DLERB -Chapter 13 I Got Lost — Can You Open the Door?

Deep within the corridors of Xianyang Prison, Ying Ziye’s tiny figure was about to disappear into the darkness.

“Young Master!!”

Li Si let out a miserable cry.

He struggled up from the ground in a panic, crawling and stumbling forward. His official hat was crooked, and his graying hair hung in disarray.

He rushed toward Ying Ziye and threw himself at the child’s feet, clutching tightly onto his little leg.

“Young Master! You must not go! Absolutely not!”

Tears streamed down Li Si’s face, his old features twisted together.

“That Luowang den is a tiger’s lair! A dragon’s lair— a death trap!”

“You are of noble blood, worth more than ten thousand pieces of gold! How can you personally venture into such danger?!”

“This old minister begs you! If anything happens to you, even dying ten thousand times would not redeem my sins!”

Ying Ziye stopped walking.

He lowered his head and looked at the Chancellor of Great Qin hugging his leg while crying messily.

At some point, the filthy jailer’s clothing he had worn earlier had already been changed.

In its place was a neat black combat outfit that outlined his tiny body like a spirit of the night.

At his waist hung a gleaming dagger.

A puzzled expression appeared on Ying Ziye’s face.

Stretching out his little hand, he patted Li Si on the back.

“Chancellor, why are you crying?”

Li Si looked up through tear-filled eyes and choked out:

“Young Master… you can’t go…”

“I just can’t sleep, so I’m going out for a walk.”

Ying Ziye grinned cheerfully, revealing two adorable little tiger teeth.

“Don’t worry, Chancellor. I’ll be back soon to sleep.”

As he spoke, he gently shook his leg.

Li Si suddenly felt an irresistible force surge through him, easily knocking his arms away.

Helplessly, he watched that tiny black figure skip away into the darkness beyond the prison exit.

Li Si collapsed onto the icy floor, his face pale as death.

The night grew even deeper.

Wutong Alley.

This was one of the most remote alleys in Xianyang, with few residents and little traffic even during normal times.

Tonight, it was as silent as a land of ghosts.

At both ends of the alley, beneath walls, upon rooftops, within every shadow—

Black-clad figures blended perfectly into the darkness.

Three thousand Jinyiwei had sealed the area tighter than an iron barrel.

In the middle section of the alley stood an utterly ordinary-looking residence.

Outside its gates—

Qinglong knelt on one knee with dozens of elite Jinyiwei beside him.

Their eyes were fixed firmly upon the tightly shut courtyard doors.

Light footsteps echoed softly.

Ying Ziye appeared.

“Greetings, Young Master!”

Qinglong and all the Jinyiwei knelt silently in perfect unison.

Ying Ziye waved his little hand.

“Get up.”

He glanced at the residence, then at the battle-ready Qinglong.

“Don’t move.”

Qinglong froze.

“Young Master?”

“I’ll go in alone.”

Hands clasped behind his back, Ying Ziye slowly walked toward the courtyard gate.

Qinglong’s heart leapt into his throat.

“Young Master! There are many experts inside—”

Without turning around, Ying Ziye simply waved his hand dismissively.

“They’re not worthy.”

Qinglong stared at the tiny figure.

In the end, he said nothing more.

He tightened his grip around the hilt at his waist, every muscle in his body tensed.

If even the slightest abnormal sound came from inside, he would immediately lead his men and flatten the entire residence.

Ying Ziye walked up to the gate.

He raised his pale little hand.

Knock.

Knock.

Knock.

The crisp knocking echoed clearly through the silent alley.

Standing on tiptoe, he pressed his mouth near the door and called out in an innocent childish voice:

“Is anyone home?”

“I… I got lost and can’t find my way home anymore… wuwuwu…”

He even pretended to sniffle twice.

Inside the courtyard, there was complete silence.

After a moment—

Creak—

A small wooden hatch in the gate slid open.

A pair of wary eyes peered out through the crack.

What they saw was a delicate little child dressed in black.

The child rubbed his eyes, his tiny face full of fear and grievance, looking utterly harmless.

The assassin inside relaxed slightly.

