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Night had fully claimed the Great Empire of Tianzhou.
The palace, so vibrant and commanding under the sun, now rested beneath a quiet veil of silver and shadow.
Lanterns flickered along its long corridors, their glow warm yet insufficient against the vast darkness that stretched across rooftops, courtyards, and towering walls.
To most, it was a night like any other.
Still.
Peaceful.
Guarded.
But for one man-
It was an opening.
Far beyond the inner palace, where the outer walls rose high and unyielding, a figure stood in the darkness.
This was Mo Qingren.
The assassin of the Kingdom of Liangyu.
He did not move immediately.
Instead, he observed.
The towering walls of Tianzhou's imperial palace loomed before him-constructed of reinforced stone, lined with watchtowers, and guarded by rotating patrols that moved with disciplined rhythm.
Torches burned steadily along the parapets.
Shadows stretched and shifted with every flicker of flame.
To an untrained eye, the defenses were formidable.
Nearly impenetrable.
But Qingren's gaze held no doubt.
Only calculation.
He noted the spacing between guards.
The brief lapses when their paths crossed.
The seconds when attention shifted elsewhere.
Every detail was measured.
Stored.
Understood.
The wind brushed against his dark attire, blending him seamlessly into the night.
His breathing remained slow, controlled-almost nonexistent.
Then-
He moved.
In a single fluid motion, Qingren stepped forward and leapt toward the wall, his fingers finding the smallest of holds in the stone.
His body remained close to the surface as he climbed, each movement precise and silent.
Below, a guard passed.
Unaware.
Above, another turned briefly-
But saw nothing.
Because there was nothing to see.
By the time the guard looked again-
Qingren was already gone.
Within the palace walls-
He landed soundlessly upon the inner grounds.
No alarm.
No disturbance.
Only the quiet continuation of night.
He did not pause
.
Instead, he moved immediately-keeping low, his steps light as he slipped between shadows cast by pillars and curved rooftops.
He avoided open spaces.
Chose narrow paths.
Places where darkness gathered naturally.
The imperial palace unfolded before him like a map already memorized.
Each structure.
Each corridor.
Each hidden passage.
Nothing unfamiliar.
Nothing uncertain.
And above it all-
The deeper inner palace.
Where his target lay.
Meanwhile-
Not far from the central gardens-
General Liang Fengxiao stood before a line of guards.
The night air carried a faint chill, stirring the edges of his dark cloak as he surveyed the men before him.
His posture was straight.
Unyielding.
His presence alone was enough to command attention.
"Tonight, no position is left unattended," he said, his voice calm but firm.
The guards straightened instantly.
"Yes, General!"
"The inner palace is to be secured from all directions," he continued. "No one enters without clearance. No one leaves unnoticed."
One of the guards spoke carefully.
"General, is there a specific threat?"
Liang Fengxiao paused.
For a moment, he said nothing.
Then-
"...There is a possibility."
The answer was measured.
Deliberate.
"Which is enough."
The guards exchanged brief glances, tension settling among them.
"Double the patrol routes," he added. "Rotate positions. Do not follow predictable patterns."
"Yes, General!"
His gaze hardened slightly.
"And stay alert."
No further explanation.
None needed.
The guards bowed and quickly dispersed, their armor clinking softly as they moved into position across the palace grounds.
Liang Fengxiao remained still.
His eyes lifted toward the inner palace.
Something weighed on him.
Not fear.
But instinct.
A quiet warning that refused to be ignored.
He exhaled slowly.
Then turned-
And began his patrol.
Above-
Mo Qingren moved swiftly across the rooftops.
From one structure to another, his form blended seamlessly with the darkness, his presence nearly indistinguishable from shadow itself.
Below him, guards patrolled diligently.
Their movements sharper than before.
More alert.
Qingren noticed.
A faint shift in routine.
Subtle.
But intentional.
He paused briefly at the edge of a curved roof, his gaze lowering.
The palace was tightening its defenses.
Interesting.
But not enough.
His lips barely moved.
"...Too late."
And then-
He continued.
Deeper within the palace-
The residence of Princess Xiao Lihua stood quietly beneath the moonlight.
Unlike the grand halls of court, her chambers were softer.
More secluded.
A place of calm.
Of healing.
Tonight, her windows were slightly open, allowing the cool night air to drift gently through the room.
The curtains swayed faintly, casting soft shadows along the walls.
She slept peacefully.
Unaware.
Unprotected.
Or so it seemed.
Outside-
Mo Qingren reached the final structure.
The princess's chambers.
He crouched along the outer beam, his body balanced effortlessly as he observed the balcony ahead.
The distance was minimal.
The access-
Perfect.
He waited.
Listening.
No movement within.
No guards nearby.
The palace had placed its trust in height and distance.
A mistake.
Qingren shifted his weight slightly.
Then-
He leapt.
Landing silently upon the balcony railing.
Not a single sound followed.
The world remained still.
Unaware.
He straightened slowly, his gaze drifting toward the interior of the chamber.
The curtains moved gently.
The faint glow of candlelight flickered within.
His mission-
Within reach.
Below-
Liang Fengxiao walked through the imperial garden once more.
The path curved beneath arching trees, their branches swaying softly in the wind. Petals drifted lazily through the air, catching the pale light of the full moon above.
For a moment-
He slowed.
His gaze lifted toward the sky.
The moon hung full and bright, casting a serene glow over the entire palace.
It was... beautiful.
Quiet.
Deceptively so.
Liang Fengxiao's expression softened slightly as he looked at it.
A rare moment.
A rare pause.
But then-
Something shifted.
A flicker.
Barely there.
His eyes narrowed.
Slowly-
His gaze lowered.
Toward the structures ahead.
Toward-
The princess's chambers.
And there-
Against the pale light of the moon-
He saw it.
A silhouette.
Still.
Balanced along the balcony.
Watching.
Waiting.
Not a servant.
Not a guard.
Something else.
Something wrong.
Liang Fengxiao's entire posture changed in an instant.
The softness vanished.
Replaced by sharp, immediate focus.
His hand moved instinctively toward his weapon.
His eyes locked onto the figure above.
The night, once calm-
Now held its breath.
And beneath the silent gaze of the moon-
The moment before collision had arrived.
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(End of Chapter 13)