Chapter 79: An Intruder on the Beam

The weather grew colder, and every exhaled breath froze into a thin mist in the air.

In the Li Mansion’s back yard, only one living person was cautiously making their way forward.

Suddenly, a faint sound echoed through the still midnight.

It was tiny, like a crack in an eggshell, yet it immediately set the intruder’s nerves on edge.

Fang Shenyan spun around, gripping the knife in his hand, his sharp eyes fixed on a particular direction.

There, darkness stretched endlessly, hiding in dense vegetation, lying in wait.

Seeing this, he abruptly recalled Xiao Lan’s earlier reaction.

She had been startled by Yu Guo’s teasing, turning her head to look in a certain direction.

Now, Fang Shenyan’s gaze fell on the exact same spot Xiao Lan had instinctively avoided.

“It can’t be a coincidence…”

Yet he dared not approach; no one could know what lurked there.

He knew that being alone increased his risk of attack more than anyone else. If he advanced alone, he could easily end up dead, abandoned in the wilderness.

Fang Shenyan didn’t particularly value life, but he didn’t want to die this early.

After a moment of hesitation, he gripped his knife and sprinted toward what he guessed was the back door of the Li Mansion.

Earlier, he had moved cautiously, wary of alarming anything or encountering ghosts, which slowed him down.

Now, under the darker sky, he resolved to move as fast as possible to achieve his goal.

“The whole Li Mansion… dark, empty, not a soul in sight, not even a funeral couplet. Why is such a powerful estate so deserted?”

The empty front yard offered a clue.

Servants and laborers in wealthy households of this era should have been abundant. But with none in the front, that left only the back yard.

Even the white-robed men who had carried coffins—twenty or thirty strong—had likely gone to the back door as well.

Combined with the elderly woman’s words about nightly funerals, there had to be at least some attendants in the back yard to prepare coffins, horses, and ritual objects for the next night.

This was why Fang Shenyan had chosen to move out in the dead of night. As for why he hadn’t consulted Tongguan and the others…

There were many reasons.

Perhaps he no longer believed he could maintain trust with them. Branch Seven was already divided.

Yu Guo had sided with Ji Li over A-Lian, while Fang Shenyan’s aim was simpler: staying aligned with a similarly petty figure might help him survive longer. Mutual understanding existed between them.

After some time, Fang Shenyan finally sighted a thick wall.

It was coated in red powder, topped with steel spikes as a barrier.

In the center was a closed wooden door.

He slowed his steps, hearing the whinnying of horses and the deep voices of two middle-aged men conversing through the door.

“This is the twelfth funeral in as many days. I wonder when it will end.”

“Yeah, ever since the master died, the lady hasn’t appeared, only the young master comes and goes.”

“Huh? Have you heard about a secret…”

“What?”

“The master had been healthy all his life, but since the young master Chen Fu came half a month ago, the master has died… could it be—”

“Shh! Don’t talk nonsense!”

“I’m not! Think about it: the master had no children, and now the lady’s nephew comes to stay. Can there really be no hidden truth?”

“Enough, tie the horses! We need them ready for tomorrow’s funeral.”

Fang Shenyan’s eyes narrowed. Just as he suspected, the attendants held unexpected information.

In just a few lines of dialogue, he had gained significant insight.

Half a month ago, Chen Fu entered the mansion, coinciding with the master’s death. Judging by the number of funerals, the Li Mansion had started nightly funeral rituals immediately after.

Perhaps this was linked to the mission’s main thread.

Bang!

Fang Shenyan no longer hesitated. He drove his knife straight through the door latch with such force that it pierced completely to the other side.

He then kicked the back door open.

Before him lay a small courtyard filled with hay.

Two men in coarse cloth crouched over the hay, tending to the troughs and setting up paper horses and figurines.

Fang Shenyan’s sudden appearance startled them. Though they couldn’t see clearly, the gleaming blade in the night left no doubt.

One man flipped a paper horse in panic and scrambled backward, mouth wide, about to scream—but the knife’s tip pierced his skull from behind, cutting through his throat and tongue.

Crimson blood seeped from his open mouth as the sharp blade withdrew.

Fang Shenyan, expressionless, yanked the knife free, and the body collapsed with a thud, convulsing a few times.

The second attendant was frozen in terror, unable to move.

Fang Shenyan crouched slowly, shaking the blood from his blade. He took a handkerchief from his chest pocket, wiped it clean, and asked deliberately:

“Tell me everything that has happened in the past half month, in detail.”

The attendant sat there, staring blankly, completely paralyzed by fear.

Fang Shenyan frowned, recognizing the man’s shock. He gently tapped the man’s cheek with the knife.

“My time is short, and so is yours. Do you want me to help you speed up?”

The cold steel could wipe away the blood, but it could not erase the stench of gore.

The attendant opened his mouth to speak, then immediately began vomiting uncontrollably.

“I… I’ll say—”

About twenty minutes later, it was four o’clock on November 1.

The sky had not yet brightened, but Fang Shenyan emerged from the stable looking relaxed.

Fresh blood clung to his hands; he wiped it clean with a handkerchief and tossed it aside.

Tonight’s yield had been extremely fruitful. Fang Shenyan was now certain that the Li Mansion was the source of the mission.

Glancing at his watch, he felt it was still early. Unsatisfied, he hesitated briefly, then headed toward the front yard, toward the elderly woman’s room.

With prior experience, his pace was extraordinarily fast. He moved precisely to the eaves.

Inside the quiet room, he noticed a faint flicker of candlelight—not from the reception hall, but from a room further back.

Pausing for a moment, he glanced at the roof.

Fang Shenyan was exceptionally agile. Within moments, he climbed onto the tiles.

Step by step, he moved silently; the faint creaks of the roof were drowned in the wind.

Halfway across, he froze.

On the eaves ahead sat a figure already merged with the darkness.

The person seemed to have been waiting for him. Slowly, they turned their head and said:

“Is there fire?

I’ve been patient for a long time.”