Night.
High walls, gray tiles, cobblestone alleys.
At both ends of the alley, over ten armored soldiers wielding long knives stood solemnly, trapping Chen Ji and the Spy tightly between them. Chen Ji flexed his wrists, removing the cloth strip from his mouth.
One of the armored soldiers looked down at the uneven cobblestones, where a freshly severed hemp rope lay quietly, its cut clean and neat.
The soldier's face abruptly changed. He slowly placed the blade in front of himself, cautiously and seriously sizing up Chen Ji before him.
The strike he delivered just moments ago was meant to be lethal, but it unintentionally saved a life. The blade had not even nicked Chen Ji—not too much, nor too little.
That instant had been extremely fast, and while others might not have seen clearly, he knew precisely where his blade was aimed.
A coincidence?
Impossible.
He slowly angled his blade toward Chen Ji, whispering to his colleagues, "There's a master among them."
