Volume One: The Youngest Among Three Hundred Chapter Ninety-Nine: Repeating Once More

“Creak!”

In the fading glow of the sunset, a well-dressed man gently pushed open the back door of the Blackclad Guard. He glanced back to ensure no one was following, silently closing the door behind him before sprinting swiftly toward a certain direction in Chang’an City, finally arriving outside a sprawling and grand residence.

This vast estate had once seen visits from the Eagle Claw men, officials in purple robes after court sessions, and now, he too had come.

“Stop! Who goes there?” a guard at the gate drew his blade, ready to block him.

The man took from his chest a metal token engraved with two crossed double-edged blades slaying a flying dragon.

“Please proceed,” the guard said, stepping aside.

Crossing the threshold, he strode through the courtyard with familiarity until he stopped before a certain hall. From inside, the voice of the estate’s master echoed: “It seems the task I assigned was not accomplished!”

He shook his head dejectedly. “Yes, it was not.”

“Come in and speak,” the master replied.

Entering, he saw a cup of steaming tea on the table beside him — clearly prepared for him — but he did not drink it, his face as cold as ice.

“What exactly happened?” The estate master finally could not hold back.

Though he had prepared and chosen his words carefully, shame tinged his voice: “Originally, I had managed to knock out all the Blackclad Guards headed to Ganquan Village, and Liu Jianzhang had also surrounded Chen Chang’an.”

“But…”

A trace of annoyance clouded the estate master’s brow. “Don’t tell me the entire plan failed because of a mere Chen Chang’an.”

He swallowed awkwardly and changed his tone: “Yes… it was indeed because of Chen Chang’an. I was surprised; there’s much about him that defies understanding, most bizarrely, the extreme mismatch between his power and his cultivation level.”

“Bang!”

The estate master slammed down his cup in anger. “I don’t want to hear the details, just the outcome.”

“The outcome… is that the salt mine is now guarded by Blackclad Guards dispatched by Cao Wu. I believe the imperial troops will take over soon.”

“And… Liu Jianzhang was killed by Chen Chang’an’s blade, and the Kanjia armor was destroyed!”

“All done by Chen Chang’an alone?” the estate master’s face darkened as never before.

Reluctantly, the man nodded without another word.

The master, seated rigidly, suddenly burst into laughter, growing more bitter and almost deranged: “Unexpected, truly unexpected. From Sanyuan Temple to the Xiaolian case, we’ve been repeatedly defeated by a nobody, a mere useless son-in-law.”

“This time, I intended to secretly seize the salt mine, covertly mine, operate, and sell to fund our uprising’s military expenses, but it has been ruined.”

Glancing at his companion’s complexion, the estate master questioned: “Chen Chang’an, even if he were not blind, even if he joined the Blackclad Guard to walk the martial path, even if his talent were high, according to what I know, he is only a Grade Two Soul Cultivator, right?”

“With your Grade Six Xianghe realm, it should be easy to suppress him without question, not to mention you have the Kanjia armor. How did he even manage to wound you?”

He sighed deeply: “Indeed, even I find it hard to accept. I don’t know how, but he caused a violent explosion throughout the salt mine. Were it not for the Kanjia armor’s innate ice attribute countering it, I might have died in there.”

“Hmph!”

The estate master, utterly deflated, returned to his seat, pinching his brow with two fingers: “Don’t tell me after such a heavy price, you still couldn’t kill Chen Chang’an!”

His companion’s darkened face finally twisted into a faint satisfaction as he spoke softly: “He is dead.”

The master sighed deeply: “Then so be it. Go back and recuperate—we must prepare a new plan.”

…

Inside the Blackclad Guard’s quarters,

The deceased Chen Chang’an lay flat on the bed. Ruan Jingchu and Ye Lin sat nearby on small bamboo stools, their faces dull, expressions somber.

Ye Lin spoke with unwillingness: “Is there really no way to save him?”

“Perhaps… there might be!” Ruan Jingchu nodded and shook her head, thoughts complicated: “If there is anyone in Chang’an City who can save Chen Chang’an, it’s only the Blackclad Guard’s chief commander, Wang You—an eighth-grade Post-Xuan realm cultivator!”

“But he has a rule: starting from the beginning of summer, he secludes himself on the ninth floor of the Zangbing Tower, seeing no one until autumn arrives. Although Vice Commanders Cao Cheng and others petitioned jointly, it may not accomplish anything.”

