Chapter Twenty: The Enchanting Dance Between Light and Shadow

Inside the grand hall, Zhao Hu and the others continued to drink. Nearby, Li Chengqian instructed Lu Liangping to prepare a daring plan. Though Lu Liangping was quite nervous, Li Chengqian remained calm and composed as if nothing were amiss.

Just as Zhao Hu had finished raising his cup and was about to return to his seat, hurried footsteps echoed outside the hall. With a loud creak, the massive doors were forcefully pushed open.

Suddenly, a feathered arrow whistled through the air, aimed directly at Zhao Hu. A sharp-eyed guard spotted the scene and shouted urgently, “Your Highness, watch out!”

The warning rang out clearly among the guards present, but the arrow’s speed was staggering—faster than any arrow they had seen. While a straightforward attack might be dodged, a concealed arrow like this was nearly impossible to defend against.

Some of the more timid guards shut their eyes in fear, while the more agile ones leapt forward, raising their broadswords in an attempt to intercept the arrow. But their efforts were futile; no one could stop the arrow’s lightning-fast flight.

Neither Yang Jiguang nor Zhao Hu had anticipated this. They had been focused on winning hearts and minds, not expecting an assassin to strike so boldly within the hall itself.

Yang Jiguang, a skilled fighter, quickly drew his broadsword and stepped forward to block the arrow. Among the guards, his prowess was unmatched; if he couldn’t stop the arrow, no one could.

Yet the arrow seemed to have a mind of its own. Despite Yang Jiguang’s desperate swings, it slipped past and headed straight for Zhao Hu. Sweat beaded on Yang’s forehead as he realized the grave danger Zhao Hu was in.

Zhao Hu, pale as death, turned just in time to see the arrow hurtling toward him. Accepting his fate, he closed his eyes, bracing for the end.

But then, something unexpected happened—the arrow appeared to be caught mid-flight, as if stuck to an invisible force. A clear metallic clang rang out.

Relieved, the onlookers exhaled deeply. Few had seen exactly what transpired, but suddenly a throwing knife flew through the air and struck the arrow, knocking it down.

Hidden in the shadows beside the hall, Li Chengqian witnessed everything. Beside him, Lu Liangping’s tense heart finally settled as well.

Indeed, it was the throwing knife of Gouhun that saved Zhao Hu. At the most critical moment, Gouhun’s sense of justice overcame all else; with a single, swift motion, he dispatched the deadly arrow before it could harm Zhao Hu.

Had it not been for Gouhun’s intervention, Zhao Hu would likely have perished in the hall.

Yang Jiguang and the others recovered their composure, staring at the fallen arrow in awe. They never expected anyone to intervene and save Zhao Hu at such a perilous moment.

Of course, the rescuer’s true target was not Zhao Hu but the Crown Prince. Yang Jiguang’s sharp eyes noticed the suspected assassin’s right hand moving toward his waist once again.

“This assassin has a strong sense of justice. He doesn’t seem like a villain. The fact that he saved the Crown Prince at this moment says it all,” Yang Jiguang thought, secretly admiring the assassin’s resolve.

Though a skilled combatant, this assassin did not intend to harm the Crown Prince. But who had fired that feathered arrow?

Suddenly, a masked figure bolted away. “Stop him! The assassin is there!” Yang Jiguang shouted, seizing his broadsword and charging after him.

Many guards followed, pursuing the fleeing figure. Halfway through, Yang Jiguang hesitated, realizing he must remain to protect Zhao Hu.

Though Zhao Hu was not the true Crown Prince, protocol demanded that he be shielded.

“Some of you go after the assassin; the rest stay with me to protect His Highness,” Yang Jiguang commanded, stepping before Zhao Hu to shield him. Several guards quickly formed a protective circle around Zhao Hu.

“Capture the assassin! There will be a generous reward!” Zhao Hu regained his composure and shouted.

“Yes, Your Highness!” The guards redoubled their efforts.

One guard, agile and swift, vanished from sight within moments.

