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Finally, the leader of the group gestured for the others to pull back their swords.

Feng Zhiwei let out a quiet sigh of relief. With the swords no longer hanging above them, at least they would have a fighting chance if it came to blows.

“Why are you brothers camping in this ancient temple? Where are you heading?” Feng Zhiwei smiled as she made casual conversation, deliberately ignoring the way the other martial artists still surrounded her as they moved away and rested.

“To the mountain.” The leader replied shortly, clearly uninterested in chatting.

The ancient temple was a shoddy shelter with thick dust and animal droppings littered across the ground; some wild animals trapped inside scurried around in terror as rain pounded outside, and a light mist gradually crept over the mountain.

A burly man walked over and pushed Ning Yi out of his way, shouting: “Good dogs don’t block the way, move!” He squeezed down next to the leader and grabbed a sack of oily paper from his backpack.

Feng Zhiwei had to hurriedly steady Ning Yi from his stumble, but Ning Yi only smiled quietly in response, not showing any signs of anger.

His smile was clear and beautiful in the dancing fire light, his face flickering from brightness to darkness like a pretty, demonic flower blooming in the quiet night.

No one noticed his smile, and the burly man noticed nothing except the food he was taking out of the paper wrap; his leader suddenly frowned and commented: “Aren’t those the letters our Sect Leader is looking for? Niu Qi, I can’t believe it, how dare you use that to wrap food! The Sect Leader will definitely punish you with the Sect Rules!”

“What letter; what does it matter.” Niu Qi laughed in reply, flexing the paper loudly. “We left in such a hurry there was nothing else to wrap the beef in. I could only grab some paper from the Sect Leader’s desk; he’d already read it anyway.”

Feng Zhiwei turned to examine the paper and her heart trembled.

The man held a red seal stamp between his fingers — a standard Nine Seal affixed with “Official Longxi Document Officer.”

This was a semi-official seal used by officers of the local government for official documents; because Official Document Officers were often the most trusted aides of the highest ranking official, they were in charge of both internal and external matters — for their convenience, these officers were given their own seals. This seal represented the highest-ranking official’s personal will; and this Official Longxi Document Officer was aid and advisor to Shen Xuru.

For Shen Xuru’s aid to send a letter to the Jiang Hu Sect Leaders could only mean one thing — without a shred of reasonable doubt, Shen Xuru was afraid that Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei had survived so he had secretly paid a Jianghu sect to hunt them down. If they died at the hands of Jianghu people, the Imperial Court would have no way of investigating.

Niu Qi put the papers to the side as he sliced the beef with his sword; Feng Zhiwei leaned surreptitiously, lifted up the corner of the papers and immediately noticed the drawings below.

What drawings?

Were they paintings of Ning Yi and her?

Then why had these people not recognized them?

Feng Zhiwei thought quickly: these portraits had been included in the letters to help the Sect to hunt them, but Niu Qi had stupidly stolen the letters to wrap his beef. The Sect Leader had not been able to give them the drawings so he could only describe how Ning Yi and Feng Zhiwei looked, so the group leader had been suspicious but could not be sure. These Jianghu people were typically unscholarly and unlettered, so as soon as they saw the characters covering the first page of the stack they had lost interest. The drawings had been undiscovered until now.

But Niu Qi was using the letters as plates to distribute the beef, and he would soon flip his way down to the portraits.

Worry filled Feng Zhiwei’s heart and she suddenly grabbed her stomach and groaned in loud pain.

Her groan immediately drew the attention of everyone, and they all stopped eating and looked over. Feng Zhiwei cried out, her face filled with pain: “Why is my stomach hurting? Did I eat something bad?”

Jianghu people were always careful and especially sensitive to the possibility of poison; at Feng Zhiwei’s words, they all dropped their beef and glanced around suspiciously. Niu Qi snorted, saying: “He never even touched our beef, what are you all scared of!” But even though he complained about their caution, he still packed the rest of the beef away with the stack of papers.

Feng Zhiwei cried out again and hobbled to her feet: “I can’t. I need to go to the latrines.” She walked away with shaking knees and suddenly stumbled, kicking the fire wood.

Sparks flew in every direction sending all the martial artists dodging, with some of the sparks landing on the oily paper wrapping the beef, lighting it on fire.

Happiness filled Feng Zhiwei, but then Niu Qi strode over and grabbed the pack, patting out the fire as he muttered to himself: “Can’t let it burn or else my bag will be filled with grease.”

Feng Zhiwei watched helplessly as the man carefully stored the beef away; Ning Yi stood and grabbed her arm, saying: “Careful, you might have taken ill from the rain, I’ll help you to the latrines.”

The Jiang Hu people watched them walk away, and the leader flicked his chin, gesturing for Niu Qi to follow.

Feng Zhiwei clutched Ning Yi as they walked forward, her eyes tracking the clean, reflective post-rain wall; disappointment filled her eyes — Niu Qi had followed, but he had not brought his bag with him.

She brought her finger to Ning Yi’s palm and quickly explained what had happened; Ning Yi thought for a while and then whispered into her ear: “One by one.”

Feng Zhiwei fell silent; it was risky, but there was no other way. They had no way of leaving undetected and no way of grabbing the letters; if Niu Qi took out the beef, he would almost immediately find the portraits of their faces. No matter what happened next, Niu Qi could not be allowed to return.

Since Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi had to kill Niu Qi, it would not be long until his death was exposed and the others attacked. Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi could not survive their simultaneous attack, so if they killed Niu Qi they would have to kill the rest; for their own survival, Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi needed to make the first move.

How best to kill them all was now the most important question.

And the first matter was killing off Niu Qi.

Just as Feng Zhiwei and Ning Yi reached the latrines, Niu Qi strode over to the pit, immediately loosening his pants and urinating. His black haired belly protruded outwards as he laughed: “F***, I needed to piss!”

Ning Yi frowned in disgust while Feng Zhiwei blushed to her ears; she turned away and climbed over to the other pit, holding her stomach as she groaned, untying her trousers.

Niu Qi glanced at her and laughed again: “So womanly, taking so long to untie your pants.”

But then the tip of a black sword cut through the back of his head, emerging from his mouth.

His eyes crossed as he looked down at the sword tip, confused; the brat was still untying his pants, how…