In a simple but tidy room, a small wooden table held three bowls of rice alongside one meat dish, one vegetable dish, and a soup.

Su Changhe thought of the roomful of gold and silver treasures at the Yellow Springs Pawnshop, looked around, and sighed: “When I return, I’ll send some silver here…”

“What do we need silver for?” Xiao Chaoyan set down three pairs of chopsticks.

“Dark River earns so much silver in a year, yet this so-called Home Garden is just a poor village. The old master was too stingy,” Su Changhe replied.

“We have meat with every meal and wine whenever we want—you call this poor? You haven’t seen real poverty. In the village seventeen li from here, white rice is only for New Year’s celebrations,” Xiao Chaoyan picked up her bowl. “Eat if you want to eat, if not, go to Sister Wang’s.”

Su Muyu smiled, picked up a chicken leg, and dropped it in Su Changhe’s bowl: “Before entering Ghost Wail Abyss, when was the last time we could eat a chicken leg?”

“But we’re rich now, aren’t we? One brick from that wall of gold would transform this entire village,” Su Changhe declared.

“Ignore him, those who suddenly come into money after being poor are all like this,” Su Muyu placed another chicken leg in Xiao Chaoyan’s bowl.

“Hey, hey, what do you mean ‘suddenly’? Have you forgotten about all that silver buried under Qiantang City?” Su Changhe protested.

“We’re doing fine here, we don’t need your silver,” Xiao Chaoyan remained unmoved, calmly eating her rice. “Do you know who lives here?”

“Of course, I know—people connected to Dark River who want to stay out of jianghu conflicts,” Su Changhe replied.

Just then, there came a knock at the door.

Three measured “dong, dong, dong” sounds.

Su Changhe’s sleeve flickered, and a dagger appeared in his palm.

“Don’t worry, it’s safe here,” Xiao Chaoyan waved at Su Changhe, then walked to open the door.

Su Muyu and Su Changhe exchanged glances, each seeing the wariness in the other’s eyes.

“Oh, it’s Uncle Xiemo,” Xiao Chaoyan called out. “Come in, sit down. I’ll get you some chopsticks.”

“No need, I’ve already eaten,” A tall middle-aged man entered. He had a long scar on his left cheek, but one could tell he must have been a handsome youth.

“Then let me pour you some tea, Uncle,” Xiao Chaoyan hurried to make tea.

Su Muyu and Su Changhe both stood, clasping their hands in greeting the middle-aged man.

The middle-aged man nodded slightly: “Chaoyan has guests?”

“Su Changhe,” Su Changhe grinned.

“Su Muyu,” Su Muyu tilted his head slightly.

The middle-aged man nodded thoughtfully: “From the Su family, eh?”

“May I ask your honored surname?” Su Changhe inquired.

“I share your surname, but when I left home, I hadn’t heard of either of you, though you should have been born by then,” Su Xiemo said quietly.

“But we’ve heard of you—Seven Swords Pursuing Stars Su Xiemo, once codenamed Soul-Hunting Ghost because you would chase three thousand li to kill a target,” Su Changhe replied. “We heard you died in the desert north of Ink River, yet here you are in Home Garden.”

“I survived, but I lost my qualification as an assassin. The Leader took pity on me and settled me in Home Garden to protect its safety,” Su Xiemo accepted the teacup from Xiao Chaoyan. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

“We were Nameless Ones,” Su Changhe raised an eyebrow. “But now, I am Dark River’s Leader, and beside me is the current head of the Su family.”

“Oh?” Su Xiemo’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his expression changing subtly. “Then you should drink this tea.”

“I would be honored,” Su Changhe reached for the teacup.

Both men’s movements froze for an instant, the tea water swaying gently before suddenly releasing steam.

Xiao Chaoyan asked puzzled: “In such hot weather, I poured cooled tea… or did I make a mistake?”

“How can cooled tea have any flavor?” Su Changhe took the cup completely, raised it, and took a sip. “The tea leaves are ordinary, but the spring water used to brew it is exceptional.”

“Impressive skills, worthy of the Leader,” Su Xiemo praised.

“Let me pour you another cup, Uncle,” Xiao Chaoyan went to pour more tea.

“Since you’re here, it means the old master is dead. And now Dark River is led by you Nameless Ones, so major events must have occurred,” Su Xiemo sighed lightly. “So why have you come?”

“Rest assured. We have no ulterior motives in coming here. Xiao Chaoyan is my sister, and her presence here was arranged by the previous Leader at my request,” Su Muyu replied.

“I see,” Su Xiemo accepted the tea Xiao Chaoyan offered, and drank it in one gulp. “Then I won’t disturb you further.” He set down the cup and walked out.

Su Changhe also set down his cup: “An interesting man. Barely surprised to hear our identities, then just wanting to stay far away.”

“The people here fear getting involved with Dark River again. There are many retired people like Uncle Xiemo. If brought back into Dark River, they’d be a formidable force. So when Uncle Xiemo heard your identities and confirmed you weren’t here for them, he fled immediately. If you were here for them, there would have been trouble,” Xiao Chaoyan picked up her chopsticks again. “Come, let’s continue eating.”

“Didn’t you say there’s wine with every meal?” Su Changhe asked. “Where’s the wine?”

“Home-brewed strong liquor, very potent. Dare you drink it?” Xiao Chaoyan smiled proudly.

“A thousand cups won’t make me drunk,” Su Changhe slapped the table.

A quarter-hour later.

Su Changhe lay snoring thunderously on the eaves, nearly shaking the roof off.

Su Muyu and Xiao Chaoyan sat cooling off in chairs under the eaves. Xiao Chaoyan laughed disdainfully: “What happened to a thousand cups won’t make me drunk’? One bowl of strong liquor and he’s out.”

“Changhe has a strange ability—when he wants to get drunk, one cup is enough; when he wants to stay sober, you could bring all the wine in this village and he’d still be clear-headed after a thousand cups.”

“Then why did he choose to get drunk with one cup tonight?” Xiao Chaoyan asked.

“Because in the Hall of Ten Thousand Scrolls in Tianqi City, I found the secrets of those years,” Su Muyu said gravely. “The destruction of Wujian City was orchestrated by someone behind the scenes.”

“Who was it?” Xiao Chaoyan trembled and stood up immediately.