Shen Yi’s protection left Shen Li with no choice but to accept it—she could only shake her head and submit. Refuse and there’d be no point; Hanyue was watching her every move.
On the field, Wu Sixi and Xuanyuan Jue were locked in a furious, evenly matched duel. Wu’s skill was uncanny—so many of his moves Shen Li had never seen before. Even so, Xuanyuan’s reactions were faster; every time Wu closed in, Xuanyuan somehow struck first and forced him back.
Elsewhere, Mu Wulin was tangled up with Xuan Shu, and Zhuang Yusheng had been circled by three to five imperial guards. They hadn’t been captured yet, but it was only a matter of time.
Shen Yi kept watching the battlefield. Fearing further delay might change the tide, he ordered Hanyue, “Hanyue, go—seize Wu Sixi.”
Without hesitation, Hanyue moved toward the pair.
The sudden arrival of another opponent made things harder for Wu. He slipped past Xuanyuan’s strike and stepped back a few paces to distance himself from Xuanyuan and Hanyue. His right hand still held the sword, aimed at Xuanyuan; his left hand, however, began to move silently.
“Hold your breath! Watch his poison!” Xuanyuan warned Hanyue just as Wu raised that left hand.
At once a handful of white powder scattered into the air. Xuanyuan and Hanyue were prepared and didn’t inhale it—but several guards closer to them were not so lucky. They clutched their throats, faces contorted in pain; blood poured from their noses and mouths. After a few agonized convulsions they fell still.
Xuanyuan stared at the dead men and, for the first time, his face tightened. “He’s vicious,” he said quietly.
Shen Yi, Shen Li, and Xiao Hanzhi outside the courtyard all stiffened at the sight. A few breaths of that powder and a person could be dead.
The Imperial Guards who witnessed it grew tense, hands closing on their blades.
Seizing the moment Shen Yi was distracted, Shen Li slipped into the fray. She’d prepared: a handkerchief wrapped from nose to the back of her head and knotted to block inhalation of poison.
“Hmph. You think that’ll stop my poison? Foolish girl,” Wu sneered when he saw her covering her face.
“It’s not that I’m foolish,” Shen Li shot back, “it’s that people like you—dirty, poisonous—are rare around here. We don’t have much experience with your tricks.”
“A sharp-tongued little brat,” Wu chuckled, not angry but amused. “Very well—let’s play then.”
He drew from his chest a small, delicate instrument and began to blow a tune. Xuanyuan’s head tilted; the melody was strange, and the air around them seemed to change. “Quick—stop him! Don’t let him finish!” Xuanyuan barked.
Shen Li didn’t know exactly what Wu was blowing, but a man who used poison was unlikely to be up to anything good. She didn’t hesitate: she lashed out with her Nightshadow whip in one hand and, with the other, tossed a specially woven web crafted by the Nightshade Bureau. She’d judged where Wu might try to sidestep and aimed there.
As she expected, Wu moved to that very spot—and the web dropped from above to cover him. He only realized too late that a net had come down over his head. Nearby, Xuanyuan, Shen Li, and Hanyue all watched him like hawks. The more he struggled, the tighter the web constricted.
“Snakes! So many snakes!” someone from the guards cried.
Everyone turned and saw them: a writhing tide of snakes slithering toward them from the undergrowth, even dangling from the trees. The serpents formed a ring, surrounding the little group.
“Hahaha! Telling you won’t help, little girl!” Wu, pinned and laughing from the ground, taunted Shen Li.
Shen Li glanced at the snakes closing in and then back at Wu. She stooped, scooped up a fallen sword, and pointed it at him. “Those snakes—were they summoned by the tune you just played?”
“Laiqiu’s sorcery is powerful,” someone muttered.
“Laiqiu?” Wu laughed. “Miss Shen’s imagination runs wild. I’m no agent of some kingdom—just a bandit leader. Don’t tie me to their legends.”
“You’re arrogant, and you hide behind a mask,” Shen Li said, curling the blade in a small flourish. “I’m curious what face hides under that thing.”
At the mention of his mask, a flicker of panic passed over Wu’s face—quick as a shadow—but he forced a menacing grin. “Curiosity has a price. If you want to see my face, you’ll pay in blood. Leave me one arm and you can have a look.”
Shen Li advanced a step, smiling. “Oh? That only makes me more curious.”
The panic beneath his mask widened. He tried to maintain his swaggering tone: “Miss Shen, you’ve got guts—admirable, really. And you’ve got two arms. With your looks, even missing one won’t stop suitors from coming.”
“Then I’ll test that theory,” Shen Li said, lifting her sword.
“Miss!” Hanyue shouted, alarmed.
Shen Li hadn’t truly intended to force his hand—at least, not until she noticed Xuanyuan suddenly change. Before she could react, Xuanyuan’s eyes flashed. He lunged across and threw himself at Shen Li, wrapping his arms around her waist and collapsing to the ground with her, shielding her body with his.
Shen Li barely had time to register surprise when Xuanyuan rolled with her across the earth—twice. When they had been standing, there were now two long silver spikes driven into the ground where they had just been.