Even with a blade at his neck, Gui Shou remained unfazed.
“Ninth Prince, you’re only a 3rd stage martial artist. Coming here alone—you really underestimated me!”
“Bloodfiend—Nine Abyss Soul Devour!”
Suddenly, Gui Shou bit the tip of his tongue and drew a blood seal with his essence blood.
Boom!
In midair, a blood-red skull emerged, accompanied by a gust of foul wind and blood rain. Countless wailing souls screamed as it slammed toward Xiao Yang at close range.
This was a forbidden Witch Sect technique that required sacrificing ten years of lifespan.
It was said that a Witch King had once used this curse to annihilate all life in an entire city.
“Ninth Prince, you’re dead!” Gui Shou’s face was full of twisted excitement.
At such close range, he believed Xiao Yang had no chance of survival.
But Xiao Yang had no intention of dodging. Instead, he stepped forward to meet the attack head-on.
“Dragon’s Fury Resonance!”
In the next instant, golden light erupted from his body. The divine power of the Blackscale Myriad Dragon Armor activated, absorbing the incoming attack and transforming it into a phantom dragon that retaliated.
Boom!
A dragon shadow shot forth, shattering the blood-red skull instantly. The remaining force slammed into Gui Shou’s chest.
Bang!
Gui Shou was sent flying, drawing an arc through the air before crashing down like a dead dog, barely clinging to life.
“How… how is this possible?!” Gui Shou couldn’t believe it.
Wasn’t the Ninth Prince of the Northern War King’s residence supposed to be a good-for-nothing?
He had hidden this deep?
But Xiao Yang remained calm, as if everything had gone exactly as expected.
I’m decked out with god-tier gear and even have a revival item. How could I lose?
Truthfully, this had been a calculated move.
Gui Shou was at the 5th stage. If he had tried to escape right away, Xiao Yang wouldn’t have been able to stop him.
So he’d deliberately played weak, luring Gui Shou into thinking he had a chance to kill him. Then he activated the Blackscale Myriad Dragon Armor to counterattack—instantly turning the tables!
“Since you’ve got no last words, then prepare to die!” Xiao Yang raised his blade.
“Wait! Ninth Prince, don’t kill me! I’ll be your dog… I can be a spy in the First Prince’s household!” Gui Shou begged frantically.
“Too late.”
Xiao Yang shook his head. He didn’t trust a sinister person like this. But suddenly, he smiled, “How about this—flip a coin. If it lands on its edge, I’ll spare you.”
What?!
Was this a joke?
But at this point, he had no choice. He pulled out a copper coin and tossed it into the air.
Clink, clink…
The coin rolled a few times on the ground—and miraculously lodged upright in a crack.
“It stood! It stood!” Gui Shou shouted, thrilled beyond belief, as if he had just won the lottery.
Bang!
But the next second, Xiao Yang stepped on the coin and flattened it.
“Sorry. It fell after all. Seems heaven doesn’t favor you.”
Then, with a flash of his saber—
Slash!
A red line appeared on Gui Shou’s neck. Blood gushed out. His head rolled to the ground.
Xiao Yang sheathed his blade and disappeared into the night.
…
Early the next morning, at the First Prince’s residence.
“Your Highness, bad news!”
Advisor Lu Xu rushed into the hall and reported, “Last night, Gui Shou was assassinated in his home. His body was decapitated!”
“Who did it?” Xiao Junlin asked.
“Unknown. There were no witnesses. But the killer used the Thunderclap Saber Technique, likely someone from the Vermilion Bird Army,” Lu Xu replied.
“Oh?”
Xiao Junlin raised an eyebrow.
He wasn’t particularly upset about losing a retainer. But if it was someone from the Vermilion Bird Army, and it happened just after Gui Shou activated the [Heart-Piercing Blood Curse], then the message was clear:
Someone was protecting Xiao Yang. And it was also a warning to him.
