“This is our master’s prized tea. Please enjoy it slowly, Master. Our master will soon arrive with the young lord and lady to listen to your Buddhist teachings.”
After serving the tea, Qin’er invited the fat monk to take his time, gave a slight curtsy, and withdrew from the study.
The fat monk was cautious. Once the maid had left, he lifted the teacup and discreetly dipped his silver ring into the liquid. Seeing no change in the ring’s colour, he relaxed and took a tentative sip.
*The Ming people are so particular about elegance. Zhu Ping’an will surely ask me how the tea tastes later, so I’d better try it to have an answer.*
*Light and fragrant—truly refined.*
*No wonder this is the birthplace of tea. It’s far superior to anything I’ve tasted back home. This is what tea should be.*
*Such a blessed land—how are the Ming people worthy of it? It should belong to our East.*
*If the heavens won’t grant it to us, then we of the East will take it ourselves. As a son of the East, I’ll start by assassinating the governor of Zhejiang.*
*Once I’ve killed the governor, Zhejiang Province will be leaderless, plunged into chaos.*
*That’s when we of the East will seize our chance amidst the turmoil.*
The fat monk held the teacup, a smirk tugging at his lips. *With this one strike, I’ll carve out a glorious future for the East.*
As he indulged in his thoughts, a flurry of footsteps reached his ears. *As expected of Zhejiang’s governor—such a grand entourage. Even bringing his children to form a bond and hear Buddhist teachings, he’s accompanied by so many attendants.*
*Pat-pat-pat…*
*Wait, what?!*
*Something’s wrong. Why are there so many footsteps? And some seem to be coming from the roof! This isn’t right!*
The fat monk’s expression changed instantly. He leapt up as if his backside were on fire and rushed to the window, peering through the lattice.
In the courtyard, team after team of Ming foot soldiers, armed with matchlock guns and clad in full armour—practically armed to the teeth—aimed their dark barrels at the study.
At the same time, footsteps echoed from the rooftop, clearly indicating Ming soldiers lying in ambush above.
*Damn it! How did this happen? Where did I slip up?!*
The fat monk racked his brains but couldn’t fathom where he’d gone wrong, how he’d been trapped in this setup.
*Could it be a test?*
He dismissed the thought as soon as it arose. *Who would mobilise such a force just to test a wandering monk?*
*Damn it! How was I exposed?!*
His face twisted in frustration, sweat streaming down his brow. In this critical moment, he was decisive. Since he couldn’t figure out his mistake, he wouldn’t waste time trying. His priority was escape. He had to break out before the Ming forces fully encircled him, or he’d be trapped with no hope of survival.
The courtyard in front of the study was already filled with heavily armoured soldiers. Breaking through head-on would be suicide.
No matter how skilled he was, his dagger couldn’t pierce their armour. He’d have to target unprotected areas like the neck or face, which, in a life-or-death fight, was near impossible against fully armoured foes. It might take seven or eight strikes to land a fatal blow, while a single shot from their matchlocks could end him instantly.
The roof was also crawling with Ming soldiers, ruling out that escape route. That left…
His gaze shifted to the study’s rear window. Without hesitation, he hurled himself toward it, leaping like a raging bear. With a crash, he smashed through the window and burst out.
“Assassin’s escaping through the window!”
“The assassin’s fleeing from the rear!”
Instantly, the courtyard and rooftop erupted in a cacophony of shouts and frantic footsteps.
Still airborne, the fat monk flung a handful of poisoned needles with his left hand while his right hand smashed a smoke bomb onto the ground. With a *bang*, two thick clouds of black smoke enveloped several metres.
*Ding-ding-ding.* The needles struck armour, producing muffled or sharp clinks—no screams followed.
He wasn’t disappointed. Against fully armoured soldiers, he hadn’t expected to inflict damage.
His goal was to sow chaos.
The moment the smoke bomb detonated, the tension on his face eased, and his racing heart settled.
“I can’t see through this smoke!”
“What’s going on? What did this assassin throw to create such a fog?”
“Could this be poisonous smoke?”
Panicked voices rang out nearby.
*Heh.* Hearing the Ming soldiers’ alarm, the fat monk’s lips curled into a smirk. With his ninja escape techniques, the smoke bomb meant he was as good as gone. This was the bread and butter of ninja craft.
*Hahaha…*
*I don’t know how I was exposed, but catching me, little Ming dog? You’re still too green!*
Cursing inwardly, he darted through the smoke in one direction…
And then he slammed into something—a vast net, like a fly caught in a spider’s web.
“We’ve got him! We’ve got him! The master ordered us to set up the net in advance, and it worked! The assassin walked right into it!”
Cheers erupted.
“Damn it!”
The fat monk, entangled in the net, cursed and tried to break free. But before he could act, the soldiers holding the net crisscrossed their movements, wrapping him up like a dumpling.
As the fat monk was ensnared, Zhu Ping’an, Master Li, and the two brothers-in-law approached, protected by soldiers.
“Brother-in-law, you’re incredible. He really was an assassin—and a Wokou, no less! That smoke bomb is a trick Wokou ninjas use to escape. He’s definitely a Wokou,” the brothers-in-law said, staring at the netted monk with admiration. They hadn’t expected the monk to actually be an assassin.
*Of course he’s an assassin. I’ve got a cheat code—how could I be wrong?*
Zhu Ping’an smiled without responding.
The Zhejiang soldiers bound the monk with ropes and searched him. They found a wrist sheath containing blackened, likely poisoned needles, a dagger strapped to his ankle, and several vials on his person, probably containing poison.
“Dislocate his jaw,” Master Li prompted.
Zhu Ping’an ordered it done, and sure enough, a poison sac was found hidden in the monk’s teeth.
“How did you spot me?” the fat monk asked calmly, once his jaw was reset, staring at Zhu Ping’an.
It was the question that had tormented him, one he couldn’t unravel no matter how hard he tried.
