Faced with a strike like this, the original Eunuch Chief Lewis would probably have dropped to his knees—if not instantly, then pretty close. Too bad, though, this sword underestimated its opponent.
Anyone would get a headache dealing with an assassin who's fast, sharp, sneaky, and explosive. Only Teacher Yang, with his flawless, ultimate perception, could go toe-to-toe with Wind Supreme in pitch darkness.
Even if both had reached the Seventh Tier of Enlightenment, Jill Young's perception couldn't match Teacher Yang's. The difference wasn’t just in raw senses, but in some mysterious, otherworldly gift. But Jill had her own tricks—just like last time against Lydia Drake, set a trap, catch a limb, and once you’ve got them, you can squish and squash them however you like.
In a flash, just when it seemed Jill Young was frozen by this black-and-white world, she suddenly shot her left hand behind her. Her fingers struck like a dragon, faster than lightning—smack! The world’s colors washed away, and she’d grabbed the sword’s biggest weakness tight.
"Huh?!" came a raspy, low cry from behind. In a split second, Jill dodged the blade by a hair and grabbed the hilt of the thin sword with a firm grip.
The berserker caught the rogue—need I say more?
But Jill frowned. She hadn’t caught what she was supposed to—the assassin’s hand. Instincts kicking in, she realized the hilt wasn’t empty, but it wasn’t solid either. Something was up. She yanked with dragon-elephant strength, nearly uprooting a mountain. But the assassin, after a split-second of shock, reacted lightning-fast. Crack! Suddenly the sword went limp in her hand, completely disconnected and hers.
This sword was packed with tricks and traps—but seriously, you think that’s enough to handle me?
In the blink of an eye, with a flick of her finger and a flash of thought, Jill Young snapped the sword back the way it came. Her finger launched it like a shuttle—clang! The blade rang out, slicing through the air. Ding! Metal struck something, and a muffled grunt came from behind.
Now's my chance! Jill sidestepped, spun her waist and heel, and threw a right hook packed with a thousand pounds of force!
Her eyes flashed with light; her heavy punch tore through the air, roaring forward like an earthquake.
Whoosh—the black-and-white world returned. The assassin used some special power again, turning this little corner of reality into something abstract, oppressive, and murky. The assassin hid deep behind the curtain of this monochrome world, impossible to pin down. The invisible killing intent was everywhere, and this black-and-white world felt as creepy as the weirdest horror movie—nobody wanted to touch it.
But Jill Young didn’t hold back—she smashed her fist right into that world of black and white with absolute confidence.
It’s a mental showdown—when two meet head-on, the brave one wins!
Crack! The black-and-white world split like a smashed screen, spiderweb cracks spreading everywhere. The heavy punch pushed and compressed the air, like a giant rock splashing into a lake. Boom! Thunder exploded, koi in Pearlstream Pond scattered in panic, and wild winds whipped the trees on the shore. Leaves flew everywhere as the monochrome world shattered into pieces and faded into dust.
In the chaos, a flash of light and shadow—then silence.
“Hmph, slippery little thing.” Jill Young flicked her sleeve, using sixty years of cultivation to calm the aftershocks. Pearlstream Pond returned to peace. She looked at the empty courtyard—the assassin was truly gone this time.
From this fight, Jill Young realized that the black-and-white world wasn’t a real Heavenly King Phenomenon—it wasn’t from the assassin’s own spiritual power, but triggered by some special item or gear.
Because the assassin’s own spiritual cultivation was nowhere near enough to create a true phenomenon, this black-and-white world was much clumsier and rougher than the real deal. On the flip side, there was a silver lining: when Jill shattered the illusion with her willpower punch, most of the backlash was absorbed by the special equipment, so the assassin only took a tiny hit. Otherwise, there’s no way they could’ve escaped.
"Last time at Shaolin Temple, Joey Joy used the thousand-year incense in the Grand Hall to pull off a Zen Finger Strike—pretty much like a Heavenly King Phenomenon. Now another assassin did something similar with a gadget. Turns out, there are thousands of paths up the mountain, but they all lead to the same peak. These two martial arts worlds can definitely learn a thing or two from each other."
Jill Young picked up the thin sword—the assassin was too spent to take it with them, giving Jill a chance to study her opponent.
The sword was oddly shaped—more like a dagger than a sword, really. The hilt had a special latch mechanism. Jill spun the thin sword in her hand, quickly figuring out its balance, weight, and leverage points. It was a sleeve sword: when not in use, it stayed hidden in a sleeve, and when needed, it popped out with a trigger, no need to grab it by hand.
