Nine Heavens City.
Within a grand vermilion-gated courtyard.
Dozens of burly swordsmen stood in formation, each wielding a blade without exception—none sheathed. The naked steel glinted coldly under the sunlight.
Behind the swordsmen, an elder with graying temples sipped tea leisurely. Beside him stood a Golden Ring broadsword, its aura fierce and menacing. A long scar ran across his face, yet incongruously, before him lay an elegant long table adorned with delicate tea utensils.
The tea simmered gently over a low flame, its fragrance slowly unfurling in the air.
The swordsmen in the courtyard stared ahead, their expressions unchanging, as if carved from stone.
Finally, the gates creaked open, and Xie Qianji stepped inside, cradling the headless corpse of Xie Fanhua in his arms. The elder lifted his gaze slightly, his brow twitching almost imperceptibly.
The swordsmen parted silently, clearing a path.
Step by step, Xie Qianji carried Xie Fanhua forward, passing through the ranks of swordsmen until he stood before the elder.
The elder poured a cup of tea unhurriedly and pushed it forward.
Xie Qianji laid down the corpse and knelt on one knee. "Xie Fanhua was killed by the Su Family while attempting to seize the Sleeping Dragon Sword."
"You’ve always had poor health—couldn’t drink, only tea. Claimed it prolonged life. But I told you long ago, for assassins, life is lived by the blade. A day of indulgence is a day well spent." The elder raised his eyes to the headless corpse before him. Without a head, not even a final gaze in death could be exchanged. A surge of fury rose within him. He drew the Golden Ring broadsword at his side and slashed down, cleaving the long table and the tea set atop it into splinters.
Scalding tea sprayed into the air, splashing onto Xie Qianji. He gritted his teeth but remained silent, knowing this was the family head’s punishment. The other swordsmen all dropped to one knee in unison, chanting, "Family Head, restrain your grief."
The elder turned his gaze to Xie Qianji on the ground. "And Xie Qidao’s disciple?"
Xie Qianji’s heart chilled. Reluctantly, he replied, "Xie Bu Xie was defeated by Su Muyu and then left. His whereabouts are unknown."
"Unknown?" The elder frowned slightly. "Are you saying Xie Bu Xie has defected?"
Xie Qianji bowed his head. "This disciple dares not presume."
"Dark River has no such thing as 'unknown whereabouts.' To leave without permission is to defect." The elder raised a finger and flicked it lightly. "Send two men to find him. Then summon Xie Qidao to Nine Heavens City."
Xie Qianji lifted his head. "Uncle Qidao—when I sought him out earlier, he drove me away."
"Everything has its price. If he wishes to protect his disciple, he must pay the price. Dark River is no martial sect. Secluding oneself to train with the blade? Ridiculous." The elder sneered.
"Then now—" Xie Qianji began to rise.
"Who permitted you to stand?" The elder swung the back of his blade forward, striking Xie Qianji to the ground. "Kneel. For three days."
"Family Head." From the crowd, a swordsman stepped forward—noticeably slighter in build compared to the burly men around her. Because she was a woman.
The elder glanced at her. "Hua Qing."
"Leave this matter to me," the woman said, a faint smile curling her lips.
Meanwhile, in another grand courtyard within Nine Heavens City.
A group of white-robed figures gathered.They were all dressed in white, and even the tables, gates, and wooden pillars in the courtyard had been painted white, as if preparing for a funeral.
Of course, that had not been their original intention. It was simply because the Mu Family of Dark River had always favored the color white. From the family head Mu Zi Zhe down to the lowest members, most of the Mu Family wore only white when they went out, appearing spotless and transcendent. This often drew ridicule from the Su and Xie Families—after all, they were in the business of killing for money, yet still tried to affect an air of refinement.
But today, the white robes and the white courtyard were fitting.
Because someone had indeed died.
In Dark River, death was a common occurrence. But this time, the one who had died was the son of the Mu Family head—Mu Bai.
The one who killed Mu Bai was a member of the Su Family, also part of Dark River.
The body was placed on a wooden bier at the very center of the courtyard.
Mu Qingyang, dressed in Daoist robes, stood beside the bier, idly flipping a Peach Blossom Coin in his hand as he looked up at Mu Xuewei before him.
Mu Xuewei had her hands tucked into her sleeves, gazing down at Mu Bai’s corpse.
The chest of the body had caved in, clearly crushed by a heavy blow—he had been beaten to death.
The Mu Family’s medical skills were unparalleled, second only to those of Medicine King Valley. But even the most extraordinary medical skills could not bring back the dead.
The crowd surrounding the corpse remained silent. They were all waiting for one person.
The head of the Mu Family—Mu Zi Zhe.
The white gate did not open, but the white-clad figure had already appeared before them.
"Family Head!" The crowd knelt in unison.
Mu Zi Zhe’s eyes immediately fell on the wooden bier and the corpse atop it. His expression remained unchanged as he walked slowly to the bier and glanced at the body. "Who killed him?"
"Su Zhe of the Su Family," Mu Qingyang replied.
Mu Zi Zhe nodded. "If it was his Golden Ring, then such damage is indeed possible. The Su Family actually sent out that monster—have they sided with The Head?"
Mu Qingyang shook his head. "Unlikely. He appeared to kill the Miracle Healer from Medicine King Valley, but suddenly turned on us during the journey. The young master and I initially escaped, but he was still struck by Su Zhe’s Golden Ring. I barely managed to retrieve the young master’s body at the cost of my life."
"Those of Dark River live and die like mayflies—such is the way of things. Even my son is no exception. There is no need for such solemnity." Mu Zi Zhe turned away, no longer looking at the corpse.
A collective sigh of relief passed through the crowd.
Mu Xuewei and Mu Qingyang exchanged a glance, knowing the matter was far from simple.
"Bring him out," Mu Zi Zhe suddenly said.
The crowd stiffened. Mu Xuewei opened her mouth to speak in alarm, but Mu Qingyang swiftly raised a hand to stop her. He turned and said, "The journey back would be too long."
"Not long. He has already arrived." Mu Zi Zhe looked toward the gate.
The white gate slowly creaked open as four white-robed, bamboo-hatted members of the Mu Family floated in, carrying a black coffin. Their steps were soundless, ghostly—yet when they released their grip, the coffin landed with a deafening thud.
Mu Qingyang’s face turned ashen, his right fist slowly clenching. "Family Head...""If the Su Family insists on this fight to the death, then the Mu Family will see it through to the end." Mu Zi Zhe walked to the side of the black coffin and gave it a heavy pat.
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