THERE WERE NO LAMPS in the carriage. Only the bright moonlight trickling in through the swaying carriage curtains provided any illumination. Warm lips moved against Cui Buqu's, murmuring four words with the faintest whisper of breath.
Cui Buqu was stunned.
Why hadn't Feng Xiao simply whispered in his ear? Did he really have to do this mouth to mouth? They were so close even Cui Buqu's lip reading was useless.
But immediately a more vital question occurred to him. Whoever was lurking beneath the carriage must be a high-caliber martial artist, or Qiao Xian would have discovered them. Even among top martial experts, there were disparities in strength. For example, Fo'er had been the Khaganate's foremost expert, but Feng Xiao was still a cut above. Fighting Feng Xiao at his full strength had cost him his life.
Feng Xiao had snuck into Cui Buqu's carriage, feigning intimacy in an attempt to lower their enemy's guard. Did that mean this expert was even stronger than Fo'er? Was Feng Xiao reluctant to attack?
In the dark, the corners of Feng Xiao's lips quirked up. Before Cui Buqu could get a good look, Feng Xiao deepened the kiss. Feng Xiao's lips were soft, but he pressed forward relentlessly.
Cui Buqu's eyes snapped open. He struggled instinctively, but his strength was vastly inferior to Feng Xiao's. He was quickly pinned down once more. Feng Xiao's breath fanned over Cui Buqu's face. Cui Buqu was sure he wasn't drunk. Even if he were, someone like Feng Xiao would never lose control.
Why was Feng Xiao doing this? Was it to confuse the assassin hiding beneath the carriage?
At the sight of Cui Buqu furrowing his brow even as his mouth was sealed, Feng Xiao nearly burst out laughing. It seemed far-fetched that there could exist someone who was forever one step ahead of their enemies, always able to anticipate the next move. But Cui Buqu was a far-fetched sort of person. In the Khaganate, he'd used his own life as bait in order to expose Yuxiu. Feng Xiao had grown curious: What if he hadn't arrived in time, or appeared only at the last moment? Would he then have witnessed a wretched, panicking Cui Buqu?
Unfortunately, he'd missed this prime opportunity. Yuxiu was too powerful; Feng Xiao had been forced to give his all in their fight. He hadn't been able to entertain himself by putting Cui Buqu in such a perilous position.
And afterward, no matter the situation, Cui Buqu had always remained perfectly calm. He kept a cool head in any crisis, just as he had during the uproar tonight. He'd humiliated Princess Leping before the crown prince, the Prince of Jin, and all her guests, leaving her no way to save face. Feng Xiao was certain that after this incident, Princess Leping wouldn't feel remotely grateful to Cui Buqu for capturing the rebels. On the contrary, she was sure to despise him.
Yet Cui Buqu showed not the least anxiety or concern over the possibility. Feng Xiao wanted badly to see Cui Buqu overcome with shock or alarm—or even better, see him weeping and begging for mercy. He'd thought it might be difficult to achieve. But right now, he could feel Cui Buqu struggling against him, and just make out the look of surprise on his face. Feng Xiao knew he'd pulled it off.
What a pity the light was too dim for a clear view. Inspiration came to him in a flash, and he thrust his tongue into Cui Buqu's mouth. It tasted strongly of medicine, while Feng Xiao's tongue carried the tart-sweetness of mandarins.
"Mmph…"
Unfortunately, Cui Buqu didn't seem fond of the taste of mandarins. He jerked his knee toward Feng Xiao's crotch but came up short and was held down yet again. The faint scent of herbs clung to Cui Buqu's body as well, the result of consuming medicine day after day. The harder he struggled, the stronger the scent became. Feng Xiao felt he was about to turn into a piece of ginseng. He had a sudden thought: Daoist Master Cui had consumed a vast quantity of precious herbs and medicines over his lifetime. If Feng Xiao sliced him up and ate him, would it grant him eternal life?
Outside, the coachman's attention had drifted, and the carriage wheels went right over a stone in the middle of the road. The entire carriage rocked and tilted; as if unable to steady himself, Feng Xiao swayed and rolled to the side with Cui Buqu still fast in his arms.
