Three Steps: From Assassin to Empress - Chapter 52

Chapter 52: The Mask Slips (Plot Twist)

Ying Xiu walked forward with his head down, stumbling, not looking where he was going. He walked on like a lost soul.

It wasn’t until a sharp pain shot through his fingertips that his vacant eyes finally focused. He looked at his hand, where the shattered pieces of the glass lantern lay quietly in his palm.

The sharp edges of the shards glistened faintly, and several had already pierced his skin.

Even so, he didn’t put the pieces down. He stubbornly held the glittering fragments and walked on aimlessly.

The attendants along the way saw Ying Xiu leave the direction of the waterside pavilion, looking heartbroken. They suddenly noticed something was wrong and were about to go up and help him.

The golden-robed youth subconsciously stepped back two paces, his eyes becoming much clearer. “I’m leaving. Please tell the young master of this residence.”

The attendant was stunned for a moment but quickly composed himself. Without asking anything, he said in a polite and gentle tone, “Young master, would you like us to prepare a carriage for you?”

Ying Xiu didn’t say anything. He shook his head and, out of politeness, gave him a faint smile.

It was a very faint smile. His dark, moist eyes curved slightly, and the glimmer of tears within them shimmered along with the curve.

The next moment, the smile disappeared.

The youth turned and left without hesitation. His things were already packed, ready for him to take and go.

His satchel was light and contained nothing of value. Ying Xiu had his sword strapped to his back. With one hand, he held the satchel. Dressed in black, he walked out of the retainer’s residence.

Those beautiful, jingling clothes did not belong to him. He didn’t take a single one.

Out of selfishness, Ying Xiu took one thing: a golden hair ribbon that Xie Zhou had given him.

He remembered that in the cramped carriage, he lay in the retainer’s arms, who used the ribbon to tie his hair. His hands were like a comb, and he gently combed his long hair, stroke by stroke.

He tucked the ribbon safely into his sleeve. Ying Xiu walked alone on the dark, lightless street. The hanging lanterns along the way illuminated his slender figure.

A dark shadow flapped its wings and landed on his shoulder. The person and the bird walked forward in silence.

Behind him, the vermillion gates of the residence did not close. The two doors were wide open. Attendants held lanterns on either side, silently watching the figure that was slowly disappearing into the distance.

…

The Assassination Attempt

He didn’t know how long he had walked. Ying Xiu slipped into a narrow alley. In a deserted area, he used his light-foot technique to fly onto the eaves. As he walked, he took out his mask from his satchel and put it on.

The assassins he was with were already waiting outside the palace gates. Their leader made a small gesture, and the assassins lowered their bodies, quickly sneaking into the forbidden palace.

Ying Xiu was the youngest and most skilled assassin in the group, so he was designated as the main attacker.

The others were responsible for attracting fire and distracting the Imperial Guard on duty that night.

The time was not yet right. Ying Xiu chose a secluded palace to sit in. The night wind blew, occasionally rustling the hair at his temples.

He waited patiently, counting silently in his heart, “one breath, two breaths…”

His superior had said that they had gone to great lengths to uncover a secret: the current emperor had a chronic illness that would act up when it got cold.

It was the end of winter, and as expected, there would be a snow tonight, the last winter snow of the twelfth year of the Yongning era.

The cold wind swept up the clouds, making the assassins’ black robes flutter. A blanket of scattered jade pieces fell from the sky.

It’s snowing.

For no reason, a thought flashed through Ying Xiu’s mind—

Will Xie Zhou be cold?

It’s snowing so heavily. Will he be cold?

The Heart-Seeking Sword was unsheathed. The clean, sharp blade reflected the young assassin’s messy hair in the long wind, soft as silk, fluttering as if it would fly away with the wind.

Above that were his tightly pressed lips and his calm, clear eyes.

After an unknown amount of time, a whistle was heard from a distance.

Ying Xiu no longer hesitated. He wiped the snow off the sword. A layer of cold frost, chilling and eerie, was on his fingertips.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony, the emperor’s sleeping quarters.

Swords and blades clashed wildly. The strong winds knocked over the candle flames, making them flicker and dim.

Ying Xiu couldn’t remember how many guards he had wounded, nor how many times he had been hit. The other assassins were suffering heavy casualties.

Bl00d flowed into his eyes. He couldn’t tell whose it was. It could be his companion’s, the guards’, or his own.

His black robe was soaked with bl00d, and his sleeves were heavy, hindering his movements.

His sword was still as fast as ever. He was just waiting for the young tyrant to appear. According to the original plan, someone was supposed to scout the emperor’s whereabouts. When the emperor appeared, the assassination would begin.

But now, a full fifteen minutes had passed, and there was still no sign of the emperor…

In a flash of lightning, Ying Xiu understood everything. The emperor had long known they were coming to assassinate him and had set up an ambush to kill them.

Bang!

The sword and the blade collided violently.

Ying Xiu swung his sword to block an attack and shouted quickly, “Retreat!”

The other assassins shook their heads bleakly. “We can’t get out.”

From the very beginning, no matter if they succeeded or failed, they only had one outcome.

That was death, whether it was in the forbidden palace or on the way back.

A cold light came toward him. Ying Xiu parried it with his sword. Before he could raise his sword again, a cold flash shot out from outside the hall, piercing the neck of an assassin.

Red, a bright, eerie red, gushed out.

His vision was blurry, and everything was dark, as if a beautiful mist had fallen over him.

