You could hear the raindrops hitting the umbrella.
A thoroughly soaked Bian Weikang turned his head and saw a woman walking with an umbrella, holding a piece of sandalwood gold.
Her cloak and the hem of her skirt were wet from the rain.
He recognized her at a glance and when she got closer, confirming his intuition—there was no mistaking that irresistible face—it was indeed Xiang Lan'er.
His heart instantly filled with warmth, and he quickly said, "Why did you come here? The rain is too heavy, quickly go back."
Xiang Lan'er moved the umbrella over his head, letting herself get drenched by the rain, and reached out to support him, "My dear, it’s fine. We don't need to rely on anyone; we can live on our own."
Moved by her gesture, Bian Weikang felt a pang in his heart.
He didn’t want her to suffer with him.
Even one more day of hardship was his wrongdoing, so he brushed off her support, "A son kneeling before his parents is only natural. It's okay, you go back first, quickly go back, be good!"
Seeing his determination, Xiang Lan'er put away the umbrella, letting the rain pour, and knelt down beside him, side by side.
Bian Weikang exclaimed, "What are you doing? Get up."
He reached for her arm, trying to pull her up.
Xiang Lan'er shook off his help, "I cannot watch you suffer alone. We are one. If you kneel, I kneel with you."
Hearing this, Bian Weikang’s lips trembled with emotion, deeply touched by her.
Tears mixed with the rain as he suddenly shouted up the mountain, "Father, Mother, your son was wrong. I'm here to see you, sobbing..."
He banged his head against the steps, crying uncontrollably.
The two disciples guarding the mountain gate watched with a sigh but couldn't do anything.
The heavy rain slowly eased and lessened considerably.
On a street, several carts blocked both ends of the road, allowing people out but not in temporarily.
Once the street was cleared of pedestrians, a carriage began to move from one end to the other, neither too fast nor too slow.
As it neared the Peaceful Joy Pavilion, someone got off the back of the carriage and walked into the rain shelter under the eaves on the side of Peaceful Joy Pavilion.
Shi Chun and Wu Jinliang, their fascination with the city rain still fresh, continued to enjoy watching the changes brought by the drizzle or downpour.
Where raindrops mingled with lamplight, everything sparkled, creating a scene that was oddly satisfying to them.
"Hey, Brother Chun, the rain's easing off, yet it seems the street's devoid of people," Wu Jinliang remarked curiously, hiccuping from his drink, as he held a wine jar.
The inn waiter, who had been leaning against the door frame earlier, casually commented, "You gentlemen have such fine interest, why not have a couple of drinks to add to it."
So, the two decided to seize the night without waste, asking the waiter for a couple of jars of wine, placing a plate of crispy insect egg snacks on the bench between them—a delightful time unmatched compared to the Exile Lands.
But Wu Jinliang's words caught Shi Chun's attention.
He looked toward the ends of the street and just caught sight of a carriage approaching.
He gestured toward it with his wine jar, implying that wasn't there someone coming.
Wu Jinliang saw it too, chuckled with a boozy sigh, and reached for a salted crispy insect egg, popping it into his mouth, followed by a sip of wine—delicious and enjoyable.
As the carriage passed by Peaceful Joy Pavilion, it didn't stop.
But from the curtain, a scarred hand reached out.
Both men noticed this continuously, but before they could react, two yellow shadows were flung toward them.
Having experienced something like this before, even without seeing clearly what the yellow shadows were, it instantly brought to mind the Immobilization Talisman.
The tipsy sensation scattered instantly, and they instinctively tried to dodge.
But their attacker was too close, making escape impossible.
It was, just as feared, an Immobilization Talisman.
Recognizing the familiar paralytic feeling, Wu Jinliang inwardly cursed.
They were being targeted with Immobilization Talismans again!
They couldn't understand why in the world, even outside the Exile Lands, their meager cultivation warranted such costly talismans.
Their lives probably weren't worth even a single talisman's cost.
Even the victims themselves felt it was overkill to use such an expensive item against them.
Just as their buttocks barely lifted off the bench, they were frozen in place, stuck where they sat.
The world, once full of sparkling lights, turned suddenly menacing in their eyes.
The carriage smoothly drove past them without a hitch, the hand that stretched out quickly retracted, as if nothing happened.
The inn's waiter, an idle observer, noticed nothing amiss and went back to perusing a book full of racy illustrations.
