Su Jinhui swept a wave of sword energy toward Mu Ciling, carrying such intense cold that it instantly froze the rainwater on the ground into ice. Mu Ciling retreated while wielding his demon-subduing blade to block the frost sword energy, until finally, with nowhere left to retreat, he thrust his blade into the ground.

A cracking sound rang out as the ice shattered instantly. Mu Ciling looked up to find the snake sword already at his brow. He blocked with his blade, kicked off the ground, and vaulted over Su Jinhui’s head.

The falling rain turned to hail three zhang from the ground, pelting Mu Ciling’s body one piece at a time.

Mu Ciling touched his eyebrows, which were already coated with frost and smiled. “Now this is interesting.”

Su Changhe patted Su Muyu’s shoulder. “Well? Want to place a bet? Who do you think will win?”

The sword energy Su Muyu had been slowly gathering dissipated at Su Changhe’s pat, leaving her annoyed but helpless. People in the Dark River either feared or respected someone like Su Muyu, all keeping their distance—except for this shameless Su Changhe, who always left her caught between laughter and tears. Su Muyu watched the eaves slowly being covered in frost: “The Clan Leader is going all out now. Even though Mu Ciling has learned the Yanmo Palm, his foundation isn’t deep enough. Given enough time, he’ll inevitably lose.”

“You’re wrong. If you’d read the Yanmo Palm manual, you wouldn’t be so naive,” Su Changhe stroked his goatee. “With a martial art as mad as that one, foundation depth hardly matters.”

“You’ve read it?” Su Muyu was startled.

“No, no, just guessing!” Su Changhe quickly raised both hands in denial, but the playful smile at the corners of his mouth made the truth of his clarification uncertain.

“In the Journey to the West stories, that Monkey King drew a circle with his staff.” Mu Ciling gently turned his demon-subduing blade and drew a circle. “From then on, no matter how the demons and spirits raged outside the circle, within it was a peaceful realm.” After drawing the circle, Mu Ciling held his blade vertically, and red energy emanated from his body, stopping at the drawn circle’s edge, completely enveloping him.

When the hailstones hit the circle, they melted back into rainwater and slid to the ground.

“The only difference is that the Monkey King’s circle trapped people, while my circle moved with me. Wherever I am becomes my domain.” Mu Ciling charged toward Su Jinhui. Along his path, all the ice melted back to the water, and finally, his blade fell, shattering Su Jinhui’s frost sword energy.

Su Changhe lightly twirled the dagger in his hand. “This show is only missing the Xie family’s presence. It feels a bit dull without them.”

At the Sword Song Tavern on Qingping Street in Jiuxiao City.

Bai Hehuai watched the scene below and finally breathed a sigh of relief. She turned back to reach for her wine cup, but someone snatched it away. Looking up, she saw a burly middle-aged man take the cup and sit down across from her. Bai Hehuai’s entire body instantly tensed, her hand gripping three silver needles hidden in her sleeve.

“Don’t move rashly, or I’ll cut off your hand before you can even use those three needles,” the middle-aged man said in a deep voice after draining the cup.

Bai Hehuai knew he wasn’t bluffing. She’d encountered many assassins these past days, but only the Dark River’s Grand Elder and this man before her could exert such pressure before even making a move. The moment he sat down, Bai Hehuai felt as if a blade hung over her head, ready to fall at any moment.

Below in the tavern, Su Zhe had put away his Buddhist staff and sighed at the sword-wielding woman before him: “My daughter is about your age. You’re also my martial sister. I don’t want to kill you. Please leave.”

“Is Su Zhe of the Su family always this talkative?” Xie Huaqing panted heavily, blood flowing constantly from her wounds, yet she still held her blade without retreating.

“Do you truly seek death so earnestly?” Su Zhe frowned.

Xie Huaqing wiped the blood from her Tang blade: “Only in death’s domain can one find inspiration.”

“Foolish!” Su Zhe cursed under his breath. As he prepared to raise his Buddhist staff, he suddenly sensed the presence above in the tavern. He jerked his head up to see the middle-aged man looking down at him.

“Su Zhe,” the middle-aged man smiled.

“Xie Qidao,” Su Zhe said gravely.

The middle-aged man spread his hands toward Bai Hehuai: “I need to discuss something with Su Zhe. As a junior, pour me another cup of wine.”

Bai Hehuai shrugged, somewhat disgruntled as she picked up the wine pot, her pinky finger lightly touching the cup’s rim.

“Don’t poison it. Or I will kill you.” The middle-aged man glanced at Bai Hehuai.

Bai Hehuai laughed awkwardly. “How could I possibly?” She then obediently poured a cup of wine and handed it to him.

“The rest of the Xie family stops here. I’ll go forward, Su Zhe stays behind, and I won’t kill this young lady.” The middle-aged man spoke concisely, directly stating his conditions and purpose.

Su Zhe glanced at Xie Huaqing before him and raised an eyebrow: “Look at your Uncle Qidao, his actions are as sharp as his blade work.”

“Fighting you would be a waste of time, and winning wouldn’t be worth it.” The middle-aged man set down his cup, but the latter half of his words were directed at Bai Hehuai. “Pour another cup. I’ll only drink one more.”

“I’ll pour this one for you.” Su Zhe leaped from Qingping Street directly onto the tavern floor. He picked up the wine pot and respectfully poured a cup for Xie Qidao. “I never expected a free spirit like Brother Qidao to wade into these troubled waters. Once you enter this Jiuxiao City, it’s hard to leave.”

“A man in the jianghu is not master of his fate,” Xie Qidao drained the cup.

“And what of a man in the Dark River?” Su Zhe asked with a smile.

“A man in the Dark River shall never find salvation.” Xie Qidao leaped down to where the Xie family members stood. He looked at Xie Huaqing, “Well done. For a girl, that is.”

“And as a Xie family blade wielder?” Xie Huaqing asked stubbornly.

“Still too young.” Xie Qidao ignored them and walked ahead alone.

Bai Hehuai wiped the cold sweat from her forehead: “So that was Xie Qidao, the supreme blade master of the Xie family? Terrifying!”

Su Zhe nodded: “That’s him. You could say he let Xie Ba have the position of family head.”

Bai Hehuai thought for a moment: “Just now he said the rest of the Xie family stops here, he goes forward, Su Zhe stays behind, and spares my life?”

Su Zhe frowned, not understanding Bai Hehuai’s meaning: “That’s right, that’s what he said.”

Bai Hehuai stood up: “In your agreement, there was no rule saying I couldn’t leave.”