Cold Blade, Warm Wine - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

When the World’s Best Assassin showed up at my door, I had just finished swallowing a dose of my own Muscle-Weakening Powder.

Had I lost my mind and decided to cripple my own martial arts? Of course not. I simply believe that one must test their own concoctions to truly know their quality.

As it turned out, the potency was better than I could have ever hoped.

At this moment, I didn’t know whether to be proud or depressed.

Who would have thought someone could actually break through my Nine-Deaths-One-Life Soul-Confusion Formation?

To have such a formidable enemy was to have found a kindred spirit.

Forget it. At least I wouldn’t be dying an unworthy death.

With a calm expression, I said to the Assassin, “I know your blade is fast-so fast that a man dies before he can even feel the pain. However, leaving a scar on the neck is quite an eyesore. Would you be so kind as to take a pill from the bottle on the top shelf for me? Eating that will allow me to die as peacefully as if I were falling asleep. Most importantly, it won’t ruin my looks.”

The World’s Best Assassin looked at me with equal composure and said, “I never take advantage of a man when he’s down.”

I didn’t miss the flash of disdain in his eyes.

He likely looked down on me because, despite being a grown man, I was still worrying about my appearance in the face of death.

He was truly doing me an injustice.

I was merely wearing a disguise as Zhishen, though it seemed my art of facial reconstruction was quite a success.

Even the World’s Best Assassin couldn’t see anything amiss.

Since the World’s Best Assassin was too proud to kill me, I was naturally happy to stay alive.

And so, I quietly remained in my awkward position: sitting in the chair, arms dangling at my sides, and my head slumped on the table.

I didn’t want to be like this, but the medicine had taken effect too quickly. One gulp and my entire body had gone limp.

With nothing better to do, I began to size up Ye Wuchang, the man ranked number one in martial arts on the World Ranking.

Legend had it that he came and went like a shadow; if he wanted someone dead by the third watch, he would never let them live until the fifth.

But honestly, I was more interested in the gossip regarding his appearance-a face that supposedly only the dying ever got to see.

He stood silently in the dark of night, dressed in black robes, his arms wrapped around a heavy sword.

He was exceptionally handsome but wore an indifferent expression. The icy aura radiating from him cast an unbidden chill over the night air.

I narrowed my eyes. With looks like those, why live a life of bloodshed? With just a beckoning of his finger, plenty of noble ladies would be willing to die for him.

I saw him lean against the doorframe with his eyes closed. The faint shadows under his eyelids betrayed his exhaustion.

I sighed and said, “My medicine won’t wear off for a while. Since you aren’t going to kill me, could you drag me to the bed? I’d rather not wake up with a stiff neck tomorrow.”

He glanced at me, walked over, and grabbed my belt. Hoisting me up like a sack of grain, he tossed me onto the bed and returned to the doorway.

He didn’t even give me a princess carry. How crude.

Still, lying down was more comfortable than sitting up, so I felt a spark of gratitude. “There’s a guest room next door. You look like you’ve had a long journey; if you don’t mind it, go and get some rest.”

The Assassin’s figure flickered and vanished into the night. The wooden door of the room next door creaked softly, and then, all was silent.