Cui Buqu took the chance to punch Feng Xiao in the stomach. Just as he braced himself to sit up, a sharp blade drove up through the floor of the carriage. Its tip glinted, cold and ominous, mere inches from where they'd been lying moments ago.
The enemy's attack had missed, but they didn't withdraw. The blade wrenched toward them, as if their attacker could see them through the carriage floor. Feng Xiao grabbed Cui Buqu and sprang upward. The roof of the carriage blew off with a thunderous bang, and the two of them leapt out as a white-clad assassin sprang up from beneath the wheels in close pursuit.
Still in the air, Feng Xiao tossed Cui Buqu to Qiao Xian before turning to engage the white figure in a flurry of blows. Palms and glinting blades flew between them, practically impossible to follow. Any ordinary assassin would have worn black to blend into the darkness. That this man had chosen white was a clear sign of both confidence and arrogance. Despite his conspicuous attire, he'd successfully concealed his presence earlier. Even Qiao Xian hadn't noticed him; she was stunned.
A martial artist capable of holding his own against Feng Xiao had to be well-known in the jianghu. But Cui Buqu was frowning.
He didn't recognize this person at all.
The man's techniques were peculiar. Some of his moves resembled the saber techniques of the Southwest Jinchuan Stronghold, though he was seamlessly executing them with a sword instead, the integration of forms as smooth as rippling water. Other moves resembled the Daoist sword techniques of Xuandu Mountain, only more ferocious, bursting with malevolent energy. There was a touch of cold moonlight to his moves, a viciousness that sought to massacre every living thing it encountered.
Each sect had their own unique style, and no one was capable of learning them all. If someone utilized multiple styles, they were either showing off or trying to conceal their background. Clearly this person was doing the latter. His martial arts were superb, yet his appearance was utterly unremarkable. It was a face no one would give a second glance to, and anyone would forget in an instant.
Qiao Xian also noticed something amiss. "Lord Chief, the Zuoyue Bureau has no record of a martial artist of his appearance and training. Has he disguised his face?"
"Perhaps," Cui Buqu replied cryptically.
Until the sudden appearance of this assassin, tonight had been smooth sailing. Ren Yue had been arrested, the evidence of his revolt collected. Yet Cui Buqu had always had a niggling feeling that Ren Yue wasn't the true mastermind.
Was this also related to the Thirteen Floors of Yunhai?
As Cui Buqu pondered, Feng Xiao and the man in white moved ever faster. Never mind the terrified coachman; even Qiao Xian stood no chance of stepping in to assist. She could only wait for the duel to decide the victor. The longer she watched, however, the more alarmed she became. Feng Xiao was a superb martial artist. For this assassin to fight him to a draw, the man must be equally formidable.
Who was capable of ordering such an expert to assassinate Cui Buqu? If Feng Xiao hadn't been in the carriage, Cui Buqu would be breathing his last. What if this man came back for a second attempt? Without a protector equal to Feng Xiao, Cui Buqu's life would be forfeit.
Qiao Xian's worry deepened. As irritating as she found Feng Xiao, right now, she hoped with all her heart that Feng Xiao could kill this man. If Feng Xiao succeeded, she promised herself she'd never make trouble for the Jiejian Bureau again, no matter how often their deputy chief kept popping up.
Of course, had she known what had happened inside the carriage, Qiao Xian would likely have hoped Feng Xiao and the assassin would go to the grave together.
Either way, things weren't looking good. Sword glares swirled around Feng Xiao and the assassin, their qi whipping itself into a funnel that trapped Feng Xiao in its center. The man in white never attacked the same way twice. His movements were eerie: He resembled a specter as he vanished and reappeared, using techniques from the ninja arts of Yamato. But while normal ninja arts were mere optical illusions, this man had incorporated them into his sword techniques, making them far more potent.
Feng Xiao was soon cornered.
The glare from the man in white's sword blazed like the brilliant light of dawn as it spiraled toward Feng Xiao, ready to slice him to ribbons.