Ying Xiu had no time to wipe away the bl00d in front of his eyes. He blinked, held his sword, and continued to move through the mist.

Outside the hall, the Imperial Guards were holding arrows. Dressed in cold armor, they looked like the Yama of hell, densely packed and standing in the darkness.

The situation was like trapping a turtle in a jar, and they were the trapped turtles.

Fortunately, the Hall of Supreme Harmony was very big, big enough for him and his remaining companions to find a place to hide.

Ying Xiu crouched in a corner, clutching the Heart-Seeking Sword in his hand. His hair was soaked with bl00d, hanging wetly over his clear brow bones.

His black sleeve felt heavy, as if something was missing. Ying Xiu cautiously lifted his sleeve and found that the hair ribbon inside was gone.

He held his breath and looked around, spotting a glint of gold not far away. The hair ribbon lay alone on the palace floor, stained with someone’s bl00d.

The distance wasn’t great, and it was dead silent all around. The Imperial Guards outside the hall made no sound. It was dark inside the hall, making it difficult to see.

Ying Xiu reached out his finger to get the ribbon. He lowered his head, barely managing to hook it. Something round came rolling toward him from a distance.

He held the ribbon and subconsciously glanced at it from the corner of his eye. It was a head, an assassin’s head.

Ying Xiu recognized the person. It was his superior.

His superior’s face had an expression he had never seen before. He looked terrified, his features twisted. His eyes were full of fear, as if he had seen the most terrifying thing in his life.

Puff.

The glass lanterns in the hall instantly lit up. The bright lights, every single one of them, illuminated the young assassin’s trail.

Under the brilliant glass lanterns in the hall, his whereabouts were completely exposed.

A net from heaven and a trap from earth; there was nowhere to run.

Ying Xiu clutched the ribbon in his hand. His other hand held his sword, and his wrist trembled slightly.

On the ground, his superior’s head was still looking at him with a look of utter terror.

Not far away, someone was walking toward him unhurriedly. Their footsteps were not muffled, nor were they deliberately heavy. Amidst the bl00d in the hall, they were calm and light, as if they were taking a leisurely stroll.

One step, two steps…

Ying Xiu could hear every step with abnormal clarity. The heart in his chest was beating faster and faster, as if it would splatter bl00d and fall apart in the next moment.

Just like a firework, when it reaches its peak, it splits into long pieces.

For some reason, with death so close, Ying Xiu thought of the fireworks he and Xie Zhou had seen on the Winter Solstice Festival.

How beautiful they were. A vast sea of bright lanterns, and light that changed the nine heavens.

The white-robed retainer stood by his side, just a few feet away, holding the snow lantern he had given him. In the sea of people, he was only looking at him.

Lanterns, fireworks, a white robe, a retainer…

They all vanished in a flash, leaving only the dazzling glass lanterns in front of him.

The Hall of Supreme Harmony beneath his feet was like a huge, solemn, and terrifying monster, quietly waiting to swallow him whole.

The footsteps gradually came closer.

Just as they were passing his hiding place, they suddenly stopped.

…Who is it?

The Imperial Guard? The Emperor?

His nerves were as tense as a string about to snap. Ying Xiu finally remembered what he had forgotten. He took off his mask, raised his sword, and held it to his face—

“Ying Xiu.”

A gentle, familiar voice came from above his head.

The sword trembled slightly. The young assassin looked up and saw the tyrant looking down at him.

The nine-dragon imperial robes, the cool crown and headwear, and beneath the dark imperial tassels were familiar features.

In the moment their eyes met, Ying Xiu’s heart stopped. His mind suddenly buzzed. He lost all his strength and almost couldn’t hold his sword.

The ruthless monarch from the legends looked exactly like the retainer.

The young assassin’s face was full of shock. His pitch-black hair was a mess. He was half-kneeling on the ground, his eyes reflecting the man’s shadow.

Shocked. A mess.

He looked so pitiful.

Ying Xiu was completely unaware of how pathetic he looked. His entire body was soaked in bl00d. His superior’s head was beside him. His thoughts were a mess, as if they had been crushed and ground into ashes.

Everything in front of him was so bizarre and strange. The retainer, the emperor, Xie Zhou, the Yin family… these two names kept being replayed and torn apart in his mind…

A cold river, a lone moon. A white-robed youth stood, holding an instrument:

“Xie Zhou, a healthy person.”

Xie Zhou, a native of Jiankang, a retainer of the Xie clan of Jianzhang.

Wrong. Wrong…

Xie Zhou never said he was a retainer of the Xie clan of Jianzhang.

Ying Xiu trembled, slowly lowering his head. He was shaking so badly that even his slender neck trembled slightly.

His memories kept replaying.

“What is your purpose?”

“You must use the things I give you… understand?”

“Why would you need to get the records from the延尉 prison on your own?”

“Be careful on your way.”

…

“The books say we do all these things: eating together, sleeping together, practicing together… Am I, are we, partners?”

—”You and him are not. Only you and I are partners.”

“Xie Zhou, I like you.”

—”Mhm, I know.”

One line after another from the past kept appearing, messy and tangled, whipping at Ying Xiu’s heart like a lash.

The youth lowered his head, trembling.

The handsome and ruthless young tyrant bent down, reached out, and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at his face. His voice was calm and eerie:

“You have two choices.”

…

What choices will Xie Zhou, the Emperor, give Ying Xiu?