With her fingers gently brushing against Miss Jiu's round little head, a sudden sharp glint of cold light flickered in her eyes behind the lenses. She narrowed her pupils slightly, realizing this was far from being just an ordinary inn...

  Having just emerged from the warm hot spring, still carrying a faint hint of lingering steam, her cheeks flushed a soft crimson like a fully ripe peach on the branch. Her steps carried a lazy, lighthearted laziness as she sauntered into the inn's main hall. Her gaze swept over the leftover dishes on the table, and her slender fingers casually twirled the remaining remnants in the bowl, bringing them close to her nose for a gentle sniff—the rich aroma of wine mingled with the robust fragrance of freshly cooked dishes, curling and wrapping around her nostrils. She almost found herself reaching for the wine glass to take another sip, held back only by the quiet reminder that "After all, I'm a princess. A young lady should carry herself with grace, not act like an unruly wild girl."

  In contrast, Miss Jiu beside her had no such reservations. Already drawn to the lingering scent drifting from the kitchen, she flapped her snow-white little wings and darted off toward the kitchen. Once there, she caught sight of the heavenly ingredients stacked on the cutting board—crystalline spirit fruits, fresh tender mushrooms, and meat glowing with a faint spiritual radiance. The little guy's eyes immediately sparkled like stars filled with light, pecking away greedily, splashing juice from the spirit fruits everywhere, completely unabashed and unreserved.

  Neither of them noticed that the inn, named "Xianlai," hid a deadly rule hidden beneath the seemingly harmless facade—once the staff on duty withdrew, it would automatically activate backup mechanisms, swallowing any intruder whole to be consumed.

  In the corner of the main hall, those two seemingly tipsy drunk travelers by the table were far from ordinary guests; instead, they were carefully disguised assassins! Each positioned on either side, already having slipped into a semi-surrounding formation, just waiting for Youjie to let her guard down and stumble into their trap, before delivering a fatal sneak attack to end her life in one blow.

  Youjie, entering the inn for the first time, had initially written off these two as drunkards who'd had too much to drink. Combined with the fact that Group Da Mao had just been dealt with, her vigilance plummeted to an all-time low.

  Just as Miss Jiu slipped away to the kitchen to sneak a snack, returning empty-handed, her curiosity piqued about exactly what wild delicacy he was gnawing on. She lifted her feet and walked straight toward the kitchen's exit, passing through the gap between the two assassins—was she walking straight into their nets?

  That left "drunkard" by the table suddenly opened his eyes, the drooping arms on the table suddenly tensing, his fingers instantly transforming into sharp steel claws like a rat trap sprung open with lightning speed, popping straight out to lock onto Youjie's throat. The claws looked rough and clumsy, yet their speed was blisteringly fast, cutting through the air with a sharp screech, determined to strike true.

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  In a critical moment, Youjie's mind couldn't help but wander wildly: "This claw looks just like an old tree root—surely it's a fake hand, right? Hidden beneath his sleeve lies his real hand, maybe even more powerful?"

  How truly naive!

  Fortunately, the body's instinctive reaction was far swifter than the mind's wanderings. She softened her waist, stepping back with lightning speed like a willow leaf fluttering in the wind. That steel claw scraped across the back of her neck, the biting cold air sending a numbing chill down her spine—just an inch away, blood would have spurted forth, meeting its end here.

  "Oops, did I disturb your sleep?" Youjie stood firm, not the least flustered, instead chiding playfully, "Truly a rude fellow, lacking even the basic courtesy to host guests."

  Just as she was reveling in having dodged disaster by the skin of her teeth, a sharp gust of wind suddenly blew from behind her!

  A ghostly blade, wrapped in menacing killing intent, hacked down toward her lower back—turns out that the Iron Claw sneak attack was just a feint, and the real strike was coming from behind! Working together in perfect harmony, they'd calculated exactly that Youjie would dodge the rear attack, aiming to deliver a finishing blow from behind.

  If Youjie tried to dodge again, it would already be too late; she could only close her eyes tightly, a bitter smile tugging at the corner of her mouth: "Did I mess up this time?"

  But just as the blade was about to touch her clothes, a streak of snow-white sword energy suddenly stabbed out from behind her! Without even showing her presence, relying solely on a detached sword energy, it struck the ghostly blade's back edge with pinpoint accuracy.

  Xiaobai didn't show herself—instead, relying solely on a detached sword energy, she unleashed a strike powerful enough to shake heaven and earth.

  "Ziiiii—!"

  The sound of metal clashing on metal echoed deafeningly, causing the eardrums to ache painfully. That knife-wielding assassin, feeling a surge of overwhelming force surging up, his tiger's mouth split open instantly, the ghostly blade softening like a noodle that had lost its support, clanging down with a heavy thud, unable to hold its shape any longer.

  How could the Lei Gong knife bearer endure this? With a furious roar, his forehead veins bulging, he pressed both hands hard against the knife handle, struggling to stabilize the descending blade. The tip of the knife ，darting once more toward Youjie's back, determined to meet its end head-on.

  Such persistence, truly asking for death.

  "A crisp cracking sound—" Not Youjie's bone breaking, but instead, the ghostly blade's body split directly down the middle! The sharpened stubble edges shot out like flying shards, along with the knife wielder's entire arm, shattered by the aftershock of the sword energy, hanging limply like two pieces of dead wood without a single bone left.

  Youjie patted the dust off her hands, feeling in an excellent mood, actually humming a few rough man's songs as she squatted down to rummage through the two assassins' bodies.

  Besides some hidden gold and silk trinkets tucked away on their persons, she also pulled out two identical bamboo tokens—dark brown in color, carved with a bold, ancient character "Xian" in elegant calligraphy, marked with fine lines along the edges. Presumably, these were the identity tokens of the assassins' gang, internal markers used to distinguish their ranks.