Chapter 4: A Quarter of an Hour

Like a horse passing a crack, a spark from a flint, a life within a dream...

Amidst an inexplicable echoing sound, Chen Ji did not know how long he had wandered in the darkness, as if he had been trekking through an icy river for a century, forever unable to push aside the fog before his eyes.

Yet, this darkness also felt as fleeting as a single instant, as brief as a spark struck from clashing stones.

Chen Ji could not control his body; he could only listen.

The sound of wind, the sound of rain, and even the sound of oars cutting through water—it was as if someone were carrying him across a sea of black clouds in a small, flat boat.

Chen Ji wanted to break through the darkness, but everything around him was as viscous as glue, preventing him from breaking free.

Outside the darkness, someone suddenly said in a relaxed tone, "Lord Zhou, we wouldn't have come here in person if we weren't absolutely certain. The moment you saw us, you had two choices: either cooperate fully and root out the Jing Dynasty spies in Luocheng, or we will make you wish you were dead. There is no other option."

A middle-aged man replied in a voice trembling with rage, "I do not know what crime I have committed to warrant you two wreaking such havoc in my manor. I do not know any Jing Dynasty spies!"

The relaxed voice from before continued, "On the twenty-seventh of last month, you hosted Lord Li of the Ministry of Works for drinks at Mingzhu Garden in Baiyi Lane, East Market. During the banquet, you redeemed a girl named Cuihuan from Mingzhu Garden and gifted her to him. However, this Cuihuan happens to be a Jing Dynasty spy, and she has already implicated you... I don't need to continue, do I?"

"What does it have to do with me if Cuihuan is a spy? I have never had any dealings with her before!"

"You want evidence?"

"Yes!"

In the room, a girl began to laugh: "Since when does the Secret Intelligence Service need evidence to kill a spy?"

The interrogated Lord Zhou stopped speaking. The room fell silent, save for heavy, ragged breathing.

Inside, porcelain lay shattered across the floor, and the curio cabinet used for ornaments was smashed to pieces, leaving the room like a ruin.

Amidst the wreckage, seven or eight corpses lay in twisted positions. Only one middle-aged man remained, slumped on the floor, his hair disheveled and his appearance wretched.

Opposite him, a young man dressed in sleek, black martial attire looked relaxed and amused. Not far away, a lithe girl in black crouched on a grand armchair, watching the show.

These two, a man and a woman in black, looked to be no more than twenty years old, yet they had slaughtered everyone in the room.

In the darkness, Chen Ji suddenly felt these voices like a hand, grabbing him as he sank into the abyss and dragging him back from hell to the world of the living.

"Lord Zhou, what other colleagues do you have in Luocheng? It’s fine if you don't want to tell the truth now; we have the whole night to kill," the young man said with a smile. "Wait a moment, we’ll bring over your family hidden in Chaimu Lane, and then we’ll see if you’re willing to talk..."

The next moment.

One of the corpses in the room suddenly sat up!

*Hiss!*

Chen Ji gasped, like a drowning man reborn, breathing greedily. His breathing was jarringly loud in the silence, breaking the room's oppressive atmosphere.

Chen Ji sat up from the floor, his head feeling heavy and muddled.

He instinctively reached for the knife wound on his waist, but there was nothing there.

The girl crouching on the grand armchair turned her head abruptly: "Hey, Yun Yang, your technique is getting rusty. How can you fail to kill someone properly?"

Yun Yang retorted, "Impossible, his heart must be positioned incorrectly!"

"If you miss, you miss. Is it that embarrassing to admit?"

"Then what should we do?"

"Kill him again, obviously."

At this moment, Chen Ji had too many questions: Why was he reborn? Where had he been reborn to? Could he still find his way home? If such a miraculous thing as rebirth could happen, could he see his loved ones again?

He opened his eyes: "Wait, I have something to say..."

As soon as he spoke, footsteps sounded outside, drawing everyone's attention.

More than ten men in identical black martial attire marched in, escorting seven or eight people into the courtyard. Among them were two children, a boy and a girl, around eight or nine years old.

Taking advantage of this distraction, Chen Ji quickly scanned his surroundings: the room was small, with a rosewood desk on the left and two grand armchairs and a table in the center.

Books, brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones were scattered everywhere, a scene of total chaos.

Did he transmigrate?

Is this the dream world that Li Qingniao spoke of?

He seemed to have transmigrated into the body of someone who had just died, though he did not know the identity of the deceased.

Chen Ji wanted to stop and think about his situation, but the crisis at hand was unfolding too quickly to allow him any time to reflect.

As he pondered, the ten or so men in black forced Lord Zhou's family to their knees. One of them cupped his hands and reported, "All the family members hidden by Zhou Chengyi have been brought here. This woman was redeemed by him from Baiyi Lane ten years ago. The two children are their flesh and blood, one boy and one girl. The others are the steward and the maid."