“Wang You?”

Ye Lin’s eyes flickered: “Because of the Post-Xuan realm?”

Ruan Jingchu seemed well-informed, denying that: “Not because of his Post-Xuan level, but because of his eighth primal technique—‘Deceptive Marriage.’ It’s probably the best method currently to resolve Chen Chang’an’s predicament.”

“‘Deceptive Marriage’? What is that?”

Ye Lin’s curiosity peaked; he had grown well in Luzhou and learned much, yet compared to Ruan Jingchu, born into a martial family, he still lacked knowledge.

“‘Deceptive Marriage’ is…”

Before she could answer, the door creaked open. Cheng Mulong and Ruan Jingchu entered, both with downcast expressions.

“How did it go? What did Commander Wang say?” Ye Lin hurried over to inquire.

Ruan Jingchu only furrowed her beautifully arched brows deeper, sighed deeply as she looked at the man on the bed—no, the boy.

Sure enough, Cao Wu swallowed hard and said: “Commander Wang has always done this for nine years—secluding himself until autumn. He cannot move to save Chen Chang’an now.”

“And he said… even the primal technique ‘Deceptive Marriage’ may not be effective in this situation.”

Cheng Mulong clenched his teeth, forcing himself to suppress his emotions. It had been years since a newcomer had earned his favor and been considered for full mentorship as a successor. Then came Chen Chang’an, who had decisively sacrificed himself to save everyone during the Ganquan Village incident, proving his worth.

But… joining Cao Wu’s banner was nothing much, after all, it was still the Blackclad Guard. At worst, one could humble themselves, secretly teach at midnight, and build bonds quietly.

Yet, for him to die without even trying—what kind of fate was that?

Cao Wu’s voice was laden with guilt: “If I hadn’t sent him to Ganquan Village, none of this would have happened.”

“No! Vice Commander Cao, it’s not your fault!” Ye Lin’s eyes reddened with sorrow and anger. “If I had been more cautious when I went to Ganquan Village, hadn’t fallen into their trap, he wouldn’t have come looking for me. Then…”

“No!” Ruan Jingchu interrupted: “It’s my fault. I should have sent the information back earlier, and then…”

“Silence!”

“Bang!”

Increasingly furious, Cheng Mulong smashed the red lacquered table with a fist and scolded: “Enough! No one is at fault here! The blame lies with the Blue Armored men who attacked Ruan Jingchu and appeared in the salt mine tunnels! The fault lies with the mysterious forces behind them!”

“When we found Chen Chang’an in the tunnels, there were only scattered armor fragments but no body. This proves he is still alive—understand?”

“If you truly care about his death, you should find out who the Blue Armored men are, uncover the forces behind them, and annihilate them—don’t be here assigning blame to yourselves.”

His thunderous words snapped the three out of their sorrow. They clenched their fists and pounded their chests: “Right! Exactly! Kill the Blue Armored men! Destroy their forces! Avenge Chen Chang’an!”

“Wait and see, Blue Armored men—Uncle Ye won’t let you off!”

Cao Wu regained composure, her icy countenance returning to its usual coldness: “Well said. The Blue Armored men and their backers have repeatedly opposed the imperial court and caused trouble. They must be eliminated!”

She used the court’s grand rhetoric instead of mentioning Chen Chang’an’s name.

Pausing briefly, she called loudly outside: “Send someone to inform the related families of Chen Chang’an’s death. Arrange for the Blackclad Guard to claim his body.”

“Yes!” came the obedient reply.

…

At this moment, inside the Su family mansion, the entire family sat around the table laden with sumptuous dishes, hosting a guest dressed in white silk robes and crowned with jade—a young master groomed with impeccable cleanliness.

None other than Yuan Yunfei, son of the revered Protector General Yuan Bingzhong, who had once claimed credit for the Su family’s pardon.

A close observer would notice a marked change in the Su family’s attitude toward him since last time—now decidedly colder.

Gone was the near-worshipful enthusiasm, replaced by mere social civility appropriate for hosting a guest.

Especially Su Wanqing, the youngest daughter who once fangirled over him like a child over an idol, now muttered while picking at her food: “Last time, they said our family’s pardon was all thanks to him—taking credit even for things he didn’t see. What nonsense!”

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