Chapter Three: Saving a Life

Thirteen years had passed, and Silver Yao had come to accept her identity, living a simple life at Silver Fox’s side. She thought she had grown accustomed to this existence and was willing for it to continue unchanged. Yet fate, as always, did not comply.

It was a night thick with darkness and wind—a night for murder. The earth was shrouded in blackness, and a gust of cold wind swept through, chilling the skin and making one’s bones emit a faint, unsettling creak. Screams of unimaginable agony echoed one after another. A woman in a pale blue dress stood amidst it all, her eyes filled with remorse: “I rushed here with all my might, yet I am still a step too late. All I can hope for now is—” She paused, standing atop a tree, gazing ahead. With several agile flips and leaps, she caught sight of a swift white figure streaking through the night.

Within the Ji family compound, the ground was awash in blood, countless bodies strewn across it. A circle of black-clad men, swords in hand, surrounded the area, intent on wiping out the family to its roots.

“Hmph!” A derisive sound escaped through someone's nostrils. A youth in white knelt on one knee, sword planted in the earth to support his body. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth like a snake, soaking his clothes until they shimmered with a seductive crimson. His face was hidden by the night, but the aura around him was icy cold.

“You little brat, you still dare to act so arrogant? Men, finish him!” The leader of the black-clad men exchanged a glance with his companion and issued the command. Instantly, all the men surged toward the youth at the center.

“Swish—swish!” A row of silver daggers flew silently, gleaming white under the moonlight. In an instant, dozens of black-clad men fell.

Their advance was halted. Looking up, they saw a woman in a pale blue dress, holding a long whip, standing atop the roof. What shocked the leader most was the silver mask she wore. The ordinary thugs might not know its significance, but he knew all too well—this was the legendary Silver Fox, who once crippled his martial arts and had vanished from the world for decades.

The wind swept her long hair, making her allure irresistible; the young novices were left dumbstruck.

“Hurry, attack!” The leader knew that if they didn’t act now, they’d lose their chance forever. His voice was harsh, but inside, he was tense.

The black-clad men, frightened by their leader’s wrath, raised their swords and lunged toward the youth, striving to kill him and complete their task.

Seeing the youth still holding on, Silver Yao’s eyes flashed with gratification, then quickly turned cold.

“With just you? Hah, amusing. You dare make a move in my presence?” The whip, serpent-like, lashed out from her hand, striking the necks of the attacking men with precision. In an instant, they clutched their throats and collapsed, eyes wide with disbelief. Her whip was no ordinary weapon; it was embedded with sharp silver slivers, leaving nothing intact wherever it struck.

With a flick of her wrist, the whip returned to her hand. The remaining black-clad men paled and retreated hurriedly, unwilling to approach the dying youth. None wished to die so soon; their gazes turned fearfully toward their leader.

The leader stared at the woman. When he saw blood on her whip, he breathed a sigh of relief—she couldn’t be Silver Fox, for that renowned figure would never tolerate even a trace of blood sullying their whip.

But in the next moment, his face turned ashen, all color drained away. The whip shimmered once more, flawless silver under the moonlight, so dazzling he had to squint.

He launched himself forward, determined to avenge his prior defeat. Yet before he could reach her, the whip coiled around his feet, and with a slight tug, his tendons were severed.

“Ah!” The man screamed in agony.

A trace of disdain curled the woman’s lips. She glanced at him, flicked her wrist, and sent him flying into the air. With a swift snap of her whip, several silver points flashed across his body.

A man rushed out from the courtyard and caught the leader’s body, his face paling in shock—the man was barely alive, his limbs shattered, even worse than last time. Previously, the master could restore him partially, but now, he was ruined, his life hanging by a thread.

“Please, Silver Fox, spare us! If we had known that Young Master Ji was under Silver Fox’s protection, we would never have dared offend him. Please, show mercy!” The man bowed deeply, pleading with all humility.

After a moment of silence, seeing the woman unmoved, he urged his men to retreat quickly. The woman descended, lifted the kneeling youth from the pool of blood, met his wary gaze with a gentle smile, then seized him and leapt onto the rooftop, disappearing.

Once the black-clad men withdrew from the compound, countless arrows shot from behind the high walls of the Ji family estate. It turned out there was more than one group of assassins involved; the plot to annihilate the Ji family was truly ruthless.

A cold smile appeared on the woman’s lips. She gripped the youth tightly, and with a flick of her whip, intercepted all the incoming arrows, wrapping them together. With a forceful throw, heads atop the wall fell one after another.

The man who had been lurking in the shadows drew a sharp breath, his fear growing ever deeper. He had not expected a woman of such extraordinary skill to appear, and from her abilities, she was likely the long-lost Silver Fox.

This news must be reported to his master immediately! She could not be allowed to remain. But tonight’s mission was already a failure.

“Tell him—no one will harm Ji Xuanyu. If anyone refuses to heed, don’t blame my whip for sparing no one!” With these words, she vanished with the youth, leaving only her warning echoing in the air.

The man behind the scenes scowled. “Withdraw!” he commanded. All the black-clad men melted away.

Soon, the once magnificent, dignified, and ancient Ji family compound was reduced to ruins.

The blood of hundreds stained the earth, bodies lay scattered in pools of crimson. A gust of wind swept over the corpses, carrying a faint scent of blood into the distance.

The Ji family, for generations a prestigious clan, had fallen in a single night.