The Xie residence was in utter chaos. There was panic everywhere, noise piling on noise. Zhao Gutong tore through the compound screaming, “Your Majesty! Your Majesty!” He flailed like a headless fly. And yet the Son of Heaven had perished so quickly, ground to ash in the span of a few heartbeats, that no one dared swear he was truly dead. Zhao Gutong had seen the Emperor dodge death too many times, hurling out secret weapons one after another. If he could not be killed on the road, who could possibly finish him inside the Xie residence? Across the courtyard the Xie Clan knelt, weeping and clawing at the ground beside a shriveled head that looked more mummy than man. It was all that remained of their patriarch. Every drop of fluid, blood included, had been boiled away by a terrifying heat. Yes, Xie Shiheng had caches of his blood stored elsewhere, but a fourth rank elder recovered only if he was strong and young; this one, pushing 450 years old, was already at the end of his span. Even if the flesh returned, his core vitality would be gone. It was as good as death. In the courtyard, Xie Jiangui bawled louder than anyone. Suddenly, he looked at the bleary, wine-reeking man beside him—Xie Jian’an, the nominal head of the clan—and snarled, “This is all your fault! Some clan head you are! You couldn’t even keep the guards in line, and look, an assassin walks right in! You need to—” A blur cut him off. Pain bloomed in his chest; words fled. Behind him the disgraced clan head, the man everyone looked down on and laughed at, had driven an arm clean through his back and closed five fingers around his heart. Xie Jian’an’s lips curved. His fist squeezed. The heart burst; blood sprayed. Xie Jiangui crumpled. He died instantly. “Where is His Majesty?” Zhao Gutong shrieked, arriving just in time to see Xie Shiheng’s mummified head. Rage twisted his face. Xie Jian’an sighed. “Imperial Tutor, perhaps you people drew something dreadful down on us. My clan’s patriarch is dead, remember.” “Where is the Emperor? Where?” Zhao Gutong barked. Xie Jian’an only shook his head. You could all be the killers! Zhao Gutong immediately wanted to retort, but the scene before him did not fit the thought. A stalemate thickened in the air until a rumble like thunder rolled in. It was cavalry. The Flying Bear Army had entered the residence. “Mm… my head… it hurts.” Xie Yu twisted under her quilt and whimpered. She opened her eyes to find her husband beside the bed. She muttered, still hazy, “You didn’t go swing your blade today?” Since Li Yuan had awakened the Heavenly Eye, the disturbance in his soul had been locked away in a corner of his being. That gnawing revulsion toward living flesh was still there, but now it felt much, much fainter. Li Yuan stroked Xie Yu’s cheek. “No training today. You were drunk, so I stayed to watch over you.” She laughed, eyes curving into little crescent moons. “You just didn’t want to share the bed because I smell like wine, right?” “Exactly,” Li Yuan said. Xie Yu huffed and rolled over, then rolled back again. “Think I drank too much. I was having a nightmare. I dreamt of huge explosions, blazing fire…” “That wasn’t nightmare,” Li Yuan said flatly. “Huh...?” Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel·fire.net “I just listened in. Sounds like the Patriarch was murdered.” “W-what...!” She stammered, “W-who did it?” “No idea. I peeked outside and only caught a few burning shadows in the sky. I meant to help, but it was over before I could lift a hand.” His gaze turned grave. “Whoever did it, if I’d faced them, I’d be dead.” She grabbed his sleeve. “Next time you stay clear, understood? You’re crazy about the blade, not about dying.” While they talked, a maid’s anxious voice sounded outside. “Third Miss, Young Master, are you all right?” The couple stepped out. “We’re alive,” Li Yuan answered. Trembling, the maid blurted, “Terrible news! The Patriarch was killed, and His Majesty is missing. Grand General Lu is in the main hall, questioning everyone.” “The Emperor…is missing?” Xie Yu’s eyes went round. Last night the lecher had ogled her, made her spin in front of everyone, angling for both sisters. Furious at her block-of-wood husband, she’d drunk herself senseless. Waking to find him keeping vigil had cooled her temper, but the Emperor who’d humiliated her was simply… gone? “I don’t know, Third Miss,” the maid said, nearly in tears. “Please, both of you, Grand General Lu is waiting.” “We’re coming,” Xie Yu replied, hurrying to compose herself. Behind her, Li Yuan’s eyes narrowed. Just what kind of creature is Lu Xuanxian? The Xie Clan’s main hall was already packed. The Flying Bear Army sealed every exit. The ghost cavalry waited farther off. Dawn lightened the sky, but clouds lay thick and low, pressing on every heart. Members of the Xie Clan filed inside the main hall one after the other. No one knew what Lu Xuanxian had whispered to Zhao Gutong, but the imperial tutor had rushed off to investigate elsewhere, leaving the residence firmly in Lu Xuanxian hands. Creak! The door swung open. Xie Wei stepped out of the main hall and into the courtyard, her expression tangled as she watched the next member of the clan go in. Being a woman, she felt an odd intuition. The Emperor was surely dead. Yet whoever slew him had spared her. In fact, they had even gone out of the way to avoid her. If the killer had meant to, he could have struck while the Emperor was in bed with her. Why? Who was was the assassin? Someone strong enough to swat aside the Patriarch should have made short work of her too. Yet they hadn’t. Xie Wei kept her guess to herself, merely reporting that trouble erupted after the Emperor left her chambers; clearly the assassin had needed to confirm their target before acting. As for where His Majesty had gone, she had no idea—her doorway had been wall-to-wall flames at the time. She’d fled through the rear window, and by the time she crept back, everything lay in ruins. Carrying the Emperor’s child didn’t bind her to him at all; if the man who killed him fancied her, she could even see herself currying favor, anything that might let the Xie Clan prosper. She was willing to do anything that would keep her father, brother, sister, and even her new brother-in-law safe. Lost in thought, Xie Wei spotted Li Yuan and Xie Yu approaching. Xie Yu took her arm for a few whispered words. When Xie Yu’s name was called, she stepped inside the hall for questioning, then soon re-emerged. “Husband, your turn. Just answer honestly,” Xie Yu said. Li Yuan glanced at the hall door, which resembled a beast’s maw cracking open. After a brief pause, he walked in at an ordinary pace. The moment he crossed the threshold a voice snapped, “Close it.” Li Yuan shut the door and bowed. “Grand General Lu.” Lu Xuanxian’s gaze raked over him. He did not begin his questioning immediately; he let several breaths pass in silence before saying, “This room is sealed. Nothing gets out. So I’ll be blunt, the Dragon Vein wants to work with you.” “...” Li Yuan raised an eyebrow, then asked, “What are you talking about?” Ignoring the puzzled look, Lu Xuanxian went on, “If you hadn’t killed the Emperor, I would have killed him myself. Though, I’d have waited until we reached the Jade Capital to do it. Know why?” “...” Li Yuan remained silent. “To enter the Jade Capital and help the Emperor retake the throne, that’s only the sideshow. The real spectacle is the ghost domain fusion being brokered by Peng Mingyi and Zhao Gutong. “Apparel Atelier and the Exotic Beast Park, Zhao Gutong is the former’s puppet, and Peng Mingyi belongs to the latter. “You must wonder how such massive ghost domains can cross the ancient ghost street and still merge. Simple, they’ve found a way to slip its leash.” “...” Li Yuan didn’t react. He simply continued to listen calmly. Lu Xuanxian leaned forward, voice low. “Here’s a secret big enough to break mountains. The ancient ghost street is the Dragon Vein. So, shall we cooperate?”