“Tsk tsk. Looks like Ninth Brother really latched onto Ning Hongye’s thigh. Don’t tell me he actually doesn’t mind that hideous woman and even consummated the marriage?” Xiao Junlin muttered.
“Your Highness, now that Xiao Yang has the Vermilion Bird Army behind him, it’s unwise to use force against him,” Lu Xu reminded.
“No matter. I’ve got other means.”
Xiao Junlin sneered coldly. “If brute force won’t work, then we go soft. Send Second Brother. When it comes to killing without shedding blood, no one’s better than a scholar.”
“Brilliant, Your Highness!”
Lu Xu’s eyes lit up, clearly understanding, and flattered him at once.
…
Elsewhere.
Knock knock knock!
Suddenly, Huang Li called from outside the door, “Young Master, Qiu Ya, a maid from the Second Prince’s residence, has come to see you!”
“Let her in,” Xiao Yang said.
Soon, a tall maid entered.
She wore a pale yellow palace robe that outlined her graceful curves. She looked a few years older than Huang Li, exuding a mature, alluring charm.
In terms of facial features, she was undeniably a top-tier beauty—bright eyes, white teeth, red lips, and elegance in every move.
“Greetings, Ninth Prince!”
Qiu Ya bowed gracefully, then presented a silk-inlaid invitation with both hands.
“Tonight, His Highness is hosting the Orchid Pavilion Poetry Gathering. He has invited talented scholars from all four northern provinces. It will be a grand event. His Highness sincerely invites you to attend.”
Xiao Yang looked at the invitation—gilded edges, silk base.
Just the material alone was worth dozens of taels of silver, equivalent to several years’ earnings for a commoner. The extravagance was clear.
He quickly recalled memories about the Second Prince.
His mother came from a wealthy Jiangnan merchant family and was also a disciple of a sub-sage from the Wen Temple.
It was said that when Xiao Ziwen was born, a shooting star streaked across the sky and landed near the royal residence, leading to rumors that he was the incarnation of the Literary Star.
Unlike others, Xiao Ziwen never practiced martial arts. He focused on reading the classics and followed the Confucian cultivation path. With extraordinary talent, he had already reached the 5th stage.
In Confucian terms, 5th stage was the ‘Gentleman Realm’—one could use brush and ink to defend themselves, and poetry could shape rivers and mountains.
As the saying went: “Gentlemen speak, not fight.”
Martial artists often mocked Confucians as all bark and no bite, while Confucians thought martial artists were vulgar and brutish.
The Confucian path required not just wealth and resources but also social status. That made it rare, reserved for nobles and elites—commoners had little chance to study it.
“Thanks for Second Brother’s invitation, but I’m not interested in poetry gatherings,” Xiao Yang shook his head and declined.
He remembered that Second Prince Xiao Ziwen loved pretending to be cultured, composing poetry, especially in front of pretty women.
But to Xiao Yang, watching a bunch of scholars kiss each other’s behinds was less entertaining than watching stray dogs brawl in the street.
“Ninth Prince, His Highness also said—if you attend the Orchid Pavilion Poetry Gathering, he’ll immediately hand over the promised ‘Yuewu Military Manual.’ Otherwise, it’ll be delayed for who knows how long…” Qiu Ya added.
Hearing this, Xiao Yang frowned.
The ‘Yuewu Military Manual’ was a precious Spirit-grade treasure, left behind by the famous general Yue Wu from five hundred years ago.
It was said that mastering the manual’s strategies could enable one to dominate a region and compete for supremacy across the Central Plains.
Though it wasn’t useful to Xiao Yang, it would be a godsend for Ning Hongye, who was preparing for a rebellion.
Its value far surpassed any divine weapon or magic artifact.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
Xiao Yang took the invitation.
Just then, Qiu Ya seemed to remember something and added, “By the way, Ninth Prince, tonight’s poetry gathering will also be attended by the number one beauty of the four northern provinces!”