After dark, the Qinglong Clan members who had entered the inner city during the day and stayed at inns and taverns took advantage of the night to quietly head out onto the streets. Traveling in groups of three, they skillfully used shadows, alleys, and stalls to blend in, evading the city garrison's patrols and heading toward Guangping Street, Xiguang Street, and Chengle Street. As they approached this area, densely populated by officials and nobles, the garrison's patrols became more intense. Yet the Qinglong Clan members had already learned the garrison's patrol patterns from the Clan Master and skillfully navigated around them, seeking out their targets. Wang Beiwang was part of one such group and served as its leader, guiding two young and capable members of the Qinglong Clan, each carrying a heavy bundle. Soon, Wang Beiwang and his two companions reached the outer courtyard of Yun Lan's office, the Minister of Justice. They skillfully scaled the high wall and entered the courtyard, then skillfully took shelter behind a flowerbed to avoid detection by the household guards. "We'll set fire to the outer courtyard. The inner courtyard will have skilled guards, and they'll easily notice us." Wang Beiwang pulled out three bamboo tubes, about half a finger thick, from his coat and distributed them to his teammates. The tubes contained Hui-lian Fire Sand, produced in the training grounds of the Sect Master—specifically, the underground cellar of the Duan Mansion. For years, the soil in the cellar has absorbed the essence of fire spirit, transforming into vibrant, crimson, crystalline fire sand. This sand is rich in potent fire spirit energy; once ignited, it burns steadily for several hours and cannot be extinguished by water. Under the cover of night, the three of them poured the fire sand onto easily combustible areas such as window frames, door thresholds, and pillar supports. Then, each of them lit a fire tongs to ignite the red fire sand. The sand instantly burst into bright sparks, melting the frames, thresholds, and pillars into a deep red glow, and soon ignited into a fierce blaze. The trio then proceeded to the next building. Soon, the Yun Mansion began to blaze with intense firelight, casting a warm red hue over the night sky, with the sounds of panicked firefighting efforts never ceasing. Wang Beiwang did not immediately depart. Instead, he stayed on, accompanied by his two brothers, As free-spirited, justice-driven figures in the martial world, they were always resolute and decisive—just as the families of corrupt officials and officials themselves fed off the people's resources, none of them were innocent. After escaping the Yun household, the three hurried along the shadows of the streets, racing toward the Zheng estate. That night, they had two tasks to accomplish, creating chaos being only one of them. …… The outer city. Inside a female pavilion atop the city wall, a group of soldiers gathered around a table, rolling dice, their faces weary yet animated. The outer guards hunched under the cold night wind, yawning lazily, eager to sleep yet still waiting for their shift to change so they could enter the enemy-held pavilions to gamble. "The weather is getting colder and colder—the wind feels like a blade," one soldier remarked, gazing down at the refugees below. "I wonder if these refugees will make it through the winter. If the emperor continues to distribute rice and relief supplies, it would be fine. But now, even the rice distributions have stopped." "Our companions scoffed, 'What difference does it make whether these pigs live or die? We ourselves are barely holding on, day by day. If Linxia falls, we'll have to face the northern dynasty's army head-on. For now, while we still have a few peaceful days, we should just enjoy ourselves—play more games, sleep more with the ladies, that's what we should do.' As they spoke, a sudden roar of refugees' voices erupted from below the city walls: 'The northern dynasty's army has arrived! The northern dynasty's army has arrived!' Then, from the dark distance, a vast expanse of flames began to rise, rushing steadily toward the city gates. The garrison on the city walls jolted awake, their drowsiness instantly swept away, shouting, 'Attack! Attack!' Soon after, the deep rhythm of drums echoed through the night. ... Inside the city, at a tavern about two hundred meters from the Zheng family's estate, Zheng Wenshi, clad in armor, stood at the window. He faintly heard the drums and horns from the outer city, and saw the flames blazing up along Guangping Street, Xiguang Street, and Chengle Street. Yet he paid them no mind, his The sound of hurried footsteps approached. The adjutant pushed open the door of the parlor and came to stand beside Zheng Wenshi, speaking in a low tone. "General, an urgent report has arrived from the outer city—northern forces are advancing." Zheng Wenshi replied calmly, "Have the troops from the other two battalions moved on?" The adjutant nodded. Zheng Wenshi's tone remained cold. "Inform our forces to remain in place, awaiting my orders." The adjutant hesitated, then paused, adding, "But the rebels are setting fire to the inner city—why should we still hesitate?" Zheng Wenshi responded with quiet disdain. "You are only to follow orders, not question your superiors." The adjutant silently withdrew. Zheng Wenshi gazed steadily at the tranquil Zheng