At the laurel treetops, the Ma family mansion in west Ye City glowed with brilliant lights, its opulent architecture exuding grandeur.
Two majestic stone lion statues guarded the entrance, chilling onlookers from afar.
The mansion’s perimeter was patrolled day and night by saber-wielding guards.
Over a hundred Gathering Spirit Realm thugs and dozens of Radiant Sun Realm experts made it resemble a small military camp.
From its depths came the sound of strings and flutes, mingled with the coquettish giggles of maidens.
Though far from a noble clan, the Ma family wielded wealth, built on underground gambling dens. Its patriarch, Ma Lingyun, once a bandit, thrived on kidnapping merchants for ransom.
When the Yanxia Dynasty unified the realm and cracked down on bandits, Ma Lingyun’s kidnapping ventures faltered, so he turned to smuggling salt.
The Ma family’s rise came recently. Ma Lingyun spent heavily to befriend General Guide Zhang Ji’s second son, Zhang Hongyuan.
Raised strictly, Zhang Hongyuan had never seen such decadence and quickly succumbed to silver and beauties.
Backed by General Guide’s name, all Ye City factions—save the Wei King’s Mansion—gave the Ma family face. Riding this wave, Ma Lingyun legitimized his ventures.
Casinos, brothels, and money houses brought immense profit. Had the Bronze Sparrow Chamber not crushed half his businesses, Ma Lingyun might’ve dominated Ye City’s commerce.
He once schemed against the chamber, only to lose a pinky to Purple Plume Pavilion’s top assassin, nearly dying.
A severed finger wasn’t easily forgotten!
So, he smoothly knelt and begged forgiveness.
The martial world wasn’t just fighting—it was connections and stories. When it was time to yield, you yielded, or you wouldn’t know how you died.
Amid drifting leaves, in a dark alley opposite the Ma mansion.
In night gear, Ji Qingyan hid in the shadows, observing the guards’ movements, her phoenix eyes tinged with worry.
“The mansion’s heavily guarded. Sneaking in’s the only way,” she said.
Ji Yanqing nodded, whispering, “I’ve got three ways to infiltrate and find the black iron.”
“What are they?” Ji Qingyan asked, curious, realizing the rogue Heir could be reliable at times.
“The Ma mansion’s walls are high and thick, but there’s a dog hole by the south wall, reeking. No one would spot us crawling through,” Ji Yanqing said confidently.
In the original story, the protagonist used this to evade guards and find the iron—the only way to clear the stage.
“No way!” Ji Qingyan shook her head, vehemently protesting. A heroine crawling through a dog hole? Too humiliating.
There were other options, after all.
“In that case…” Ji Yanqing’s mind stirred, and his bladeless black sword appeared in hand.
His soul weapon, summoned at will.
“Kill all the guards, and no one will spot us. Perfect stealth. Plan approved!” he said, eyes sharp as blades, grinning wickedly.
“Are you insane? That’d draw the authorities!” Ji Qingyan snapped.
“So, I recommend the third method,” he replied.
If too much commotion drew officials, why not send the authorities to raid the Ma family? Problem solved.
The protagonist had his ways; as a “yellow-haired villain,” Ji Yanqing had his.
Stepping from the alley, under the cold moonlight, his cloud-patterned, four-clawed white python robe gleamed with elegance. His fingers peeled off his mask, revealing a face devastating enough to topple nations.
A sharp whistle.
Torches flared around them. Three hundred Tiger-Wolf Riders thundered in, their black formation shaking the ground, instantly surrounding the Ma mansion.
In the guards’ terrified gazes, a silver-armored young general dismounted, bowing. “Your subordinate, Guoyi Lieutenant Zhang Zhaoyuan (fifth rank), greets the Heir!”
“Rise. This concerns your family—take a look,” Ji Yanqing said.
Zhang Zhaoyuan, puzzled, stood. His brother was arrogant, spoiled, and greedy, but surely not a criminal… right?
Well, he wasn’t so sure now.
Ji Yanqing approached the gate, pulling an invitation from his sleeve and handing it to the trembling gatekeeper.
Before taking it, the gatekeeper dropped to his knees, kowtowing thrice. “Your Highness, the Ma family’s evildoings have long irked me. I’m ready to turn against them and expose their crimes!”
Ji Yanqing nodded slightly, stepping through the main gate with the Tiger-Wolf Riders, his stride leisurely.
“Heroine Ji, keep up, or I’ll find the black iron myself,” he called.
Snapping out of her daze, Ji Qingyan hurried to his side, her jade-like face flushed with charm.
If she’d known so many would “infiltrate” the Ma mansion, she’d have crawled through the dog hole. Now she felt like Ji Yanqing’s lackey.
By her martial heroine code, heroes naturally opposed officials. Unless the nation was at stake, collaborating with court hounds could tank her reputation.
Though being tamed by the Wei King’s Heir had already plummeted her martial fame into the negatives.
Humiliation upon humiliation!
She’d remember this grudge. One day, she’d make Ji Yanqing lead her horse and clean her sword, enslaved forever.
Ji Qingyan vowed silently.
The Ma mansion sprawled vast, with rock gardens, streams, and pavilions, rivaling a third of the Wei King’s Mansion.
In the rear hall, a lute played softly. In flickering light, rouge scented the air as scantily clad Western Region dancers swayed sensually, igniting desire.
Two comely maids flanked Zhang Hongyuan, their virgin fragrance teasing his nose, his desires barely contained. His rough hands slid up their waists, eager to knead those snowy peaks.
A loud crash came from outside.
Wine cups spilled onto a maid’s undergarments, revealing tender skin. The lute stopped, and the dancers froze.
Zhang Hongyuan frowned, annoyed. “What’re you all standing there for? Play on, dance on!”
The dancers hurriedly resumed.
The Ma father and son exchanged glances. Ma Yang, legs crippled, drained his wine. “Big Brother Zhang, something’s off. Should we send someone to check?”
“What’s there to fear? My father’s General Guide Zhang Ji,” he said, slightly drunk. “My brother… Zhang Zhaoyuan, the Heir’s confidant, a young Guoyi Lieutenant.”
“In Ye City, even the King of Heaven gives me, Zhang Hongyuan, respect!”
His words barely landed when—
Boom!
A silver spear-wielding young general stormed in, eyes blazing, and smashed a fist into his wayward brother’s face.
“You bastard! Do you know who I am?!”