Everything had been perfectly prepared, but unfortunately for the assassins, the heavens refused to cooperate. That night, a light drizzle began to fall, and the rain steadily grew heavier.
Trapped inside the house, Xu Zitian let out a sigh of relief. Wu Xingshun patted his chest and asked, "It's raining. We should be able to make it out of this alive, right?"
They couldn't leave Zhang County; they were forced to hole up in this house to protect themselves.
Fortunately, neither Xu Zitian nor Wu Xingshun were men who chased after luxury. Since they both disliked living in the county magistrate's office—feeling it blurred the lines between public duty and private life—they had purchased this small courtyard instead. It consisted of just six rooms, a well, and a modest garden.
It was exactly the right size for the two of them and their attendants.
Upon first retreating into the courtyard, they had managed to send word out, though they had no idea if any rescue would arrive.