So late at night, a lost young master from some wealthy family?

Maybe they could kidnap him and extort a fortune.

Creak—

The heavy courtyard gate slowly opened a crack.

The assassin leaned halfway out, just about to speak—

Then, in his vision—

The crying child from one second earlier suddenly lost all expression.

What replaced it was absolute coldness.

Not good!

Alarm bells rang wildly in the assassin’s mind. He spun around, trying to shut the door.

Too late.

Ying Ziye’s tiny fist had already arrived.

There was no sound of wind.

No unnecessary movement.

Just a simple, direct punch.

Bang!

A dull thud echoed out.

The assassin’s chest visibly caved in at a speed the naked eye could follow.

The terror on his face froze in place.

His entire body flew backward like a smashed sack, crashing heavily into the decorative wall inside the courtyard.

He did not even manage to scream before sliding to the ground, motionless.

“Wuuuu— Wuuuu— Wuuuu—”

A piercing alarm instantly shattered the courtyard’s silence.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

More than a dozen black-clad figures emerged from every corner of the courtyard like ghosts.

From the rooftops.

Behind the artificial rockery.

From the treetops.

Holding all kinds of deadly blades, they completely surrounded Ying Ziye.

A chilling killing intent immediately locked onto the uninvited guest.

Ying Ziye did not even glance at the corpse on the ground.

He casually patted his little hands, as though dust had gotten on them.

Then he raised his head and looked around at the hostile men in black.

An incomparably bright and innocent smile spread across his tiny face.

“Wow! So many uncles!”

“Are you all here to… play with me?”

The dozen Luowang assassins were all stunned.

They looked at the smiling eight-year-old child before them, then at the corpse beneath the wall with its shattered chest bones.

A feeling both absurd and horrifying rose in their hearts.

A scar-faced man who seemed to be the leader stepped forward.

The moment he clearly saw Ying Ziye’s face, his pupils suddenly shrank.

It… it was him!

The Ninth Young Master who had punched Yan Le to death in front of all the civil and military officials inside Qilin Hall!

How had he found this place?!

Fear lasted only for an instant.

The next moment, endless killing intent burst forth from Scarface’s eyes.

No matter how he got here—

Since he had come, he would not be leaving alive!

Killing the prince regent of the Qin court—

That was a heaven-sent achievement!

Scarface did not hesitate in the slightest. His voice was hoarse and vicious.

“Kill him!”

At the command—

All the Luowang assassins moved at the same time.

Blade flashes!

Sword shadows!

Poison-coated daggers!

Dozens of deadly cold gleams intertwined into a net of death in the night sky, descending from every direction toward that tiny figure.

However—

Ying Ziye’s figure vanished from where he stood.

Every attack struck empty air.

“Where is he?!”

One assassin cried out in shock.

“Behind you.”

A childish voice sounded from behind him.

The assassin’s hairs stood on end. He spun around violently and thrust out his sword.

What he pierced was still only air.

Ying Ziye’s figure moved through the siege of more than a dozen assassins like a ghost.

He clearly was not that fast.

Yet every single time, he avoided every fatal strike by the smallest margin imaginable.

Like a spirit dancing upon knife edges, he moved with effortless ease.

“Trash.”

Ying Ziye’s voice rang out again.

This time, he stopped dodging.

One assassin seized the opportunity. A savage grin flashed across his face as the longsword in his hand shot forward like a venomous snake, stabbing straight toward Ying Ziye’s heart.

Ying Ziye watched the sword tip draw closer and closer without moving at all.

Just as the blade was about to touch his chest—

He raised his hand.

Clenched his fist.

And threw a punch.

His fist was not aimed at the assassin—

But at the finely forged steel sword itself.

“You’re courting death!”

The assassin sneered inwardly.

Using a bare fist against a blade?

This little bastard had gone insane!

The next moment—

The smile on his face froze.

Clang—!

A deafening sound exploded out.

Ying Ziye’s fist collided head-on with the sword.

There was no scene of flesh and blood flying everywhere.

Crack!

A crisp shattering sound rang out.

Under the assassin’s horrified gaze—

The finely forged steel sword shattered inch by inch!