Yang Jiguang and the others were stunned. This assassin was enigmatic—both righteous and rogue. He had clearly intended to kill the man posing as the Crown Prince, yet at the critical instant, he intervened to save him.

Such a choice required tremendous courage and conviction.

As an assassin, such a decision likely meant severe consequences. His employer would surely dispatch others to eliminate him.

Yet in that dangerous moment, he chose not to strike but to protect.

This spoke volumes about his character—a deep-rooted loyalty and patriotism.

This was precisely the kind of man Li Chengqian sought.

Watching the unfolding events from the shadows, Li Chengqian gave a subtle thumbs-up, feeling a surge of delight as if discovering a new world.

An idea formed instantly.

“Lu Liangping, arrange for someone to observe that skilled guard and then...” Li Chengqian lowered his voice, whispering near Lu’s ear.

“Your Highness, is this assassin really as righteous as you say?” Lu Liangping’s eyes flickered with doubt.

“Trust me. Follow my orders. I will go myself,” Li Chengqian smiled warmly, gathering his belongings to rise.

“Your Highness, no! If anything happens to you, I alone would bear the blame,” Lu Liangping fretted, uneasy. This was no joke; even a small misstep could plunge the Tang Dynasty into darkness.

“Fear not, I have soft armor beneath my robes. Even if the assassin harbors ill intent, he cannot harm me,” Li Chengqian reassured, patting Lu Liangping’s shoulder with a calm smile.

“Very well, Your Highness. I obey,” Lu Liangping hesitated briefly but ultimately nodded, meeting Li’s expectant gaze.

“Good. I won’t appear openly. With Zhao Hu as my public shield, nothing will happen,” Li Chengqian said confidently.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Lu Liangping replied, turning to make arrangements.

Moments later, Lu Liangping finished the preparations and reported back.

“Let’s go!” Li Chengqian waved his hand and set out.

Outside, horses awaited, saddled and ready.

Li Chengqian mounted swiftly, with Lu Liangping by his side.

They rode eastward, pursuing the assassin.

The assassin, however, did not flee far before turning back.

In truth, this supposed assassin was not truly a killer but a pawn in Li Chengqian’s grand scheme, designed to test the man’s character.

From his observations, Li Chengqian had already sensed the assassin’s uniqueness—a lone wolf radiating noble righteousness, unlike captured assassins before.

So ordinary as to be unnoticed in a crowd, yet Li Chengqian had marked him for special attention.

He deliberately sent guards to pose as assassins to attack Zhao Hu, watching how this man would respond.

Though harsh, the test revealed the assassin’s true nature.

If the man had been lost to darkness, Li Chengqian would have eliminated him.

Yet even if Gouhun had not intervened, Zhao Hu, protected by soft armor, would have suffered at worst minor injuries.

This single test uncovered Gouhun’s essence. The instant the throwing knife flew, Li Chengqian’s doubts vanished.

This was why he now moved to implement the next step.

Not long after, Li Chengqian rode toward the scene according to plan.

At the same time, Gouhun confronted the faux assassin cornered against a wall.

“Friend, why attempt to kill the prince? Who sent you?” Gouhun’s face darkened as he stared fiercely.

“What are you? You don’t look like a guard,” the cornered man asked nervously.

“That’s none of your concern. Just know your end has come. Before you die, it’s best you answer my questions,” Gouhun’s voice was cold, his gaze sharp with murderous intent.

The cornered man exchanged a glance with Gouhun and instantly felt unease. He was no true assassin; the other before him was the real threat.

Gouhun’s right hand slid toward his throwing knife at his waist, ready to strike at the slightest provocation or disdain.

During their earlier clash in the hall, the man had been deeply impressed by Gouhun’s skill, especially the lightning-fast feathered arrow.

Yet Gouhun had unleashed immense strength in a flash, using his throwing knives to effortlessly defuse the crisis.

That was the true mark of an assassin. The man before Gouhun was merely an ordinary guard; compared to Gouhun’s professional skill, he was like a mere novice facing a master—utterly outmatched.

“Why should I answer your questions? Are you also an assassin like me?” the disguised guard sneered.

