He suddenly felt that, despite seeming to possess much, he would still die all the same.

Chen Yi suppressed this thought and, with all his strength, pushed with his left hand. The sword's edge pierced through Wu Chang Ying's throat at the moment his unstoppable force waned after his strike.

Wu Chang Ying's burly body collapsed to the ground.

The two heads pursuing him had both met their deaths.

Chen Yi wanted to gasp for breath but was shocked to find his throat clogged with blood. He pressed his acupoints to stop the bleeding, but the savage wound still remained.

The jade pendant engraved with the word "Yi" swayed.

The man struggled to sheath his long blade, propped himself up with one hand against a tree trunk and held his sword with the other, stumbling over the hillside. The moonlight revealed a trail of blood—beautiful like blooming flowers, beautiful yet surreal...

"I can't die."

............

A new year, a new beginning. The swooshing fireworks enveloped the night, alternating between darkness and light.

Sparks fell bit by bit, spreading the joyful ambience of the new year—families reunited, peace and happiness...

But none of this had anything to do with Drunk Mountain.

Drunk Mountain was sealed off.

Under the night sky, shadows streaked back and forth; the rustling sounds of branches seemed never-ending. In such a night filled with gleaming blades and flashing swords, it felt as though blood could burst forth at any moment.

"The bodies of the heads have been found..."

"Both heads are dead—so ruthless, so savage."

"Wu Chang Ying's blade has blood on it. It's his, surely his. He's gravely injured; he can't have run far!"

The murmuring voices of the operatives buzzed like the hum of insects. Their sharp shadows elongated beneath the moonlight. The deep winter forest filled the air with a chilling unease.

The operatives who had come with the two heads began scouring the entire Drunk Mountain.

Shadows flickered everywhere.

With a sparse moon and scattered stars, the operatives fanned out to search.

One operative noticed a faint bloodstain on a tree trunk and gestured to his companion. The two climbed up the slope.

Soon, they vaguely spotted the edge of some clothing emerging from a crevice between rocks.

"We've found him!"

The words were scarcely spoken.

A flicker of black shadow flashed past, and the speaking operative's neck sprayed blood.

The other operative panicked and began running frantically with his knife raised, darting forward like a fleeing hare.

Suddenly, his mind went blank, his vision blackened, as if struck by something. Before he could comprehend, his head rolled on the ground.

A pale-faced man stepped out from the shadows of the trees and retrieved the clothing from the rock crevice.

Grabbing the garments, he heard the faint rustling of treetops and instantly spun around, striking out with his sword!

"Crack."

Only the sound of snapping branches.

He hadn't hit anything...

Chen Yi's senses came back to him, and he heard "whoosh-whoosh" noises.

Thinking they were arrows, he hastily raised his sword. When the brilliance of fireworks lit up his face, he realized they weren't arrows but fireworks.

For a fleeting moment, the dark mountain forest was illuminated.

Chen Yi curled his lips bitterly and pressed his savage wound. His stark white bones gleamed amidst mangled flesh.

Severely injured, losing too much blood, he could no longer discern whether the dark forms were shadows or figures, whether the swaying branches were leaves or the hum of swords...

Who could say if a falling leaf might transform into a blade and take his life?

Before Chen Yi could catch his breath, distant voices called out:

"Du Bing, Li Xu, where are you?"

The first lesson for Xique Pavilion assassins was abandoning their names. Names, after all, were nothing more than a form of code—easy for filekeeping, while fostering a sense of belonging to Xique Pavilion.

Upon hearing the voice, Chen Yi held his breath.

No one responded. The distance fell into a brief silence.

Chen Yi slowly shifted his body.

In the very next instant...

"Du Bing and Li Xu are dead—he's right there!"

The voice erupted, and the tree shadows swayed chaotically!

Like a pack of hyenas tearing through the mountain forest, closing in on their lone prey.

Chen Yi stepped forward, leaped high, gritted his teeth against the pain in his abdomen, weaving through the treetops.

The sound of wind, of branches, of startled birds fleeing in panic—all seemed to carry hidden arrows.

Whoosh!

The arrows truly came.

Cold light tore through the night sky, streaking toward Chen Yi.

Chen Yi abruptly tilted his head, narrowly dodging. The arrow slashed through his clothing, grazing his shoulder as it passed.

This arrow signaled that someone had already found him.

Chen Yi froze, his gaze darting like lightning, scanning the dense and eerie mountain forest. Finally, ten spans away, he spotted half an exposed hand behind a tree trunk.

Gritting his teeth, Chen Yi launched forward like an arrow.

The sword edge plunged, and the exposed hand flew into the air. Chen Yi met the terrified gaze of the operative and swept his sword sideways in a slash.

The cold gleam sliced through the night like it would tear the heavens apart, but the sweeping motion pulled hard against the wound on his chest. A torturous pain surged through him, causing his hand to tremble uncontrollably.

What should have been a throat-slitting strike plunged into the operative's chest cavity, where it became lodged.

The operative fell to the ground as Chen Yi gripped his sword with both hands, yanking it free, stabbing repeatedly—blood sprayed like flowers blooming—as clumsy as a child wielding a sword for the first time...

Yet in truth, with that very first slash, the operative had already lost his life.

"I hear something—over there!"

The voice came, carried by the cold wind. Chen Yi struggled to lift his body and leapt once more into the treetops.

The ground was now indistinguishable whether drenched in the operative's blood or his own.

The wound tore further, and Chen Yi wished he could simply succumb to sleep. He opened his mouth and murmured:

"I can't die here..."

He fought to flee once more, his figure shifting amidst the treetops.

Beneath the moonlight, the bloodstained scenery was illuminated. Neither hunter nor prey was given a moment to rest.

The wind howled mournfully as the black sea of trees on Drunk Mountain swayed, seemingly cleansing the blood on the forest floor.

Chen Yi initially utilized Qinggong to leap through the air, but his wounds couldn't endure such strain. Each movement brought a fresh wave of tearing pain. The acupuncture points he needed to press multiplied; half his body was already numb.

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