Although Cai Zhao had complained more than once about Qingque Town's lack of prosperity, its vast area and large population far surpassed that of Fallen Blossom Town. The permanent residents alone numbered nearly two thousand, spread across roughly a hundred households. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao followed the two suspicious figures from a distance, carefully concealing themselves along the way. Eventually, the pair disappeared into a quiet alley.
It was an utterly ordinary alley—Qingque Town had no fewer than ten, if not fifty, just like it.
The alley had double-leafed doors on either side, clearly housing six families. The saying goes, "The greatest hiding place is in plain sight," yet who would have thought the suspicious individuals would take refuge here? The question was: behind which door had the two men vanished?
Chang Ning suggested setting the alley on fire to force everyone out—then they’d know which household was suspicious.
Cai Zhao, of course, disagreed. But his idea inspired another plan. She bought forty hard-boiled eggs dyed red in one go, then found a pair of sharp-tongued siblings, around ten years old, from the streets. She handed them a basket and instructed them to knock on every door in the alley.
Upon answering, the siblings were to say they had just moved into the neighboring alley and that their aunt had recently given birth to a son. To celebrate, they were offering Red Eggs to the neighbors—while Chang Ning and Cai Zhao watched from a hidden vantage point.
Chang Ning was skeptical. "How will this help?"
"Senior Brother Fan once mentioned that local custom dictates Red Eggs must be given in even numbers—otherwise, it brings bad luck to the giver. But I told them to give an odd number to each household," Cai Zhao whispered.
Sure enough, among the six households, one immediately kindly reminded the siblings to inform their parents about the local custom. Another even returned one egg on the spot, ensuring they received an even number.
Two other households hesitated at the door, though they didn’t voice their concerns.
Only one household stood out. The door was answered by a middle-aged man dressed like a steward, but his demeanor was cold, his words impatient, and his movements brisk—clearly a trained fighter. After hearing the siblings' explanation, he wordlessly took the eggs, tossed them a Silver Grain, and promptly shut the door.
"That’s the one," Chang Ning realized this time.
The rest was simple.
Chang Ning and Cai Zhao leaped into the courtyard of the house next door, subduing anyone they encountered, then observed the suspicious residence from over the wall. The garden’s once-lush plants now showed signs of neglect, and five or six guards in embroidered robes patrolled the grounds, weapons at their waists.
The best time to infiltrate a residence is at night—quiet as the wind, unseen as the rain. No matter how skilled one’s lightness technique, waltzing into someone’s courtyard in broad daylight is far too brazen.
Fortunately, winter days were short, and dusk was already falling.
The scent of cooking wafted from every household. Just then, another group of guards approached from a distance—likely coming to relieve the current shift. The on-duty guards eagerly hurried toward them before they even arrived.
Seizing the moment, Chang Ning and Cai Zhao flitted like wisps of smoke into a blind spot beneath the courtyard wall. Those nearest had their backs turned, while those facing them were too far away to notice. They used this chance to swiftly advance.
Truthfully, Chang Ning wasn’t afraid of being discovered. But since the girl was determined to remain undetected, he had no choice but to follow her lead.The courtyard had multiple sections, a layout Cai Zhao was very familiar with. Noticing two connecting side rooms flanking the main house in the central section, she quickly pulled Chang Ning inside.
Once inside, Cai Zhao froze.
Such side rooms were typically quarters for maids and servants to attend nearby masters in the main house. Yet this room was exquisitely furnished beyond expectation—even the tablecloth in the central area was made of premium brocade, with a set of priceless pure jade porcelain teacups placed atop. Were these people so wealthy that even their servants lived in luxury, or was there another meaning to this?
Cai Zhao's thoughts were in disarray when Chang Ning detected faint movements outside. Without a word, he pulled her into a hidden compartment behind the washroom, concealed by thick drapes with only a narrow slit to observe outside.
Soon, the door opened, and a richly dressed young man entered, accompanied by strange metallic clanking.
