Chapter 58: The Assassination Attempt

At this moment, Ma Jun’s mood could best be described by a single song: Uneasy. He really had no idea how to face such a young wife. His only option was to pretend to be asleep. After a while, everything around him grew silent; not a sound could be heard.

Ma Jun cracked open his eyes just a sliver, squinting to take stock of the situation. The moment he did, he saw Mu Jianping staring at him with wide, curious eyes, scrutinizing him from head to toe, her gaze full of bewildered confusion. When Ma Jun looked back at her, her cheeks flushed crimson and she hurriedly turned her head away.

“Ahem.” Ma Jun coughed awkwardly. “Um, Little Princess, you can’t sleep, can you? How about I tell you a story?”

“Huh?” Mu Jianping was momentarily stunned, then replied in a soft voice, “Oh, all right.”

“This is a sad tale. It's called ‘Seven Men and a Woman!’ Oh wait, I mean, ‘Snow White’!” Ma Jun sat up, leaned against the headboard, and began his story.

By the end, Mu Jianping listened with rapt attention, utterly enthralled. But when Ma Jun mentioned going to sleep, she became bashful and started to undress him, causing Ma Jun even more embarrassment. He hastily suggested telling another story instead.

After several stories in a row, Mu Jianping finally grew drowsy, her eyes closed, mouth half-open, drifting off into a deep sleep. Ma Jun let out a long sigh of relief, pulled the covers over himself, and fell asleep at last.

The next morning, Ma Jun woke up with dark circles under his eyes and wandered around aimlessly. Every brother he passed greeted him with knowing smiles.

At last, after a month had passed, Kangxi and his entourage arrived!

Night had fallen. Behind Qingliang Temple on Mount Wutai, a hidden cave lay concealed in the darkness. Inside, Ma Jun and his fifteen-man suicide squad were all clad in black, faces masked, broadswords in hand, each sitting cross-legged in silence.

At this moment, Mount Wutai was teeming with Qing troops, while members of the Tiandihui and the Mu Prince’s household lay hidden throughout the area.

Inside Qingliang Temple, the abbot politely kept Kangxi company. The old monk, though a master of martial arts, bowed and scraped before the emperor with utmost deference.

Suddenly, an officer rushed inside. “Your Majesty, a large group of lamas have arrived from the foot of the mountain—about three thousand in all. They’re shouting as they march, apparently searching for someone in Qingliang Temple!”

Kangxi’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. After a brief pause to consider, he summoned the captain of the guards. “Zhang Kangnian, take your men and arrest these lamas at once. Interrogate them thoroughly!”

“At once!” Zhang Kangnian accepted the order and left.

After some more polite exchanges, the abbot led Kangxi to a house in the rear courtyard and pressed his palms together. “The Master Xingchi is cultivating within. I shall wait for Your Majesty in the main hall.”

Kangxi waved him away. Once the abbot had left, he approached the door slowly, a mixture of joy and sorrow on his face. “Father!” His voice was choked with emotion. Though he now ruled the world, he was still young and lacked the cold detachment that would come in later years.

After a long moment, Shunzhi could not bear it any longer and opened the door to invite Kangxi inside. The father and son conversed quietly for some time.

Suddenly, a pillar of fire shot up behind the mountain, followed by the clamor of battle and countless voices. It was the rebel armies of the Tiandihui and the Mu Prince’s household launching their attack.

Kangxi hurried out of the room and called for his guards. “What’s happening?”

“Your Majesty, a great number of rebels have surrounded us—more than the lamas before!”

“Very well,” Kangxi replied, completely unflustered. “Send men to protect those inside the house. Order all the surrounding garrison troops from the city below to come immediately!”

Kangxi went inside to report to Shunzhi. The old emperor refused to leave, so Kangxi could only assign more guards and stay in the room himself to help protect him.

“Attack!” A thunderous shout rang out from the back of the mountain. Dozens of men in black leapt into Qingliang Temple. As they landed, they slew the surrounding guards and charged forward!

“Protect the emperor!”

“Quick, bring in more men!”

There were still several hundred imperial soldiers inside the temple. If they all attacked together, it would be trouble for Ma Jun and his men. With no time to lose, everyone fought with all their might.

Ma Jun led the charge, moving with incredible speed, his broadsword flashing without wasted movement—each swing claimed a life. The blood-soaked path beneath his feet was like a crimson carpet, and Ma Jun was the brightest star upon it.

“Drive out the Tartars, restore our nation!” he shouted as they advanced. Rallying cries like this could stir the spirit, and no one had a louder voice than Liu Dahong, making him the perfect one to shout the slogans.

“Guards, protect the emperor!” The imperial soldiers were terrified, faced with these gods of slaughter. Some wanted to flee, but with the emperor at their backs, to run would doom their entire families. They could only resist desperately and keep calling for reinforcements.

Soon, waves of archers appeared around the temple, and at a command, a hail of arrows rained down!

“Finish this quickly!” Ma Jun shouted, ducking an arrow and darting to a corner of the wall. The arrows came in relentless waves, leaving no room to breathe.

At that moment, a white-robed monk descended from the sky, his sleeve sweeping away a swath of arrows like an immortal, heading straight for the building where Kangxi was.

“Who is that? Such terrifying martial skill!” Liu Dahong whispered in astonishment.

“He seems to be after Kangxi as well. If he’s an enemy of our enemy, let’s follow him!” Yao Bida called out.

Ma Jun nodded and led the charge after him.

In the blink of an eye, the white-robed monk reached the house. Suddenly, a monk wielding an iron staff rushed out, and the two began to duel.

With the doorway momentarily blocked, Ma Jun caught a glimpse of Kangxi and Shunzhi inside. He hesitated for just a moment, then shouted, “Today, I, the Soul-Snatching Dart, will avenge the countless Han people of this land!”

As he spoke, two shots rang out. Both emperors inside the room fell with bloody holes in their foreheads, eyes wide open in fury, collapsing to the ground.

For an instant, silence reigned.

The next moment, the white-robed monk defeated the iron staff-wielding monk and vanished like a wisp of smoke.

“Seize the rebels! Show no mercy!” The guards, eyes bloodshot, prepared for a desperate fight.

Within the Qingmu Hall and the Mu Prince’s household, everyone seemed half-crazed. None of them had imagined they would actually accomplish such a momentous deed.

“Withdraw!” Ma Jun shouted. His expression showed no joy as he pulled a bamboo tube from his robes, lit the signal, and a flare shot into the sky.

Using the terrain of Qingliang Temple to their advantage, the rebels avoided entanglements with the soldiers, fleeing swiftly into the night and vanishing into the darkness.

In less than a month, news of the two emperors’ deaths spread throughout the land. With this news came accounts of the atrocities committed by the Qing army after they entered the Central Plains—slaughter and massacres that had long been suppressed.

Though little time had passed, the literary inquisitions were in full swing, and many of those massacres had been covered up, leaving the common people in the dark. Now, with this widespread revelation, a wave of righteous fury rose in everyone’s heart.

Among the Han, one name now echoed everywhere with thunderous acclaim: Ma Jun, the Soul-Snatching Dart!