The morning court session was still ongoing near noon, the first time such a situation had occurred since the emperor's ascension to the throne. The officials had been starving since early morning, and some, worried about Wu Yidao, were even more anxious. The emperor, however, seemed to be in a good mood, summoning officials from the six ministries one by one to inquire about trivial matters—quite trivial, and clearly casual, without any particular target.
As the sun neared its zenith in the south, the emperor suddenly remembered something and said, "Everyone's still hungry, aren't they?" The officials, thinking the morning court session was finally over, quickly said they weren't hungry. To their surprise, the emperor nodded and said, "Since you're not hungry, let's discuss a few more matters."
Many of them wanted to slap themselves.
For some reason, Songbai Tower had a sign that read "Closed for the Day." The doors were tightly shut, and even the wooden boards sealing the windows hadn't been removed. The flickering lanterns, lit before nightfall, still burned, swaying forlornly in the wind. It's considered very unlucky to have a lantern hanging at the entrance during the day; if the gate were open, it would look like a funeral hall. Of course, if the lantern had a large "funeral" character on it, it would look even more like one.
The owner of Songbai Tower was surnamed Du, but few knew his given name. He was the son of a steward in the household of a high-ranking official in the imperial court, and the tower was actually funded by that official. Owner Du knew he was just a doorman. Songbai Tower was merely a private gathering place for those important figures, and the back courtyard was not accessible to ordinary guests.
At this moment, Owner Du sat in the main hall of the front wooden building, lost in thought, his face showing some tension. Several young employees chatted idly, occasionally glancing at their boss, wondering what was going on today.
Owner Du wasn't allowed to go to the back courtyard, because a group of people, though not of dazzling status, were definitely influential.
These people were all trusted stewards of those important officials.
The high-ranking officials were still in court, and today's events were decided by these stewards gathered together. Their official positions weren't particularly prestigious; in essence, they were just servants. However, they were extremely loyal to their masters, which gave them access to high-level affairs. And because they were all clever, they had gained the trust of the officials.
If the information these people possessed were put together, it would definitely cause a sensation throughout Chang'an.
With the officials absent, they were the ones making the decisions.
Boss Du was filled with apprehension. Although he didn't know the specifics of what had happened, how could these stewards gathered in the backyard for something trivial? They couldn't have gathered such a complete set of information without something outrageous. Therefore, Boss Du didn't even dare go to the backyard, fearing he might overhear some terrible news that could cost him his head without explanation.
Just as he was lost in thought, there was a knock at the door.
Boss Du jumped in fright, and the abacus he was holding clattered onto the table. He stood up and listened intently, thinking the knocking was just his imagination.
*Knock, knock, knock—*
The knocking resumed, not loud but clear.
Boss Du's expression changed, and he gave a signal to a young shop assistant. The assistant rushed to the door and called out through the door, "The boss is busy at home today and won't be opening the door. Please leave, sir."
The knocking stopped, but the assistant didn't hear any footsteps. He pressed his ear to the door, listening intently, when suddenly he was thrown backward. Not only him, but a door panel flew out with him.
The wooden door was slammed open from the outside, and the assistant's body was trapped under the door panel after flying out. A painful groan immediately escaped, mixed with a few curses. Boss Du quickly emerged from behind the counter, his face grim as he looked towards the door.
A middle-aged man stood outside the door, dressed in a royal blue brocade robe.
He stood alone, hands clasped behind his back.
He was a tall, refined man, his robe perfectly tailored and spotless. He appeared to be around forty years old, with some shallow wrinkles around his brow. His looks weren't conventionally handsome, but he possessed the kind of charm that would make any woman swoon. He exuded the gravitas of a truly mature man—a deep and composed allure.
Beside him, a long wooden box stood on the ground, reaching his chest.
"San…San Jinhou!"
Boss Du's face suddenly turned extremely pale. He stammered out the name and instinctively took several steps back. Although he didn't know the specifics of the managers' arrangements for the day, he knew today was supposed to be San Jinhou's death day. Most of his men had been sent out to hunt him down, and yet this man was now standing at the entrance of Songbai Tower.
"I know many people want to see me, so I came myself."
San Jinhou picked up the long wooden box and stepped into Songbai Tower.
"What, not welcome?"
He asked.
…
…
Several young waiters rushed over, lifted the wooden door—which wasn't damaged except for the broken doorstop—to block the gap, and hurriedly shoved the door back in, holding onto the door but afraid to lower it. They stared in horror at the middle-aged man in his royal blue brocade robe, as if he were a demon just crawled out of hell.
San Jinhou continued to walk slowly forward, while Boss Du continued to back away.
"My lord… I have some private matters to attend to today and cannot open my shop. If you would like to eat and drink, please come again tomorrow, okay? Tomorrow, I'll have my chef prepare a table of Jiangnan cuisine for you—it'll be on me."