The youth appeared about twenty-four, of average build with delicate features, but his vitality was alarmingly poor—pale skin, bloodshot eyes, radiating exhaustion and irritation. Though clad in the finest fabrics and wearing a priceless mutton-fat jade crown, his miserable expression resembled a bankrupt gambler with no family left to sell.
He slumped at the table, staring blankly until the half-open door admitted two brocade-clad guards. One spoke: "Young Master Qian, present your feet."
Qian shuddered, producing more metallic sounds. "...I just finished eating. Can't I rest first?"
The guard replied, "You may rest after the locks are secured."
Resigned, Qian extended his feet, revealing pitch-black iron shackles around his ankles.
The guards retrieved two thumb-thick iron chains from the wall, snapping them onto the shackles before carefully pocketing the keys.
Exchanging glances, Cai Zhao and Chang Ning shared simultaneous understanding and confusion.
—The luxurious furnishings suggested status, yet the shackles revealed the truth: this was no ordinary resident but a crucial prisoner. The side room location was deliberate misdirection to monitor him discreetly.
A prisoner enjoying such privileges either commanded fear regarding his identity or served a special purpose—Cai Zhao suspected the latter.
But what purpose?
The guards departed, leaving Qian sighing at the table. Before his tenth sigh, the door creaked open again, making him startle like a startled bird.
—Both observers noted Qian's unsteady gait and rigid posture, confirming his lack of martial prowess.
Three newcomers entered.
The first had piercing eyes and restrained energy—clearly an internal energy master. He stood sideways with hands behind his back, his prominent aquiline nose drawing attention.
The second was a handsome youth barely twenty.
The third, a bowing middle-aged man of short stature, struck Cai Zhao as oddly familiar, though she couldn't place him.Chang Ning suddenly placed a hand on her shoulder while making an abacus-calculating gesture with the other.
Cai Zhao silently gasped—she remembered now. Wasn’t this short, middle-aged man one of the stewards reporting accounts in Qi Yunke’s room at noon? So had this steward been bribed, or was he a spy planted by the enemy from the start!
Her mind was in turmoil, and she nearly missed the following conversation.
Young Master Qian glared at the hook-nosed man in agitation: "Are you trying to work me to death? Even a mule needs rest! Don’t you know how much effort it takes from me? The one half a month ago nearly drained all my energy, and now you’re back for more? Again!"
"That was half a month ago," the hook-nosed man sneered. "With all the fine soups and medicine we’ve been feeding you, don’t tell me you haven’t recovered at least some of your strength. Who are you fooling?"
Young Master Qian immediately deflated and slumped into his seat.
The hook-nosed man continued, "Rest assured, Young Master Qian, we wouldn’t dare exhaust you to death. This one will only take five days. We humbly ask you to work your magic once more."
Young Master Qian lifted his eyelids. "Who’s the target this time?"
The handsome young man stepped forward. "Me."
Young Master Qian rolled his eyes. "I wasn’t asking about you people! I meant, which poor soul are we transforming this time?! And don’t give me another portrait—remember how badly the last one turned out? I’ve said it before: I need the actual person, and alive. Alive!"
The back-and-forth between them revealed hints of something so horrifying that Cai Zhao couldn’t bear to dwell on it. She turned to see Chang Ning wearing an equally stunned expression.
The hook-nosed man chuckled. "This time, we owe thanks to Old Chen. If he hadn’t lured the target down the mountain, Young Master Qian would’ve had no way to proceed."
Manager Chen cupped his hands. "My martial skills are meager. It was only with the help of the 'Soul-Bewitching Needle' that I succeeded so easily."
"Of course, of course. Manager Chen is most obliging. We certainly won’t forget your service," said the handsome young man.
At the hook-nosed man’s command, two more men carried in a heavy burlap sack, its shape unmistakably containing a person.
These newcomers were familiar to Chang Ning and Cai Zhao—they were the same two they had been tailing all afternoon.
The men placed the sack on a nearby lounge chair and loosened the opening, slowly revealing the unconscious, delicate face within...
Cai Zhao clapped a hand over her mouth, feeling the grip on her shoulder tighten. She glanced up to see Chang Ning’s jaw tense—the person in the sack was none other than Fan Xingjia.
