A divine healer, a general, a young marquis! Who can rival them!

Despite the order to lure Yang Hu away from the mountain, he ultimately did not leave.

He knew perfectly well that as soon as he left, the hand hidden in the central army would take advantage of the night to harm Qin Ying and Su Heng, who remained in the camp. The military intelligence was on Su Heng, and Su Heng's deadly mouth was also in this camp.

Late at night.

In the wounded soldiers' camp, the seriously wounded soldiers had already fallen asleep, leaving only scattered groans and a few dim oil lamps. Yang Hu pretended to rest, but secretly he conspired with Qin Ying, who was disguised as a medicine boy, and Su Heng, a clerk, to take turns keeping watch at night, never leaving the roll of military reports hidden close to their bodies.

All three were aware of the danger of that night. The order to lure Yang Hu away had failed, and the hand lurking in the shadows would not give up so easily. Tonight was likely its turn to strike. Qin Ying gripped the short knife she never parted with in her palm, her eyes shining like an eagle's in the darkness.

Around midnight, the dogs outside the camp suddenly barked twice, then stopped abruptly.

Qin Ying, who was on night watch, suddenly narrowed her cold eyes.

She grew up in the military and was a daughter of a military family who had commanded troops and fought on the battlefield. The sudden cessation of barking in the middle of the night could only mean one thing: someone had sneaked in under cover of darkness and silently killed the guard dog.

"They're here." She lowered her voice, pushed the sleeping Su Heng awake, and then gestured to Yang Hu with her eyes.

Before the words were even finished, the tent flap was lifted, and several dark figures darted in like ghosts. They were agile and their footsteps were so light that they made no sound, clearly well-trained desperados. The short knives in their hands gleamed with a cold, eerie light in the moonlight filtering through the gaps in the tent flap.

The leader, without uttering a word, had a clear objective. He went straight to the corner where Su Heng had been sleeping, raised his knife, and stabbed her hard.

That slash was swift and ruthless, aimed straight for the heart—a deadly move meant to take a life and silence the victim. The assassin had no intention of leaving anyone alive; he only wanted to complete the task discreetly, steal the roll of military reports, and slip away without a sound.

"court death!"

In the nick of time, Qin Ying suddenly sprang into action. Before the blade could fall, she yanked Su Heng away and, with a backhand slash, struck the shadowy figure's wrist. The short knife clattered to the ground, and the shadowy figure groaned, staggering back two steps.

A fierce battle broke out silently in this cramped tent.

The shadowy figures were clearly skilled martial artists, their attacks ruthless, each strike aimed at vital points. But they never expected that this unassuming, dusty "medicine boy" in the tent would possess such prowess.

Qin Ying grew up in the Duke of Zhenguo's mansion, learning martial arts from her grandfather and honing her skills in the army, facing thousands of soldiers and witnessing bloodshed. Her formidable killing prowess was now on full display in this small space. Her movements were lightning-fast, her moves ruthless, each strike aimed at disarming and dismembering her opponent, showing no mercy. In just a few exchanges, she had felled two dark figures. The long-dormant, three-year-hidden sharpness of her military family was revealed once more that night.

Yang Hu was also busy.

He didn't know martial arts, but he had other methods. A doctor understands the workings of the human body best, and knows best what can instantly render someone incapable of fighting. Taking advantage of a dark figure lunging at him, he was already prepared, and with a flick of his wrist, he threw out a handful of powder—the very same eye-draining powder made from ground celery and celery. The powder was splashed into the wind, a cloud of white mist landing directly on the dark figure's face and in his eyes.

"My eyes!" the dark figure screamed, clutching its eyes, unable to open them again. Yang Hu tripped it, and it fell heavily to the ground.

Su Heng also calmed down from her initial panic. She had disguised herself as a clerk for three years in order to investigate the wrongful conviction of her father's entire family. This roll of military reports was the only evidence she had obtained at the cost of her life, and she absolutely could not let it fall into their hands. She tightly protected the roll in her arms, retreated to the corner of the tent, and her eyes showed the determination that had been honed by three years of forbearance.

In a short while, the assassins who had launched the night raid were all subdued by Qin Ying's dagger and Yang Hu's medicinal powder. The leader, whose wrist had been dislocated by Qin Ying, was pinned to the ground, unable to move.

Yang Hu stepped forward and pressed two fingers on the assassin's pressure points.

"Tell me, who sent you?"

The assassin was stubborn, his jaw clenched, refusing to utter a single word.

"Not going to talk?" Yang Hu's finger twitched slightly, and the assassin immediately convulsed in pain, cold sweat pouring down his face. "I know better than anyone which part of the body is most vulnerable. This feeling is worse than being branded with a hot iron. Do you want to tell me yourself, or do you want me to slowly pry it out?"

The assassin initially gritted his teeth and endured the pain, but Yang Hu's fingers massaged several acupoints on his body in turn, the sensations becoming increasingly intense, drilling straight to the bone marrow. Others would inflict torture on the skin and flesh, leaving it a bloody mess, yet the person could still manage to endure it. Yang Hu's method was different; it didn't draw blood or touch the bone. He simply pressed lightly on those most vital acupoints, and the pain felt like hundreds of fine needles drilling into the bone, making the person wish for death but unable to die, yet remaining conscious and unable to lose consciousness even slightly. In less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, cold sweat poured down the assassin's forehead, his face turned deathly pale, and finally, unable to bear it any longer, he forced out a word through clenched teeth.

They were sent privately by a military clerk surnamed Zhou. He had received a message that a three-year-old case in the military law archives had been unearthed. The clerk in charge of the documents, fearing exposure, had paid these thugs to kill Su Heng under cover of night and steal back the roll of military reports.

That clerk, Zhou, was the first henchman that Su Heng had discovered when he was investigating a case in the Military Law Department's archives.

"Zhou the Registrar." Qin Ying's eyes turned cold as she gritted her teeth and said, "He's just a clerk in the Military Law Department, in charge of documents. Where did he get the guts and manpower to raid the military camp at night and kill people to cover it up? He has connections above him."

The hand hidden deep within the central command revealed another layer of its claws during this night raid.

The initial investigation only revealed that Zhou, the registrar, had signed documents and covered up the embezzlement of military equipment. This night raid, aimed at silencing him, has now solidified Zhou's image from a mere clerk into a henchman tasked with murder and protecting criminals. Yet, Zhou was ultimately just an outstretched finger. Even with immense audacity, a mere registrar in charge of documents wouldn't dare to secretly mobilize troops and silence an investigating clerk, unless someone above him was backing him up and covering for him.

The hand that truly holds the knife, that can command everything, and that can send Yang and Hu away with a single order, remains hidden deep within the central command tent, never revealing itself.

Yang Hu tightly bound the assassins and stuffed them into the woodshed behind the wounded soldiers' camp, leaving a trusted wounded soldier to guard them. He then locked up the survivor who had confessed in a separate cell, with other plans for him. This survivor's words had led them to Zhou the Registrar, a crucial clue they could use to trace the source of the crime.

"It will not give up now that it failed in this attempt." Yang Hu looked towards the central command tent, his eyes filled with an unyielding coldness. "The hand hidden beneath this pool of water is truly going to use our lives to protect its capital crime of treason."

The failed night raid was merely the beginning of that hand's counterattack. Having already torn off all pretense, its subsequent attacks will only grow increasingly ruthless.