The low-key prince summons trainees from the Imperial Household Department at the start of the game.

Three months, a season, have passed in the blink of an eye.

The backyard of Mohenxuan is very different from what it was three months ago.

The hemp ropes used for drying paper in the courtyard were completely dismantled, and the bluestone slabs were pried up and piled in the corner, revealing the compacted soil underneath.

Several concentric circles and intricate footstep patterns were drawn on the soil. These were drawn by Jing Ke with charcoal, and were redrawn every day after being trampled and blurred.

A dozen or so wooden swords and daggers were stuck in the weapon rack at the base of the wall. The blades were chipped and chipped, but each one was clean.

Ah Jiu squatted by the whetstone in the corner of the courtyard, sharpening his short dagger stroke by stroke.

The dagger was forged by Zhuan Zhu himself; it was two inches shorter than an ordinary dagger, just enough to be hidden in his sleeve.

His technique was already very steady; the dagger was pushed out and pulled back on the whetstone with a uniform rhythm and without the slightest error.

Three months ago, he squatted at the entrance of the gambling den, his hands shaking so much that he couldn't even hold a sesame seed cake.

His hands are now as steady as a rock, but his eyes are dark and his cheekbones are high, making him look forty years old when he is only in his early twenties.

"Ah Jiu, the dagger is over-sharpened." Jing Ke walked out of the house in his cloth shoes, leaned against the door frame, and took a swig of wine.

He glanced at the dagger in Ah Jiu's hand; the blade gleamed with a faint blue light in the sunlight.

Those were marks from poison, a prescription sent from Sun Simiao's side, a poison that kills instantly upon contact with blood.

"The blade is too thin; once it goes in, you can't pull it out. Didn't Zhuan Zhu teach you that a dagger should have a slightly blunt edge so it won't slip when it's wedged into the bone?"

Ah Jiu stopped, turned the dagger over to examine the blade, and nodded silently.

Jing Ke walked over, squatted down, took the dagger, gently rubbed it on the whetstone twice, and then handed it back to him.

He patted Ajiu on the shoulder, said nothing more, and simply stuffed the wine gourd into his hand.

Ah Jiu tilted his head back and took a swig. The strong liquor made him cough, but after he finished, a hint of life appeared in his eyes.

This was taught to them by Jing Ke.

Before committing murder, learn to drink alcohol. Alcohol can improve blood circulation, embolden you, and most importantly, remind you that you are still a human being.

Meanwhile, Zhuan Zhu was squatting at the entrance to the kitchen in the backyard, adding firewood to the stove with his one arm.

A large iron pot sat on the stove, steaming and bubbling, the bitter smell of the medicinal soup mingling with the smoke from the firewood, filling the entire backyard.

The prescription given by Sun Simiao.

The dosage of Shaoyang Peiyuan Decoction was tripled, and several potent herbs were added. One bowl of it could cause the qi and blood to flow in reverse and the meridians to expand.

An ordinary person would need to stay in bed for three days after drinking one bowl, but a trainee assassin would drink one bowl every three days and immediately go to the training grounds after drinking it, using the limits of his physical body to digest the medicinal effects.

His cultivation progress was truly astonishing; in just three months, he had gone from an ordinary person to the fourth rank, a speed unheard of in any martial arts sect.

But the cost is equally staggering.

The person who took the medicine had dark circles under his eyes, prominent cheekbones, and prematurely graying temples.

This drug is overdrawing potential, overdrawing life, exchanging ten years of lifespan for three months of quick results.

None of those who survived the training could ever return to normal life.

The lame man stood by the stove, leaning on his crutch, his only movable leg making him stand steadily.

Three months ago, Zhuan Zhu broke his kneecap, which had already grown crooked. Sun Simiao came personally to set the bone, using a bone-setting ointment specially made by Qianjin Pharmacy.

He can now walk a few steps without his crutches. Although he walks slowly, each step is very steady, and there is almost no sound when his feet land.

This was taught to him by Zhuan Zhu: an assassin must walk without making a sound, even if he has a limp, he must walk as quietly as a cat.

During those three months, he didn't practice fist and foot techniques, but rather daggers.

His legs were crippled, so he couldn't climb walls or run very far, but his hands were extremely steady, and the dagger could stop precisely in any position within three inches.

Zhuan Zhu said that his talent lay not in his legs, but in his hands.

In the innermost room, Nie Zheng was testing Xiao Ya's internal energy cultivation techniques.

