The measure of a successful leader lies in whether his subordinates are willing to take a bullet for him.
When many bosses face great adversity, their followers scatter like monkeys when a tree falls. Forget taking a bullet; not being stabbed in the back by them is already considered an act of profound loyalty.
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Zheng Fan felt he had achieved this all in one step.
A Ming had willingly shielded him. Of course, perhaps because A Ming himself was a vampire, he knew he wouldn’t die. Zheng Fan knew this too, so the ’dramatic impact’ of a subordinate taking a bullet for his boss felt somewhat diminished.
However, this also meant they could skip some cliché, melodramatic steps, such as A Ming lying in his arms while he dramatically questioned, "Why are you so foolish? Why are you so foolish?"
Of course, in this instance, what shot out were fine needles, not bullets. It was more akin to the ’Violent Rain Needle’ from Zheng Fan’s understanding.
The needles sprayed out in a circular, indiscriminate barrage. In the mourning hall, aside from a few extremely lucky individuals, most were hit.
Just then, shouts and cries of battle suddenly erupted from outside. The Taoist priests, who had been sitting there silently chanting sutras, abruptly drew weapons and charged into the mourning hall.
This scene seemed extremely absurd to Zheng Fan.
This was Nanwang City, Yan State’s primary stronghold on the southern front. And this was the General Mansion. Yet, right here in the General Mansion, assassins had first hidden in a coffin, and now another group of assassins was charging in.
This was just... too absurd.
In fact, if one tore away the disguise of "reasonableness" from reality, perhaps "absurdity" was its true essence.
These Taoist priests, who moments ago appeared otherworldly and detached, now looked like ferocious demons, hacking at the condoling guests with their weapons.
For a time, blood splattered everywhere near the main entrance of the mourning hall, accompanied by incessant, miserable cries.
The most ridiculous part was that, due to the General Mansion’s own arrangements, the mourning stations around the coffin were set up on four sides. The position at the main entrance was naturally reserved for the true masters and important figures.
For instance, the Prefect and the patriarchs of the prominent local clans around him, as well as General Xiao Dahai’s own widow and his filial sons and grandsons, were mostly gathered there.
Meanwhile, people like Zheng Fan and Zuo Jiqian could only offer their condolences and burn incense at the other three positions.
Therefore, when the assassins charged in from outside, this group of genuine dignitaries became the first wave to be cut down.
Zheng Fan even saw one Taoist priest, his body glowing with a red light, slice off the Prefect’s head with a single stroke of his blade.
It was a cruel twist of fate. Zheng Fan had just been appointed Commander of Green Willow Fortress. Although, strictly speaking, military and administrative lines of command were separate, this Prefect was, in effect, one of Zheng Fan’s superiors.
But before Zheng Fan could even find out his name, he was gone...
From the coffin, a figure in an official’s robe leaped out. This should have been the burial attire for General Xiao Dahai. Much like the Qing Dynasty zombies depicted in later eras, the deceased would certainly be dressed in what their family considered the most dignified clothing.
But the person who jumped out was clearly not a man; beneath the official robe were not boots, but a pair of red embroidered shoes.
Zheng Fan looked up and saw the assassin’s face: almond-shaped eyes, a melon-seed face, and a cold, sharp gaze. After flipping out of the coffin, she wasted no time and rushed directly towards the main entrance to join the group of Taoist priests, who were clearly her accomplices.
"Move out!" the woman ordered directly. Evidently, her objective was accomplished.
A Ming made a move as if to get up, but Zheng Fan pressed down on his shoulder.
When the Violent Rain Needle had sprayed out earlier, many people around them had fallen to the ground. People were packed tightly together, collapsing in a heap.
"The needles might be poisoned. Control the toxin first," Zheng Fan said.
There was no need to step into the limelight now, especially since the assassins were already preparing to withdraw.
A Ming hesitated for a moment, then nodded. He began to control the blood within his body to isolate the blood around the wound that might have been contaminated by venom.
He was a vampire, true, but he couldn’t compare to Liang Cheng in one aspect. Liang Cheng, being a Zombie, was a highly toxic creature himself and feared no poison. A Ming, however, did. At least, the current A Ming was not yet immune to all poisons.
Zheng Fan, on his part, chose to lie low.
He wasn’t familiar with General Xiao Dahai. In this world, there were no photographs, and that portrait was exceptionally abstract...
In short, Zheng Fan had never even seen Xiao Dahai’s face, nor did he know the Prefect’s surname. He truly had no motivation to jump out at this moment to avenge them by stopping the assassins.
This was a very selfish mindset, but Zheng Fan made this choice without hesitation.
After their murderous rampage at the main entrance, the Taoist priests quickly rushed out again under the woman’s command.
Quite a few people in the mourning hall had been killed, but most were still lying on the ground, groaning in extreme pain.
Seeing A Ming signal that he had the poison under control, Zheng Fan then turned his head to look at Zuo Jiqian, who had been standing beside him earlier.
Zuo Jiqian was also on the ground. However, as Zheng Fan’s gaze fell upon him, he noticed that Zuo Jiqian was merely clutching his chest with his hand, his eyes warily scanning the surroundings. New ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄhapters are published on NoveI(F)ire.net