Chapter Nineteen: Drifting Silently into the Night

At night, the weather turned sharply cold. The howling wind masked the sounds of traffic outside, becoming the sole melody in the room apart from the television. Jiang An sat in the living room, a heap of photographs spread out on the table before him—various documents concerning the Qi family estate. As he studied them, a faint smile curled at his lips.

“Woof woof!”

The tiger crouched nearby twitched its ears and barked toward the door, ready to rush over, but Jiang An stopped it. “I know, a guest has arrived, hasn't he?” No sooner had he spoken than someone entered through the front door; only the sound of footsteps was heard, followed by the sight of a dark gun barrel, fitted with a silencer. A man appeared, wearing a black hood, of medium height and sturdy build, wrapped in a black trench coat that covered him entirely except for a pair of cold, indifferent eyes—eyes that held a ruthless disregard for life.

Jiang An made no move, merely glanced up at the intruder and shook his head with a smile. “You must be quite ugly, and the hood only makes it worse.”

The man, expecting Jiang An to raise his hands and tremble in fear, was surprised by his composure. The mocking remark stoked his anger; this hardened criminal, with more than a dozen lives on his hands, felt insulted. With a snort, he decided to teach Jiang An a lesson—to show him what it meant to kill without blinking. Without hesitation, he aimed his gun at the tiger.

Yet before the shot rang out, he suddenly found himself kneeling, his knees striking the floor with a painful thud. Terror and confusion flashed in his eyes; he had no idea why this was happening, only that a tremendous force pressed down on him, rendering him powerless.

Ghosts, perhaps?

Jiang An paid no mind to what the man was thinking. With a flick of his finger, he sent a gust of energy to immobilize the man's acupoints, releasing him with a glance. The tiger lunged forward eagerly, tearing off the hood to reveal the sallow face of a middle-aged man—plain-looking, his features twisted in agony as he stared daggers at Jiang An, teeth clenched.

This lackey had no chance to utter a word. Jiang An, unwilling to waste time, waved his hand, and several silver needles appeared on the man’s head, trembling slightly. A heavy drowsiness overwhelmed him, his eyes slowly closing as he slipped into a half-awake, half-asleep haze.

The Heart Inquiry Technique had a time limit. Jiang An got straight to the point: “Who sent you, and what is your purpose?”

Lost in hypnosis, the man obeyed, answering in a hoarse voice, “Liu Chengfeng’s subordinate sent me. The purpose is to capture you and take you to Liu Chengfeng…”

Liu Chengfeng? Alas, the same old tactics. Such methods were truly beneath him, Jiang An thought with disappointment. Suddenly, a whim struck him—a plan to surprise Liu Chengfeng. Retrieving the silver needles from the man’s head, Jiang An’s dreamy, beguiling gaze met the man's eyes, drawing him into a vortex that seemed to devour his soul. The man plunged helplessly into its depths.

Illusion Art: Night Lamp!

The Heart Inquiry Technique could only compel answers, but to manipulate a person's actions required authentic sorcery. The Night Lamp was one of two illusion arts Jiang An had mastered. Though his power was currently weak, it sufficed against an ordinary person. He chuckled inwardly—tomorrow, Liu Chengfeng would find himself in dire straits, his reputation in ruins.

A few minutes later, the man, hood still on, walked out of Jiang An’s house as if nothing had happened, skillfully avoiding passersby and surveillance, disappearing beyond the neighborhood.

Two hours later, on the other side of Lin City, in the Qingxiu Lake villa district.

This was the most exclusive residential area in Lin City. Wealth alone was not enough to live here; those with mere billions could not even dream of it. This was what the circles called “the land of nobles”—nobles with money, power, and lineage.

Any villa in Qingxiu Lake cost at least tens of millions. In the southeast corner, an artificial river encircled a cluster of over a dozen buildings, creating an enclave within an enclave, encompassing green hills and clear waters, pavilions and gardens, artfully arranged, uniquely beautiful, grand yet poetic—a place that captivated the soul.

