There was neither surprise nor joy on Xiahou Lian’s face. He stood there frowning, as if he preferred not to hear the abbot’s name.
“How is that possible?” an assassin asked. “Why would the abbot and Xiahou Pei want to have a child? And why would the abbot ignore Xiahou Lian all these years?”
Uncle Duan sighed. “The abbot wouldn’t, but Xiahou Pei would. Over a decade ago, the abbot was quite handsome...”
The expression on each assassin’s face became complex. The abbot must have struggled to keep this secret shame concealed for so many years. No one dared to comment.
The Mahoraga played with his dagger, sneering. “I doubt the abbot ever meant to acknowledge this kid. Don’t forget, the abbot took Xiahou Lian’s twin brother, Chiyan, at birth. Supposedly, the abbot has been raising and teaching him diligently on Heimianfo Peak. Under his guidance, Chiyan has already mastered Qiye Garden’s saber techniques. Both boys are his sons, so why does he ignore one and pour all his effort into the other?”
“Maybe the abbot and the Garuda agreed to take a child each and go their separate ways,” someone suggested.
Twin brother? Xiahou Lian was shocked. He’d never known that he had a brother. He looked up to ask Qiu Ye about it, but the man’s grave expression forced Xiahou Lian to swallow his words.
“The abbot never intended on keeping him,” said the Mahoraga, “so I doubt he’ll care if we deal with him.”
Most of the assassins nodded in agreement. Xiahou Pei had always been eccentric and self-centered, and many in Qiye Garden disliked or held grudges against her. Now that they had a chance to punish her son, no one was keen on wasting it.
Still, someone asked, “But what if Xiahou Pei returns...?”
“I already told you, that woman’s probably dead—” the Mahoraga replied coldly.
Before he could finish, a long saber cut through the cold night air, shooting toward the Mahoraga’s head. The Mahoraga drew his blade quickly and deflected the attack. The saber spun in midair and landed in a slender hand.
Everyone turned to see a woman emerge from the darkness, her figure slender as a crane’s. Illuminated by the moonlight, her cheeks shone as brilliantly pink as roses, her lips were fire red, and her eyebrows were as sharp as blades. Despite its powerful aura of bloodlust, her face was breathtakingly beautiful.
The woman’s mouth curved into a provocative smile. “Who says I died in the Western Regions?”
Xiahou Lian’s eyes lit up. “Mother!” he shouted.
Everyone was stunned to see Xiahou Pei. She had disappeared into the Western Regions for three months, yet here she was, alive and well. Her return could mean only one thing: The Chakravarti had fallen at her hands. All eyes were drawn to the bulging, bloodstained snakeskin bag at her waist. There was no doubt that it contained the Chakravarti’s head.
The Chakravarti had killed three of the Garden’s top assassins yet had ultimately been slain by Xiahou Pei’s hand. Her skills with the saber were unmatched in the Garden, second only to those of the abbot.
Fear filled the Mahoraga’s eyes as he subtly stepped backward.
“Well, isn’t this unfortunate? I didn’t lose so much as an arm or a leg. I’m so sorry that I’ve come back unharmed and dashed your long-held hopes.” Xiahou Pei pulled Xiahou Lian to her side, her grin dangerous and mocking. Her smiles were always menacing; that sight alone filled others with trepidation.
Hiding his fear, the Mahoraga said coldly, “Xiahou Pei, your son let a young lady from the Xie family escape. Don’t assume being the strongest of the Eight Legions means you can just sweep this under the rug!”
The old man from earlier coughed. “A young master,” he corrected the Mahoraga.
Xiahou Pei shrugged. “Do you think I’m a coward, like you? I don’t need to sweep anything under the rug. Hey, Qiu Ye, what’s the Garden’s penalty for permitting escape?”
“According to the rules, Xiahou Lian should be executed,” Qiu Ye answered. “But in this case, I suspect the abbot might show some leniency.”
Xiahou Pei looked down at Xiahou Lian. “If you let him go, you must’ve paid that careful thought first, correct?”
Xiahou Lian nodded. “I did.”
“Then what do you want to do? Meekly accept your punishment or fight to the death? If you pick the first option, I’ll take you back to the mountain. If you pick the second, I’ll kill everyone here, and we’ll go on the run together.”
Even Xiahou Lian was stunned by his mother’s boldness. He knew she was powerful—but to the point of taking on twenty top Garden assassins?
The assassins all erupted at once. They pointed at Xiahou Pei, shouting. “Xiahou Pei, you’re so arrogant! Even if you could kill us all, the Seven Fifteen you’ve taken will kill you sooner or later!”
“Then I’ll just live as long as I can. Why worry about the rest?” Xiahou Pei laughed, then asked Xiahou Lian, “So, what’s your choice, son?”
“Can you really beat them all?” Xiahou Lian asked suspiciously.
“Of course not, but my Xiao-Lian has grown up. He has a sweetheart! What’s her name again? Right—Xie Jinglan. What does she look like? Is she as pretty as Lady Liu?”
Xiahou Lian blushed with embarrassment. “Mother... Please don’t joke around.” Still, he couldn’t help thinking that Xie Jinglan was far more beautiful than someone like Lady Liu, who had to envelop herself in blush and powder.
“Ha ha ha! All right. Listen, son, do what you like—but you must bear the consequences of your choice. Whatever you decide, I’ll stand by you. Even if it costs me my life.” Xiahou Pei hugged Xiahou Lian, a radiance like that of stars in the night sky eclipsing the bloodlust in her eyes.
All Xiahou Lian’s anxiety vanished, and he swelled with courage. He now felt he could face anything. Wiping the dirt from his face, he took a deep breath.
All the assassins stepped back, then slowly began to slide their sabers from their scabbards.
Having worked with Xiahou Pei for years, every assassin knew that she was a madwoman. She always worked alone, refusing backup or support. New assassins admired her bravery, attributing it to an unshakable will to win. But those who’d known her longer understood that she was determined not to win but to die.
All people valued their lives, but Xiahou Pei feared neither life nor death. She considered the lives of her prey as trivial as an ant’s and regarded her own life the same way. That was how she had become Qiye Garden’s sharpest blade.
All the gathered assassins took her at her word. If Xiahou Lian chose to run, Xiahou Pei would draw her saber, the world-renowned Hengbo. Killing all the assassins might not be possible, but her skills could still ensure that more than a few of their number wouldn’t live to see the next day.
This madwoman, they cursed in their hearts. Madwoman!
Finally, Xiahou Lian spoke. “I’ll accept my punishment, Mother. Take me back to the mountain.”