The hook-nosed man addressed the two men. "Our work here is done. You two will accompany Xiao Gong back up the mountain. Old Chen is, after all, from the outer court and can’t oversee everything. If Xiao Gong’s words or actions show any flaws, you’ll need to cover for him."
The two men saluted in acknowledgment before closing the door behind them.
Young Master Qian walked over to the lounge chair and studied the figure for a moment, puzzled. "This one’s hands and feet are soft, his bones delicate—he doesn’t seem like a martial arts expert. Why go to the trouble of transforming him?"
The hook-nosed man laughed heartily, clearly pleased with himself. "That’s none of your concern. Xiao Gong, take a seat. Young Master Qian will now perform his 'great human transformation' for us. Hahaha!"
The handsome young man smiled and sat properly at the table.
Young Master Qian retrieved a pair of scissors from a cabinet beside the lounge chair and slowly cut open the sack. Then he began to 'examine' Fan Xingjia—starting from the crown of his head, moving to the back of his skull, his ears, then his forehead, nose, cheeks, neck, and downward...Like a butcher stroking livestock before slaughter, deciding where to make the cut, or a bone-setter massaging a client's muscles, carefully and slowly tracing the contours of the flesh.
—The scene was indescribably eerie, and Cai Zhao couldn't suppress a wave of nausea.
While Young Master Qian was "working," the hook-nosed man turned back: "Old Chen, this Fan kid is Qi Yunke's personal disciple. Are we really set on replacing him?"
Manager Chen whispered, "It's non-negotiable. The moment your men arrived on the mountain, this kid grew suspicious. And since he handles administrative affairs, he’s bound to interact with them. At noon today, that Cai Family girl spouted nonsense in front of Qi Yunke. While others were half-convinced, I could tell this Fan kid took it seriously. Luckily, I had the foresight to slip into the guest quarters after lunch—sure enough, I caught him secretly rummaging through your men’s belongings."
The hook-nosed man tensed: "Did he find anything?"
"Not yet. I lured him out on a pretext." Manager Chen continued, "But if we leave him be, it’s only a matter of time before he uncovers something. This kid may seem cheerful all the time, but he’s sharp. That strongman Li Debiao? He’d barely set foot on the mountain before Fan noticed he practiced the Poisonous Scorpion Finger. Hah, that’s not a technique our righteous sects cultivate."
The hook-nosed man sighed. "I already told them to bring only swords and blades—no hidden poison darts, sickles, hooks, or tridents. Yet they still slipped up. Truly, the Azure Tower Sect’s disciples have keen eyes."
By now, Young Master Qian had finished examining Fan Xingjia’s arms and palms, even lingering over his fingertips. He was now moving on to Fan Xingjia’s chest—watching one man grope another sent shivers down Cai Zhao’s spine.
No wonder she could never get into those male romance novels at the bookshop. Clearly, this wasn’t her taste. Still, she was an open-minded connoisseur—just because she didn’t like it didn’t mean others couldn’t enjoy it.
Xiao Gong grew impatient: "It’s getting late, Young Master Qian. Hurry up. This kid isn’t married—he’s still a virgin without even a sweetheart. And he’s not the type to strip down and train obsessively."
Young Master Qian turned his head. "Must you interrupt? The Body Transformation Art isn’t something to rush. Why do martial masters insist on innate talent when taking disciples? Because everyone’s muscle fibers, meridians, bones, and dantian are unique—even their joints vary slightly. Some are suited for sabers, others for swords, and some for meteor hammers..."
The hook-nosed man interjected, "Don’t be upset, Young Master Qian, but Xiao Gong has a point. This is just an emergency measure—no need for perfection. Please proceed quickly." Though his words were polite, the underlying threat was unmistakable.
With no choice, Young Master Qian retrieved a half-foot-square black sandalwood case from the cabinet. Placing it on the table, he opened it to reveal a flash of silver—inside were hundreds of densely packed needles of all shapes and sizes. Some had flat, rounded tips, others wedge-shaped tails; some tapered from thick to thin, and some even resembled slender pyramids...
