The Rouge Pavilion was the largest courtesan house in the City of Chaos and one of the most fortified secret strongholds of the Phantom Shadow Pavilion. Outwardly, it was a three-story building of exquisite craftsmanship, with high-hanging red lanterns, melodious music, and the enchanting scent of powder and rouge drifting onto the streets, luring countless men obsessed with wine and beauty.
But those with true knowledge in the City of Chaos knew that behind this luxurious, inviting facade lay a lethal trap. Every lithe, swaying courtesan was a trained assassin. Every cup of fine wine could harbor poison. And the master of this place, the Blood Demoness, was the most cunning and ruthless of vixens.
Today, the Rouge Pavilion accepted no guests. The main doors were slightly ajar, but an invisible killing intent radiated from within, causing the normally bustling street to become strangely silent. Inside, dozens of female assassins from the Phantom Shadow Pavilion, dressed in their finest attire, clutching short swords and crossbows, had concealed themselves in every corner and behind every curtain, turning the entire building into an inescapable net of heaven and earth.
They were waiting. Waiting for the prey to walk head-first into the net.
When the sun reached its zenith, a figure draped in a black cloak and a bamboo hat, riding a lone horse, slowly approached from the end of the road.
No subordinates. No guards. Only one man, one horse. His demeanor was leisurely and composed, as though he weren't entering a tiger's den, but merely taking a stroll through the market.
The Blood Demoness, sitting atop the highest pavilion, narrowed her eyes behind a thin pearl curtain. She did not understand. Did this confidence stem from stupidity, or from a staggering strength she had yet to see through?
Faceless dismounted, not even bothering to tie the reins, letting the horse stand as it pleased. He did not enter through the main door. He walked up to the two beautiful female guards whose gazes were as cold as ice, and gave a faint nod.
"The Lord of the Vô Sect, here to attend the banquet as invited by the Pavilion Master."
The voice was raspy, ageless, and devoid of any emotion.
"Does the Lord come alone?" one female guard asked, her voice carrying a probing tone.
"To deal with a group of women," Faceless replied, his tone somewhat dismissive, "I alone am enough."
A single sentence ignited the flames of fury in the eyes of all the hidden Phantom Shadow assassins.
Faceless was led to the highest pavilion. The room was decorated with extreme refinement, permeated with a subtle, gentle fragrance. The Blood Demoness sat in the head seat, dressed in snow-white palace robes, looking refined and transcendent. She was not wearing a mask, revealing a face of peerless beauty, yet her eyes were as cold as ice.
"The Lord of the Vô Sect truly possesses courage," the Blood Demoness smiled, personally pouring a cup of tea and pushing it toward the opposite side. "Daring to ride a lone horse into my Rouge Pavilion. Please, take a seat."
Faceless was not polite, sitting straight down. The bamboo hat still concealed his face, revealing only a resolute chin.
"Since the Blood Demoness invited me, how could I not come?" he replied. "I just wonder, is today's banquet a tea party, or a Hongmon Banquet?"
"The Lord truly knows how to joke," the Blood Demoness laughed enchantingly. "I merely admire the Lord's prestige for being able to pacify the eastern district in a single night, and thus invited you to establish a friendship."
"Friendship?" Faceless sneered. "In this City of Chaos, does the word 'friendship' even exist? Or perhaps the Pavilion Master wishes to probe the background of my Vô Sect, wanting to see if I am worthy to sit on equal footing with the Phantom Shadow Pavilion?"
He did not beat around the bush. He went straight to the heart of the matter. On this psychological chessboard, he would not allow the opponent to hold the initiative.
The smile on the Blood Demoness's face stiffened slightly. This man spoke with extreme directness, completely shattering all her plans for probing.
"Since that's the case," she ceased her pretense, her gaze turning sharp. "I also wish to see exactly what capabilities the Lord of the Vô Sect possesses."
She clapped her hands thrice.
Instantly, from the four corners of the room, eight black shadows lunged out like hunting leopards, completely soundless. The eight most elite female assassins of the Phantom Shadow Pavilion, all at the peak Qi Condensation stage, coordinated to form an incredibly treacherous sword formation, encircling Tran Kien.
This was the first trial.
Yet Tran Kien remained seated, motionless. He didn't even draw his saber.
He merely did one thing. He raised his hand and lightly tapped the table in a bizarre rhythm.
"Clack... clack clack... clack."
The sword formation of the eight assassins, when less than a foot from Tran Kien, abruptly froze. The complexions of all eight women underwent a massive change. They looked at each other in horror, then back at the Faceless Lord who sat there composedly; their eyes overflowed with disbelief and terror.
That tapping rhythm was not any form of martial art.
It was the most secret internal communication code, known only to the most core members of the Phantom Shadow Pavilion!
The Blood Demoness, previously confident, felt her entire body shudder violently as she shot to her feet. "You... how do you know this code?!"
Faceless did not answer. He simply stopped tapping and retrieved an object from his sleeve, tossing it onto the table.
It was a jade hairpin, crafted with extreme exquisiteness.
Upon seeing the hairpin, the Blood Demoness's entire body trembled as though struck by lightning. Her previously cold eyes were now filled with an undisguisable panic.
"This... this is my junior sister's keepsake! Why is it in your hands?! What have you done to her?!"
"What have I done?" Faceless sneered. He did not answer. He merely dipped a finger into the tea and wrote two characters on the table.
"MOLE." (Nội gián)
Those two characters were like two sledgehammers smashing into the Blood Demoness's heart.
She understood. The enemy didn't just know their codes. The enemy even knew the most classified secret—that within her Phantom Shadow Pavilion, there was a mole from another faction! If this information were leaked, it would cause a horrifying state of chaos and suspicion, enough to make the pavilion collapse from within!
On this chessboard, before she could even make a move, she had been checkmated in a manner she could never have foreseen.
"You... what exactly do you want?" the Blood Demoness spoke in a hoarse voice, her arrogance completely vanished.
Only now did Faceless raise his head. The bamboo hat tilted slightly, revealing eyes that were profound and freezing.
"I want nothing," he said. "I only want the Pavilion Master to understand one thing."
"In this City of Chaos, you of the Phantom Shadow Pavilion aren't the only ones who know how to cast a net."
He stood up, not even glancing at the eight stunned assassins. "This introductory gift—I wonder if the Pavilion Master is satisfied? If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave. Ah, right..."
He paused at the door. "Tell the one standing behind your junior sister: next time, if they want to play tricks, show your face in person. Don't let such a good chess piece die in vain."
With that, he turned and departed without hesitation, leaving behind a cold-sweating Blood Demoness and a chessboard that had been completely overturned.