Nine years later.
In this courtyard of the Nine Heavens City, Su Muyu drew his Fine Rain Sword against Su Changhe, while Su Changhe kept the dagger hidden in his sleeve.
“You think you’re protecting, but in my eyes, you’re just using protection as an excuse to run away,” Su Changhe sighed softly, bending slightly, his hand flicking up as the dagger appeared in his grip.
Bai Hehuai looked down at the Grand Elder: “Aren’t we going to stop them?”
The Grand Elder lowered his head with a slight smile: “This battle between them was inevitable.”
“Changhe, take your people and withdraw. Let me talk with the Grand Elder,” Su Muyu said gravely.
“No more withdrawing.” Su Changhe sprang forward, appearing before Su Muyu, his dagger spinning lightly as it struck toward Su Muyu’s throat.
Su Muyu dodged sideways, his Fine Rain Sword weaving a flower of sword light toward Su Changhe’s heart, but Su Changhe easily deflected it. Su Changhe sneered: “Back then, I told you to practice the Inch-Sword technique with me, so we could each hide dozens of daggers. But you insisted on learning the Eighteen Sword Formation, putting on airs with your umbrella. The Eighteen Sword Formation needs to be reset after each use, and you’ve already used it once against Mu Ciling today. With just the Fine Rain Sword alone, can you defeat me?”
Su Muyu remained silent, retreating three steps. His left hand lightly touched the ground, releasing eight puppet strings that bound the weapons at the Spider Shadow members’ waists. With a wave of his left hand, the weapons flew from their sheaths, attacking Su Changhe simultaneously. Su Changhe backflipped several times, his dagger flashing rapidly with clear metallic clangs as he blocked while cursing: “Why does everyone in our Dark River act like circus performers?”
The Eighteen Sword Formation, now with only eight swords, showed no decrease in power. Su Muyu’s left fingers moved delicately, the puppet strings swiftly controlling the eight blades.
“This sword-controlling technique is like playing a zither,” Bai Hehuai said softly.
The Grand Elder took a puff from his pipe and nodded: “The creator of the Eighteen Sword Formation was named Su Eighteen. In his youth, he fell in love with a woman. She was skilled at the zither, perhaps even the finest in the land. But she was his assassination target. In the end, Su Eighteen killed her, but to commemorate her, he created this Eighteen Sword Formation by mimicking her zither-playing techniques.”
“He killed his beloved, then created a killing technique to commemorate her?” Bai Hehuai pursed his lips. “What a twisted story.”
The Grand Elder blew out a smoke ring: “Without madness, there is no life. Only the maddest could create such an extraordinary sword technique.”
Bai Hehuai shook his head: “That’s not necessarily true. I heard this technique was lost after Su Eighteen until Su Muyu revived it, but Su Muyu doesn’t seem like a mad person.”
The Grand Elder smiled meaningfully: “Oh? Then what kind of person do you think Su Muyu is?”
Bai Hehuai pondered for a moment, then replied: “An honest man?”
Even in such a tense situation, the surrounding Spider Shadow members all burst into laughter simultaneously. Even the Grand Elder could barely contain his amusement: “Doctor Bai, you truly are an interesting person.”
Su Changhe laughed too: “Doctor Bai, have you fallen for my good brother?”
“Nonsense.” Bai Hehuai’s face reddened slightly. “How can you eavesdrop while fighting?”
“Changhe.” Su Muyu’s fingertip flicked, and a sword sliced through Su Changhe’s left arm.
“Heh.” Su Changhe bent slightly. “Are you going to try to persuade me again? Do you think I can’t beat you?” Su Changhe’s hands swept out, sending over a dozen daggers flying toward Su Muyu. Su Muyu first deflected with the sword formation in his left hand, then suddenly transformed defense into attack, eight swords falling like rain, shredding the daggers to pieces. But one dagger broke through the sword net, flying toward his brow.
“I practiced this Eighteen Sword Formation with you.” Su Changhe’s form flickered through the sword net, catching the final dagger. “I know your weaknesses better than anyone!”
“When the swords pour down like evening rain—that’s your weakness.”
Su Changhe swung the caught dagger, stopping at Su Muyu’s throat, just as Su Muyu’s sword pressed against Su Changhe’s neck.
“Another draw?” Su Changhe pursed his lips, withdrawing his blade.
Su Muyu also withdrew his sword, stepping back.
“This is just like you. You know you can neither advance nor retreat, yet you do nothing, say nothing. Are you thinking right now that neither the Grand Elder nor Su Changhe can die unless you die first?” Su Changhe asked with a cold smile.
Bai Hehuai wanted to applaud—Su Changhe had captured Su Muyu’s thoughts perfectly!
Su Muyu just silently shook his head.
“Everyone has their bottom line, but your bottom line is higher than my ceiling. It’s so frustrating! I’ve been frustrated for many years!” After speaking, Su Changhe roared, throwing his dagger at Su Muyu.
Su Muyu knocked the dagger away with his sword, but Su Changhe suddenly drew an extremely thin, flexible golden sword from his sleeve.
To call it a sword was a stretch—it was as thin as a needle.
“The Golden Thread Sword,” the Grand Elder exclaimed.
Su Changhe’s Golden Thread Sword clashed with Su Muyu’s Fine Rain Sword. The Golden Thread Sword wrapped around the Fine Rain Sword like a ribbon. When Su Muyu lifted his sword, Su Changhe’s entire body spun into the air. Su Changhe released his grip, freeing the Golden Thread Sword, then grasped the hilt as he descended.
A golden flash followed, and Su Changhe’s Golden Thread Sword pierced Su Muyu’s shoulder while Su Muyu’s Fine Rain Sword left a cut across Su Changhe’s left cheek before falling from his hand. Then Su Changhe suddenly abandoned his sword for a palm strike, bringing it before Su Muyu’s face.
The Grand Elder immediately stood up, shouting: “The Yanma Palm!”
Su Muyu closed his eyes, seemingly resigned.
“You try to be a good person while being an assassin—it’s laughable! But it’s fine. The people you won’t kill, I’ll kill for you. The sins you won’t bear, I’ll bear for you. I’ll even pave the way if you want to leave. But the one thing I cannot do is send you to your death—even though they call me the Undertaker.” Su Changhe withdrew his palm, stepping back three paces before turning to the Grand Elder and shouting fiercely, “Grand Elder!”
The Grand Elder shouted back just as fiercely: “Very well!”