estate, then exhaled a cold breath. "Merely minor tactics." With the inner city ablaze, the city's garrison patrols would inevitably be drawn away. And with the enemy pressing on the city walls, the capital's defensive forces would likewise be mobilized in urgent response. These were all the clear, deliberate strategies of the incompetent emperor. Yet, what could be done? As long as his elite troops remained in place, and the incompetent sovereign continued to devise one after another of subtle, well-concealed schemes, he would never be persuaded to leave. The spectral entity, invisible until it first manifested, suddenly spread its arms. Instantly, the rear courtyard of Zheng's estate was enveloped in thick waves of cold mist, lifting frost, dry leaves, and debris, all converging toward the spirit. The spirit "lifted" the swirling masses of chilled air, propelling them upward toward the sky-bound Du Huoshen. The vast surge of negative energy surged like a tidal wave, crashing into the enemy. Du Huan's body ignited with flames that roared to life, his hair turning fully crimson; these flames gathered into his outstretched fists. As he delivered a powerful punch, the blazing, scorching light struck head-on against the wave of negative energy. The clash of intense cold and searing heat generated a magnificent vortex, lifting dust and dry branches from the courtyard and hurling roof tiles skyward. With the wind roaring, the door of the eastern room swung open, and Zheng Wenhan, dressed in brocade, stepped out, his beard dancing in the gust. He gazed steadily at the figure floating in the air, and said calmly, "I have long heard of Segment Hao Shen of the Qinglong Sect—renowned and heroic throughout the realm. Yet, it seems his thieving nature remains unyielding. Tonight, I shall be the savior of the southern provinces, and you, the source of all misfortune." As the target appeared, Segment Hao's eyes blazed with fierce determination, transforming into a streak of crimson light as he plunged downward, aiming directly for his adversary's head. Suddenly, a master-level resentful spirit emerged from the roof, gently settling upon Segment Hao's back, completing the fusion, and thus interrupting his downward charge. Zheng Wenhan, standing firm beneath the eaves, remained unshaken and smiled, stroking his beard: "Master Segment, though you are among the foremost martial artists of the realm, you still fall far short when compared to the Patriarch. His two 'servants' alone are sufficient to claim your life." As the words fell, the roof of the eastern pavilion shattered with a loud crack, and a figure emerged—dressed in black short robes, pale-faced, with greenish eyes. A surge of dark qi radiated from him, dense and tangible, visible to the naked eye. This was a master-tier yin corpse. After breaching the roof, the black-robed yin corpse surged forward like a bolt of lightning, swiftly reaching the head of the segment master, intent on eliminating the strong warrior now enveloped by a spiritual servant. The synergy between the spiritual servant and the yin corpse proved effective—often capable of defeating practitioners of equal rank, provided the opponent lacked a countermeasure. Yet at that moment, a golden flame erupted from the segment master’s chest, spreading rapidly to engulf his entire body and the spiritual servant behind him. The spiritual servant itself flared with golden flames, emitting sharp, piercing cries inaudible to ordinary listeners. Though it strained to summon and direct the surrounding dark qi to extinguish the flames, the golden fire seemed specifically designed to counteract the dark qi, burning steadily and unyieldingly. Duan Huoshen's face was equally distorted. The power of the Golden Sun was overwhelmingly potent, relentless, and indifferent to enemies or allies—burning both foes and himself. Before launching his attack, the昏king had given him a scroll—the Yang Fire Scroll. This scroll carried the power of the Golden Sun, capable of extinguishing怨spirits and阴shadows, yet the昏king had stated that only one such scroll existed and could be used only once. Duan Huoshen chose to extinguish the怨spirits, as he lacked effective means to counter them; in contrast, though the阴shadows were formidable, they remained tangible, physical adversaries. Close combat had always been the forte of fire masters. As the spiritual attendants were enveloped in golden flames, Duan Bangzhuan endured the intense searing pain of the Sun God's power, then reached out with his palm to block the shadow's charging punch aimed at his face. Instantly, a surge of crimson flame erupted, consuming the shadow. "Thud!" The shadow, now bathed in flames, launched itself, knee-first, striking Duan Huoshen in the chest. The latter transformed into a stream of golden flame, forcefully propelling himself out of Zheng The brief skirmish woke the people of Zheng's household, from the lady, the young ladies and young gentlemen at the top, down to the maids, servants, and nannies at the lower levels, all rushing out to investigate. At that moment, two ethereal, gentle melodies floated through the night air, soft and flowing, like a mother's whispered lullaby, bringing an unparalleled sense of calm and drowsiness. Puff, puff... the people who had just stepped out of their rooms fell one after another, sinking into deep sleep. Two graceful women, their robes fluttering