Raising Orphans, Not Assassins-Chapter 53Vol. 1 - - Refusal! Second Chance!

Jiangxia County, Xiaofeng Village.

Qin Yi and the five others walked along a muddy country road, flanked by fields of crops on either side.

A few village dogs stood on the dirt path, barking as they spotted outsiders entering the village.

Huang San, with a grass stem in his mouth, maintained his usual lazy demeanor, though a sharp glint flickered in his eyes. He said indifferently, "Li Yi doesn’t know why the Master summoned him back."

"Perhaps none of the others know either," Zhou Ba, gently fanning himself with a paper fan, added.

"Why bother speculating? Qin Yi will see the Master soon enough, and everything will be clear," Chen Er remarked loudly, his tone carefree.

His face was flushed; he’d just had a few drinks with Li Yi.

Unfortunately, Li Yi wanted to linger in the city for a while and hadn’t joined them on their journey.

Qin Yi remained silent, observing the rural scenery. Past memories intertwined with the nightmares of the past few days, and a vague sense of unease began to creep into her heart—a mix of fear and foreboding.

Suppressing her emotions, her calm, autumn-water eyes regained their serenity.

From the moment she became an assassin, her life was no longer her own.

"This village is the true headquarters of Fengyu Tower," Qin Yi explained to her disciple. "Probably no one in the world would suspect that Fengyu Tower hides in a place like this."

Xiao Lian nodded, glancing around.

The village was small, with fewer than a hundred households.

It was incredibly ordinary, no different from any other village Xiao Lian had seen before.

If Qin Yi hadn’t said anything, Xiao Lian would’ve thought they were merely passing through.

The six entered the village, and Qin Yi stopped, turning to Huang San.

"Qin Yi, as the master’s personal disciple, the master will definitely see you," Huang San said, his usual laziness replaced by a rare seriousness.

He gave a stern reminder: "Ask the master about his stance on the Shenji Sect, Wan Jin Hall, and Tang Sect."

Qin Yi glanced at Huang San indifferently but said nothing.

Huang San pulled out a golden token engraved with storm patterns and tossed it to Qin Yi.

The Storm Token.

One of Fengyu Tower’s prized items, the Storm Token could only be exchanged by gold-ranked assassins, requiring a significant amount of merit points.

Possessing the Storm Token granted one audience with the master.

According to Fengyu Tower’s rules, assassins couldn’t return to Jiangxia without the master’s summons—even personal disciples were no exception.

Qin Yi accepted the token and walked toward the village shrine.

She pushed open the shrine’s doors, revealing a row of ancestral tablets placed on an altar.

Offerings and an incense burner adorned the altar, with several sticks of incense burning, their smoke curling into the air.

Beside the altar sat an elderly man in plain gray robes, his hair white as snow. His eyes were half-closed, as if he’d dozed off.

Qin Yi walked to his side and gently nudged his shoulder.

The old man awoke with a start, and upon seeing Qin Yi, he smiled warmly, nodding in greeting.

He only had half a tongue and couldn’t speak.

Qin Yi treated the elder with great respect, her tone losing its usual indifference.

"Uncle Ya, I wish to see the master," she said, taking out the Storm Token and holding it before him.

The old man’s eyes flashed with surprise upon seeing the token.

He accepted it and nodded.

"Thank you, Uncle Ya," Qin Yi said respectfully.

The elder waved his hand casually, his smile never fading.

Placing the Storm Token into his robe, he stood up from his chair.

Though his age seemed advanced, his steps were steady and quick, not at all like an old man’s faltering gait.

Uncle Ya pushed open the shrine’s rear door and walked out, disappearing from sight.

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Qin Yi sat quietly inside, waiting.

---

The village’s back mountain.

Uncle Ya arrived in front of a bamboo building.

Climbing the creaky stairs with practiced ease, he ascended to the second floor.

There, the master of Fengyu Tower, dressed in black embroidered robes with gold patterns along the hem, sat before a small tea table, sipping tea as usual.

