The flame burning in the oil lamp suddenly shivered. The Hongtian Palace was surrounded on all sides by walls, so why could wind penetrate into the room? It was a bad omen, but Mo Xi thought nothing of it. His smooth hands, more tender than a child’s, gently tapped against the edge of his table. The collision between finger and wood created a pleasant sound akin to a traveller traversing through countless mountains.

A male servant very respectfully poured a cup of tea, his actions practised. Suppressing his voice, he asked, “Master, Jing Wen is known to hold grudges. Are you sure it would be appropriate to do nothing at this moment?”

Lin’an was located in the South, where tea trees were in abundance, but Mo Xi only ever drank one type of tea, Fuzhuan (茯磚) tea produced in Hedong.

The tea leaves appeared to contain gold within, akin to dandelions scattered throughout a vast field. In the Great Zhu, people typically drank tea with the leaves in the cup, so as Mo Xi brought the porcelain to his mouth, it seemed as though he was drinking gold.

If one saw the vast sea every day, it would appear mundane in their eyes. Though Fuzhuan tea was very expensive, Mo Xi did not savour it much.

The cup was drunk slowly because it was too hot, but once it was emptied, Mo Xi’s actions were filled with haste. Without placing down the cup, Mo Xi stood up,

“It appears that a dog would always fight for its owner,” Mo Xi’s eyes contained ridicule, and he looked disdainfully outside the window as he spoke in a low voice, his index fingers holding the cup suddenly twitched.

There was a shadow beyond the window.

Like a cannon, the cup in Mo Xi’s hands was shot out. There was no sound contained in the cup, only deathly stillness. In less than a moment, it passed through the window and flew directly at where Gao Shu is.

The teacup was filled with Qi, which had been responsible for forcing Jing Wen into a sorry state. If anyone were to be hit by it, it would be no different than being pierced by an arrow. For Mo Xi’s seemingly casual flip to contain such forcefulness is truly frightening.

In the end, Mo Xi was more than thrice the age of Gao Shu. How could he dodge the incoming projectile? Unable to shift his body in time, the teacup crashed into his shoulders, cutting into the fabric.

Strangely, blood did not seep from the countless shards created upon the impact. There was only a dull thud.

Within the building, Mo Xi looked at the visitor clad in black, his eyebrows furrowing. He had a list of possible individuals, but there is simply too many that want him dead, leaving it impossible to pinpoint who this ‘visitor’ was.

“Such a talented martial artist at a tender age?” There was a smile that was not a smile on Mo Xi’s face. It was clear that this ‘guest’ had reached a formidable state, enough to earn a spot on the Xinqingnian.

Unfortunately, the Xinqingnian was only for youths and the experts from the previous generations were not included. No matter how talented he is, he is still a seed yet to sprout.

Silently, Mo Xi’s smile was gradually withdrawn. Without looking away from the lad before him, his sleeves whisked, and a dim sword suddenly appeared in his hand.

The still expression of Gao Shu finally changed at this moment, bearing a hint of pain from his unrecovered face. He raised his eyebrows and drew out the sword hanging by his waist.

“A sword from Fuliang (浮梁)?” Mo Xi was no longer amused, “You’re taking such lengths to hide your identity?”

Fuliang possessed the largest forge in the Empire. The weapons it produced were as far-flung as Anxi and Dayuan (大宛). To determine the owner of a sword from Fuliang was as a task no different from finding a needle in a haystack.

Having no option but to expose the ‘guest’ identity directly, Mo Xi gripped the sword in his hand, and his whole body began to slither along the floor, abruptly arriving before Gao Shu. He moved his dim and baneful sword toward Gao Shu’s face.

Gao Shu’s face, already indescribable from the scar, was absent of any panic, fear, or frenzy from the desperate situation. However, he was aware that he is unable to match Mo Xi, that he was dancing between the line of life and death.

Gao Shu made the decision quickly and decisively. He retreated a step back and brought the sword before his body, as if he was piercing his own shadow in half. The sword in his hand was a mass-produced sword, but a rock can become a bullet at high speeds. Precisely, the shift in posture contained the intention to deny the person the initiative.

But Mo Xi was not an ordinary person. He chuckled sinisterly and swiftly took action. His left hand emerged from his sleeves and aimed towards Gao Shu’s chest. Evading the point did not cause Mo Xi to lose his inertia, leaving the great force behind him to remain.

Gao Shu took another step back, straightening his body like an arrow on a string, he hacked down mercilessly with the stainless blade, the powerful force contained within his muscles burst with a wordless scream as they are pushed beyond their limits.

