At the Mu family compound.
Mu Zizhe fingered the jade ring on his hand, remaining silent for a long while before suddenly raising his head.
A long Mo Blade flew in first, embedding itself in the ground before Mu Zizhe. The Mu family members immediately moved forward, surrounding him. Mu Zizhe smiled slightly: “No need for alarm.”
The red figure arrived next, flipping through the air to land before everyone, planting the Sleeping Dragon Sword into the ground.
“I’ve brought what you wanted,” Mu Ciling said, still gripping the sword’s hilt as he looked up at Mu Zizhe.
“This is Flower Mirror Water.” Mu Zizhe tossed a white porcelain bottle to Mu Ciling. “Drink it and circulate your qi for three days, and the Heart-Piercing Gu within you will be gone.”
Mu Ciling’s eyes lit up as he looked at the bottle, then released his grip on the Sleeping Dragon Sword. “From now on, I have no connection to the Mu family.”
“The Soul-Summoning Hall will issue a death warrant, hunting you to the ends of the earth. This is inevitable,” Mu Zizhe said gravely.
“Let them come! If they can kill me, let them try.” Mu Ciling pulled his Mo Blade from the ground. “Well then, Master Mu—no, I should say Patriarch now. Ciling takes his leave!” With that, he leaped away.
Mu Zizhe stood and walked to the Sleeping Dragon Sword, placing his hand lightly on its hilt.
The entire courtyard held its breath, waiting for the moment.
Mu Zizhe took a deep breath, then drew the Sleeping Dragon Sword and raised it high: “Go tell the Su and Xie families that the Sleeping Dragon Sword belongs to the Mu family now. Return to the sect immediately!”
“Yes!” The Mu family disciples shouted in unison. Several disciples standing at the outer edge immediately rushed to the doors, but moments later, their bodies fell back in—cut cleanly in half.
“Not one person will leave here alive.” Xie Qidao stood with his blade horizontal, shouting loudly.
Mu Zizhe narrowed his eyes: “Xie Qidao, so you’ve come too.”
“You all seem to think I shouldn’t be here, that I’m just a warrior who knows nothing but blade practice. Yet here I am,” Xie Qidao said deeply.
“The Sleeping Dragon Sword is in my hands now. I am the Dark River’s Patriarch,” Mu Zizhe pointed the sword at Xie Qidao.
“Laughable. Holding the Sleeping Dragon Sword isn’t enough. You need to live long enough to bring it back to the sect, present it before the Three Officials of the Soul-Summoning Hall, and wait for them to acknowledge your position. Only then will you be the Dark River’s Patriarch,” Xie Qidao raised his head. “But you won’t leave Nine Heavens City. You won’t even leave this courtyard.”
“You alone can stop me?” Mu Zizhe sneered.
Xie Qidao suddenly lowered his blade and turned his head: “You’ve come.”
A figure as imposing as Xie Qidao appeared beside him, emanating an even fiercer killing intent—it was the Xie family head, Xie Ba.
Xie Ba patted Xie Qidao’s shoulder: “I’m glad you came. This position should have been yours to begin with. After I take the Sleeping Dragon Sword today, you will be the Xie family head!”
Mu Zizhe looked at Xie Ba and the group of blade-wielders that appeared with him, letting out a cold laugh: “Xie Ba, are you planning for mutual destruction with our Mu family?”
“The Xie family has fifty-six long blades, seeking one sword,” Xie Ba waved his hand. “I wonder if the Mu family head is willing to give it?”
On the other side of Nine Heavens City, Su Muyu was returning to Spider’s Nest with Bai Hehuai when he suddenly stopped halfway.
“What’s wrong?” Bai Hehuai asked.
Su Muyu frowned: “I’m lost.”
“Lost?” Bai Hehuai was puzzled. “How can you get lost in Nine Heavens City? It’s not that big.”
“No, the rain seems to be getting heavier,” Su Muyu looked up.
Bai Hehuai grew more confused: “Su Muyu, what are you talking about?”
“‘Face like a calm lake but heart carries thunder’—that was the Patriarch’s assessment of you. I find no fault with it.” A white-haired man in official robes suddenly appeared before them.
Bai Hehuai was startled: “A ghost!”
Su Muyu gripped his Fine Rain Sword, moving in front of Bai Hehuai: “This person is extraordinary.”
The white-haired man grinned: “Your insight and swordsmanship are both praiseworthy. No wonder the Patriarch values you so. Yet you seem to have little desire for power.”
Su Muyu struggled to steady his breathing: “Who are you?”
“It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call you the Su family’s greatest talent in a century. That’s why the Su family was willing to break rules for you. You set three conditions for accepting missions—you wouldn’t accept missions involving massacres, missions without clear reasons, or missions you didn’t want to take. The Su family agreed, but the Soul-Summoning Hall never did,” the white-haired man said slowly.
Su Muyu suddenly understood: “You’re from the Soul-Summoning Hall.”
“I am the Water Official.” The white-haired man caught some raindrops in his hand. “This is our first true meeting.”
Su Muyu’s steps became unsteady, his vision blurring. He shook his head forcefully and said softly: “The rain is poisoned!”
“I noticed,” Bai Hehuai pressed her palm against Su Muyu’s back, white mist dispersing from her hand. Su Muyu’s consciousness gradually cleared, and he said quietly: “Thank you.”
“Oh?” The Water Official looked at Bai Hehuai curiously. “I didn’t expect you to have such a skilled poison expert here.”
Su Muyu looked at the Water Official: “Why has the Water Official come?”
The Water Official sighed lightly, his tone somewhat playful: “The Dark River’s three families are killing each other, nearly destroying themselves. How could we Three Officials remain seated in the Soul-Summoning Hall?”
Su Muyu gripped his Fine Rain Sword tightly: “The Three Officials seem to understand the situation here well. May I ask whose side you’re on?”
“The Patriarch is old. It’s time for him to step down,” the Water Official said mysteriously.
Su Muyu started, responding: “The Patriarch chose the Su family head, Su Jinhui.”
“Su Jinhui lost to Mu Ciling. His sword’s edge is broken. He should step down too,” the Water Official shook his head.
A killing intent flashed in Su Muyu’s eyes: “So the Three Officials have chosen someone from either the Mu or Xie family?”
“Xie Ba’s mind is too simple, Mu Zizhe’s too clever. Neither is suitable,” the Water Official continued shaking his head.
“But the Mu family has the Sleeping Dragon Sword now. Whoever holds it, with the Three Officials’ acknowledgment, can succeed as Patriarch,” Su Muyu probed.
“Unfortunately, the Sleeping Dragon Sword is in my hands. I’m afraid Mu Zizhe will be disappointed.” The Water Official waved his hand lightly, and a long sword appeared in his grip.
Bai Hehuai exclaimed: “Wasn’t the Sleeping Dragon Sword taken by Mu Ciling?”
Su Muyu’s expression remained calm, merely nodding slightly: “As I thought. When I arrived, the Sleeping Dragon Sword had already been switched.”