(Not just cosplaying Wu Zhenyu, but also The Godfather, the sixties and seventies, a series of great things I love... ps: There is no Yang among the Eight Generals; I made a mistake yesterday and just went with it. Thanks to friends for the reminder.)

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Yang Gongcheng, one of the Eight Generals.

The Eight Generals. Eight family generals. It seems like a simple phrase, but when these three words come together, they carry a completely different meaning. People know that this refers to the eight experts secretly cultivated by the Second Prince's mansion. These eight experts have always followed the Second Prince and are one of his strongest sources of military power.

In the struggle between Fan Xian and the Second Prince the year before last, it was these Eight Generals who stopped Fan Xian at the teahouse outside Baoyue House. Although they ultimately failed to detain him, they still left a deep impression on Fan Xian.

Indeed, they were eight experts.

Outside the Kyoto Prefecture, after the trial of the case closely related to Baoyue House and Fan Sizhe, Fan Xian made a stern move and shattered Xie Bian's spirit, which in turn triggered problems with his internal *zhenqi*. This was the first instance.

Beside Yushan Road, in the autumn rain, assassins from the Sixth Bureau of the Supervisory Council attacked, using iron spikes to silence people, shocking Fan Wujiu and causing him to leave without the Second Prince's retention. This was the second instance.

Since that small-scale struggle that was never made public, the Second Prince's Eight Generals had been reduced to only six. Today, the Second Prince was a guest at Baoyue House. He was confident that Fan Xian wouldn't dare to do anything to him. To appear as pure as the clear moon, he didn't bring a single one with him, and the remaining six Eight Generals were sent back.

Yang Gongcheng was one of them. On this night, when he looked up and saw only white snow, and the layered clouds had obscured the silver moonlight, he was blocked by a group of men in black, cutting off his escape route.

During the day, it had been sunny, and the snow on the eaves of the alley had melted into water dripping down. The alley was damp and cold. As night fell, the water droplets gradually decreased and slowly condensed into branches of ice thorns. However, there was still a drop of water gathering at the tip of an ice thorn, hanging precariously.

Yang Gongcheng's pupils contracted slightly. He drew the sword from his waist with a backhand, and with a tap of his toes on the ground, his entire body leaped up, slashing at the ice thorns under the eaves with his sword.

With a *chī* sound, the ice thorns snapped in the middle, turning into a flurry of sharp fragments that pierced towards the men in black in front of him.

Following this, Yang Gongcheng stepped on the shoulders of his two attendants, sending them towards the men in black who were attacking from both sides, while his own figure had already risen, about to reach the top of the alley.

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He knew this was an assassination, a premeditated assassination aimed at him. The other party had figured out his daily routes, allowing them to block him in the alley so perfectly.

But he didn't want to die, so he preferred to sacrifice his two attendants, or rather his disciples, letting them serve as sandbags to block the weapons, while giving himself time to escape.

It was escape, not resistance. Yang Gongcheng had long lost his sharpness at this moment. There were only a few people who dared to set up an ambush to kill in Kyoto, and the only one who had a feud with the Second Prince was that person.

The people that person sent to kill him were not people he could resist.

It must be said that Yang Gongcheng was worthy of being one of the Second Prince's personal Eight Generals. His reaction speed and response methods were top-notch. When the men in black below grunted and knocked his disciples to the ground, while simultaneously splitting the ice thorns infused with his *zhenqi*, he had already leaped into the air.

He only needed a moment to step onto the top of the alley and disappear into the night.

Unfortunately, the assassins didn't give him that moment. A crossbow bolt flew over, silently, and pierced directly into his chest.

Yang Gongcheng groaned, flipped his wrist, and slashed downwards, knocking the crossbow bolt down in a flash of lightning.

However, once a crossbow bolt is fired, there is naturally more than one.

*Swoosh swoosh swoosh swoosh*, more than a dozen crossbow bolts were fired simultaneously. He was in mid-air, how could he block them? Although he barely managed to block a few crossbow bolts aimed at vital points with his superb cultivation, he still allowed a few stray crossbow bolts to deeply pierce his thighs.

