BDSMST -Chapter 79 An Impregnable Line of Defense

The bait had been cast. The trap had been laid.

Gu Yan and Jiang Suisui waited—waiting for the hand hidden in the darkness to lose patience and reach toward Woniu Village.

The days of waiting felt especially long.

By day, the estate remained as peaceful and industrious as ever. The youths worked inside the greenhouses, the women mended clothes in the courtyards, and the aroma of meals drifted from the kitchen chimneys. Everything seemed no different from before.

But anyone paying close attention would notice the subtle changes beneath the calm.

The boys who once wandered casually between the greenhouses now moved in pairs or groups, whether intentionally or not. Their routes had become more deliberate, always ensuring that a companion remained within sight.

At the estate’s main gate, where only an elderly gatekeeper once stood watch, there were now two young farmhands splitting firewood nearby—though in truth, their eyes were constantly scanning the surroundings.

Even the children herding sheep on the hillside now carried small bamboo whistles at their waists. Gu Yan had taught them: three short blasts meant strangers approaching; one long, continuous note meant immediate danger.

Gu Yan had applied everything he learned on the battlefield to protecting this small estate. He taught the boys how to use terrain to conceal themselves, how to judge whether someone was lurking by observing the reactions of birds and animals, and how to craft effective alarm devices from the simplest tools.

Those once-idle young men—formerly known for cockfights and idle pleasures—had undergone a complete transformation under his guidance. Their gazes sharpened, their movements grew agile, and the air of laziness about them was replaced with steadiness and competence.

They were no longer just laborers on a farm.

They were becoming guardians of their home.

One night, the wind rose.

It wailed across the fields, rattling the window paper with sharp flutters.

Li Rui, standing night watch atop the eastern lookout tower, tightened his cloak and stared unblinkingly at the stretch of woodland rolling in the moonlight.

Suddenly, several night birds roosting in an old locust tree at the forest’s edge burst into flight, flapping into the dark sky.

Li Rui’s heart clenched.

He remembered Gu Yan’s instruction: When the night is still and birds startle without cause, there must be movement.

Without hesitation, he grabbed the bronze whistle hanging from his neck and blew with all his strength—three short, piercing blasts.

“Tweet! Tweet! Tweet!”

The crisp whistle shattered the silence of the night.

Almost at the same moment it sounded, lanterns flared to life in houses across the estate that had been dark just seconds before.

Gu Yan sprang from the bed in one motion. Snatching the longsword from beside it, he rushed out wearing only his inner robe, not even pausing to put on an outer coat.

“What’s happening?” Jiang Suisui jolted awake as well, throwing on a robe and hurrying after him.

“Eastern woods! Something’s there!” Gu Yan barked without turning back. “Stay inside—don’t go anywhere!”

Before his words had even finished echoing, hurried footsteps filled the courtyard. Wei Ziqian had already assembled the “rapid-response team” of ten elite youths. Each held a long staff, standing in tight formation.

“Marquis!” Wei Ziqian’s voice sounded remarkably steady in the night wind.

“Team One, guard the main gate! Team Two, with me!” Gu Yan wasted no time. Sword in hand, he led five of the boys, shooting toward the eastern wall like arrows released from a bowstring.

In that instant, the entire estate transformed into a finely tuned war machine operating at full speed.

Those assigned to defense, to reinforcement, to logistics—each moved to their role in perfect order.

Jiang Suisui stood beneath the eaves, watching the figures sprinting through the darkness without panic, watching Gu Yan’s back—solid and dependable as a mountain.

The anxiety that had gripped her heart miraculously settled.

Gu Yan and his men silently took position beneath the eastern wall.

Gu Yan did not rush out. Instead, he pressed himself against the base of the wall and listened carefully to the sounds beyond.

The wind. The rustling of grass and trees. And… extremely faint, deliberately suppressed footsteps.

More than one.

From the rhythm and spacing of the steps alone, Gu Yan instantly judged that there were at least five intruders—and all of them well-trained.

Under the cover of night, they were slowly closing in on the estate.

“They’re planning to scale the wall,” Gu Yan gestured to Wei Ziqian beside him.

Wei Ziqian nodded in understanding, his eyes gleaming with both excitement and tension.

A cold smile curled at the corner of Gu Yan’s lips.

He had long anticipated they would choose this direction for entry. The eastern wall bordered dense woodland—the perfect cover. That was precisely why he had made thorough preparations both inside and outside this stretch of wall.

He waited patiently, like a master hunter awaiting the precise moment his prey stepped into the trap.

At last, a dark figure darted out of the forest and nimbly climbed onto the top of the wall.

Just as he prepared to swing himself down inside—

The footing beneath him suddenly gave way.

“Ah!” A short cry of alarm.

What he had stepped on was not solid masonry but a cleverly disguised, movable plank. Beneath it lay a shallow pit over three feet deep, its bottom lined with sharpened bamboo stakes.

The height and stakes were not lethal—but they were more than enough to throw him off balance and leave him bloodied in an instant.

Almost simultaneously, several large nets—already prepared on the inner side—dropped from above, completely ensnaring two other black-clad figures who had just made it over the wall.

“Ambush! Retreat!” a low voice commanded from outside.

The remaining intruders did not hesitate. Seeing the situation turn, they immediately tried to withdraw into the forest.

“Trying to leave?” Gu Yan let out a cold snort. “Too late.”

He kicked open a small side gate and charged out with sword in hand. Wei Ziqian and the others shouted as they followed close behind.

The black-clad men clearly had not expected such a swift response from a rural estate—nor that its defenders would dare to pursue them aggressively. They fought while retreating, but Gu Yan quickly caught up.

Under the moonlight, his blade traced arcs of deadly brilliance.

He did not strike to kill. Each thrust deliberately avoided vital points, instead piercing wrists and ankles with precise accuracy—crippling their ability to move.

The shadowy figures who had seemed like phantoms in the dark were reduced to lambs awaiting slaughter before him.

In fewer than ten exchanges, every intruder was either captured or wounded, sprawled on the ground and unable to rise.

With the tip of his sword, Gu Yan lifted the face covering of one of them, revealing a nondescript face—the kind belonging to a professional assassin.

The man stared at Gu Yan with shock and disbelief. Their mission had supposedly been simple: infiltrate a rural farm and eliminate a defenseless scholar. Who could have imagined that this estate concealed such a terrifying god of slaughter?

Gu Yan did not interrogate them. He knew men like these would yield nothing useful.

Instead, he looked coldly at the apparent leader and said, “Go back and tell your master this: Woniu Village is not a place where he can run wild. If there’s a next time, it won’t end with just broken limbs.”

With that, he sheathed his sword and turned back toward the estate, the youths escorting the two live captives tangled in nets.

Left behind were the groaning assassins and the wreckage of their failed assault.

The crisis had erupted—and been resolved—within moments.