To enter this earthly paradise was a blessing few would ever know. Yet, for those who lived on the wrong side of the law, it was a den of dragons and tigers, a place from which none returned, for here resided the Qi family—an illustrious clan of scholars and officials, the preeminent household of Lin City and the Eastern Province.

It was already late. As usual, Qi Zhenghui, the nearly seventy-year-old head of the Qi family, had gone to bed. The lives of the elderly follow a certain rhythm, and despite the chill wind outside, he slept soundly on his soft mattress.

Whoosh—

Damn it, a gust of cold wind suddenly woke him, making him angry. Before he could press the bedside bell to summon someone, a chill invaded his mind, sending a shiver through him. He suddenly realized: if wind had entered, the window must be open. The steward always checked everything before bedtime—such oversight was impossible. Someone had entered!

Years of hard-earned experience quickly steadied him. He sat up, knowing that a reach would let him press the bell and have a crowd rush in to protect him. But he dared not—anyone who could slip past all the guards and enter his room unnoticed was a master, a deadly master.

“A guest has arrived. Why not come out and meet me?” Qi Zhenghui maintained the composure of a family patriarch, speaking politely to the shadow by the window.

“Apologies for coming uninvited. Qi Patriarch, you may turn on the light. I will not act rashly.”

Sure enough, a voice echoed from the shadows—ethereal and uncertain, neither near nor far, impossible to distinguish male from female, eerie in its quality.

Click.

Qi Zhenghui’s heart skipped a beat as he switched on the bedside lamp. Light flooded most of the room, revealing a strange figure standing quietly nearby. Strange, because the visitor wore a raincoat-like black cloak, concealing him from head to toe, with a hood over his head and a mask on his face—a plain white mask without any markings, cold and emotionless in the dim glow.

The only visible feature was the gaze behind the mask—indifferent, neither joyful nor sorrowful.

The visitor was none other than Jiang An.

This attire startled Qi Zhenghui, reminding him of a certain legend. He couldn't help but ask, “Are you from the Dynasty?”

“Oh? What makes you think so?”

“There are rumors that the Dynasty organization is shrouded in mystery. It is known to have six assassins: Liu Han, Li Tang, Zhao Song, Meng Yuan, Zhu Ming, and Man Qing. Whenever they carry out missions, they wear cloaks and masks…” Qi Zhenghui recalled more details, then shook his head and corrected himself, “No, you’re not one of them! First, your mask bears no characters. Second, from what I’ve heard, the Dynasty organization provoked the National Guardian Villa by assassinating a foreign dignitary half a year ago, causing diplomatic trouble. The Villa sent two enforcers to exterminate them; a few key members died, and now they’re in hiding—unlikely to accept any assignments at present!”

Dynasty organization? National Guardian Villa? Enforcers? Jiang An knew nothing of these intelligence reports, but listened with keen interest. No wonder the patriarch of a great family had such knowledge—ordinary people would never hear these secrets.

“Correct, I am not from the Dynasty. You may guess again.”

Qi Zhenghui grew even more curious. Since the visitor hadn't harmed him immediately, he was content to stall for time. After some thought, he said, “Ah, then perhaps you’re sent by the noble Shen family from the East Marquis clan?”

“How did you know?”

“It’s simple—wealthy households, prestigious families, noble clans, all climb ever higher! The Eastern provinces are the Shen family’s backyard. Whenever a household shows signs of rising to noble status, they suppress it. If you managed to bypass my younger brother, who is a Grandmaster of the Golden Radiance, and enter here, your cultivation must be close to Master of Vital Energy, if not already. The only force in the southeastern provinces capable of sending such a formidable expert is the Shen family—who else?”

“Haha, brilliant!” Jiang An smiled, his gaze shifting suddenly. “Qi Patriarch, this younger brother you mention—could he be the one outside?”

Before he finished speaking, the sturdy bedroom door shattered into pieces, and a tall figure lunged in with astonishing speed!