In one of the most reputable inns across the vast territory ruled over by the Wuyi Sect, a martial arts expert was leisurely partaking in drink and the attention of the locals.

Wei Qing, colloquially known as the Heart Seeking Finger, was a dark haired man with a long, remarkably smooth, glistening beard, across which he ran his deadly fingers with great frequency and delight. He had killed dozens of men, and a dozen of them had some renown to their names. He was not oblivious to the tension present in the air even as every word of his was showered with praise by the group of wealthy scions and merchants hovering over his table, for the men present knew that he could kill them all on a whim. He was well aware of his own reputation, and found it no shame at all to enjoy the fruits of his labor. His chief amusement lied in nitpicking their words for things at which to take offense, only to laugh it off and pretend that he had merely been speaking in jest. 

He would then keep mental notes of those with whom he tried to pick a fight, and had they been foolish enough to neglect to make an apology to him in the form of a gift within the next week, made trouble for them. 

And yet the wealthy strove to endear themselves to him not just for his powerful connections as one of the most senior disciples of the Wuyi sect's headmaster, but for the chance to put his famous skills and ruthless subordinates to use for their own benefit. They laughed at his jokes, cheered at his stories, and showered him with compliments and drink.

Wei Qing's merry evening had ceased abruptly when a stranger entered the inn. People of all sorts passed through the establishment, and yet this particular individual drew the silence of not only the sycophants and the subject of their unceasing flattery, but the rest of the patrons as well.

A tall, young woman wearing a pale blue robe gracefully walked across the room. Although the gentle roundness of her facial features alone could be considered attractive enough to draw attention, what truly lulled the crowd into such shock was her hair, which, untied, reached down slightly below the woman's waist and looked as though it was made of gold. 

Heedless of the onlookers, she approached the counter and placed her hand upon it. The sleeve of her robe was so long that even the proprietor, who stood right in front of her, never got the chance to see a single finger of her hand. The oppressive silence was interrupted by something thumping against the wood.

"Please show me to my room." The woman's voice broke the silence for good. The patrons seemed to take it as a cue to regain their wits and began to gossip in hushed tones. None present had ever seen a woman with such eccentric appearance.

As the woman slid her sleeve away, a golden tael was left on the counter, the sight of which helped the proprietor come back to his senses. The pudgy man clasped his hands together and began to nod eagerly with a big, silly grin on his face, gesturing towards the staircase as he began to lead the way while chattering on and on about the menu, the locale, the services, the weather, and whatever else came to mind.

The woman turned her head in the opposite direction. Her gaze picked Wei Qing out of all the other patrons and lingered on him. The old master's heart began to thump. They stood halfway across the large room, but his extensive cultivation gifted him with eyesight that was better than most. The woman's eyes were the same color as her hair, only ever so slightly darker. He found himself somewhat unnerved at the sight, and began to rub his smooth beard. Suddenly, the woman smiled. It was a small smile, almost like a smirk. Wei Qing clenched his beard. The slight nervousness he felt was instantly evaporated by the heat of his excitement.

Although, he was still at a loss about what he should have done next. As he hesitated, the woman turned away and followed the proprietor upstairs. Wei Qing's hand finished one last lap across his beard and returned to his cup. He chuckled to his fellows. All of them asked what his relation to that mysterious woman was, but Wei Qing kept things vague.

Later that night, as the merriment winded down and the guests retired for the night, Wei Qing snuck out of his room. The wooden floorboards did not creak nor even budge beneath his feet, as if the old man was entirely weightless. He stopped next to a door and perked up his ears, listening. After a while, his ears hadn't picked up on anything out of the ordinary - or much of anything at all - from within that room, so he set his hand down on the doorknob and gently pulled. The door squeaked lightly as it opened, and he slowed down even more. When the gap was wide enough for him to fit through, he had entered the room in a single swift, silent movement, just as gently pulling the door behind him to a close.

He took his time with it. His eyes ran across the spacious room, illuminated by nothing but a speck of moonlight seeping through the closed window. In the large bed on the other end of the room, with only her head above the covers, a woman lied on her back, her long hair haphazardly thrown about across her pillow and sheets.

As soon as the door closed, Wei Qing leaped towards the bed. His fingers struck out at several of the woman's pressure points. Wei Qing's expertise was such that even through the woman's loose robes he could perceive the finer points of her anatomy; even with her body hidden beneath a heavy blanket, his accuracy was unimpeded. Even had the darkness been absolute, he would need only to feel the outline of a stranger's body no more than once for the location of all of their pressure points to reveal itself within his mind's eye. If he could not manage even that much, then he could make guesses with a frightening degree of accuracy.

In the unforgivingly precise art of pressure point sealing techniques, such things were practically unconceivable.