Yang Gongcheng felt a pain and numbness in his legs, his eyes were about to split, and he fell from mid-air in despair.

He only had time to leap above the alley for a moment. In that moment, he saw seven crossbowmen standing on the eaves of the houses above the alley, in different positions, completely blocking the upper space.

Assassins below, crossbowmen above, it was an inescapable net. How could he avoid it?

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As Yang Gongcheng fell, he wanted to shout for help, but the corner of his eye caught sight of the men in black in the alley also taking out crossbows from their bosoms… A crossbow bolt shot into his mouth, blood splattered, forcing his screams back!

At that moment, he thought in despair, how could the other party use so many heavy crossbows to deal with such a small figure like himself? The overly dense crossbow attack, while he was in mid-air, caused him to be shot by dozens of crossbow bolts all over his body, making him look ridiculously like a hedgehog.

With a *pa* sound, Yang Gongcheng's body fell into the snow water, splashing a pool of blood. However, his cultivation was truly excellent. Despite suffering such serious injuries, he didn't die immediately. He knelt on one knee on the ground, using his sword as a support, and looked at the leader of the men in black approaching him, a hint of the panicked and brutal intention of a dying beast revealed in his pupils.

Yes, he was an expert, but an expert ambushed with dozens of heavy crossbows had no way out, unless he was Ye Liuyun.

Fresh blood flowed down from the dense arrow shafts all over his body, draining his energy, spirit, and essence. Yang Gongcheng's throat rattled, but he refused to collapse.

The leader of the men in black walked in front of him, drew the straight blade from his waist with a backhand. The blade was as bright as snow, unstained by dust.

Most of the ice thorns on the eaves of the alley had been cut off, leaving only a few lonely icicles. The snow water that had been accumulating for a long time finally gathered into a large, round droplet, dripping down into the blood water in the alley, creating a soft sound.

The leader of the men in black drew his blade and silently slashed down, cutting off Yang Gongcheng's head in one clean stroke.

Yang Gongcheng's headless body remained kneeling.

The leader of the men in black waved his hand, the crossbowmen standing on the houses jumped down, and the assassins in the alley silently stepped forward, taking away all the crossbow bolts, and then erased the traces in the alley.

The group of people took off their black clothes, dressed as ordinary people, and left the alley, merging into the seemingly unchanging life of Kyoto.

The alley was quiet, as if no one had ever been there. However, there were three more corpses. The headless corpse, without the support of the crossbow bolts around it, finally fell down, creating a muffled sound in the alley.

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"I never thought before that crossbow bolts could be so terrifying," Fan Xian said, raising his wine glass and drinking slowly, his eyes filled with a look of loss. "As you all know, my Supervisory Council is also accustomed to using crossbows, but I still didn't expect that when a tool for killing becomes so numerous, it can become so terrifying."

At the banquet at Baoyue House, everyone listened quietly to Fan Xian's account. These were the details of the ambush in the valley, and people heard the trace of melancholy and coldness in Fan Xian's words.

Fan Xian placed his wine glass on the table and said with a smile, "A sky full of crossbow rain, I have never seen it in this life, and I imagine I never saw it in my previous life... This is not an assassination; it is more like being on a battlefield. It was then that I realized that individual strength is indeed limited."

The First Prince nodded slowly across from him, a complicated expression on his face, perhaps thinking of the years of fighting with the nomadic tribes during the Western Expedition.

"The sound of crossbow bolts hitting the carriage was like the sound of drums summoning souls," Fan Xian frowned, seemingly recalling the specific details of the time. "That feeling of being blocked and killed was very bad."

The Crown Prince sighed and comforted him, "Fortunately, it's over. It's good that Anzhi was able to survive. Those rebellious traitors will eventually be brought to justice. The imperial court is investigating rigorously, and I expect there will be results soon."

"Thank you, Your Highness," Fan Xian said, raising his glass to toast everyone, and smiling, "Yes, at least I survived. Many people must be disappointed. Even siege crossbows were used, but they still couldn't kill me, Fan. What does that say?"

