[ Third Person ]
When the sun finally dipped below the jagged northern peaks, a heavy, freezing darkness rushed into the valley, bringing with it the biting chill of early winter. Inside the cramped confines of Dormitory 5, however, the air was thick with warmth and loud, explosive laughter.
"I am telling you, the creature possessed the tactical intelligence of a frontline general!" Laohu roared, wildly flailing his arms as he stood atop his wooden cot.
He was in the middle of spinning an incredibly animated, heavily exaggerated story about the time he had fallen out of a massive cedar tree while attempting to capture a rare giant slug in the deep woods. Of course, he had heavily altered the details to mask the fact that it had actually occurred within the sovereign territory of the forbidden Weiyou tribe, transforming the story into a ridiculous comedy of errors.
Eun Jo and Chou Xi were thoroughly engrossed, leaning forward on their respective bed rolls, their faces bright with genuine amusement as Laohu mimicked the slug's supposed defensive maneuvers.
Weicheng sat cross-legged on her mat, forcing herself to smile and nod along with the rhythm of the room. But beneath her relaxed uniform, every muscle in her body was wound tight like a crossbow string. Her eyes kept shifting toward the paper screen of the side window.
They're coming, she thought, her heart rate rising.
Suddenly, a strange, unnatural shift occurred in the ambient air of the hallway outside. It was a microscopic pressure drop—the unmistakable signature of an elite martial artist moving through a blind spot.
Weicheng's eyes locked onto the bottom corner of the sliding paper door. A faint, jagged shadow flickered across the screen—the precise tactical hand signal utilized by the Empress's shadow assets. They were waiting at the perimeter wall.
She desperately began calculating an exit strategy, her eyes darting toward the latch, but before she could move, Laohu leaped down from his cot, landing heavily beside her and grabbing her arm with a massive grin. "Cheng! Your turn! Tell them about the time we had to outrun that rabid mountain boar near the lower rivers!"
The eyes of every boy in the room instantly locked onto her face, bright with expectation. They were all terrifyingly intelligent, highly trained candidates; a single erratic movement or a slip in her demeanor, and her entire framework would collapse into suspicion.
Outside, the shadow against the paper screen remained static. Weicheng saw a thin, metallic gleam reflect off the wood—the assassin was losing patience, his fingers shifting toward his blade to slash the paper screen and force her out. If he breached the door, the entire dormitory would turn into a bloodbath.
Weicheng immediately stood up before the blade could touch the paper, her movement so sudden it startled Laohu backward.
"What happened?" Eun Jo asked, his eyes instantly narrowing as his hand instinctively dropped toward the training sword resting beside his mat. "Cheng?"
"Ah!" Weicheng suddenly let out a loud, agonized groan, clutching her lower stomach with both hands and twisting her face into a grimace of absolute misery. "My... my stomach. It is executing a total rebellion."
Laohu stood up quickly, his face shifting into genuine, protective concern as he reached for her shoulder. "Is it the dried rations from the southern march? Let me run to the medical pavilion and call Mu Lin—"
"No! No medicine!" Weicheng shouted, putting her hands out to push him away while maintaining her doubled-over posture. "I just... I need to utilize the latrine structures immediately. I am experiencing severe, catastrophic diarrhea!"
A collective groan of disgust rippled through the room. Chou Xi shook his head, a look of profound pity on his face as he reached toward the front wooden peg, pulling down his heavy wool winter cape and holding it out toward her. "The courtyard temperature has dropped below freezing, Cheng. Take my cape before you freeze out there."
"No time! Thank you!" Weicheng gasped, waving her hand frantically as she grabbed a lone paper lantern from the side table and slid the door open, lunging into the dark corridor before they could question her further.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, the comedic mask vanished from her face. She ran down the service stairs, her breath hitching as she realized she was being actively monitored from the roof tiles above. The Empress's watchdogs were everywhere.
She sprinted through the lower courtyard gates, her lantern flickering wildly against the wind. As she approached the primary outer wall, two elite palace sentries stepped out from the stone archway, their iron broadswords clearing their scabbards with a menacing metallic hiss.
"Halt! No candidate is permitted outside the residential block past the third hour of darkness!" the lead guard bellowed, his teeth gritted as he prepared to strike.
Weicheng didn't utter a single syllable. She reached into her inner tunic, pulling out the heavy, solid gold Yun Crest and thrusting it directly into the lantern's glow.
The moment the light hit the intricate royal engravings, the guards' faces went pale. The iron swords were instantly driven back into their sheaths, and both men slammed their knees into the frozen mud, lowering their heads in absolute, terrified reverence.
Weicheng blew out her lantern, passing them like a ghost as she slipped into the dark recess of the outer latrine stalls. Within ninety seconds, she stripped away her loose candidate uniform, revealing the sleek, skin-tight black tactical robes she had hidden beneath the floorboards weeks ago. She pulled a dark silk veil over her face, securing it tightly behind her ears.
Reaching into the hollow stone column, her fingers closed around her weapon. It wasn't the Grandmaster's sword she used in training—Master Pu had already confiscated that after the funeral. She was holding her old weapon: the ancient, balance-weighted Blood Sword.
If I utilize a traditional Arghon bow tonight, the arrow signatures will trace directly back to my family records, she reasoned, strapping the dark crimson scabbard to her back.
She scaled the outer stone wall with fluid, silent movements, dropping into the dark wilderness beyond to meet the waiting shadow assets. According to Bai Ku Ji's calculations, the ministers' central assembly inside the palace would last precisely one hour and thirty minutes.
They had a very narrow window to strip the Finance Minister's estate bare.