His 5 strikes had begun and ended in the blink of the eye. With those pressure points sealed, the woman would not be able to move any of her limbs. Wei Qing threw aside the blanket and mounted her at the waist. The expression beneath his beard was giddy, and he breathed heavily. His fingers greedily grasped the mounds beneath her nightgown, and soon he went higher, exploring her collarbone, her shoulders, her armpits, her neck, her face. Wei Qing parted her lips with his thumb, ogling at the pearly whites and tongue underneath. The breathing Wei Qing felt on his moist fingers was deep and steady. 

By now, his vision had adjusted to the dark as well as they ever would. Wei Qing looked into her eyes, and found the woman staring back at him. The only thing expressed in those yellow eyes was indifference. Once again he began to felt that same pang of fear he had felt when their eyes met for the first time. 

Suddenly, he felt something digging into his armpits. He found himself getting lifted up off the bed. His heart skipped a beat, and would never get the opportunity to beat again. The final thought running through his mind was that he hadn't checked the room thoroughly enough, that someone else was hiding in it. Wei Qing flew backwards across the room like a shot arrow.

As his head collided with the door, his neck broke instantly. But even if Wei Qing had had the rest of his natural lifespan to mull over that night's events, he would not have ever arrived at the conclusion that it was the woman who had lifted up her legs, dug her toes into his armpits and flung him across the room with humongous power. First of all, her pressure points were sealed; to the master, this matter was simply unquestionable. Second of all, even with full control of all their limbs, who could possibly exert that much force from such an awkward position?

As Wei Qing smashed through the door, his limp body rolled up to the wall on the opposite end of the hallway. The explosive sound had woken all the patrons, on this floor and the next. One by one they began to step out of their rooms to take a peek outside, candles in hand. They gasped. Not one of them failed to recognize the master's broken body, and not one of them was foolish enough to speak to someone who was so clearly dead. 

The plump proprietor, too, had arrived, and screamed at the grisly scene. "Master Wei?!" In his shock he had nearly dropped his lantern. He turned back behind him and shouted. "Guo'er! Bai Fan! He Ru! Hurry!" 

A young man ran up from behind a corner, his dark hair tied up into a low ponytail, and a sword on his hip. "Uncle, what happened?" He asked the proprietor. Their way of addressing each other hinted at a familial tie, which would make the new arrival's given name Guo. As he examined the scene, the young man's eyes widened in shock. "Master Wei?!"

Guo was of half a mind to approach Wei Qing, but the crowd had suddenly heard a footstep from the room from which the master had been so violently tossed out of. The patrons gasped again, slinking back into their rooms, terrified. After all, who knew what went through that killer's head? No one was willing to put their life on the line just to sate their curiosity. Guo's uncle was sweating profusely, and clearly wanted nothing more but to hide somewhere just like his guests. Guo himself nervously clutched at his sword.

The golden haired woman stepped out of her room, dressed up in her pale blue robes. Without sparing the onlookers a glance, she crouched next to the corpse and began to go through Wei Qing's pockets. Eventually, she had plucked out an object and hid it beneath her long sleeve. With that done, she began to walk away.

Guo had finally mustered up enough courage to raise his voice. "Wait!" Guo's uncle gestured at him frantically as he had done so, unambiguously suggesting that they not draw her attention. But the woman continued on her way, soon turning a corner towards the stairs down. 

"What are you thinking!" Guo's uncle hissed, berating his nephew as loudly as a whisper could allow. "Against someone who could kill Master Wei, what chance do you have? If she's going, then good for her! Let her!"

The next moment, two more swordsmen arrived. Guo's uncle commanded them. "Go let the Wuyi Sect know! If they blame us for this, we're doomed."

Guo spoke up again. "Uncle, who was that?"

"I don't know." The plump man replied. "That lady has been the talk of the inn, but nobody knows her."

Guo squatted down next to Wei Qing's corpse. He gently lifted up a part of the dead man's gray shirt, examining a dot of blood seeping through. "He was stabbed by a blade no wider than a finger. I can see five wounds at least." Guo stepped away from the corpse, rubbing his chin in contemplation. "How could there be a martial artist even greater than Wei Qing with such remarkable appearance that no one has ever heard of before?"

"That's what the Wuyi Sect will want to know too! What if they don't believe us? Oh, heavens..." Guo's uncle leaned against a wall, his feet weak, the back of his wrist up against his forehead. "Perhaps she's wearing a disguise... Perhaps it's not a woman at all!" He raised his voice, and, fearfully catching his own excitement, lowered himself back to a whisper. "After all, have you ever seen a woman as tall as her?"

Guo mulled over it some more. "Uncle, you may be right. That's why I must look into this while she's still here."

"While she's still here? What are you thinking? Are you mad?" Guo's uncle exclaimed as his nephew broke out into a run. "Stay away from her, it's too dangerous! Bai Guo! Bai Guo, come back here right now!"

But Bai Guo would not stop, the loud voice of his uncle soon fading behind him. He chased after the mysterious woman, who by now had left the inn. Even this late at night, the bustling streets were well lit and filled to the brim with crowds. Bai Guo's eyes darted around the streets, and he could just barely spot a glimpse of golden locks at the edge of his vision. He sprinted after them.

...