Su Muyu woke from his dream, smacking his lips.
“Meal time,” the guard impatiently knocked on the iron bars.
“Perfect timing, I’m hungry.” Su Muyu smiled, looking at the food pushed through the bars—a coarse corn bun, a bowl of questionably clean white rice porridge, and a dish of pickled vegetables. His smile froze as reality pulled him from his dream.
“Hurry up and eat,” the guard urged.
Su Muyu shook his head: “It’s this thin porridge and pickles every day. Could we have something different?”
“What do you want to eat?” the guard shouted angrily.
“I want fried tofu puffs,” Su Muyu replied calmly.
The guard was stunned for a moment, then his eyes widened as if he’d heard an absurd joke, and he burst out laughing: “Fried tofu puffs? Who do you think you are, an honored guest? You’re a prisoner! Hurry up and drink your porridge, or you won’t even get that!”
“Fried tofu puffs, and with meat filling at that.” A white-haired man appeared silently beside the guard, who turned and jumped in fright, immediately bowing: “Lord Water Official.”
The Water Official bent down, picked up the corn bun, and tapped it against the guard’s helmet with a crisp “dong” sound: “This bun is quite hard. The Sect Master wants to negotiate with someone, and this is the food you provide?”
The guard hesitated: “The Sect Master didn’t specify anything… prisoners in Shadow Prison have always eaten this…”
“Go prepare fried tofu puffs for Master Su, with meat filling,” the Water Official casually tossed the bun into the guard’s arms. “What else would you like, Master Su?”
“Just a bowl of hot white rice will do,” Su Muyu replied.
“Go do it.” The Water Official tossed a piece of silver. The guard caught it and hurried away without another word.
“What brings you to visit me today?” Su Muyu asked after the guard left.
“Someone came to see you in Shadow Prison this morning?” the Water Official asked.
“Yes,” Su Muyu nodded.
“Do you know who he is?” the Water Official’s pupils contracted slightly.
“I don’t know, but I can guess,” Su Muyu answered directly.
“Then do you know that although he seems to have faded from Tianqi City’s intrigues, he remains someone no one dares provoke—a dangerous figure even the Prince of Langya must constantly guard against?” the Water Official said quietly.
Su Muyu sighed lightly: “Even if I know, what of it? Meeting him or not wasn’t my decision to make.”
“What did you discuss?” the Water Official asked.
“He wanted to cooperate with Dark River, but didn’t state his terms,” Su Muyu shook his head. “I didn’t agree.”
“But you didn’t refuse either?” The Water Official’s tone carried a hint of frost.
“You seem… very concerned about this person,” Su Muyu noticed something unusual about the Water Official today.
The Water Official let out a light breath, his face returning to its usual slightly mocking smile: “Only because this person is truly too frightening—compared to Yi Bu, he’s ten or a hundred times more terrible. I lost my composure a bit. I just want to warn Family Head Su not to make any deals with this person.”
“Even Yi Bu chose to use Dark River to assassinate the Prince of Langya rather than cooperate with this person—I can naturally sense the danger,” Su Muyu nodded. “Don’t worry.”
“Good. The Patriarch has already attempted an assassination of the Prince of Langya according to his plan. The assassination naturally failed, and the Patriarch feigned severe injury to request Yi Bu’s permission for all Dark River’s elite assassins to enter Tianqi City,” the Water Official said.
“The time to draw swords is approaching,” Su Muyu said gravely.
“Yes. The time to draw swords is approaching,” the Water Official sneered.
At the Morning Visitor Inn.
Su Changhe lay on the bed, wrapped in white bandages, while Mu Qingyang sat beside him, playing with a peach blossom coin.
“Has that list been delivered to Seventh Uncle?” Su Changhe suddenly asked.
“It’s been sent. At Seventh Uncle’s speed, those people should already be on their way,” Mu Qingyang replied. “I glanced at the list, Patriarch, you’re ruthless.”
“How so?” Su Changhe asked with a smile.
“Setting aside strategy and martial arts, your list had only one criterion…” Mu Qingyang deliberately lowered his voice, “Whoever kills best, comes.”
“Isn’t that Dark River’s very essence?” Su Changhe raised an eyebrow. “It’s just a pity that my list should have included one Mu Ciling, but I couldn’t find him.”
“Mu Ciling? The one all three family heads feared enough to nail into a coffin—you’d dare use him?” Mu Qingyang was shocked.
“They were too foolish. Mu Ciling’s power indeed reached frightening levels. But the man himself has no interest in power or influence—he only wants to be a blade. As the family heads leading the clan, they shouldn’t have thought to seal away this blade, but rather how to use it well,” Su Changhe replied.
“Well, that makes some sense,” a bold voice rang out from outside.
“Who’s there?” Mu Qingyang put away his coin and drew his sword.
The door was kicked open, and a man in red clothing stood outside. He stepped forward to enter but was bumped back.
Because the huge blade slung across his back was too long and had knocked him back out.
He shrugged, put away the blade, and entered again.
“Mu Ciling!” Mu Qingyang exclaimed.
“Yes, yes. Don’t shout like you’ve seen a ghost,” Mu Ciling grinned. “Or I’ll kill you.”
Su Changhe smiled and told Mu Qingyang to put away his sword: “You’ve finally come to find me.”
Mu Ciling’s eyes flashed with killing intent: “You knew I would come?”
“I just thought it was possible,” Su Changhe looked at Mu Ciling’s blade. “Because I believed the poison in your body hasn’t been cured.”
“That bastard Mu Zizhi tricked me!” Mu Ciling raged. “Where is that bastard? I need to settle accounts with him.”
“I suspect he’s also here in Tianqi City,” Su Changhe sat up in bed. “Let’s make a deal. I can have Mu Qingyang completely cure your poison right now.”
“You can?” Mu Ciling glanced at Mu Qingyang.
Mu Qingyang looked at Su Changhe before saying: “It’s not difficult.”
“And I can give you a chance to kill Mu Zizhi,” Su Changhe added.
“Deal,” Mu Ciling said directly.
“Won’t you ask my conditions?” Su Changhe smiled.
“No need. Your condition will just be that I help you kill someone,” Mu Ciling patted the blade on his body. “This deal is fair.”