“It was Dark River,” Su Muyu took out the papers from his robe. “Dark River dispatched ninety-three assassins on orders, working with several of Zhuo Yuluo’s direct disciples to initiate the Wujian City chaos. Of Zhuo Yuluo’s family of sixty-seven, only the young master survived, escaping along the river, only to be captured by Dark River. The young master of Wujian City possessed an innate sword physique, and the Su family head coveted this talent, specifically arranging for him to enter the crucible, to be trained as a Nameless One, planning to use him as the Su family’s fighting force in the future.”
“Dark River?” Xiao Chaoyan was shocked.
Above on the eaves, thunderous snoring continued as Su Changhe turned over, smacking his lips.
“Yes. The mastermind I’ve been searching for was the very place I’ve lived in all along,” Su Muyu turned to the last page of the papers. “Of the ninety-three assassins who carried out the attack, eighteen survived. I’ve looked at the names—I don’t recognize any of them. Because these people were all killed during later missions. You can look.”
“Let me see,” Xiao Chaoyan took the paper, trembling at the first name. “Su… Su Xiemo!”
“Keep reading, I have a theory,” Su Muyu said gravely.
“Su Xiaoyan, Xie Shuitao, Mu Tianze…” Xiao Chaoyan’s hands shook slightly with tension. “These people, these people…”
“You know them well, don’t you?” Su Muyu asked.
“These people—they’re all in Home Garden!” Xiao Chaoyan looked at Su Muyu, her expression full of panic.
“I understand now,” Su Muyu stood up, his hand lightly waving to catch the oil-paper umbrella leaning against the wall.
Xiao Chaoyan said urgently: “Brother Yu, what are you going to do?”
“Don’t worry. Just going to ask some questions. Wait here,” Su Muyu patted Xiao Chaoyan’s shoulder. “If the one up there wakes up, keep him here.”
“Brother Yu…” Xiao Chaoyan was anxious.
“Don’t worry,” Su Muyu smiled. “We just called this place home yesterday—I won’t massacre the village today. Where does Su Xiemo live?”
“Third house from the village entrance,” Xiao Chaoyan tugged at Su Muyu’s sleeve. “Be careful.”
“Alright,” Su Muyu walked out slowly.
The snoring on the eaves suddenly stopped. Su Changhe tumbled down, landing right in front of Xiao Chaoyan.
Xiao Chaoyan was startled: “You’re awake?”
“Was soaring through immortal realms in my dreams before falling back to the mortal world,” Su Changhe stood up, dusting himself off. “Su Muyu left.”
Xiao Chaoyan suddenly realized: “Ah, so you were pretending to be drunk all along!”
“No, no, I didn’t hear a single word about any Wujian City killers you were talking about,” Su Changhe quickly shook his head.
Xiao Chaoyan gave a cold laugh: “Sure, I believe you.”
“If he doesn’t want me to hear, naturally I won’t hear,” Su Changhe stretched. “Like that last sentence—it was meant for me. He told me not to meddle.”
Su Muyu arrived at the third house from the village entrance and gently knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Su Xiemo’s voice came from inside.
Su Muyu pushed open the door and entered. The room was dimly lit by a single candle. Su Xiemo sat alone at a wooden table with a plate of peanuts and a pot of wine.
“Elder is in good spirits,” Su Muyu said softly.
“A habit of many years,” Su Xiemo picked up a peanut and tossed it into his mouth. “Before sleep, drinking a pot of wine and eating a plate of peanuts—it’s my only relaxing and happy time each day.”
Su Muyu nodded: “I understand.”
“The moment I saw you today, I guessed your identity,” Su Xiemo raised his head, the candlelight illuminating his face, making the scar especially prominent. “And you look remarkably like your father when he was young.”
Su Muyu looked at the oil-paper umbrella in his hand: “My swordsmanship is no lesser than my father’s was.”
“Your paper umbrella—it’s your sword?” Su Xiemo asked.
“Eighteen swords hidden in the umbrella, eighteen people in this room. One sword for each of your lives,” Su Muyu said gravely.
Su Xiemo took the wine cup from the table and drank: “The Su family’s long-lost Eighteen Sword Formation?”
Su Muyu tilted his head slightly, seeing people positioned at every vital killing point in the small room. Some deliberately concealed themselves, while others had already drawn their blades, making no effort to hide their killing intent.
“You should all be dead,” Su Muyu caressed the umbrella handle. “Why are you all in Home Garden?”
“When the Soul-Taking Palace issued this mission, the Leader initially refused, because destroying Wujian City would have too great an impact, shaking Dark River’s foundation,” Su Xiemo said slowly. “But the Soul-Taking Palace was adamant, and Dark River paid a huge price—of ninety-three top assassins, only eighteen survived. And these eighteen were all hunted during subsequent missions.”
“No one could know Dark River assassins’ missions in advance except…” Su Muyu frowned slightly, “The Soul-Taking Palace.”
“Yes. The Leader suspected this was a conspiracy between the Soul-Taking Palace and the client to silence witnesses,” Su Xiemo said gravely.
Su Muyu lowered his head in thought: “Dark River never silences witnesses because you never know the client’s information.”
“True. But that time was different. The client wanted the sword manuals stored in Wujian City, so the night we attacked, many others were also there stealing the manuals. The two forces briefly clashed by mistake. During the clash, I identified their sword technique,” Su Xiemo raised a finger slightly. “Cloud-Riding Nine Heavens!”
“Nine Heavens Sword Technique?” Su Muyu’s hand holding the paper umbrella trembled slightly, killing intent suddenly rising. “Wushuang City!”
The other assassins in the room were infected by Su Muyu’s killing intent, tensing up instantly, ready to strike.
“Wait!” Su Xiemo slammed the table heavily, forcefully suppressing the others’ killing intent.
“This sword technique has no equal under heaven. Yet ironically, the First Martial City that claims to be unmatched is also famous for its swordsmanship,” Su Muyu mused. “So that’s how it is.”
“I’ve told Young Master Su everything I know. One thing I must tell you: we feel no attachment to you, nor guilt. Dark River kills on orders—you’ve done the same all these years,” Su Xiemo finished his last cup of wine. “If you seek revenge, we will kill you!”