"Leave the Su Family, go where you wish, do what you desire. For centuries, something no one would ever permit—yet our family's old master is willing to make an exception for you." Su Changhe shook his head repeatedly. "Such generous terms. Sometimes I truly envy you. Though we emerged from the same Crucible, the old master's favor toward you is simply too much."
"And if I refuse?" Su Muyu asked.
"The old master fished you from the river and raised you all these years. How long have you followed The Head? Could your bond with The Head possibly run deeper than with the Su Family?" Su Changhe countered.
"My ties to the Su Family do indeed run deeper than those with The Head. But now I am a Puppet, and thus answer only to The Head." Su Muyu shook his head gently. "My apologies."
"Exactly, precisely so. I gave those very words back to the old master, knowing you'd say as much." Su Changhe shrugged, his wrist flicking lightly as he grasped the dagger. "Then the old master said, in that case—kill him."
Su Muyu tightened his grip on the oil-paper umbrella: "Does the old master seek to claim the position of The Head through rebellion?"
"Not just the old master. The Xie Family wants it, the Mu Family wants it. So this position can only go to—whoever is strongest! At its core, this all stems from you. In previous generations, the next Dark River Grand Master was always directly succeeded by the Puppet. But this generation's Puppet is you. Who are you? You're Su Muyu, just as I am Su Changhe—we're both Nameless Ones by origin." Su Changhe sneered. "Those of Nameless origin have no right to command the entire Dark River."
"I've no desire for this position. Once The Head recovers from his injuries, I'll discuss it with him and have him select a suitable successor for the Puppet role," Su Muyu replied.
"Sometimes you're terrifyingly strong, other times adorably naive." Su Changhe leaned forward slightly, shaking his head. "If not for your martial prowess, you'd have died a hundred times over."
"If Luo Buxi hadn't been terrifyingly strong yet adorably naive back then, you wouldn't have become Su Changhe either." Su Zhe entered, leaning on his Buddhist staff, and stood beside Su Changhe.
"Uncle Zhe." Su Muyu bowed his head respectfully.
"Little Muyu, you and little Changhe are nearly matched in combat. But add me to the mix—what do you think?" Su Zhe shook his staff, its Golden Rings chiming crisply.
"Facing both Uncle Zhe and Chang He together, I'd naturally be outmatched. But one must always try." Su Muyu inclined slightly as killing intent gradually coalesced around him. The three had once fought side by side against the invasion of the Demonic Sect's forces—each knew the others' capabilities all too well. For any one of them to face the other two simultaneously left only the path of a fight to the death.
"Stubborn as a wooden donkey—that's you through and through." Su Changhe lunged forward, closing the distance to Su Muyu in an instant. As Muyu sidestepped, the dagger in Changhe's hand shot out, grazing the demonic mask on Muyu's face before hurtling toward the statue of Patriarch Lü within the hall.
In that moment, the statue's eyes seemed to rotate slightly.
The dagger embedded itself in the statue's forehead—then the entire figure of Patriarch Lü shattered explosively. A scream erupted from behind the statue, followed by a white shadow flashing past, crashing straight through the roof and vanishing.Su Changhe raised his head, looking at the white-robed man standing on the rooftop, and sneered, "Mu Zhe of the Mu Family, did you enjoy eavesdropping inside?"
Mu Zhe pressed several major acupoints on his chest to stop the bleeding and retorted coldly, "The Su Family is plotting rebellion!"
"Doesn’t the Mu Family want to? Doesn’t the Xie Family?" Su Changhe stretched his hand toward the hall, and the dagger immediately flew back into his grasp. "Action only needs one reason, but the outcome depends solely on one’s strength."
Mu Zhe snorted coldly, tapped his foot, and fled in a flash.
Su Changhe tightened his grip on the dagger and turned to look at Su Muyu. At this moment, Su Muyu’s demon mask had been split in half and lay shattered on the ground, revealing the youthful face beneath.
As Bai Hehuai had said, beneath the mask was a cold yet handsome face, though his slightly furrowed brows carried a trace of melancholy.
"Chang He," Su Muyu lightly raised the oil-paper umbrella in his hand.
"Enough." Su Changhe suddenly sheathed his dagger, straightened his back, and the killing intent around him dissipated in an instant. He stretched lazily. "If you really unleashed the sword array, cleaning up afterward would be too much trouble for me. Let’s end it here today. How could I ever truly kill you? We’re the best of brothers, after all."
Su Zhe suddenly chuckled, taking out a smoking pipe from his robe and leisurely lighting it. "Aye, all good brothers here. Let’s talk things out properly."
Su Muyu exhaled in relief, stepping back cautiously, his eyes still wary.
"But if I fail the task the old man assigned, I’ll be dead when I return. An arrow shot cannot be taken back. The Head must die this time, and I must obtain the Sleeping Dragon Sword." Su Changhe turned away. "Prepare yourself, Su Muyu."
Su Zhe watched Su Changhe leave, took a puff of his pipe, and sighed. "That little Chang He, always spouting nonsense—hardly a word worth believing. But what he just said, I believe. He won’t kill you. You two are the best of brothers."
Su Muyu glanced at Su Zhe and smiled faintly. "Uncle Zhe, I’ve noticed that when you speak seriously, your Mandarin suddenly becomes impeccable."
Su Zhe raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Aye?"
On the main road, a carriage raced swiftly. Bai Hehuai sat inside, feeling no jostling at all—not even a sound from outside reached her. Curious, she tapped the wooden panel beside her. "This carriage is truly fascinating."
The Head reclined on the soft seat and chuckled. "This is a contraption devised by Third Master Ban of the Ban Family. It completely isolates the inside from the outside."
"Then if someone comes to kill us, wouldn’t we be completely unaware?" Bai Hehuai asked curiously.
"Hahaha, this carriage has thirteen mechanisms, each one deadly. Third Master Ban said that without him personally here, even hundreds of masters couldn’t breach it." The Head took a sip of tea and murmured.
"What if Third Master Ban came?" Bai Hehuai pressed.
The Head smiled. "Ten days after completing this carriage, Third Master Ban died."
Bai Hehuai narrowed her eyes slightly.
"He died of illness," the Head emphasized.
Bai Hehuai exhaled softly. "Then if I cure you, will I also die of illness?"The Head smiled and patted Bai Hehuai on the shoulder: "Of course not, you're the Miracle Healer after all. Besides, can I really still be cured?"
"Snow Falling on a Plum Branch." Bai Hehuai pursed his lips. "All I can say is that you can survive, Head. As for how long..."
"That's enough!" The Head put down his teacup and closed his eyes.
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