Standing nearby was a eunuch in a purple robe, gazing into the distant mountains.

The master’s brow furrowed slightly as Uncle Ya appeared.

Approaching the master, Uncle Ya produced the golden Storm Token from his robe and gestured with his hands.

The eunuch, who had been watching the mountain view, turned his attention to Uncle Ya, narrowing his eyes as he scrutinized the man.

For some reason, the eunuch felt a vague familiarity, as though he’d seen the old man somewhere before.

But it had been too many years; he couldn’t recall.

Few have left a lasting impression on him.

Lord Wang stared at the old man’s face, trying to summon a memory buried in the depths of time.

“I understand. Tell her, no.”

Although Uncle Ya hadn’t spoken, the master of Fengyu Tower understood his intention.

Hearing the reply, Uncle Ya grinned, nodded, and tucked the golden token back into his robe.

He descended the stairs briskly, his gait light and cheerful, nothing like an old man.

Throughout, Uncle Ya didn’t spare Lord Wang a single glance.

“Who was that? Why does he seem so familiar to me?” Lord Wang asked in his sharp, high-pitched voice.

The master of Fengyu Tower smiled. “He’s my personal servant. As for the familiarity, perhaps Lord Wang is mistaken. The ones you’re familiar with were all wiped out by my imperial brother eighteen years ago.”

Lord Wang gave the master a sidelong glance but said nothing.

Turning back to the verdant mountains, he said sharply, “Tonight, it’s time, isn’t it?”

The master of Fengyu Tower nodded, lifting his teacup and taking a small sip. “The assassins from Guandong have all arrived.”

“It’s time.”

A satisfied expression flickered across Lord Wang’s pale, beardless face.

“Tonight, the Wan Jin Hall and Tang Sect will make their move.”

“By dawn, Fengyu Tower will cease to exist.”

He stared at the distant mountains as though a great burden had been lifted from his heart.

The master of Fengyu Tower said nothing, sipping his tea one mouthful at a time.

His gaze deepened, becoming an abyss of unfathomable darkness.

---

The Village Shrine

Uncle Ya returned through the rear door, his steps as lively as before.

Seeing him, Qin Yi quickly stood and asked, “Uncle Ya, may I see the master now?”

Her voice carried a trace of emotion and anticipation.

Uncle Ya shook his head with a smile, pulling the golden token from his robe and handing it back to her.

Beneath her black veil, Qin Yi’s delicate face froze for a moment. She asked softly, “The master won’t see me?”

Uncle Ya nodded, still smiling.

Confusion flickered in Qin Yi’s eyes.

She couldn’t understand why the master refused to see her.

Uncle Ya, still smiling, suddenly took her hand and gently patted it twice, signaling her to extend her palm.

Though puzzled, Qin Yi complied, holding her hand out.

Uncle Ya traced a character onto her fair palm.

After finishing, he smiled at her once more before returning to his chair.

There, he sat with his eyes half-closed, his face serene, as though keeping vigil for the ancestral tablets on the altar.

Qin Yi stared at her hand, lost in thought.

Because Uncle Ya had written a single character: “Leave.”

---

Outside Jiangxia County

A horse-drawn carriage trundled slowly along the main road.

“Young master, Jiangxia County is just ahead,” the driver called toward the carriage.

“Good. Once we’re in town, take me to Xiaofeng Village, and I’ll give you an extra two hundred copper coins,” replied a youthful voice from inside.

The driver, hearing this, didn’t say more, though he couldn’t help but wonder why this young blind boy insisted on going to Jiangxia County.

Inside the carriage, Tian Jizi, with his eyes covered by a black cloth, pulled three copper coins from his robe.

He clasped them in his palm and gave them a light shake.

The coins tumbled and fell. He traced the patterns on the coins with his fingertips, a complex and wistful expression crossing his face.

“Who would’ve thought the opportunity lies there…”

“Has it really come to this?” he murmured softly, turning his sightless gaze toward a distant place.

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