0032. The Contest of Speed

That night, in the little house, the lamp flickered like a bean. Zheng Fanren spoke gloomily, “I went to the Pavilion of Physique today. I still can’t cultivate, so tonight I must carry out that task.”

Dongmei, startled, asked, “If you know you can’t cultivate, why must you go?”

Zheng Fanren replied, “Precisely because I can’t cultivate, I must go immediately. He can, and I cannot. The longer I wait, the harder it becomes. Give me the map.”

Dongmei still wished to stop him, lowering her head and saying nothing.

Understanding her intention, Zheng Fanren deliberately smiled. “If you’ve played certain games, a Sealing Mystic is at best a support role. With the right tactics, physical attacks can take him down.”

According to the old man’s theory, a Sealing Mystic uses mystic force to form a cage-like structure, stable enough to sever a cultivator’s connection, trapping their mystic device within.

Dongmei listened, not fully comprehending, but sensed some truth in his words.

Zheng Fanren was undeterred. He donned his night attire, wrapping his head tightly in black cloth, leaving only his eyes exposed, looking quite comical.

Knowing she could not stop him, Dongmei looked at his appearance and could not help but smile.

Her smile was beautiful. Zheng Fanren stared at her, motionless.

The girl, a little embarrassed, quickly took a hand-drawn map from beneath the mattress and handed it to him.

Zheng Fanren studied it several times, then praised, “In a world where everyone believes in mystic force, your ability to completely block it is invaluable.”

The girl ignored his praise, still worried. Knowing she could do nothing more, she solemnly said, “Be careful.”

Zheng Fanren left swiftly; in a blink, not even a sound remained.

The lamp, which had returned to its usual state, flickered again.

The Han man was already standing in the room. In truth, his speed was not extraordinary, but since Dongmei had kept her eyes on the lamp after Zheng Fanren departed, it felt as if the man arrived in an instant.

He knew she was worried, so he had to say, “I won’t go. I will stay by your side. But I know someone who certainly will.”

Dongmei asked, puzzled, “Who?”

The Han man replied, “Gao Xian.”

…

As night deepened, Zheng Fanren slipped like a phantom into the courtyard behind the Wan family pawnshop, facing the street.

The mansion was grand and opulent, covering several acres, yet at night it was equally silent. Lanterns hung at various corridors and garden bends, swaying gently in the evening breeze, casting dim light.

The layout of the buildings varied, making it impossible to deduce the master’s quarters by experience alone.

After entering the courtyard, Zheng Fanren did not rush ahead. He stood quietly, observing his surroundings.

He needed to familiarize himself with the scenery and layout, confirm his position on the map, and check for any night guards.

After about half an hour, he crouched and moved towards the inner residence.

Suddenly, he stopped behind a cluster of flowering trees, keenly noticing a lantern at the corner of the corridor. Beneath it, a house leopard lay lazily.

Zheng Fanren’s brow furrowed. Wan Lixing kept a house leopard—a troublesome detail.

A leopard’s sense of smell and hearing far surpass those of ordinary people; it can detect strangers from a distance.

If it locked onto him, things would turn dire.

He cautiously moved closer, but still from afar, the leopard suddenly raised its head, looking around and sniffing alertly, sensing something unusual.

Zheng Fanren halted, refraining from advancing. He considered killing the leopard, but just as he was about to act, a thought struck him: “The Wan family is so wealthy, having traded in Han lands for years; this mansion is lavish. How could it lack night guards?”

He pondered Dongmei’s map, comparing it to the surroundings, and could not help but sigh, “That little girl’s knowledge of architecture is masterful!”

Soon, he fixated on a mystic pine tree—a common choice for wealthy Han estates, famed for its dense foliage.

Its position in the courtyard was ideal, offering a view of the entire grounds—perfect for a night watch.

Moreover, the pine’s bark matched the color of the servants’ gray attire, making the guard’s presence difficult to detect.

A cool summer breeze drifted by, pleasant and refreshing, causing the pine to tremble slightly. Zheng Fanren was startled, thinking, “That’s no wind!”

Indeed, a shadow bent its knees and vaulted onto a branch.

The guard evidently believed no one would intrude and sought a brief rest.

His physical skills were impressive; in a flash, he leapt half a yard high, grabbed a branch, pulled himself up, twisted his waist, and landed perfectly on the limb.

That slight tremor upon landing alerted Zheng Fanren, so that when the guard closed his eyes to rest, a dagger was already at his throat.

Zheng Fanren, who could escape thirteen archers in pursuit, owed this to his peerless speed.

The guard was experienced; without waiting for Zheng Fanren to speak, he tried to drop swiftly in the opposite direction of the dagger.

Zheng Fanren’s lips curled in a smile, following him down, the dagger never leaving his throat.

Once on the ground, Zheng Fanren’s other hand clamped the guard’s neck, speaking softly, “You feel like moving?”

The man could not speak, barely able to breathe. Zheng Fanren continued, “You know my speed. Move again, and my dagger won’t spare you.”

He released the guard’s neck, whose mouth opened slightly. Zheng Fanren quickly covered it, saying, “Quiet! Unless you want to die.”

After releasing his hand, the guard felt the dagger pressed firmly against his carotid artery. Knowing there would be no further chances, he nodded and replied in a trembling whisper, “What do you require?”

Zheng Fanren thought, “Glad he’s not a fool.”

He spoke coldly, “Deal with the leopard first.”

The guard asked, grimacing, “How?”

Zheng Fanren pressed the dagger more firmly. “You’re familiar with it. Call it over, and before it can make a sound, knock it out. Only you can do this. If you fail and it cries out, it means you deserve to die.”

The guard’s last hope evaporated. Helpless, he called, “Leopard! Leopard!”

Such a terrifying creature, yet named ‘Leopard Baby.’ Zheng Fanren, standing behind the guard, was speechless.

The house leopard had just looked around, sensing nothing amiss, and resumed its rest.

Hearing the call, its ears perked up. Recognizing the guard’s voice, it wagged its tail and trotted over.

A beast is a beast, after all. Despite its extraordinary senses, even mystics could not escape its notice.

Yet the intruder stood right here, and with a familiar companion, it could not distinguish friend from foe.

Leopard Baby came to the guard’s side, sniffed his boot toe, then looked up, wagging its tail, perhaps thinking the guard was bored and wanted to play.

Zheng Fanren pressed the dagger closer, his eyes cold. The guard’s face grew more bitter.

He had no choice. His skill lay in his powerful legs. Under Zheng Fanren’s threat, he suddenly kicked Leopard Baby on the head.

The leopard, expecting friendly interaction, never imagined the trusted guard would attack.

Instantly, it collapsed limp to the ground. Zheng Fanren noted, “His attack speed is commendable.”

Had he hesitated even a moment, the leopard would surely have cried out.

The guard secretly breathed a sigh of relief, glad to have preserved his life for now.

Just as he relaxed, darkness engulfed his vision, pain struck the back of his head, and he lost consciousness.