Chapter 21: Assassination

Leaving the Pavilion of Flowers, the lanterns were already beginning to glow. Beigong Qiyi led Ximo with a lively curiosity, observing the passing pedestrians and the shops lining the streets. She laughed, “Since returning to Li Manor, I’ve rarely had the chance to stroll outside.” Ximo gazed at the floating lanterns on the lake and replied, “Indeed, I’ve never been out here before.” Beigong Qiyi arched her brow and said, “If you like, let’s linger out tonight and enjoy ourselves.” Ximo’s eyes sparkled, and he nodded enthusiastically, smiling.

Seeing him so delighted, Beigong Qiyi couldn’t help but laugh aloud. At that moment, a vendor selling candied hawthorn walked by. She stopped him, bought a skewer, and handed it to Ximo. He took it, wrinkling his nose in mild confusion. “Why did you buy this for me?” Beigong Qiyi ruffled his hair, smiling, “You’re so much like a child, I had to buy you something sweet to cheer you up—lest you wander off with someone else.”

Ximo had just bitten into a hawthorn berry; her words left him uncertain whether to swallow or spit it out. He glared at her, huffed softly, and said, “Unless you send me away, I would never run off with anyone else.” Beigong Qiyi smiled gently. The two happened to pass a wonton stall. Despite sixteen years in this world, she had never tasted wontons. With a thoughtful glance, she led Ximo over.

They found a clean seat. The stall owner, a man in his sixties, noticed their fine attire and hurriedly wiped his hands on his clothes before running over. “What would you like?” Beigong Qiyi glanced at Ximo and said, “Two bowls of wontons, beef flavor.” Her voice was smooth and melodious, like pearls dropping onto jade, like raindrops on banana leaves. The old man couldn’t help but look up, and upon seeing her face, was momentarily stunned.

Beigong Qiyi tapped the table gently, and the old man regained his composure. “Please wait a moment.” Ximo carefully washed the chopsticks and cups, then poured tea for Beigong Qiyi. The tea at the little stall was weak and bitter; Beigong Qiyi tried a sip and set the cup aside, not drinking further. Soon, two steaming bowls of wontons were served, the aroma rich and inviting.

Beigong Qiyi picked up a wonton, took a small bite to taste, then popped the rest into her mouth. After swallowing, she smiled, “These wontons are quite good.” Ximo, hearing this, tried one himself and nodded repeatedly, “Delicious.” Just then, another person sat beside them. Beigong Qiyi looked up—it was Helian Wei.

“Young Master,” Helian Wei greeted, feeling a touch of awkwardness, though also a faint joy. That night, Beigong Qiyi had been somewhat drunk, but Helian Wei was perfectly sober. At first, being pinned beneath the young master had been humiliating, but seeing her face made his heart race, rendering him dazed and infatuated.

“Master Helian,” Beigong Qiyi replied. Helian Wei smiled lightly. “You may simply call me Helian.” Beigong Qiyi nodded with a smile. “Are you here for wontons, too?” Helian Wei shook his head honestly. “I was just passing by and saw you, so I came in.” He glanced at Ximo and asked, “And who is this?”

Beigong Qiyi patted Ximo’s head. “This is Ximo.” Ximo looked up and smiled obediently at Helian Wei. Seeing the intimacy between them, Helian Wei’s gaze darkened. “Then I won’t intrude further. Farewell.” Beigong Qiyi nodded, making no effort to detain him.

When the two had eaten their fill, night had deepened. Beigong Qiyi strolled leisurely with Ximo; the streets grew increasingly empty. She paused, narrowing her eyes, and pushed Ximo behind a wooden railing in a hidden spot, whispering, “Stay put and keep quiet.” Ximo nodded, worry etched on his face. “Be careful.” Though he knew no martial arts, he understood the seriousness of the moment. Beigong Qiyi nodded and stepped out.

The street was deserted, save for the occasional gust of wind. Beigong Qiyi stood tall, her long hair fluttering. Suddenly, a glint flashed in her eyes; she stepped back just as a sword blade swept past her ear, severing a lock of hair that drifted to the ground. Unfazed, she flicked a stone she’d picked up, hearing a muffled grunt in response.

She glanced around, laughing softly. “How many are left? Come out.” No sooner had she spoken than five flashes of swordlight streaked toward her. Beigong Qiyi sidestepped, avoiding them all. Her eyes shone brightly, cold as twin stars in the sky. A gust of wind swept by; she shifted her stance. The five assailants felt a chill as a swift palm strike followed—a sharp forc