“You shouldn’t ask. I advise you against it—it won’t do you any good!” Gouhun retorted coldly, a trace of contempt curling his lips.

In his eyes, the battle was already decided before he had even acted; this so-called assassin was worthless and defenseless.

Gouhun tightened his grip on the deadly throwing knife.

Suddenly, the disguised guard grabbed a crossbow, nocked an arrow, and aimed at Gouhun.

With a sharp whistle, a feathered arrow flew straight at Gouhun.

Swift and unexpected, it arrived in an instant.

Gouhun merely smiled disdainfully, a sneer playing on his lips. Then, with a sudden motion, he drew his throwing knife and hurled it at the arrow.

“Thwack!”

The knife pierced the arrow, embedding itself in the wall behind the guard.

The arrow was impaled and stopped dead in its flight, but the knife continued towards the guard.

The guard was dumbfounded, mouth agape at the astonishing speed.

At that moment, the sound of galloping hooves approached.

It was Li Chengqian and Lu Liangping with their men.

“Hold your fire!” Lu Liangping shouted.

Gouhun was startled but could no longer recall the knife. He swiftly commanded, “Dodge left!”

Drawing another throwing knife, he fired at the first, flying knife midair.

The stunned guard understood and ducked left.

“Thunk!”

Still, the knife grazed his arm. It was meant for his chest, but Gouhun’s warning saved his life.

The blade pierced his arm and lodged into the wall.

Almost simultaneously, another throwing knife stuck into the wall.

The speed was breathtaking, leaving the guard stunned.

“Let’s hear his reasons first. Your skill is impressive—I noticed it myself,” Li Chengqian quickly interceded.

He had almost said “my skill” but caught himself.

“Are you also a guard of the Crown Prince?” Gouhun asked abruptly, startled as he recognized Li Chengqian beneath the guard’s guise.

He scrutinized Li Chengqian—young, strong, steady, with an imposing aura entirely unlike a mere guard.

More tellingly, he noticed something unusual about Li’s leg.

Recalling the Crown Prince’s limp earlier in the hall, Gouhun realized this guard might be the real prince.

“Yes, your skill was remarkable. We all saw it. I truly admire you,” Li Chengqian said with a bow.

“It’s nothing, just a small effort,” Gouhun forced a smile, though it felt strained—perhaps from not having smiled in so long. His smile was unsettling.

“Though we are all guards of the Crown Prince, only you stepped in at his most dangerous moment. That shows your true loyalty; you must be the most devoted of his men,” Li Chengqian continued, flattering him.

Gouhun was momentarily confused—why so much praise from a fellow guard? What was his motive?

He looked up sharply. “Naturally. When the Crown Prince is in danger, we must act. As his guards, how could we not?” he said.

“Well said!” Li Chengqian laughed heartily, giving a thumbs-up.

At that moment, the cornered guard suddenly leapt up and fled.

Gouhun’s eyes narrowed, instantly sensing danger.

He drew a throwing knife, ready to pursue.

Just then, Zhao Hu and the others arrived.

“Long live the Crown Prince!” Yang Jiguang called out.

Li Chengqian, Lu Liangping, and the others dismounted swiftly, bowing respectfully to Zhao Hu.

“We pay our respects, Your Highness,” they said in unison.

Gouhun followed suit, bowing to the prince.

He temporarily spared the fleeing guard, turning his gaze back to Zhao Hu.

His eyes were clear but tinged with reluctance.

Li Chengqian understood—Gouhun was displeased at missing the chance to capture the guard. His rising sense of justice was being challenged.

“Everyone, rise,” Zhao Hu said cheerfully, then shifted tone.

“Who threw that throwing knife that saved me just now?”

Li Chengqian pointed at Gouhun with a smile. “Your Highness, it was him. His skill with the throwing knife is extraordinary—I saw it myself.”

Zhao Hu blinked in surprise, then nodded at Gouhun.

“Well done. You saved my life when I was at death’s door. But I have a question...” Zhao Hu’s gaze turned cold as he stared intently at Gouhun.