Xiao Ya isn't really mute; he just can't read and doesn't like to talk. When he first came to Mohenxuan, he couldn't even write his own name.

But he has one advantage: he is calm.

Jing Ke taught him to read. He didn't learn quickly, but once he memorized a word, he wouldn't forget it.

Nie Zheng taught him swordsmanship. He practiced slowly, but once he mastered each move, he never strayed from it.

At this moment, he sat cross-legged on the futon, closed his eyes, and slowly guided a wisp of qi and blood from his dantian, up the Ren meridian to the Tanzhong point, and then slowly injected it into his palms.

His palms were trembling slightly, and beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, but the circulation of qi and blood never deviated from its intended path.

Nie Zheng stood in front of him with his arms crossed, and only after he had completed a full cycle of circulation did he say something in a low voice.

"That's enough. Let's practice for another half hour, then that's enough for today."

Xiao Ya opened her eyes, her clear eyes showing neither fatigue nor resentment; she simply nodded.

During these three months, Nie Zheng never lost his temper or hit or scolded anyone.

He can only say four words.

"Let's do it one more time."

These three prospective assassins were all rescued in desperation.

Everyone has a fire burning inside them; some burn brightly, some burn dimly, but they all burn.

Nie Zheng didn't want their gratitude; he wanted their lives.

A life completely handed over to His Highness.

In another room, Sun Simiao was sitting at his desk grinding the last ingredient into powder.

He arrived three days ago and met Zhou Xing briefly in a side hall under the guise of a free clinic in the East City. He was then secretly taken to Willow Lane by Lu Changfeng.

He clicked his teeth in distress as he ground the herbs.

These ginseng roots were all top-quality goods that he had carefully selected from the pharmacy. They usually cost one or two taels of silver per root, but now he had ground them all into powder to feed these prospective assassins.

Nie Zheng leaned against the water vat and said that old injuries are the assassin's greatest enemy. Without proper bone setting and pain relief, even the highest level of martial arts is useless.

Sun Simiao retorted without even looking up, saying that if he, a doctor, were to treat an assassin, only he in the world would dare to accept the task.

Then he sighed, picked up his pen, and added two more calming herbs to the end of the prescription.

The pen paused on the paper for a moment, and the hoarse voice became somewhat deep: "I have practiced medicine all my life, saving lives with medicine, and I never thought that one day I would use these hands to help people kill."

"But since the immortal has given me a second chance at life, and it's to serve Your Highness, fine. As long as fewer of my own people die, I'll bear this infamy."

That evening, all six of them gathered.

In addition to the three instructors, Nie Zheng, Jing Ke, and Zhuan Zhu, there were also three other trainees: A Jiu, Que San, and Xiao Ya.

Six people sat around on the newly paved bluestone floor in the backyard, with a pot of wine and several rough earthenware bowls in the middle.

The setting sun slanted in from above the courtyard, casting long shadows of them.

After several rounds of drinks, Nie Zheng put down his wine bowl and slowly stood up.

He was thinner than he had been three months ago, with higher cheekbones and deeper eye sockets, but the Seven Kill Sword hung at his waist, and there was a new scratch on the scabbard.

That was left behind three days ago when he sparred with Jing Ke.

He announced that there was a mission for tomorrow, targeting the manager of a pawnshop in the west of the city.

On the surface, he was a pawnshop owner, but in reality, he was a spy planted by the Canal Gang in the west of the city, specializing in money laundering and information relay for the Canal Gang.

His life or death will determine the next move of the Grand Canal Gang.

The mission was planned by Jing Ke, with Zhuan Zhu in charge of disguise and weapons, A Jiu and Que San as the execution team, and Xiao Ya in charge of keeping watch.

After all the details were arranged, he emphasized two rules:

First, all orders must be given by only one person; no action may be taken without His Highness's permission. This is an ironclad rule.

Secondly, if a strike fails, retreat a great distance; do not engage in petty squabbles, and do not be burdened by empty fame—this is the way to survive.

He drank the wine in the bowl in one gulp and gently placed the bowl on the bluestone slab.

Ah Jiu clenched her fists, Que San straightened his back, and Xiao Ya stood up silently.

Outside the courtyard, the night watchman in Willow Lane was walking by, striking his clapper as the sound faded into the night.

This is the first action of reincarnation, and also their "coming-of-age ceremony".

Whether they come back alive or not tomorrow, they will no longer be the three stray dogs that were rescued three months ago.

They were assassins who carved their names on the Reincarnation Monument.