TRBDM -Chapter 233 Blades and Shadows

Xie Chuan stepped out of the secret chamber, firmly locking the door behind him, and double-checked everything before turning around.

“Master, where are we going?”

Five guards followed closely, speaking in hushed tones. They had been assigned to protect the main residence and took all orders from Xie Chuan.

“First to the Moyun Courtyard. My eldest sister and Shuxin are women—I need to make sure they’re safe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Xie Chuan’s expression was solemn. He cautiously peeked around—the sounds of fighting were coming from afar, and for now, the ancestral hall was safe.

From the clash he could hear, he sensed the attackers were fierce and numerous.

The situation was urgent, leaving no room for delay. Xie Chuan immediately ran toward the Moyun Courtyard, the guards close behind.

Along the way, they encountered a few scattered assassins.

Flustered, Xie Chuan drew an arrow. Swish—the arrow flew and landed just at the assassin’s feet.

Though it didn’t hit the target, it halted the assassin’s advance.

“Archers! Watch out!” the assassins warned each other.

Xie Chuan’s first shot had lacked power, range, and accuracy due to his nervousness. But having fired once, his hands steadied noticeably for the following shots.

“Master, you go ahead. The three of us will hold the rear and block them.”

Three of the guards stopped and turned to face the approaching assassins.

“Alright. Stay safe—if you can’t win, retreat. Don’t risk your lives.”

After giving instructions, Xie Chuan took the remaining two guards and ran toward the Moyun Courtyard.

The courtyard gate stood wide open. Xie Chuan’s heart sank.

“Eldest sister, Shuxin—”

Sure enough, the moment he entered, he saw several assassins engaged in combat with the guards.

Without hesitation, Xie Chuan drew another arrow, pulled the bow, and released.

This time, he didn’t miss—the arrow struck one assassin in the calf.

“Ah—!”

The assassin howled in pain and was kicked back by a guard.

“Master, great shot!”

Even amid the chaos, the guards didn’t forget to praise Xie Chuan.

Xie Chuan felt a flicker of pride at the compliment, his spirit soaring.

“Come on! Taste the power of a master archer!”

He quickly nocked arrow after arrow, releasing them in rapid succession.

Unfortunately, the assassins had anticipated him this time and dodged every shot.

Xie Chuan cursed under his breath and drew another arrow.

This time, as he pulled the bow, he shouted loudly, “Eldest sister, Little Sister, are you in there?”

Xie Wanrou and Dou Shuxin were protected by three guards, hiding in the innermost room of the bedchamber.

They could clearly hear the metallic clang of weapons clashing outside—each strike sent a jolt through Xie Wanrou’s heart.

Dou Shuxin gripped her hand tightly. “Eldest sister, don’t be afraid. I’m here.”

Xie Wanrou looked at the frail Dou Shuxin. Although she was younger, in the face of danger, Dou Shuxin instinctively shielded Xie Wanrou.

Xie Wanrou understood that Shuxin had always been resolute, her temperament stronger than her own.

Being protected by her, she felt moved but also a pang of guilt.

She was supposed to be the eldest sister—the one who protected her younger sibling.

Taking a deep breath, Xie Wanrou stepped in front of Shuxin, shielding her. “Shuxin, Xie Chuan is here. He’ll get us out.”

“Eldest sister, don’t move. Let me stand in front.” Dou Shuxin lowered her voice.

“Shush, Shuxin. Don’t speak.”

“……”

Now was not the time to argue. Shuxin could only fall silent, holding her breath and watching the situation outside.

“Ah—!”

A miserable scream rang out. Xie Wanrou froze. “That’s Chuan’s voice… he’s hurt.”

In the courtyard, an assassin had ambushed Xie Chuan from behind, stabbing him in the lower back.

He yelled, gritted his teeth, and spun around, thrusting the long arrow in his hand into the assassin’s chest.

Blood spurted onto his face, and he instinctively shut his eyes.

The heavy stench of blood hit him, almost making him vomit.

Xie Chuan had never killed anyone before. His hands would not stop trembling.

A guard ran over and pulled him behind a stone sculpture for cover.

The guard tore off a strip of cloth and pressed it against the wound at Xie Chuan’s lower back.

“Eldest Young Master, you’re injured. Hide here for now. There are too many assassins—we’re outnumbered and no match for them.”

The guard himself was wounded, his arm and thigh slashed several times by the assassins’ daggers.

“Be careful,” Xie Chuan said, his face twisted in pain. Even as the guard left, he did not forget to warn him.

The guard glanced back and smiled. “Thank you for your concern, Eldest Young Master.”

After the guard left, Xie Chuan grimaced in agony.

Clutching the cloth at his lower back with great effort, he leaned out to look at the fighting in the courtyard.

With just one glance, his eyes turned red.

The guard who had just saved him lay in a pool of blood, eyes unmoving—already dead.

The tide of battle shifted sharply for the worse. Fewer and fewer guards remained standing in the courtyard, until only two were left, barely holding on.

Xie Chuan’s bow had fallen not far from the stone sculpture. He wanted to retrieve it, but the moment he moved, pain broke out across his body in a cold sweat.

If he hadn’t clenched his teeth, he would have cried out long ago.

If his hiding place were exposed, he would surely die.

At Anhe Courtyard, Xie Lan was shielding Wei Zhaorong as they ran toward the ancestral hall, assassins chasing closely behind.

Wei Zhaorong was older and could not run fast.

“Lan’er, don’t worry about me. Go—quickly!”

She pushed Xie Lan, urging him to leave.

“No, Mother. I won’t go.”

Xie Lan was taut as a drawn bowstring, his heart pounding wildly—but he was not afraid.

Because in his mind, he was calculating every possibility with precision.

For instance, the assassins were twenty meters behind them. Up ahead, after the turn, there were two paths—one a hidden bamboo trail, the other the main road.

If he led Wei Zhaorong past the corner and she entered the bamboo grove first, he could seize the chance to lure the assassins away.

Having planned everything, Xie Lan kept running, pulling Wei Zhaorong along.

“Mother, there’s a bamboo grove ahead. Hide there when we reach it—I’ll draw the assassins away.”

Wei Zhaorong refused immediately.

“No, Lan’er. You go into the grove. I’ll lead them away.”

Xie Lan said nothing. There was no way he would let his mother be hurt.

She had given him everything he had now. He had yet to earn official honors, yet to repay her with filial devotion—how could he let her fall into danger?

She must live to a hundred years!

They sprinted forward. The bamboo grove lay just beyond the corner.

After rounding it, the two of them disappeared from the assassins’ sight.

Wei Zhaorong had just opened her mouth to speak when a powerful shove suddenly pushed her into the bamboo grove.

In that desperate instant, she only saw Xie Lan’s lips form the words: “Run!”

Before she could react, Xie Lan turned back toward the corner, revealing half his body.

“There he is!” an assassin shouted from behind.

Without looking back, Xie Lan ran forward.

The bamboo grove was dense. Wei Zhaorong hid within it, gasping for breath.

In less than two breaths, several figures flashed past the grove at high speed.

The assassins had been led away by Xie Lan.

As he ran, Xie Lan calculated routes in his mind.

But he was, after all, a scholar. His strength lay in brush and ink—not in fleeing for his life.

His legs felt as heavy as lead, his chest aching as though sliced by blades with every breath he took.

The well-trained assassins soon caught up to him.

One raised his blade, cold light flashing.

Reflected on the blade’s surface were Xie Lan’s resolute eyes.

Whoosh!

An arrow tore through the air, striking the assassin squarely in the chest.