In the evening of the next day, putting on the latest style of clothes, Princess Fukang went to Tingfeng Lou in a group of palace maids and guards, Tingfeng Lou is the property of the Cao family, not a building, but a manor, and this party is also the second lady of the Cao family, the niece of the queen of the family, and the second daughter of Cao Tong.

The guards were not allowed to enter the manor, and several female guards with strong martial arts followed Jian Rou to protect Princess Fukang into the manor.

The meeting place is on the second floor of the manor's sign Tingfeng Building, at this time, the second floor is all cardamom girls in their teens, all of them are the daughters of the top families of the Great Song Dynasty, and the top girlfriends of the Great Song Dynasty.

When Princess Fukang came in, she was greeted respectfully.

"See Her Royal Highness the Princess..."

"See Her Royal Highness the Princess..."

"Sisters, I am very happy to be able to participate in such a party, and I don't need these false courtesies," Princess Fukang said generously to everyone, after all, she is the daughter of the royal family, and she has been exposed to it since she was a child, and there is no stage fright on such occasions.

Good things are always liked, the little fairy-like Princess Fukang is cute and approachable, plus she has been smart since she was a child, and her knowledge is not bad, so she quickly integrated into this top girlfriend group of the Great Song Dynasty.

The name of this gathering is to exchange painting skills, the literary style is at its peak, painting as one of the standards of the literati is naturally also very popular, many celebrities are proficient in painting, their group of little girls painting skills can not be how high, the exchange is naturally their own collection of famous paintings.

Princess Fukang naturally brought a few famous paintings rewarded by Zhao Zhen, but what everyone wanted to see the most was the miraculous work that the court painter Zhang Yan admired.

"Your Highness, can I wait for that painting to open my eyes..."

"Yes, Your Highness, I've been waiting for a long time..."

"Your Highness..."

After admiring the few paintings brought by Princess Fukang and not seeing the legendary painting, the girls pleaded with Princess Fukang pitifully.

Princess Fukang also wanted to show off, but the painting was framed by her father and placed in the Funing Palace, she didn't give it back to her no matter how coquettish she was, what could she do.

"Sister Jianrou, did you bring any of them?"

Princess Fukang, who was forced to have no choice, whispered to Jian Rou beside her.

"No", Jian Rou shook her head, looking at Fukang speechlessly, who would carry the painting with him.

"Okay, but it's very close to Brother Yang Zheng here, Sister Jianrou, can you go to Brother Yang Zheng and ask him to draw one?"

Princess Fukang rolled her eyes and said to Jian Rou.

"But Your Highness, your safety..."

"Don't worry, this is the Cao family's manor, there are so many guards outside, it's okay"

Princess Fukang's pitiful expression once again defeated Jian Rou, and after telling the others to pay attention to Princess Fukang's safety, she left Tingfeng Tower and rushed to Yang's mansion two blocks away.

At this time, dusk has passed, the entire Kaifeng Mansion is once again shrouded in the night, Yang is practicing boxing in the courtyard after dinner, the most famous martial arts of the Yang family is the Yang family gun, in addition to the Yang family gun, riding and shooting, fists and feet are not bad, most of them are the number of battlefields that are open and closed.

Yang Zheng's talent in martial arts is average, Yang Jiagun is barely an entry, and his boxing skills are average, completely used as a exercise, in this era, if you want to live longer, your body must be good.

Outside, in the dark streets, the moon appeared and disappeared in the clouds, and several black-clad assassins were quietly surrounding the courtyard along the corners, their blades flashing in the darkness of the night.

"Fight quickly, all the people who live here are the Great Song Generals, if you attract their attention, you know what will happen!" The lead assassin whispered to the others.

"Yes!"

The others responded, and a group of people slowly touched the outside of the courtyard, only a wall away from Yang Zheng.

Yang Zheng just finished a punch at this time, he was sweating profusely with his upper body, and was about to wash after his fists subsided, when he suddenly felt a tingling on his scalp, and looked up in horror, and he didn't know when there were many cold and shining arrows on the wall.

I didn't have time to think, so I pulled my legs and ran into the house.

"Woohoo!"

Rows of cold, glittering arrows followed his footsteps and sank into the solid earth of the courtyard, accompanied by the melodious sound of bowstrings.

Almost ran into the house with a roll, closed the door with his backhand, and put the square table in the room in front of the door, hiding behind the square table, the second round of arrow rain penetrated the thin window paper, nailed to the erected square table, and held the military thorn habitually tied to the calf in his hand, Yang Zheng's heart was still pounding.

He never thought that one day he would experience such a thing, even if he came to the Great Song Dynasty more than a thousand years ago, in his mind, it was singing and dancing.

Before he had time to think about it, there was already a slight clutter of footsteps outside the room, which sounded like there were quite a few people.

"..."

Yang Zheng knew that he was definitely not the opponent of these people with only these two strikes, and the crossbow in the opponent's hand was a desert eagle in this era, and he only had a military thorn in his hand.

Since he can't live, he let go, maybe he can go back after he dies, but before he dies, he has to have a few pads.

The moon ran out in real time, and the cold moonlight entered the courtyard, reflecting the shadows of several assassins on the threshold, seeing that the shadows were getting closer and closer, Yang Zheng held his breath, clenched the military thorn in his hand and waited.

He hadn't even killed a chicken, staring at the shadow intently, calculating the distance of the assassin.

"It's now!"

After calculating that the assassin was approaching the door, he leaned out without hesitation, and the military thorn in his hand stabbed through the door panel towards the door, and the sharp three-edged military thorn was like stabbing through a blank piece of paper, easily piercing the door panel and burrowing into the assassin's stomach.

After succeeding, he pulled out the military thorn, and retracted back behind the square table again, hearing the suppressed screams outside, he knew that the assassin must be finished, the wound caused by the triangular military thorn, with the current medical skills, it is impossible to stop the bleeding.

Yang Zheng's hand temporarily shook the assassin outside the door, especially the bleeding wound that made him quite jealous.

However, the assassins were a group of people who licked blood on the knife, and they were afraid that they would be bloodthirsty in the future, and they dared to provoke them for a thousand taels of silver, even the king of heaven.

The leader of the assassins pointed to the door, and a group of people understood, raised their feet and kicked the door, but at this time they did not care about the movement.

"Bang!"

The solid wood door was kicked open by several assassins, smashing into the square table, and Yang Zheng behind the square table fell into the room.

The disparity in strength was too great, Yang Zheng looked at the swarming assassins and his heart was like ashes, and seeing these people raise their crossbows again, Yang Zheng closed his eyes in despair.

"Phew!"

With a soft sound, different from the sound of the crossbow, Yang Zheng opened his eyes and saw that a sharp sword tip came out of the chest of an assassin in the middle, and a drop of red blood dripped from the tip of the sword.