Soon, a quick-moving figure approached Peaceful Joy Pavilion, a dagger slipped into his hand from his sleeve.
As the person neared Shi Chun and Wu Jinliang, the dagger lifted, its tip just parallel with Shi Chun's neck.
The assassin felt a predatory thrill before the kill, the next steps flashing in his mind: slit the throats of these two targets, then rush to the carriage ahead, diving in to speed away.
The carts that blocked the road would disperse, vanishing into the rainy night.
Even if their throats were slit, immobilized as they were, the pair couldn’t struggle, leaving them sitting there quietly as death came.
This was, after all, a city, a large gathering place governed by rules, so an overt act would be unwise.
The assassination plan had been set with prior investigation of the scene.
Those two immobilization talismans weren’t low-grade, quite pricey, making this an assassination with no trivial expense.
But there was no choice; when the order came from above, it came without providing the targets’ precise levels of cultivation.
Not everyone had the power like those of Feng Chi to casually probe the Exile Lands and learn the two's strengths.
Shi Chun and Wu Jinliang had only just returned from exile, releasing little information outside; people couldn’t quickly attain their strength accurately.
It was known they were just free from the Exile Lands, logically at most of the Initial Martial Realm, but who could guarantee there were no surprises?
They had to eliminate the two without a stir and, not knowing their strength, relied on the talismans.
Thus, came this meticulously crafted assassination.
While the assassin acted yet remained alert for observers, sudden wariness struck as his target seemed to move.
Instinctively, he thought, "How's that possible?"
Realization struck him as his wrist was suddenly gripped.
Shocked, as he attempted to cast a spell to escape, an intense pain shot up his chest side, his inner force suddenly deflating like a punctured balloon.
Turning sharply to look, he saw his wrist was indeed clutched by the primary target, a blade now mercilessly embedded in his chest.
The target acted with ruthless decisiveness, filling him with fear.
Why not catch a live one to question? he thought amid despair.
He knew it was over for him.
Actually, Shi Chun wasn’t holding a dagger but a short sword, though the size didn’t differ much.
It was the one he always kept on him, something he used to tuck against his thigh when in the Exile Lands.
Out here, where wearing pants most of the time required untangling his belt to access, he tucked it into his sleeve instead, handy for situations.
The assassin failed to discern it was a sword because Shi Chun’s blade, save for the hilt, was shoved entirely into the assassin’s side.
"Get lost, old man!" a shout from Wu Jinliang, who leaped up almost simultaneously.
Tearing away the Immobilization Talisman, he grabbed his weapon, swinging it wide.
For guys like them, especially after leaving the Exile Lands, staying alert was essential, weapons always kept close by.
His large blade lay against his side, ready to use.
Swinging the cleaver-like sword, a veritable door-fan in size, the gust it caused could nearly sweep away someone, passing over Shi Chun's still-seated head.
The assassin was undoubtedly strong, his cultivation far exceeding theirs despite being mortally wounded and his inner strength waning.
With a deft twist, he shrugged free of Shi Chun’s grip.
But he couldn’t dodge Wu Jinliang’s indiscriminate swipe, the side of his face resounding with a thud, eyes closing as the blow landed solidly, hurling him into the street, a gush of blood spraying from his chest wound.
Against an ordinary person, such a blow would have smashed their skull, but this individual used magic to stave it off, merely staggering upon impact, covering his bleeding chest, eyes wide with fear, slipping on the slick, rainy ground as he tried to rise.
Wu Jinliang cursed his rushed strike; with more precision, he could have decapitated the foe.
This pair didn’t act unless provoked, but when they did, it was a past of kill or be killed—especially when the adversary was injured.
With their bloodthirstiness, letting the opponent go was never an option.
After his swing, Wu Jinliang leapt out, brandishing his sword while launching himself into the rain, preparing to slash down with fury, only to see the assassin weakly hurl a dagger.
He quickly ducked behind his blade, shielding himself entirely with it.
Clang—a sharp metallic sound pierced the air, his blade sparking against the impact.
Even wounded gravely, the assassin’s hurl had enough power to send Wu Jinliang, weapon and all, flying backwards.
But below, Shi Chun charged, blade drawn and ready.
Two brothers, one in the air, one on the ground, knowing their foe was formidable, yet unwilling to retreat, instead, breaking through the rain-soaked night, determined to fight to the death!