Young Master Qian selected seventeen or eighteen needles of varying designs, coating each with an oddly scented oil. Then he positioned himself behind Xiao Gong and ordered him to remove his upper garment.Once everything was ready, he focused his mind and suddenly exerted force with both hands, swiftly inserting silver needles into Xiao Gong’s head, the back of his skull, shoulders, spine, and lumbar region without pause. After finishing the back, he quickly leaped to the front and inserted needles into Xiao Gong’s forehead, cheeks, and neck.
Young Master Qian didn’t seem highly skilled in martial arts, yet his finger techniques were unbelievably fast—his ten fingers flickered so rapidly they almost blurred into afterimages.
After inserting the needles, he immediately pressed both hands against the Baihui acupoint on Xiao Gong’s head, holding his breath as he channeled his inner energy.
The technique was bizarre. As Young Master Qian channeled his energy, aside from a faint cold sweat on his forehead, not a trace of his inner force leaked out. Instead, Xiao Gong’s body steamed with heat, wisps of white vapor rising from the needle points, like a poorly sealed steamer.
The vapor obscured Xiao Gong’s face. In the haze, Cai Zhao seemed to see his features and body undergoing changes—some areas of flesh slightly swelling, others sinking in, even his shoulders broadening by a few inches.
Xiao Gong originally had a slender waist, but under Young Master Qian’s energy, it visibly thickened by a full circle.
The room fell into silence. Everyone stared intently at the eerie transformation happening to Xiao Gong, as if witnessing the legendary Painted-Skin Demon from ghost stories manifesting in the flesh, tearing off a bloody human skin to drape over itself and deceive others.
A chill crawled up Cai Zhao’s spine.
After an unknown length of time, Young Master Qian murmured, “Done.”
He seemed utterly exhausted, staggering back a few steps before collapsing onto a reclining chair behind him.
The white vapor around Xiao Gong slowly dissipated, revealing a horrifyingly familiar silhouette—Fan Xingjia!
Excitedly, he touched his own face, then pulled out a small silver mirror from his waist pouch to examine himself. “It’s changed, hahaha, it’s changed! This is fascinating…”
Seeing this strange, exhilarated and eerie expression on Fan Xingjia’s face made Cai Zhao feel as if ten thousand ants were crawling over his pillow—his entire body recoiled in discomfort.
The hook-nosed man walked up to Xiao Gong and examined him for a moment before laughing. “Young Master Qian’s craftsmanship is impeccable. Even a wife sharing his bed might not notice the difference, hahaha! Manager Chen, this is your first time seeing this, right? Come take a closer look.”
Manager Chen bent down to scrutinize Xiao Gong’s face and marveled, “An exact replica—truly an exact replica. This is nothing short of miraculous. I always thought the legends about the Thousand Faces Sect were exaggerated, but it turns out they were real.”
Straightening up, he glanced at the hook-nosed man in puzzlement. “With such divine skill, why were they annihilated by both the righteous and unorthodox sects ninety years ago?”
The hook-nosed man smirked mysteriously. “Precisely because their skill was too divine—no one could rest easy. Think about it. If this sect had flourished, which family or sect in the Martial World could sleep soundly? Wouldn’t you fear waking up to find your bedmate replaced? Or your most trusted disciple swapped out during a meal?”
Manager Chen grasped the implication, his gaze flickering toward Young Master Qian before he loudly declared, “Thank you for your assistance, Young Master Qian. When our great endeavor succeeds, we will surely reward you handsomely.”
Cai Zhao scoffed inwardly— Yeah, right. A handsome reward? You might as well offer a stick as incense and expect ghosts to believe it! The day your ‘great endeavor’ succeeds will likely be the day Young Master Qian meets his end.
But Young Master Qian didn’t seem to realize this. He merely waved weakly. “No need for formalities. As I said, this will last at most five days before the original form reappears.”Xiao Gong laughed, "Don't worry, don't worry. Within a day, 'I' will plunge into the abyss, leaving no trace behind. Then our people won't have to live in fear anymore, hahaha..."
