Chapter Twenty-Three: Ascending the Mountain

Xia Ling lounged on the bed, dressed in casual shorts and a yellow T-shirt, her long, slender legs drawing all attention as the sunlight brazenly spilled across their fair skin. She relished the sensation.

“First blood!”

“Ah! I got first-blooded. Damn you, Han Xin, how dare you kill me!” Xia Ling’s face showed a hint of anger, but she kept her eyes glued to her phone, unwilling to concede defeat. That stubbornness, so typical of a spirited girl, was enough to enchant many boys.

Her fingers danced quickly across the phone’s screen, but suddenly she stopped and tossed the device aside.

“It was bound to happen sooner or later.”

She gazed out the window, not the least bit anxious—instead, she seemed almost serene.

Suddenly, two shadows flitted by, and a pair of masked, black-clad figures appeared at the foot of her bed.

“‘West’ and ‘Water’?” The Enchantress spoke coolly.

“You remember us?” Though Xia Ling was much younger than they, the title “Enchantress” stood above even their master, “The Scholar.” They addressed her with deep respect.

“Your master is certainly generous—sending two of his four top assassins just to deal with a cripple like me. Even though I’ve been hiding my tracks, he’s still managed to find me. No wonder ‘The Scholar’ is ranked second on the assassin’s list.” The Enchantress smiled faintly. At the sight of the two, she knew at once that The Scholar wanted her dead.

“Enchantress, we’re only following orders,” the two assassins replied, courteous despite their profession.

“Don’t assassins usually strike at night?” The Enchantress rose from the bed with ease, her voice light.

“Our master ordered us to avoid Ye Feng when we made our move,” West answered honestly.

“The Scholar is as cautious as ever,” Xia Ling said with a bitter smile. “My life isn’t worth much, but it’s a pity I never managed to kill ‘Xingtian’—never avenged my sister.”

At the mention of Xingtian, both assassins involuntarily trembled.

“We deeply admire your courage in facing Xingtian, Enchantress,” one said. “But according to our intelligence, your abilities are gone. Our master has sent us to take your life.”

Xia Ling stared at the two. She knew her own condition, and she knew The Scholar all too well. With both West and Water sent after her, she realized escape was impossible. In her current state, she was no match for them.

“Our master sent us with the ‘Divine Poison,’” one assassin said, producing a pill. “Shall we give it to you, or will you take it yourself?”

“The ‘Divine Poison’—