Xie Huaqing swung his blade back in a slash, but Su Zhe used the golden rings on his Buddhist staff to tightly lock it in place, then flung it upward, sending Xie Huaqing crashing onto the roof of the tavern.
"Keep moving forward. Don’t look back," Su Zhe said solemnly.
Su Muyu gave a slight nod and continued walking ahead.
"With me blocking the path, neither gods nor ghosts shall pass," Su Zhe declared, slamming his Buddhist staff heavily onto the ground.
In the main hall of the Su Family’s courtyard, Su Jinhui warmed a pot of wine for himself, with a plate of spiced beef placed before him, leisurely drinking alone. The swordsmen stood behind him, glaring intently at the courtyard.
In the center of the yard, a bald swordsman stood in the rain, gripping his sword, his gaze fixed fiercely on the gate.
A man in a straw raincoat rushed in from outside the courtyard, leaping onto the wall and whispering, "Su Muyu has passed Qinghe Street. He’ll be here in half the time it takes for an incense stick to burn."
The bald swordsman rubbed his head. "Well, well. Did he come alone?"
"He was with Su Zhe at first, but Su Zhe stayed behind to hold off the Xie Family’s blade master," the newcomer replied.
"It seems he’s discovered our hideout and came specifically for us," Su Muqiu, sitting cross-legged beside Su Jinhui in the hall, said with a faint smile. "Alone? Does he intend to negotiate with us?"
"Would he even want to negotiate?" Su Jinhui turned his head to ask the man in the inner chamber.
Inside, Su Changhe lay on a bamboo cot, his body wrapped in bandages. "What could Su Muyu possibly negotiate? He barely speaks on a normal day—do you really expect him to suddenly become eloquent?"
"Sometimes negotiations don’t require words, especially among the Su Family," Su Jinhui said slowly, sipping his warm wine. "A sword will do just fine."
"By the time we finish this pot of wine, he should be here," Su Muqiu murmured.
Su Changhe’s brow furrowed slightly. Su Muyu’s arrival was unexpected. He lightly touched the dagger at his waist. What could have happened?
The bald swordsman in the courtyard raised his head, watching the curtain of rain, his grip on his sword trembling faintly. "I’ve been waiting for this day for a long time."
"Aze, steady your hand," Su Muqiu said calmly.
The bald swordsman lowered his head and sneered. "I’m not afraid. I’m excited."
At that moment, the gate creaked open slowly.
Su Muyu stepped inside, holding a paper umbrella. He kept the brim low, obscuring half of his face.
Su Jinhui lifted his gaze slightly, and behind him, every single swordsman placed a hand on their hilts.
Su Muyu gently twisted the umbrella’s handle, shaking off the rainwater that had gathered on its surface.
Su Changhe sat up from the bamboo cot, spinning his dagger lightly between his fingers, his lips curling slightly. "Su Ze, against Su Muyu?"
The bald swordsman named Su Ze drew his longsword from his waist and pointed it at Su Muyu. "I’ve been waiting for you, Su Muyu."
Su Muyu continued forward. "I’m here to see the old master."
"Halt!" Su Ze barked.
Su Muyu stopped in his tracks, tilting his umbrella slightly upward. His gaze bypassed Su Ze entirely, locking onto Su Jinhui in the hall. "Old Master."
"It’s been a while, Lord Puppet," Su Jinhui said, downing the last of his wine. "I have nothing to discuss with you. Aze, kill him.""Understood!" Su Ze laughed heartily, thrusting his sword straight at Su Muyu. Su Muyu swiftly retreated, flicking his left hand to form a Rain Sword that shot toward Su Ze. With a single slash, Su Ze shattered the Rain Sword into fragments.
"Child's play! Bring out your Eighteen Sword Formation!" Su Ze leaped high into the air, his longsword descending with the force of the rain. Su Muyu raised his umbrella to block, the stone tiles beneath his feet instantly pulverized by the impact.
The rain in the courtyard seemed to intensify.
"You wish to see my sword?" Su Muyu asked calmly.
"Yes. Let's see who truly is the strongest swordsman of this generation in the Su Family!" Su Ze shouted.
Su Changhe stretched lazily in discontent. "Why must the strongest swordsman of the Su Family be between them? Am I not worthy of mention?"
Su Muqiu, smiling, called out to Su Changhe in the inner hall, "You use daggers. In Aze's eyes, you're not a swordsman."
"Inch Finger Sword is still a sword," Su Changhe twirled his dagger. "Care to place a bet on who will win?"
Su Muqiu shook his head. "Aze is still too young. Moyu will win."
"Then I'll raise the stakes—Su Muyu won't even need to use the Eighteen Sword Formation to win," Su Changhe chuckled.
Su Muyu suddenly flicked his umbrella upward, lifting Su Ze into the air. "I heard you practice the Soul Extinguishing Swordplay—not content with just killing, you aim to shatter souls. But while your sword carries malice, it lacks dominance. Dominance isn't about cruelty or ferocity."
"Then what is it?" Su Ze flipped midair and slashed down again, cleaving the curtain of rain apart.
"It's disdain," Su Muyu sidestepped, leaping behind Su Ze in an instant. "It's when your inner strength is truly overwhelming that you can afford to look down on others." With those words, Su Muyu pressed a finger to Su Ze's spine.
With a loud "thud," Su Ze was sent flying into the hall by the Finger Sword, landing at Su Jinhui's feet.
Su Jinhui remained expressionless, not even raising an eyebrow, as he poured himself another cup of wine.
Su Muqiu sighed. "It seems your bet wasn't bold enough. Su Muyu didn't just forgo the Eighteen Sword Formation—he didn't even use his sword." As soon as he spoke, a cold glint flashed. Su Muqiu looked up to see Su Muyu holding a paper umbrella in his left hand and a sword in his right, twirling it gracefully before planting it beside Su Ze's head. Then Su Muyu turned to Su Jinhui and called out, "Family Head."
But Su Jinhui didn't look at him, his gaze fixed on the sword on the ground. A coiled dragon adorned the hilt, its eyes briefly flickering with light before dimming once more.
Su Muqiu also stared at the sword, murmuring, "Sleeping Dragon Sword."
"The Head has recovered from his poisoning. He sent me here with the Sleeping Dragon Sword to deliver it to the Su Family Head," Su Muyu said slowly.
The hall fell silent, none of the Su Family assassins daring to utter a word—even Su Ze, lying defeated on the ground, held his breath.
Su Muqiu's right cheek twitched slightly.
Seeing no response, Su Muyu continued, "The Sleeping Dragon Sword is to be passed to the Su Family Head. From this day forth, the Head steps down, and the position of Dark River Grand Master shall be assumed by the Su Family Head. Elder, please accept the sword!"Su Muqiu slightly bowed his head. As Su Changhe had said, Su Muyu was not skilled in negotiations. Such an important matter was concluded in just a few words. Of course, he hadn’t come here to negotiate, but to pass on the position. The weight of this succession was truly difficult to refuse—yet difficult to refuse did not mean one had to accept it immediately.
Drawing that sword would make him the Dark River Grand Master.
But once he drew that sword, everyone in Nine Heavens City who was not of the Su Family would turn their blades against him.
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