"No wonder—the assassin was super cautious, definitely a pro. But aside from its weird size, why does this sword feel so familiar? Why does my brain keep shouting 'Assassin's Creed' at me?" Jill stared at the sword for a bit, then tucked it away.
Whatever—the assassin was after Eunuch Chief Lewis, not my problem. I’m not here to pick a fight for him. There are way more important things to handle; catching assassins isn’t even top priority right now.
When the guards rushed in, Jill Young had already switched back to Eunuch Chief Yvonne. She scolded them with a dark face, ordering them to catch the assassin ASAP. The guards nodded, drenched in cold sweat, clueless that Eunuch Chief Yvonne was just putting on a show and didn’t care at all. She had bigger fish to fry—after arranging everything, she quickly left the palace.
(This chapter isn’t over yet~.~ Click next page for more!)
Meanwhile, as Eunuch Chief Yvonne left the palace, the whole Forbidden Palace was about to explode.
The Hall of Benevolent Origin was on fire, Empress Natalie Nalan survived an assassination attempt, and the news spread through the rear palace with teams of guards rushing everywhere. Some consorts were terrified, some worried, some anxious about losing their big backers. Of course, plenty were cursing under their breath, "What, she didn’t die? That assassin’s useless! Anyone, hurry up and kill that old hag—big rewards from me!"
Emperor Lizong’s consorts had zero sense of security—just look at the Red-Yellow-Blue Trio, sent to the Cold Palace at the drop of a hat. Every consort walked on eggshells. Only the Empress had survived over a decade unscathed, so every consort wanted a shot at her throne. But really, only the top-tier ladies dreamed of being Empress—the newbies who’d never even met the Emperor had nothing to do with it.
Take Charlotte Cloud, for example—she wasn’t thinking about any of that.
Right now, all Charlotte Cloud could think was: Dad, this is so not what we planned!
Ahem, let’s take a moment to focus on our star, Miss Chu. Her original plan was to catch the Emperor’s eye before entering the palace, get a head start, and enter as an already-promoted consort. That way, she’d have a leg up on the competition, more chances for favor, and could use her beauty and talent to win affection quickly. Then, with her brains and guts, she’d play palace politics and carve out her own territory among the consorts.
She’d even mapped out how to win hearts and avoid backstabbing—her family’s plan was so detailed it could be a palace drama script.
If everything went smoothly, she’d enjoy glory and luxury, and her family would become major players at court. She’d get anything she wanted—her role models were Yang Guifei and Wu Zetian!
But now?
The Emperor hadn’t issued any special decree for her—instead, he poured all his favor on Mia Wise. Ironically, just days ago, Charlotte had watched Mia star in 'A Chinese Ghost Story.' Back then, Charlotte was sitting while Mia performed. Now, Mia was promoted to Imperial Consort, and Charlotte entered as a regular showgirl. At the Hall of Benevolent Origin, Mia sat while Charlotte knelt.
Rank and status flipped so fast it felt absurd.
And that’s not all—she’d been in the palace for over two weeks, and by tradition, the Emperor should’ve started visiting new consorts one by one. Usually, every newcomer gets their turn on the dragon bed. As long as she met the Emperor, there was still hope of a comeback, a chance to get her plans back on track. But for half a month, the Emperor was busy with state affairs (forced to do it as a cover for Eunuch Chief Yvonne), and barely visited the rear palace. And when he finally had free time, he only doted on Imperial Consort Mia Wise—no one else got a turn.
After all this time, not only had she failed to make a splash, she hadn’t even seen the Emperor’s face. She was a legendary beauty stuck sharing a big dorm with the other consorts, no private palace. Her only loyal maid was the one she brought with her—everyone else had their own agendas. Even her direct staff combined didn’t outnumber the Seven Calabash Brothers. Yesterday, she tried to get some incense from the Internal Affairs Bureau, but they gave her the cold shoulder and claimed they were out.
She’d become a consort above thousands, but her quality of life had plummeted—way worse than when she was just a talented girl. This was miserable, totally hopeless!
—If this were the old Charlotte Cloud, she’d be panicking by now. But ever since the Lady Mother's Temple disaster with Jade Hawk Johnson, she’d actually become much calmer. His devilish words were fading like a dream—she didn’t wake up in a cold sweat anymore. But the impact of that event hadn’t vanished—it was buried deep inside her, like a seed she hadn’t even noticed.