The faint light reflecting off the snow outside barely penetrated the hall’s darkness. An Jiu’s situation was precarious as her opponent could use internal energy to slow their breathing to near imperceptibility.
In the shadows, An Jiu slowly relaxed her bow but maintained her stance with the arrow nocked. One finger hooked the trigger of the crossbow strapped to her arm. She focused intently on sensing her opponent’s presence.
Assassins have keen instincts for danger, but this alone wasn’t enough to pinpoint the person’s exact location.
An Jiu sensed the attacker was likely within three zhang. Perhaps lacking confidence in a killing blow, they hesitated to strike.
An Jiu’s mind raced, considering possible ambush positions.
The hall had raised platforms with arhat statues on the east and west sides. If the north and south had them too, the attacker might climb onto a statue for a clear shot. If not, they’d likely use the roof beams like her.
Mei Jiu, silent until now, suddenly said, “There are no arhats on this side.”
Trusting Mei Jiu’s certainty, An Jiu didn’t question it. She shifted, exposing her shadow from behind the pillar where she’d been hiding.
In the darkness, An Jiu’s ears caught the faint whistle of something cutting through the air.
Using her momentum, she flipped onto a roof beam. As she rose, she triggered her crossbow.
Over a dozen silver needles pierced through her falling hood, embedding in the opposite pillar!
Simultaneously, a loud crash echoed inside the hall.
Sheltered by An Jiu’s mental protection, Mei Jiu felt safe. In this situation where they weren’t directly facing an enemy, she only needed to stay relaxed and avoid hindering An Jiu’s actions.
An Jiu changed positions, pushing open a narrow window in the roof and quickly slipping inside.
The interior was much darker than the outside, but not too challenging for An Jiu.
She saw someone lying on the ground and immediately fired two crossbow bolts.
Hearing a muffled groan, An Jiu hid behind the westernmost arhat statue. Only when she sensed no life signs did she emerge.
She pulled out two bolts, using the arrowheads to search the body. She found a map in their clothes and examined it in the dim light.
It was identical to Mei Tingyan’s map, completing the one in her possession! She wrapped it in a handkerchief and tucked it away.
“Did you kill him?” Mei Jiu asked, shocked.
“No,” An Jiu replied.
“But you killed him!” Mei Jiu’s voice trembled. She had seen the person take three arrows, one piercing their throat.
“If you saw it, why ask? If you don’t like it, get lost!” An Jiu said coldly.
Mei Jiu pleaded, “Can’t we find a place to hide? We just need to survive and get out, right? We don’t have to kill anyone.”
An Jiu had intended to ignore whatever Mei Jiu said. But hearing this, she couldn’t help challenging her, “So you’re saying you’ll leave your mother to fend for herself in the Crane Control Army? You don’t care anymore?”
Perhaps a similar maternal love had awakened a tiny bit of emotion deep in An Jiu’s heart, making her despise Mei Jiu’s attitude.
“I…” Mei Jiu couldn’t avoid the question. “How could I not worry about my mother!”
“So your worry is just thinking about it in your heart?” An Jiu questioned again while remaining vigilant for attacks.
Mei Jiu was speechless. She knew that without joining the Crane Control Army, worrying was all she could do. But to join, how could she avoid killing?
“The Tianxin fragments and ice crystal box help improve internal energy. I must obtain them,” An Jiu said. She was uncertain about her future, but as long as she had a goal, she would persist in achieving it.
“Can’t we just look for the items without killing anyone…” Mei Jiu’s voice was faint as if speaking to herself.
She didn’t want to become a bloodstained butcher in the future. Nor did she want to become as cold and unfeeling as An Jiu. She feared that by the time she found her mother, she might have forgotten what familial love felt like.
The fighting in the back hall had also ceased.
An Jiu caught up with the others.
Mei Tingjun watched her warily.
“It’s me,” An Jiu said.
They all sighed in relief.
“We shouldn’t linger. Let’s talk outside,” Mei Tingzhu said.
As the group left the Main Hall, Mei Tingyan asked, “How many maps do we have now?”
Mei Tingzhu extended his internal energy, sensing no one nearby, and replied, “We should have three complete sets now.”
Killing in the dark hadn’t been visually shocking, and Mei Tingzhu had done most of the killing. Mei Tingyan felt that snatching others’ maps was easy, so she enthusiastically suggested, “Then let’s go grab two more!”
Mei Tingzhu poured cold water on her excitement: “Those five people all had fourth-grade martial arts and weren’t particularly skilled with hidden weapons or poisons. Even so, if Fourteen hadn’t shot and killed three of them, do you think we would have had a chance when ambushed?”
His reminder suddenly made everyone realize that of the five ambushers, An Jiu had single-handedly dealt with more than half!
“Do you have no internal energy?” Mei Tingyan asked suspiciously.
An Jiu didn’t respond.
Mei Tingyan snorted but said nothing more.
The five of them, benefiting from the Mei family name, had traveled without anyone daring to attack rashly. They were among the first to reach the Main Hall. Earlier groups had likely already gone to search for Tianxin fragments, as the early bird catches the worm. The team that had ambushed them in the hall had incredibly bad luck. It seemed they had five identical map pieces and had hidden on this necessary path, planning to ambush lone actors before the main crowd arrived. Who would have thought they’d snatch four maps without a single one matching their fragment? In their desperation, they had risked ambushing a group.
This comparison immediately made everyone feel extremely fortunate.
Mei Tingzhu took out three maps and pieced them together. “Let’s look for this one first. It’s on the outskirts. If someone else has already taken it, we’ll go deeper and search for the item on the second map.”
No one objected.