in the breeze, moved with effortless agility, leaping across the roof tiles and landing in the rear courtyard of Zheng's estate. The purpose of soothing ordinary people was twofold: to prevent Zheng Wenhan from slipping away into the chaos, and to clear the way, removing the soldiers who, though unworthy of participating in the battle, still obstructed the scene. As Zheng Wenhan was drawn by the two women on the roof, a sharp, gleaming short sword suddenly emerged behind him, and the woman holding it materialized. She wore a robe of black and white, with a round, sweet-faced appearance. "Cl The assault fails. The stone beneath Zheng Wenhan's feet cracks, and the fragments rapidly reassemble into a massive hand, lifting him high. The five fingers remain gently open, shielding him within. A fiery sphere roars forward, crashing into the gathered hand. The flame expands with a thunderous "boom," transforming into a beautiful young girl of thirteen or fourteen. Flames burst from every pore of her body, and red light spirals through each strand of her hair. This girl of fire advances, striking a single punch at the open palm. The impact detonates with a deafening roar, sending fragments of stone cascading outward and creating a massive breach, with a plume of smoke rising. Immediately afterward, from the midst of the explosion, a second figure emerges, also radiating flames, and delivers a follow-up punch to the breach. "Crash... crash..." As the two fire beings unleash their full power, the massive hand of stone fractures and disintegrates, scattering high-temperature fragments in all directions. Zheng Wenhan's disheveled form emerges. Before Jiang Jingwei, Hong Jiguo, and Sun Miao Miao could even deliver their attacks, a black silhouette plunged from the sky, its talons clamping firmly onto Zheng Wenhan's shoulders and lifting him skyward. It was a giant eagle with a wingspan of two meters. "Crack!" The sound of the bowstring echoed like thunder, launching an arrow that streaked toward Zheng Wenhan, slicing through the air with a piercing cry. At the same time, two swords—one long, one short—flew like silver ribbons, converging on Zheng Wenhan and the black-feathered giant eagle. Several courtyards within the Zheng family estate launched their own flying swords, intercepting the arrows and the long and short blades. The night sky rang with sharp metallic clinks as the swords collided, sparks flying. Zheng Wenhan narrowly escaped the sword strikes, only to hear a steady hum of wings at his ear as he breathed a sigh of relief. Looking in the direction of the sound, he saw the black silhouette approaching at a speed that seemed almost impossible, arriving at his side in the blink of an eye. "Whoo-whoo..." More flying swords surged upward from beneath the Yet, with speed as swift as lightning, the shadow narrowly evaded the attacks of the flying swords. One sword, seemingly destined to pierce through its target, unexpectedly altered its course and stepped aside—this was the effect of Qi Fu. "Plunged!" The shadow and the great eagle passed through each other, and Zheng Wenhan's body split open at the waist, his lower half falling with blood and organs. Was he truly slain? So effortlessly! Both Hong Ji and Jiang Jingwei simultaneously thought this, their faces brightening with the smile of victory. "Clap, clap, clap…" Suddenly, applause rang out. A door from the west wing opened, and another Zheng Wenhan, dressed in brocade, stepped out, gently clapping his hands. "What a splendid performance!" said Zheng Wenhan as he stepped onto the threshold and stood beneath the eaves, surveying the scene with a smile. "All of you are so skilled and well-coordinated—did you really intend to claim my life? Alas, I am a first-rank official of the court, protected by the nation's fortune, rarely struck by misfortune. Since all of you have now appeared, what are you waiting for?" "As soon as these words were spoken, figures rose from all around, standing atop the roof ridges and encircling Jiang Jingwei, Hong Jiguo, Sun Miao Miao, Gong Zhu, Xiao Yuan, as well as the quietly intervening Gu Ya, Xu Elder, and Zhou Keqing of the Yang family—totaling twenty-two. Even though Jiang Jingwei wasn't particularly strong in mathematics, she immediately sensed something was amiss. Were there too many Saint-level figures from the Zheng family? And among them, eight of the most threatening ones—eight peak Saint-level figures—were particularly alarming. This didn't match the earlier estimate of five peak Saints and nine ordinary Saints. This wasn't just an assassination attempt; it was clear they had willingly walked into a trap. 'Xiong'er!' a sturdy middle-aged man with a full beard shouted, glaring fiercely at Jiang Jingwei, 'My father arranged for you to enter the palace with the intention of overthrowing the emperor and avenging our bloodline. Yet you've been dazzled by Hua Shun and now you've sided with him. Tonight, I shall uphold my principles and eliminate you—this insignificant creature.' Zheng Wenshi finally turned his gaze away from the distant Zheng estate and summoned his deputy officer, issuing orders: "The moment has come. Notify the entire army to provide support to the Zheng family." As the deputy officer loudly affirmed, Zheng Wenshi pressed his long sword at his waist, his armor clinking steadily, and stepped out of the pavilion with steady strides.