The Marquis of Sanjin smiled and said, "Thank you for your kindness, but you should know I don't lack money for food and drinks."
Boss Du retreated to the doorway leading to the backyard, unable to retreat any further: "My lord, please don't force me."
The Marquis of Sanjin's tone remained gentle: "Boss Du, one should be reasonable. Those people in the backyard of your Songbai Tower intend to kill me. Am I not allowed to come and ask why? If you insist on making me leave, you are the one forcing me, not me."
"Are you willing to step aside?"
He asked.
Boss Du subconsciously shook his head: "I can't let him in."
"Alright, goodbye."
San Jinhou smiled and said those four words. Then Boss Du's eyes suddenly blurred for a moment. When he looked again, San Jinhou was already standing less than half a meter in front of him. Before he could even shout, San Jinhou's hand rose and grabbed his throat, then he lifted him up and shoved him into the wooden wall of the doorway.
With a bang, half of Boss Du's body was shoved into the wall. His lower body hung outside the wooden wall, his legs still dangling back and forth. The young waiters holding onto the door in the lobby screamed in terror, but dared not move because of San Jinhou's words.
"Hold onto the door tightly. If anyone else comes in, you'll all die."
After saying this, San Jinhou walked slowly into the doorway. From the front lobby of Songbai Building to the back courtyard, there was initially a doorway. Beyond that was a corridor several tens of meters long, leading to a moon gate, and beyond that were individual courtyards.
As Sanjin Hou entered the corridor, he paused slightly, then a beautiful smile curved his lips.
At the same moment, several figures appeared behind the moon gate, surging in from outside, brandishing knives and rushing into the corridor. They were like a stream, while Sanjin Hou, standing alone, was like a stubborn rock. Would the rock block the stream, or would it be swept away by it?
The answer is that the rock flowed upstream.
Carrying a long wooden box in his left hand, Sanjin Hou strolled forward with an air of leisure, killing one person at a time. There was no sign of him dodging, yet the knives in his enemies' hands could not touch him. He used only one hand throughout, killing with every step, each step a fatal blow.
The corpses gradually covered the corridor floor, and Sanjin Hou walked on them. But his steps remained steady, his expression calm. It was as if he were casually swatting away a few swarming mosquitoes, not people. The assassin had just raised his knife when a fist appeared before him. The fist struck his forehead, and his hardened forehead collapsed.
If he could have seen his own face before he died, he would have felt nauseous. Half his face was gone, a large crater above his nose burying his forehead and eyes. Blood and brain matter slowly seeped from the bottom of the crater, finally gushing down his face. Meanwhile, the man who killed him had already taken five steps forward.
More and more corpses filled the corridor, blood seeping down the cracks in the bluestone slabs.
A dozen or so people were crammed into the moon gate, shifting and squeezing to look out. Everyone's face was filled with panic, their eyes radiating uncontrollable fear. If… if there were any other way out of this backyard, they would have run away long ago. Most of these stewards were ordinary people, incapable of scaling the high walls to escape.
The ruthless Jin Hou, who had been killing his way through the area, stopped about ten meters from the moon gate. Now, only two people remained between him and the stewards inside. A swordsman, clutching a longsword, coldly stared at him; an old man, empty-handed, sat on a nearby rock, his eyes chilling.
The two seemed utterly devoid of pity for the dead, whom they considered insignificant, like ants. Blood flowed to their feet, and their gazes were filled with disgust. The blood of those dead seemed unworthy to stain their boots; the only thing that interested them was the Marquis of Sanjin.
"The merchant is a master. The martial world of the Sui Dynasty is truly interesting."
The young man with the sword raised an eyebrow, somewhat disdainfully.
The Marquis of Sanjin examined his clothing and hairstyle, frowning slightly as he asked, "From the east of the sea?"
The young man wore clothing different from that of the Han Chinese of the Central Plains, and wooden clogs. His clothes resembled a long jacket, but were much longer. A white cloth was tied around his forehead, bearing a crooked character. His expression was aloof; though short, his gaze was haughty, his eyelids lowered and his chin slightly raised.
"Someone actually guessed where I came from. This is the first time we Japanese samurai have set foot here; I thought you were all frogs in a well, unrecognizable. The samurai of the Rising Sun Empire are unwilling to leave their homeland because they are fighting for their respective masters. I am different from them. My goal is not to become a glorious samurai by my lord's side, but to explore the world beyond the empire for my lord, and then conquer it."
The young man was first surprised, then spoke these words with great arrogance.
The Marquis of Sanjin seemed not to listen to what he said, but pointed to the white cloth wrapped around the young man's forehead and asked seriously, "You just lost your father?"