"Is it the abyss beneath the Myriad Waters, Thousand Mountains Cliff?" Manager Chen hesitated. "That place is extremely dangerous. Are you sure nothing will go wrong?"
The hook-nosed man chuckled, "Old Chen has a heart of mercy, showing concern for Xiao Gong. Xiao Gong, shouldn't you thank him?"
Xiao Gong hurriedly expressed his gratitude, then added, "Rest assured, gentlemen. Though I may not excel at much else, I've practiced the Silk-Tethered Gecko Skill since childhood. Not only can I cling to wind-battered, sun-scorched cliffs, but even a mirror's surface wouldn't trouble me. After two hours, I'll climb back up slowly."
Old Chen nodded. "In that case, let's eliminate Fan Xingjia to avoid future troubles."
Cai Zhao's heart sank.
Young Master Qian seemed surprised too. "At least keep him alive for a few more hours to learn his speech and mannerisms. Becoming someone else isn't just about looking like them."
Xiao Gong waved it off carelessly. "This kid goes down the mountain every few days to make purchases. I've been hiding in town for so long, secretly observing him no less than seven or eight times, watching his every move for hours each time. I know his behavior inside out." His implication was clear—Fan Xingjia had outlived his usefulness.
"You've been planning to replace him all along?" Young Master Qian sounded astonished.
Xiao Gong smirked. "Not just him. For every notable figure in the Azure Tower Sect, we have similarly built brothers keeping watch in secret. If circumstances change, we can replace them immediately!"
Young Master Qian let out a displeased hum.
The hook-nosed man laughed. "Of course, we'd still need Young Master Qian's assistance."
Hearing this, Cai Zhao felt her palms grow cold and clammy.
Chang Ning seemed to sense her unease and gave her small hand a gentle tug—his palm was dry and warm.
Cai Zhao held his thumb in her palm, this childish gesture seeking nothing more than trust and reassurance.
Chang Ning quietly studied the girl for a moment before turning away.
He was all too familiar with the warmth surging in his chest. He knew that no matter what demons roamed outside or what evils lurked in the shadows, he would protect this girl.
As the four conversed, Xiao Gong drew a sharp blade from his boot and advanced toward Fan Xingjia with a sinister grin.
Young Master Qian frowned. "This is my residence. If you make a bloody mess, I won't be able to stay here anymore."
The hook-nosed man patted Xiao Gong's shoulder. "Let me handle it." He raised his palm, gathering energy as he approached the reclining chair.
Cai Zhao couldn't stand by and watch Fan Xingjia be harmed. The moment Xiao Gong brandished his blade, she had already focused energy in her palm, determined to save Fan Xingjia's life no matter what. Just as she prepared to leap out, she suddenly felt a heavy pressure on her shoulder, halting her movement.
Chang Ning had already shot forward like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow. His wide sleeves traced a stunning arc through the air before his palm struck the hook-nosed man squarely in the back—with every ounce of strength he currently possessed. The hook-nosed man was sent flying, crashing into the wall with a loud thud, blood spewing from his mouth.
The four had no idea others were hiding in the room. Caught completely off guard, they were momentarily stunned.
Xiao Gong and the severely injured hook-nosed man flew into a rage. The latter charged at Chang Ning with his blade in a frenzy, but his martial skills paled in comparison to the hook-nosed man's. His fate was predictable.
Young Master Qian, still by the reclining chair, was petrified with fear, crouching on the ground and trembling uncontrollably.Only Manager Chen reacted the quickest. He knew well that the hook-nosed man's martial arts were among the best in this mansion, yet he still couldn't withstand a single palm strike from this suddenly appearing figure. Although the opponent had the advantage of surprise, his martial prowess was undeniably formidable. Charging in to fight would only mean certain death—it was far better to quickly call for reinforcements.
So he grabbed the teapot from the table with one hand, kicked open the nearest window with his foot, and hurled the teapot outside with force. Just as he was about to cry for help, he suddenly felt his collar tighten—he was dragged back like a dead dog and thrown to the ground.
