Three days later, at Haer Lake where Qingzhou and Jinzhou bordered. Li Si woke to find a person standing at his feet—a man in gray robes who looked at people through his nostrils. Who else could it be but that old fellow Lao Sitou?

Lao Sitou explained to Li Si that he had encountered Eagle Catcher Yan Cheng and learned some news about Meng Rui. It was said that not only was Meng Rui not dead, but he had gone to a mysterious small island in the East Sea to search for his missing sister.

Next, Lao Sitou told Li Si an even more shocking piece of news: on the way back to the Holy City, Zhang Xianglin and the Demon-Men were all killed, and the killer was actually Cui Yunhai.

Lao Sitou spoke while raising his eyebrows. This Lao Sitou had certainly also perceived the Shadow Demon-Men and Huo Daozhang’s conspiracy, yet he pretended as if nothing had happened. How cunning.

Li Si simply told him everything, then said with surprise, “This Cui Yunhai is undoubtedly the Shadow Demon-Man Xiao Liu’er, but he has no reason to kill Zhang Xianglin and the Demon-Men. Wouldn’t that be tantamount to betraying the Crown Prince and helping Prince Ding?”

Lao Sitou remained silent with a somber voice.

Another bold notion suddenly flashed through Li Si’s mind. He spoke aloud, “Could it be that this Cui Yunhai is Lin Mang, and Xiao Liu’er was the one who was killed?”

Lao Sitou slowly responded, “If Lin Mang killed Xiao Liu’er and detected Huo Daozhang’s trick, why didn’t he tell Zhang Xianglin? If he had spoken, Zhang Xianglin wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

Li Si’s mind turned over a thousand times. “I’ve been thinking that between the Demon-Men and Zhang Xianglin, there should be no direct contact, but rather a connecting intermediary. Lin Mang told what he discovered to the intermediary, but the intermediary didn’t tell Zhang Xianglin.”

“Then how do you explain the Ghost Script Code secret letter?” Lao Sitou asked again.

“We saw the secret letter in Lin Mang’s small room and preconceived that it was written by Lin Mang, but perhaps it had nothing to do with Lin Mang at all,” Li Si’s words became increasingly shocking. “I even think it was a clue someone deliberately left for us.”

“Who? That intermediary…” Lao Sitou thought and said.

Li Si slowly nodded.

“Who exactly is the intermediary?” Lao Sitou pondered deeply.

Li Si said nothing. Before his eyes suddenly flashed a familiar yet strange face—he had an incomparably hard name—Bone.

Could it be him? Could it be?

And while Li Si and Lao Sitou talked incessantly, in the horse cart, the unconscious Bai Zhenzhu’s eyelids moved slightly, and a clear tear quietly slid down her cheek…

Did she know that someone was waiting for her to wake up?