“Grace like a swimming dragon, steps like the rushing wind.”
Granny Mu’s dance steps, though gentle and flowing, were laced with firmness and decisiveness.
They looked elegant but were anything but delicate—they were swift and efficient.
Especially when infused with spiritual energy, the movements became even more astonishingly quick.
Though the steps didn’t seem fast on the surface, they carried remarkable momentum.
At that critical moment, Lin Wuming fully synchronized his mind and body.
He weaved and stepped, tracing trigrams beneath his feet—until finally, the assassin’s sharp blade skimmed past his back, missing him by a hair’s breadth.
“Hsss—!”
Lin Wuming drew in a sharp breath.
Even though he dodged the main strike, the surging true essence embedded in the blade still carved a deep gash across his back.
Blood immediately welled up, soaking through his robe.
While the black-clad assassin stood in stunned disbelief, Lin Wuming grit his teeth, released He Yingying from his grasp, and spun around mid-step to land a heavy kick on the assassin’s chest.
Then, wrapping an arm around He Yingying’s waist, he used the momentum to leap back, pulling her to safety and widening the gap.
His kick, of course, did little real damage.
But the assassin’s face darkened further—clearly irritated.
“Annoying brat… you’re really starting to get on my nerves.”
His patience was running out.
The longer this dragged on, the greater the risk of outside interference.
It was best to finish them both now and end the uncertainty.
Seething, he tossed aside the dagger, gathered a surge of true essence into his palm, and unleashed it in a devastating blow aimed at Lin Wuming.
A wave of power burst forth, like a collapsing mountain, sweeping toward them with overwhelming force.
Even though it was merely a simple outward blast of true essence, the might it carried was terrifying.
Lin Wuming watched in horror as the attack shattered everything in its path.
He had nowhere to run—his heart pounded with cold fear.
The gap between their cultivation realms was just too large.
This strike wasn’t just strong—it was fast, and the wall of essence filling the room made dodging impossible.
He Yingying clenched her jaw.
Her senior brother had spent all three of his mid-grade spirit stones to heal her wounds—not only curing her injuries but pushing her all the way to late-stage Qi Condensation.
He hadn’t even had time to advance his own cultivation.
And now that danger had arrived—how could she back down?!
Even if she had no hope of winning—even if it meant her life—she would never let that assassin hurt her senior brother!
Just as she gathered her spiritual energy to take the hit head-on, a sharp shout came from outside the window.
“Bold villain! Do not harm the young master!”
With the cry, a spiritual sword shot through the window, gleaming with lethal intent, heading straight for the assassin.
The assassin panicked and dodged, startled.
At that moment, a figure appeared in front of Lin Wuming—clad in a flowing pale blue dress, sleeves fluttering like an immortal descending from heaven.
She waved her hand casually, and that overwhelming blast of true essence vanished without a trace—as if it had never existed.
Another figure followed through the window and caught the flying sword in one hand.
“You two?!”
Lin Wuming stared, stunned, at the sword-wielding girl.
His eyes widened in disbelief.
These two were the master and servant duo he had run into several times before?
Liu Yingfeng turned to face him.
Seeing that he was more or less unharmed, she sighed with relief.
Then, brows slightly furrowed, she asked:
“Are you alright, young master?”
“I’m fine…”
Lin Wuming waved it off.
Though there was a wound on his back, it wasn’t fatal.
But what truly surprised him…
These two girls—especially the elegant young lady—were far from ordinary.
She exuded an otherworldly aura before, and now it turned out she was a powerful cultivator as well.
“My thanks to you both for saving my life. Quite the coincidence… this must be our fourth meeting, right?”
He recalled seeing them at the music tournament earlier—seated on the elevated platform.
He had assumed their noble appearance simply reflected their social status, but clearly, there was more than met the eye.
Liu Yingfeng didn’t respond directly.
To her, this was technically their fifth meeting.
“You needn’t dwell on it,” she said, shaking her head.
“If anything, we arrived too late and allowed you to be frightened.”
“That…”
Lin Wuming was puzzled.
“Why would you say that?”
Before she could respond, the black-clad assassin suddenly growled….
“Who are you people?! Why are you here?!”
He eyed Liu Yingfeng warily.
The maid was no big deal—Qi Condensation only—but the young mistress…
From the strike just now, she was at least Essence Return Realm.
“Hmph.”
Liu Yingfeng gave a cold snort.
“I should be the one asking you that. Why are you here? Don’t you know who I am?”
The assassin’s eyes widened.
He looked closely at her face—and suddenly, his pupils shrank and his breath caught.
“What… what are you talking about? I don’t understand!”
“Drop the act!”
Liu Yingfeng’s gaze turned icy.
“The Lin Clan may not be a top-tier family, but in Luoshui City, you’re still a known name. Why would you send someone to kill an innocent man?”
‘Lin Clan?!’
Lin Wuming’s eyes snapped to the assassin.
He was from the Lin Clan?
“Nonsense! What baseless accusations!”
The assassin’s face twisted with fury, and he suddenly lunged at Lin Wuming.
Liu Yingfeng might be strong, but she was only Essence Return Realm.
If he struck fast enough, maybe he could kill the boy before she could stop him!
Once he was dead, there’d be no evidence.
No one could prove Lin Wuming’s identity—and even if she tried, he could simply claim the boy was an enemy of the clan.
“You dare?!”
Liu Yingfeng’s face turned cold.
She hadn’t expected the assassin to make a move right under her nose.
Her hand shot out, unleashing a palm strike far more powerful than anything seen so far—swatting the man like a fly.
He slammed into the wall, then dropped to the floor in a heap.
Blood spilled from his mouth as he looked up at Liu Yingfeng in shock.
He was late-stage Essence Return—yet her cultivation was multiple levels above his!
‘Is this… the strength of a disciple from the Taixu Hall?’
Forget killing Lin Wuming.
It was no longer possible.
He had to escape—warn the clan, evacuate the city, flee before it was too late.
Otherwise, disaster would fall on the Lin family.
“Trying to run?”
Ling’er, the maid, saw his subtle movements.
Her spiritual sword flew from her hand, aimed at his left shoulder.
The assassin twisted his body to dodge—but instead of missing entirely, the blade struck his throat.
The spiritual sword, far sharper than any mundane weapon and met with no resistance—pierced straight through.
He gagged, managed two choking noises, then collapsed to the floor—dead.
Silent forever.