Enduring the pain of what felt like shattered bones, he saw a short sect disciple standing beside him. With a mere flick of their palms inward in the air, the two window shutters swiftly closed as if pulled by invisible hands.
Manager Chen didn’t recognize this person, but he had seen this technique before—during the grand ceremony, the young maiden about to be accepted as a disciple had snatched a child from Luo Yuanrong’s grasp from several zhang away using this very move.
Trembling, he pointed at Cai Zhao. “Y-you… you’re Cai… Ah!” His scream was abruptly cut short as a short knife, the very one Xiao Gong had been holding earlier, lodged itself in his throat, still quivering.
Cai Zhao turned to look—the hook-nosed man lay slumped against the wall, his face covered in blood, his neck already snapped. Clearly, Chang Ning had finished him off. Young Master Qian was still clinging to the bedpost, trembling like a leaf. Only Xiao Gong, sprawled on the floor, had a breath left in him.
However, the teapot Manager Chen had thrown outside had shattered loudly against the stone pavement, alerting the nearby guards. Fortunately, because the “exchange ritual” was to take place in this room, the hook-nosed man had ordered the guards to stay far away. Still, their arrival was imminent.
Chang Ning stepped on Xiao Gong’s head and asked coolly, “Aside from this place, do you have any other hideouts? Speak the truth, and I’ll grant you a quick death.”
To everyone’s surprise, Xiao Gong was quite defiant. Gritting through the pain, he laughed. “Your Azure Tower Sect has already been turned into a sieve by us! Your destruction is at hand, yet you still act tough with me? Hahaha…” He recognized Chang Ning’s robes, assuming he was also a sect disciple.
Chang Ning said nothing more. With a swift kick, he flipped Xiao Gong onto his stomach, then stomped down, snapping his spine and leaving him to die slowly in agony.
Cai Zhao’s heart pounded in shock.
By now, voices were approaching outside—the guards were nearly here.
Chang Ning tucked Fan Xingjia under his arm, while Cai Zhao reached out to pull Young Master Qian, intending to take him along.
Young Master Qian hastily pointed to the shackles on his feet. “I-I-I can’t walk! My feet are locked!”
Cai Zhao turned to search the hook-nosed man’s body, but Young Master Qian helpfully reminded her, “The key isn’t on him—their rule is that whoever carries the key can’t stay in the same room as me.”
Left with no choice, Cai Zhao returned and gripped the iron shackles, channeling all her strength into breaking them. Yet the shackles didn’t budge. She then considered finding a blade to hack at them.
Chang Ning saw through her struggle. “Those chains must be mixed with Mystic Iron. Ordinary blades won’t cut through—don’t waste your effort and risk hurting your hands. Just chop off his feet, and we can take him with us.”
Young Master Qian nearly fainted from terror, tears and snot streaming down his face as he begged frantically, “No, no, please don’t!”
Of course, Cai Zhao couldn’t bring herself to do such a thing. At this moment, she deeply regretted not carrying a sharp weapon with her.
The clamor of voices and footsteps was already at the door. Cai Zhao had no choice but to give up.
She grabbed the back of Young Master Qian’s neck with one hand and pulled a fragrant pill from her waist pouch with the other, stuffing it into his mouth. Then, with a firm snap of his jaw, she forced him to swallow it.
Young Master Qian turned pale. “W-what did you just—ahhh! Help! Ah—!”
Before he could finish, Cai Zhao struck his neck with a swift chop, knocking him unconscious.Cai Zhao turned, ready to charge out with Chang Ning.
But Chang Ning handed Fan Xingjia to her instead, whispering, "I'll draw them away. You go out the back." Earlier, while hiding behind the secret panel, they had indeed spotted a small window on the side—likely for ventilation in the privy.
Cai Zhao knew Chang Ning’s skills… and his limits. Escaping alone wouldn’t be difficult for him, so without another word, she took Fan Xingjia and ducked behind the panel. Just before slipping in, she noticed Xiao Gong lying motionless on the floor, his body slightly contorted.
