife in his hand swung in the dark like a shadow, resting coldly against the servant's neck.

Only then, in the moonlight, did the servant notice Lu Fan in his wheelchair—and the people around him.

"Y-you… who are you?"Terror surged in his heart, yet he forced himself to speak."This is the noble Chen residence! You dare act so brazenly?!"

Ning Zhao pushed Lu Fan over the threshold as wooden wheels rolled forward into the manor.

"The City Lord's estate comes to collect what's due."

Lu Fan, fingers to his chin and brushing his nose, passed the servant without so much as a glance, leaving only a cold sentence behind.

The servant's pupils shrank to pinpoints. His body stiffened as if struck by lightning.

The City Lord's estate?!

He knew full well what the Chen family had done. When the army besieged the city, the three noble clans had betrayed the City Lord…

Now that the City Lord's estate stood tall while the traitors trembled, retribution was at hand.

His face turned ashen.

The new head of the Chen family had warned him a thousand times—do not open the gate.

And yet he had done just that.

They were cunning—sending children to knock. He hadn't been prepared. He had assumed it was just someone's unruly kids.

Who would've imagined the mighty City Lord's estate would send children to knock on their door?

Had he known, he would've died before opening that door.

Ning Zhao pushed Lu Fan inside. The Chen Manor, in layout, resembled the Lu estate—classic Chinese gardens with winding paths, pavilions, rock formations, and koi ponds. But it was more lavish, dripping with wealth. Under the gentle moonlight, it was as if one had stepped into a finely painted scroll.

Nie Changqing held the butcher's knife steady against the servant's neck, his face devoid of warmth or mercy.

The servant's legs trembled. The stench of blood from the blade churned his stomach.

It was a blade soaked in vengeful spirits.

Lu Fan sat in his chair, letting the cool post-rain breeze wash over him—quite pleasant, really.

Ning Zhao stood quietly behind him, her dark hair cascading like silk. Bathed in moonlight, she looked like a fairy untouched by mortal dust.

Ni Yu stood at his side, holding a parasol nearly as tall as herself.

"Old Nie," Lu Fan said softly, eyes half-lidded as he watched fish swimming in the pond, "it's a bit too quiet tonight."

Nie Changqing narrowed his eyes. He understood.

With a twist of his knife, he carved into the servant's thigh. Blood gushed instantly.

The servant's eyes bulged as a scream—sharp as a pig's dying wail—ripped from his throat, shattering the night's stillness.

Lights flickered to life within the manor.

Faint figures, hurried footsteps, the splashing of water puddles—all erupted in the darkness.

Deeper in the gardens, bowstrings groaned.

A group of robed martial scholars raised their bows, arrows gleaming with deadly chill, aimed at Lu Fan and his companions.

In that instant, tension soared—

The air was thick with the scent of steel and blood.