The lead assassin never had the chance to draw his poisoned blade across the servant girl's skin.
Ye Chen's left hand shot forward like an iron clamp, his calloused fingers sinking directly into the man's exposed throat with devastating force.
Rip!
With a brutal twist of his wrist, Ye Chen tore the assassin's windpipe clean from his neck, dark blood spraying across the burning floorboards before the man could utter a final sound. The mercenary's eyes bulged in shock as his grip went limp, his curved dagger slipping uselessly from his fingers and clattering onto the cobblestones.
Ye Chen caught the falling girl with his right arm, spinning his torso smoothly to set her down behind the protective granite rim of the water trough where Fatty Han crouched.
"Keep her head down, Han," Ye Che