At that moment, the door to the room was violently kicked open. Chang Ning let out a loud laugh and lunged forward, predictably met with a chorus of pained yelps…
Amid the chaos at the front, Cai Zhao carried Fan Xingjia and slipped out through the side window. With a few nimble leaps, she cleared the courtyard. Once out of the alley, she turned into a secluded corner and set Fan Xingjia down, only to notice something glinting faintly at the back of his neck.
She pushed aside his collar for a closer look and slowly extracted an extremely fine golden needle from the base of his neck.
The needle trembled slightly, emitting not just the scent of blood but also a faint, familiar fragrance.
A thought flashed through her mind, and the fog of confusion began to lift. Cai Zhao tucked the needle into her waist pouch.
—She was starting to understand.
Just then, the patrol of sect disciples in the town heard the commotion in the alley and rushed over, blowing their silver whistles. Leading them was Zhuang Shu, the head disciple of Elder Li Wenxun.
Cai Zhao glanced down—Fan Xingjia, now freed from the needle, was groaning as he began to stir.
After a brief hesitation, she carried him to the mouth of the alley and set him down before quickly retreating. Only when she saw Zhuang Shu and the disciples discover Fan Xingjia did she finally slip away.
She sprinted nonstop, nearly crossing from the west end of town to the east before finally stopping to catch her breath, leaning against the signpost of a restaurant. Then she spotted a crowd in crimson robes approaching—and at their center was none other than Song Yuzhi.
Cai Zhao initially thought to avoid them, but then she remembered something urgent she needed to confirm with Song Yuzhi. Her eyes darted to a coarse earthenware teapot placed on a small table by the restaurant’s entrance, meant for thirsty travelers.
In a flash, she snatched it up.
Hiding in a narrow alley behind the restaurant, Cai Zhao dampened a handkerchief with the tea and swiftly wiped her face. She peeled off the fake skin and throat adornment, tossing them into a slop bucket, then loosened her hair and rearranged it. Shedding her outer sect robe revealed the light red dress beneath—she had transformed back into the beloved Junior Sister Cai.
"Senior Brother, Senior Brother, wait…!" Panting heavily, Junior Sister Cai rushed forward.
The guards surrounding Song Yuzhi instinctively reached for their swords, but upon seeing a flushed, breathless young girl—and Song Yuzhi eagerly stepping forward to meet her—they exchanged knowing looks.
Song Yuzhi steadied her by the arm, whispering, "Zhao Zhao, what’s wrong? Is someone chasing you?"
Cai Zhao had no time for explanations. Urgently, she said, "Senior Brother, I need to talk to you. Can we… speak privately?"
Her eyes sparkled like flickering flames, brimming with excitement and urgency.
Just a glance from her made Song Yuzhi’s heart race. He turned and murmured a few words to the guards, who tactfully retreated several paces—though they strained to eavesdrop.Cai Zhao found herself in a deserted street corner and went straight to the point: "Senior Brother, those people from Vast Heaven Gate yesterday weren’t sent by your father, were they? You called them yourself, didn’t you?"
Song Yuzhi raised his handsome brows, a look of admiration flashing in his eyes as he admitted frankly, "That’s right."
"But why would Senior Brother suddenly summon a large group of guards to the mountain? Even if your injuries haven’t fully healed, why take such precautions in your own sect?" Cai Zhao pressed.
Song Yuzhi remained silent, lost in thought.
The girl didn’t seem to expect an answer and continued, "Because you sensed something was wrong—something you couldn’t put into words. Am I right?"
Song Yuzhi abruptly lifted his head, his gaze dark and profound.
Cai Zhao spoke earnestly, word by word: "Senior Brother, my father’s life hangs in the balance right now, and I’m investigating something critical at this very moment. I need you to tell me—what exactly did you notice that seemed off in the past few days?"
Song Yuzhi hesitated internally, but under the girl’s unwavering gaze, he finally opened his mouth and uttered the words he had never spoken to anyone before—"I realized... something was wrong with Master."
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