Luan Wencheng turned too late, only able to watch as the dagger plunged into Feng Luan’s heart.
The Poison Elder’s face contorted in terror, his features tearing like a shattered painting, losing their usual composure and calm. "No!" he cried mournfully, reaching for the blade without a second thought.
His palm did not feel the expected pain. Nan Shiying grasped the Poison Elder’s wrist, keeping his hand a meter away from the blade.
The Poison Elder stared at her blankly, then his gaze shifted to her back.
The tip of the dagger had pierced her clothes, but no blood flowed.
Nan Shiying took a step forward, and the dagger’s tip emerged fully from her garment. The dagger was not stained with a single drop of blood. The hand and arm that held the dagger remained in the same forward-thrusting position. Jin Yang was rigid as stone; the only parts of his body that could move were his eyeballs and the root of his tongue.
"How… how is this possible?"
Disbelief painted his face.
He had eaten and lived with them these past few days, so how could he have fallen prey?
Nan Shiying brushed some dust from her hem and took the dagger from his hand. Seeing Jin Yang’s astonished and fearful expression, a smile spread across her lips.
"You killed the owner of the tea stall."
She spoke lightly, "From the capital to Xiling Commandery, passing through Ghost Shackles Sect, you walked all the way with the heads of Ghost Shackles Sect members. And you entered the city safely?"
"Jin Yang?"
"If you possessed such capability, to retreat with such ease even under the siege of a hundred men, your name would have been renowned long ago. How could you still be an unknown nobody?"
"It was only, only for one head…"
Jin Yang’s eyes bulged with fury.
Nan Shiying shook her head, "Of course not! If you hadn't acted, you naturally wouldn't have been affected. You ate and lived with us these days, so you naturally took the antidote. However, that antidote could also be converted into poison. Everything is up to me, isn't it?"
Jin Yang opened his mouth, but before he could say anything else, he followed the assassin’s fate, dissolving into a pool of blood under everyone's gaze.
The final crisis averted, Luan Wencheng finally exhaled the breath he had been holding. As his nerves relaxed, his legs gave way, and he sank to the ground.
His injuries were secondary; he was merely exhausted.
Though Feng Luan had been the one to decide the outcome in the battle against the hundred men today, being able to fight his way out unscathed was an accomplishment worth boasting about for a lifetime.
The shopkeeper, who had been hiding in the back, heard the fighting in the main hall subside. He peeked out from behind the curtain and saw everyone standing amidst the ruins, his worried heart finally settling.
"My esteemed guests, are you all right?"
He ran out, carefully avoiding the puddles of what seemed like continuous wastewater underfoot. Thinking of the day's losses made his back teeth ache. He hoped to extort some compensation from these 'culprits' to console his wounded spirit.
Seeing the shopkeeper's heartbroken expression, the Poison Elder couldn't help but tut. He had emerged unscathed from today's assassination; his luck was truly remarkable.
"We are fine!"
Nan Shiying waved her hand. Under the shopkeeper's eager gaze, she said the words he most wanted to hear, "Don't worry, shopkeeper, we will compensate the inn for its losses… If it's convenient now, could you fetch us some hot water?"
"Convenient, very convenient!"
Hearing that they were willing to pay, the shopkeeper's face lit up with joy, and he nodded repeatedly.
It was just boiling water; the backyard had not been much affected.
Picking up a table with all four legs intact, Nan Shiying tossed the hemostatic powder to Luan Wencheng. After the water was boiled, the shopkeeper brought the kettle out directly and placed it on the table. Seeing the stains on the floor, he turned and went back to the backyard to get a mop.
Luan Wencheng cleaned the wound on his neck and then evenly applied the hemostatic powder. The bleeding immediately stopped. He himself was not seriously injured. The most severely wounded person present had his abdomen pierced by a sword, but no internal organs were affected. Nan Shiying drew out silver needles to stop his bleeding and sewed two stitches before letting Luan Wencheng apply the medicine and bandage it.
The shopkeeper carried the water bucket and mop, vigorously wiping away the stains on the floor.
After sending his most injured subordinate back to his room to rest, Luan Wencheng returned. He glanced at the shopkeeper, who was bent over and kneeling, wiping away the stains.
Did the sun rise from the west today? He was wiping the floor himself before the waiter even started work?
Seeing Luan Wencheng come down, Nan Shiying slightly raised her eyelids.
"Not resting?"
She asked.
Luan Wencheng replied, "I can't sleep!"
"Why?"
Luan Wencheng looked at her but did not explain the reason for his insomnia. Instead, he finally asked the question that had been weighing on his mind, "What exactly are you waiting for?"
Before, she waited for this assassination. But now?
Ghost Shackles Sect had met a crushing defeat, and she had achieved a great victory. Why was she still waiting?
Nan Shiying meticulously wiped each finger with a damp handkerchief. Hearing Luan Wencheng's question, she did not look up. Only the slight pause in her finger movements and a tingling sensation from her fingertips made her slowly lift her head.
"Clang~"
Luan Wencheng suddenly felt his hands weaken, all his strength seemingly drained away in an instant. His hand, resting on the edge of the table, uncontrollably slid down, hitting the edge of the stool beneath him.
A look of panic flashed across his face, and his body slid down, falling to the ground like a boneless shrimp.
The handkerchief in Nan Shiying's hand slipped, and she toppled towards the table.
"Clang~"
Another sound.
The shopkeeper threw the mop to the ground and slowly straightened his back.
Luan Wencheng's head rested against the leg of the stool. His gaze followed the sound. He saw the shopkeeper drop the mop and slowly stand up, finally understanding what had happened.
It was him!
That shopkeeper!
When did he make his move?
What about Feng Luan and the Poison Elder? Had they also been affected?
No, his brothers!
Luan Wencheng's heart tightened. He wanted to lift his head, but not only his neck, even his fingers couldn't move. He could only vaguely see the shopkeeper's approaching footsteps.
"Feng Luan, Divine Doctor Feng, how are you?"
He shouted hoarsely.
Though his body was numb, the root of his tongue could still move. His ears were ringing, and he didn't know how loudly he had shouted.
"Bang!"
A whip kick landed heavily on Luan Wencheng's stomach. Luan Wencheng doubled over in pain like a shrimp, and a rough curse landed from above his head, "So noisy!"
It was the shopkeeper's voice.
The shopkeeper walked to Nan Shiying's side, straightened her head, allowing Nan Shiying to face him directly.
"Divine Doctor Feng, how do you feel?"
He had shed his city slicker facade and timid demeanor, his eyes now carrying a shadow of darkness. He looked at Nan Shiying as if she were meat on a chopping block.
Footsteps sounded at the entrance. The departing black-clad figures returned, and two figures, one tall and one short, entered surrounded by dozens of black-clad men.
Seeing Nan Shiying's current state, Aunt Hong tore off her veil and laughed heartily.