“So young yet so ruthless?” Mo Xi’s voice raised sharply. He retracted his palm, and retreated back, his body trembling as he forcibly brought a stop to his moment. With a yell, he forced open his cold eyes. It was brimming with hatred and seemed to be the only source of light in the remote.

There was no doubt that Mo Xi is planning to launch a power Qi attack.

Yet Gao Shu did not give him the opportunity. No different from a ghost, his silhouette faded as he turned back without hesitation and shot to the walls of Hongtian Palace, leaving behind not even trampled grass in his steps.

“Skilled at Qinggong as well?” A hint of shocked emerged in Mo Xi’s eyes. He did not call for the palace guards, rather, he shook his hands, causing his whole body to rocket foward, like a cumbered, massive swan goose leaving the water.

A moment later, both men were high up on the palace walls. Mo Xi stared amused at the man in dark clothing. He was interested in how the ‘guest’ would scale the fifteen meters high wall.

Gao Shu continued his dash toward the end of the palace walls without losing any speed, his feet appearing as though separate from the ground, drifting slightest above the path. The various leaf piles gathered on the stone remained unmoved, and from this one could see that there was great dexterity within those feet. His entire being appeared weightless, ascending the barrier with ease.

His feet scaled the walls, containing the inertia from his originally forward movement. Of course, this momentum was sure to be expended. Flinging his sleeves, a grappling hook emerged from deep within his cuffs, the iron hook placing itself firmly on the walls. Using the strength in his arm, he flung himself, his feet trampling against the summit, launching himself off the wall he scaled a moment ago.

Mo Xi cursed within his heart, realising his opponent had steered the entire battle. The Qi in his body was quickly released, and he floated over the palace walls, his posture callous due to his bitterness. Compared to Gao Shu’s professionalism, he emerged over these walls like a demon entering the human realm.

As he floated downward, his eyes were like a hawk, scanning over the night city scene methodically. The dark shadow glided over the tops of trees, floating past houses, the mask covering his face creating a soft wooshing sound, feeling akin to laughter to Mo Xi.

A cold gleam flashed through Mo Xi’s eyes as he chassed, expending his Qi with no reservation.

The term ‘blind rage’ truly applied in this scenario. As Mo Xi pitted himself against Gao Shu, he did not realise that there were fires raging in the Palace.

---

The was no snowfall on this night, but the air was still frigid, freezing the heart of the people in the Imperial Palace. The struggle between Mo Xi and Gao Shu was noticed by no one, or perhaps no one wanted to notice it. The Imperial Kitchen was considerably far from Hongtian Palace in the first place, so none of the servants bothered to check.

The people within the Palace Walls were not gluttons, but there were many in the Imperial Household that must be served. As such, the Imperial Kitchen was likely the busiest area within the Imperial Palace at night.

Eunuch Tie (帖) assigned to serve the Empress, but in reality, has never seen Her Majesty. His only job was to deliver bird nest soup to one of the Empress’s personal servants every night, yet walking through the frigid conditions of the palace at night was still a difficult matter.

He carefully held the porcelain bowl, using his thick sleeves to insulate his cold hand from the warmth of the soup. The bowl alone can afford him a hundred times over, so he dared not mishandle it.

There was an uncomfortable itch on his face, but Eunuch Tie couldn’t spare a hand. The itch had appeared when he saw one of the consorts entering the Imperial Kitchen; perhaps to cook some soup for His Majesty to gain his favour? Eunuch Tie knew this sort of thought would bring him harm in the Imperial Palace, and quickly got rid of it.

Suddenly, his skin frozen by the winter air became dry, and the fat beneath it began to burn.

The scene before his eyes also began to burn.

What a powerful fire!

The powerful fire rose from the bustling Imperial Kitchen and dissolved into countless fire spirits. It rose towards the sky, clouding the stars. The incredible heat accompanied the fire as it quickly began to spread in all directions.

Eunuch Tie’s eyes suddenly contracted, but the hands holding the bowl remained stable. The Imperial Kitchen was on fire, and judging from the origin of the smoke, it should be from the storage room, which is always protected from open flames. Someone must have started the fire intentionally, but who could have done it? Furthermore, what good does burning down the Imperial Kitchen do?

Eunuch Tie knew this was not the moment to investigate how the fire started, or who was the culprit. He had to inform the palace about the fire before it grows out of control… it was just that he was unable to bring himself to move from the spot, afraid that he would be accused of starting the fire.

Eunuch Tie remained in this state until a voice that seemed to have passed the fire yelled in a shrill but clear voice, “Fire!”