“Line up! Anyone who steps one inch across the stone threshold of Courtyard No. 8 gets both legs snapped at the knee!”
At 3:30 PM on Lotus-Prince Street, the vermilion-lacquered double gates of Courtyard No. 8 shook as thirty black-robed martial disciples slammed their iron-shod staffs onto the frozen flagstones in unison.
THUD!
White frost sprayed up from the cracks between the paving stones. Heat steamed off the thirty disciples’ knuckles as they circulated their external martial qi, forming a three-deep wall of iron staffs across the entrance of the historic prince’s mansion.
At the top of the five stone steps stood a burly, hawk-featured man in a sleeveless brocade vest over corded, scar-covered arms. Despite the minus-ten-degree wind howling off Shichahai Lake, his skin glowed dull red like heated pig iron, melting every snowflake within half a meter of his shoulders.
He was the Murong family’s chief martial enforcer, Half-Step Grandmaster Hong (Goodness: -12/100).
Behind Enforcer Hong’s broad back, Murong Xuan (Goodness: 7/100) and Murong Xue (Goodness: 12/100) stood under the carved eaves in fur coats, clutching a porcelain teapot and glaring down the snowy hutong with bloodshot eyes.
Around the perimeter of Lotus-Prince Street, hundreds of local Shichahai residents, antique dealers, and wealthy spectators who had hurried over from the auction hall stood on tiptoe behind the willow trees.
