Blood River

Near the Spider Nest.

Countless paper butterflies danced in the air.

Su Changhe leaped into the sky, his hands moving swiftly as five daggers spun at his fingertips, weaving one beautiful sword flourish after another, cutting down the paper butterflies one by one. He shouted loudly, "The esteemed head of the Mu Family—is this all you’ve got? Just playing with these effeminate tricks?"

Mu Zi Zhe extended a single finger before him and murmured softly, "Butterfly Dance, Nine Looms."

All the paper butterflies halted their movements, surrounding Su Changhe on all sides. Su Changhe narrowed his eyes and saw that nearly transparent threads were wrapped around each butterfly, but the threads were dusted with a shimmering powder that emitted an eerie blue glow.

"Damn it," Su Changhe cursed under his breath, but it was already too late. A ghostly blue flame raced along the threads, quickly reaching the butterflies. Then, with a loud boom , the butterflies ignited, exploding into dazzling blossoms in the sky.

Mu Zi Zhe tilted his head back and sneered, "The Dark River Undertaker—so this is all you amount to."

As the flames dissipated, Su Changhe, his robes half-torn, plummeted from the sky, crashing through the roof of a house and landing in a pile of hay, looking rather disheveled. He gave a helpless smirk. "I always say I hate fighting the Mu Family. They’re not assassins—they’re just damn illusionists."

Mu Zi Zhe leaped lightly, landing atop the half-collapsed roof, looking down at Su Changhe below. With a casual flick of his wrist, a single paper butterfly drifted lazily downward. "In close combat, even the most skilled can make mistakes. That’s why I never let anyone get within three zhang of me."

"Too much talk." Su Changhe, who had seemed utterly spent just moments ago, suddenly hurled a dagger skyward. It pierced straight through the paper butterfly and shot toward Mu Zi Zhe’s face. Mu Zi Zhe flicked his sleeve, wrapping it around the dagger—but his expression instantly changed. He tried to release it, but it was too late.

Su Changhe’s dagger was also tied to a thread.

When it came to the use of Puppet Silk, the Mu Family was undoubtedly the best in Dark River. But the Su Family also had a master of Puppet Silk—Su Muyu, who had used it to revive the Su Family’s long-lost Eighteen Sword Formation. And Su Changhe and Su Muyu were the closest of friends. So Su Changhe had learned a thing or two about Puppet Silk and had even incorporated it into his Inch Finger Sword technique.

The dagger he had just thrown at Mu Zi Zhe was connected to Puppet Silk. The moment Mu Zi Zhe’s sleeve wrapped around it, Su Changhe seized the opportunity, yanking hard on the thread and pulling himself straight toward Mu Zi Zhe.

"Beyond three zhang , you may reign supreme," Su Changhe said, his dagger flashing as it swept toward Mu Zi Zhe’s throat. "But now that we’re within three chi , this is my domain."

Mu Zi Zhe blocked the dagger with his sleeve as if it were a sword, then struck toward Su Changhe’s chest. Su Changhe drew two more daggers, and with three blades dancing, he shredded the white sleeve to pieces. Mu Zi Zhe frowned slightly as two paper butterflies landed at his feet. He stepped lightly on them, propelling himself backward.

He wanted to regain the distance—three zhang away.Su Changhe's body, lacking support, was inevitably beginning to fall. Yet suddenly, he flung a dagger forward, embedding it into the wall of the house ahead, then threw another backward, nailing it into the wall behind. The two daggers, connected by Puppet Silk, formed an almost invisible Silk Bridge in the air. Su Changhe grabbed the bridge, flipped onto it, and sprinted rapidly along it toward Mu Zi Zhe.

"Truly the makings of a perfect assassin," Mu Zi Zhe murmured, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. He sidestepped Su Changhe's slash, then let himself drop, lightly brushing the Silk Bridge as he fell. A line of fire instantly raced along the bridge. Mu Zi Zhe landed, flicked his sleeve, and retreated over a dozen steps.

Su Changhe landed moments later, and the distance between them returned to three zhang.

The only difference was that Mu Zi Zhe had merely lost a sleeve.

Su Changhe, however, had his upper garments completely shredded, his exposed torso streaked with blood—a thoroughly disheveled sight.

"Your moment of glory is fleeting," Mu Zi Zhe sneered.

Su Changhe glanced at the dagger in his hand. "For me, a moment is eternity."

The dagger bore a trace of blood.

Just a speck, barely visible.

Mu Zi Zhe lowered his gaze slightly and noticed a slit in the fabric over his chest. When he touched it, his fingers came away with a few drops of blood. Su Changhe's strike had indeed wounded him, though the injury was negligible—unless, of course, the dagger had been poisoned.

"I poisoned it," Su Changhe stated bluntly.

Mu Zi Zhe chuckled. "Using poison against the Mu Family? You?"

"My poison alone wouldn’t harm the Mu Family head. But..." Su Changhe looked past Mu Zi Zhe.

A bald man and a middle-aged scholar in an elegant robe stood there.

One carried a massive sword on his shoulder, the other twin blades at his waist.

Mu Zi Zhe narrowed his eyes slightly. "Unless Su Jinhui himself comes, I don’t consider the rest worth my attention."

Su Changhe grinned. "Let’s say that’s true. But facing all three of us at once leaves you no time to expel the Deadly Poison. Right now, it’s nothing to you, but in an hour, even you’d need the Miracle Healer to save your life."

Mu Zi Zhe knew Su Changhe wasn’t bluffing. He turned to study the two men before him.

The bald man scratched his head, irritation plain on his face. "I say, Boss Mu, couldn’t you have put in a little more effort and finished this lunatic before we got here?"

The scholar, however, was courteous. "We bid farewell to the Mu Family head."

With a cold snort, Mu Zi Zhe leaped past them and vanished.

Su Changhe laughed. "So, brothers, did you see my performance just now? I really almost died this time. Remember to put in a good word for me with the old man when you get back."

The bald man spat in disgust. "Should’ve stopped for a drink on the way. Then I might’ve seen you blown to bits by Mu Zi Zhe."

The scholar smiled. "The old man wants to see you."

"Again? No more work?" Su Changhe glanced behind him. "The Spider Nest—this is the perfect opportunity.""Do what you're told, you think you're the boss of the Su Family now?" the bald man scolded.

Su Changhe stretched lazily. "Fine. Just remember to tell the old man about my great achievements—standing alone against the Mu Family head, three feet apart, a flash between heaven and earth, nearly taking the Mu Family leader's head!"