No one answered him. The faces of the two Deputy Envoys of the樞密院 (Shūmì Yuàn - Privy Council) were very bad. The ambush in the valley undoubtedly involved the military. Although the imperial court's investigation had not yet yielded any results, this point was already an indisputable fact. When Fan Xian said this, the military veterans couldn't help but speculate inwardly.

"I am a very confident person," Fan Xian said, indicating to everyone that he had already finished his drink, and said with a smile, "Including His Majesty and Director Chen, the elders have asked me, why are you so confident?"

Everyone listened attentively, but a ridiculous feeling arose in their hearts. All those seated here were important figures of Qing, including His Highness the Crown Prince and the three princes, but as soon as Fan Xian spoke, everyone's attention would be drawn to him. This was not only because he was the host of the banquet tonight, but also because... it seemed that everyone subconsciously acknowledged that he was the one with the most real power.

This was really absurd. There may have been powerful ministers who held sway over the court in history, and eunuch parties who were called nine-thousand-year-olds, but there had never been such a young and intimidating illegitimate son of the royal family, and a dazzling illegitimate son at that.

Everyone subconsciously looked at the Crown Prince.

But the Crown Prince was listening to Fan Xian speak with a smile, his expression not at all displeased, but rather full of comfort and understanding.

The First Prince coughed lightly.

Fan Xian gently fiddled with the large wine vessel in his left hand, his eyes looking at the foot-long table in front of him, seemingly looking at an extremely beautiful picture: "Why am I so confident? Because I believe that I am the luckiest person in this world. No one else can have better luck than me."

Someone who was clearly dead had inexplicably come back to life and had such a rich, colorful, and even bizarre life. This kind of luck needed to be slowly celebrated in the years to come.

Fan Xian said with a smile, "I said earlier that my Supervisory Council is also accustomed to using crossbows. Those crossbow bolts can't kill me, and my enemies certainly won't have such good luck as me."

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Not far from the Imperial Palace, in the secret room that Director Chen Pingping of the Supervisory Council liked to stay in most, Yan Bingyun was wearing pure white cotton clothes, staring blankly at the documents on the table. After a moment, he sighed, rubbed his temples, and felt that the pain in his temples was unstoppable.

The door was knocked, and an official from Intelligence Division A of the Second Bureau rushed in, handing him three wax-sealed small bamboo tubes.

Yan Bingyun was stunned. He used his fingernail to pry open the wax seal, took out the intelligence inside, glanced at it, and then leaned to the side of the candlelight to burn it. Then, under the strange gaze of the intelligence officer, he said somewhat tiredly, "Don't record tonight's events."

The intelligence officer was stunned, then lowered his head and replied, "Forty-three targets, three have been eliminated."

Yan Bingyun seemed to have a headache upon hearing these words, shaking his head in annoyance, waving his hand to indicate that he understood, and letting him leave.

The secret room returned to silence. Yan Bingyun looked at the remaining wax shavings on the table and began to space out again. Tonight, Fan Xian was hosting a banquet at Baoyue House, but the Supervisory Council was under Level Two status. In the black night of Kyoto, who knows how many people were acting, how many people would die, and all of this was only because of Fan Xian's madness.

Tonight's plan was personally drawn up by Yan Bingyun. Although he had expressed strong opposition in front of Fan Xian, the things that should be done still had to be continued. In this plan, eleven people were to be killed, and thirty-two people were to be captured. Among the eleven targets that had to be cleared first, six were the Second Prince's Eight Generals.

This was a mad act of revenge.

Three of the Second Prince's Eight Generals had already died. With the Supervisory Council's full-force and mad counterattack, the power of a mere prince's mansion could not shake the overall situation at all. Presumably, news of the deaths of the others would be received soon.

Yan Bingyun walked to the window, lifted a corner of the black cloth on the window, just like Chen Pingping had done in the past, looking towards the Imperial Palace not far away through that narrow space. The Imperial Palace was still bright, exuding a sacred and sublime aura amidst the darkness.