Chapter 155 - 114: Perfect Internal Cultivation, Toying with Ge An

Chapter 155: Chapter 114: Perfect Internal Cultivation, Toying with Ge An

This was Cheng Zhuo’s third day observing Su Chen. There was nothing novel about it; the guy’s life was as peaceful—and as boring—as his own. Every day, apart from eating and sleeping, he just read books and practiced martial arts. His occasional outings were merely to enjoy a good meal. Although the house he lived in was secluded, it was clear that the man didn’t lack money.

Cheng Zhuo liked low-profile rich people; assassinating them didn’t invite too much trouble.

His decision to observe for three days stemmed from the caution ingrained in his bones. In his line of work, a lack of meticulous care and foolproof preparation meant relying on luck—and luck didn’t hold out forever. A single failure spelled eternal doom. He used to have partners, but they had all eventually perished due to various mistakes. Now, he was the only one left.

To be honest, Cheng Zhuo quite admired his target. After all, in this restless world, there weren’t many people left who were as aloof from worldly strife as this man. But admiration aside, the man had offended his employer, and so he had to die. Having observed Su Chen for nearly three days, Cheng Zhuo had completely memorized the man’s routes and habits. It was about time to send him on his way.

After all, besides this guy, there was another, more deeply hidden target.

He had already received both targets’ names from his employer: one was Ding Peng, and the other was Tong Bo. Ding Peng was the man right in front of him, but Tong Bo was highly mysterious; even Zhu Yan had only seen him once. Fortunately, Cheng Zhuo knew Tong Bo would appear at the beginning of every month, so there was no rush. He decided to simply finish off this Ding Peng first, then deal with Tong Bo later.

As night fell, Cheng Zhuo glanced at the sky. A waning moon, sparse stars, no wind—it was the perfect night to strike.

In the dead of night, the candlelight in Su Chen’s house finally went out. Cheng Zhuo, having lain dormant for hours, slowly stood and stretched his limbs, his joints letting out a series of soft CRACKS. He changed into a set of night-stalking clothes, loading himself down with hidden weapons, poison powder, silver needles, and various other tools. The sheer volume of gear made him look bulky, yet it didn’t hinder his agility in the slightest. Preparations complete, he took three deep breaths to calm his nerves. His gaze sharpened, transforming him into a ferocious beast freshly released from its cage.

"Hmph, these petty parlor tricks might stump others, but they’ll never keep me out," Cheng Zhuo muttered.

Leaping and darting through the shadows, he arrived outside Su Chen’s courtyard. A sneer of contempt crept onto his lips as he surveyed the crude traps scattered before him. His three days of observation hadn’t been in vain. Though Su Chen rarely left the house, Cheng Zhuo had relied on his professional expertise and vast experience to memorize the placement of every trap, both inside and out, and devise a way to dismantle each one. Honestly, while he considered these mechanisms shoddy, for Su Chen to have accomplished even this much was decent enough. After all, when it came to traps, Cheng Zhuo was the true professional.

Deftly dismantling the exterior traps, Cheng Zhuo slipped silently into the courtyard. His steps were feather-light, completely soundless. The traps within the yard posed little threat to him either, and before long, he arrived at the window of Su Chen’s bedroom. Despite being halfway to success, he remained steadfastly cautious. He held his breath and concealed his presence, refusing to drop his guard for even a second.

He retrieved a fire stick from his robes, poked a small hole in the paper window, and slipped it through. Soon, a faint wisp of smoke drifted out. Cheng Zhuo waited until the stick had burned down entirely and the scent had completely permeated the room before he finally made his move.

The gadget, which closely resembled a common fire stick, was a staple of his missions. The smoke it produced was potent enough to incapacitate even an Internal Martial Artist, let alone a Power Training Martial Artist or an ordinary person. In truth, a single wisp of the smoke was enough to knock a target unconscious, but just to be safe, he always waited for the entire stick to burn out before acting.

Stepping softly into the room, Cheng Zhuo approached Su Chen’s bed. He cast a brief glance at the sleeping figure before driving his palm directly into Su Chen’s chest. A surge of internal force shattered the target’s heart meridians.

The more thorough the preparation, the simpler and easier the kill.

Following the strike, Cheng Zhuo hovered his finger beneath Su Chen’s nose for a full minute, then checked his pulse just to be absolutely certain the man was dead.

With his target deceased, it was time to loot the spoils. He tossed Su Chen’s room, searching every nook and cranny. Yet, after an incense stick’s worth of time, he had only scrounged up a hundred or so taels of silver—a far cry from the wealthy man he had imagined. Despite his disappointment, he pocketed the money, stepped out of the room, and pulled the door shut with a heavy THUD.

Time trickled by. Before long, fifteen minutes had passed.

Standing outside the door, concealing his breath as he peered through the crack, Cheng Zhuo finally withdrew his gaze. A satisfied smile crept over his face; the mission was truly complete. It was simply his nature—even when he was absolutely certain his target was dead, he always conducted a final test. If the victim happened to be playing dead, waiting in ambush, Cheng Zhuo would have been ready to deliver the final blow.

Now, however, it seemed that wouldn’t be necessary.

Glancing around the quiet courtyard, Cheng Zhuo pushed off the ground with his toes, darting away with the speed of a phantom. With a few quick bounds, he vaulted the perimeter wall and vanished into the inky night.

What he failed to notice was that the very second he left the courtyard, a pair of incredibly frigid eyes slowly opened in the darkness. In the blink of an eye, the figure dressed and stepped up to the window, silently watching Cheng Zhuo’s retreating silhouette.

As early as three days ago, Su Chen had already sensed someone spying on him. He simply hadn’t made a move, choosing instead to feign ignorance.