The men in black had resolute expressions, each with a sheathed long saber hanging at their waist.

Yun Yang smiled and crouched in front of the woman: "My lady, do you know that Lord Zhou is a spy for the Jing Dynasty?"

The woman hugged the little boy tightly, shaking her head in terror: "I don't know! We don't know anything!"

Yun Yang pulled a long, thin silver needle from his sleeve and, with lightning speed, pricked the woman in the chest. She couldn't even make a sound before she slumped to the ground.

Dead.

Wailing erupted in the room. The steward asked desperately, "Master, what is going on, Master?!"

Zhou Chengyi did not answer, only watching the scene with a grim expression.

Yun Yang looked at him, then crouched in front of a maid: "Do you have anything you want to tell me?"

The maid stammered, "I... my master only comes two or three times a month. It’s hard for us to even... even see him."

Yun Yang thrust the silver needle forward. The maid tried to dodge, but the needle was too fast to avoid. She could only watch helplessly as it pierced her chest.

Chen Ji instinctively touched his own chest.

Yun Yang continued his slaughter until he reached the little boy. He crouched down with a smile, but instead of looking at the boy, he stared straight at Zhou Chengyi: "Kid, has your father told you anything?"

Zhou Chengyi’s face twitched: "Your Ning Dynasty was founded on books and rituals. Are you really going to torture and kill a child?"

Yun Yang sneered: "This spring, when the Jing Dynasty cavalry marched south and slaughtered countless innocent people of our Ning Dynasty, did I need to lecture them on poetry and rituals? Besides, you bought a ten-year-old girl last year to raise in your home, only to gift her to the Prefect of Luocheng later. Was she not a child? Lord Zhou, if you don't confess now, your children will die."

"Father, save me!"

However, Zhou Chengyi only turned his head slightly, refusing to listen to the child's pleas.

Yun Yang whistled: "So cold-hearted. It seems we’ve caught a spy of the Gyrfalcon rank or higher. To think you’ve been lurking under our noses for so many years—it’s truly shameful."

*Stab.*

The boy fell, dead.

Chen Ji watched silently. The child’s eyes hadn't even had time to close; they were wide open, staring at him.

Veins throbbed on Zhou Chengyi’s forehead.

At this moment, the girl named Jiao Tu came to the little girl, crouched down, and whispered, "Just now, your mother only hugged your brother. Did you see that?"

The little girl nodded in terror.

Jiao Tu continued, "If you are willing to come with me and call me 'sister,' I won't kill you."

But the little girl did not answer, only looking at her father in confusion and fear.

"In this world, girls who are weak suffer a great deal," Jiao Tu smiled and pulled the little girl into her arms: "Don't be afraid, it will be quick."

She pulled a silver needle identical to Yun Yang's from her hair and personally pierced the back of the little girl's neck. The girl instantly went limp in Jiao Tu's arms, silent forever.

Chen Ji’s pupils constricted.

Yun Yang watched this scene without a care. He walked over to the remaining steward and Chen Ji: "Young man, you were lucky just now. Since you survived by chance, I’ll give you another opportunity. Let’s play a game: whoever gives us information first gets to live."

The steward immediately crawled forward on his knees, crying with snot and tears: "My lords, I’ll talk! I’ll tell you everything you want to know! Let me live!"

Yun Yang was amused: "I love these stories of betraying one's master for personal gain!"

Chen Ji, standing to the side, also spoke up: "I don't have any information, but give me two quarters of an hour, and I will find the information for you."

The steward hurriedly explained, "He’s just a medical apprentice, what could he possibly know? Listen to me, my lords!"

Yun Yang looked at Chen Ji with a sincere expression: "I have to wait two quarters of an hour for your information, and I’m not even sure if it exists, so I’m very sorry... Ah, you!"

Just as he was mocking him, he saw Chen Ji suddenly lunge at the steward, pinning him firmly to the ground.

In the blink of an eye, a shard of porcelain Chen Ji had hidden in his hand sliced the steward's neck. Unfortunately, he lacked experience in killing, and the first strike failed to hit the carotid artery.

Neither Yun Yang nor Jiao Tu moved to stop him.

In a panic, the steward lay on the ground, struggling and striking Chen Ji’s cheek with his fist, but Chen Ji did not flinch or dodge, gripping the porcelain shard and slicing down again.

On this second attempt, the steward's carotid artery was severed, and blood sprayed out like a fountain.

The steward was dead.

Chen Ji slowly stood up. The corner of his eye was bruised from the steward's punches, and his palm was cut from gripping the porcelain shard too tightly, blood dripping onto the floor.

Jiao Tu’s eyes brightened.

Yun Yang became interested: "You really want to live?"

Chen Ji panted, "I don't have the information, but give me two quarters of an hour, and I will find it for you."

"Oh?" Yun Yang raised an eyebrow: "Deal, but I’ll only give you one quarter of an hour."