The masked figure led Bai Hehuai out of the side room. Inside, the elderly man had taken the pill given by Bai Hehuai and fallen into a deep slumber. The two walked toward the main hall of the Daoist temple.

“My master was ninety when he found me. I was only five then,” Bai Hehuai said, pulling out a piece of osmanthus cake from her robes and eating as she walked. “He recognized that I had exceptional talent and could become a future Medicine King. Not wanting my senior fellow disciples to snatch me away, he took me as his last disciple. Unfortunately, he passed away just two years later. My senior fellow disciple taught me the rest of my medical skills, though, by hierarchy, I am indeed the junior uncle of the current Medicine King, Xin Baicao.”

“I see. But if that’s the case, why isn’t Miss staying in Medicine King Valley, and instead wandering here in Jiangnan?” the masked figure asked.

Bai Hehuai weighed the osmanthus cake in her hand. “I can tell you’ve never been to Medicine King Valley. It’s just three thatched cottages, two pigs, one horse, seven sheep, and a large vegetable patch. Is there anywhere more boring in the world?”

The masked figure asked, puzzled, “Is it really that desolate? I thought Medicine King Valley would be prosperous.”

“Master left an ancestral rule that when practicing medicine under the Medicine King Valley name, we couldn’t charge high fees, regardless of who the patient was. So Medicine King Valley is very poor. After my senior fellow disciple passed away and Xin Baicao took the Medicine King position, I left. After all, I’m the junior uncle—he can’t control me. I searched far and wide and chose Jiangnan because the people here are wealthy!” Bai Hehuai took another bite of her osmanthus cake. “And the osmanthus cakes are delicious too.”

“I see. That’s unexpected.” The masked figure shook his head slightly.

Bai Hehuai glanced at him. “You’re strange. I’ve told you so much, and all you say is ‘I see.’ Aren’t you curious how I figured out your identity?”

The masked figure adjusted his mask. “You’re acquainted with the Family Head, so naturally you’ve heard of us.”

“When I was young and reluctant to study medicine, I would pester my master for stories. For every story he told, I would study medicine for two hours. In his stories, there was often an organization called Dark River. They say it’s the world’s most formidable assassin organization, formed by three family clans—the Su, Xie, and Mu families. Each clan has a Family Head, and under them is a direct assassin group called Spider Shadow. The twelve strongest among them use the twelve zodiac animals as codenames: Rat, Ox, Tiger, Rabbit, Dragon, Snake, Horse, Goat, Monkey, Rooster, Dog, and Pig. The people I saw today wear masks of these animals, with the twelve earthly branches carved on their sword hilts—rather obvious, isn’t it? And you, wearing a red demon mask and attending the Family Head, must be the leader of Spider Shadow—Kui!”

The masked figure sighed softly. “I once asked the previous Kui why we, as assassins who should conceal our identities, wear our identities so openly on our faces.”

“What did he say?” Bai Hehuai asked.

The masked figure suddenly spoke with a slight lisp: “He said, ‘It’s about ceremony, you fool.'”

Bai Hehuai started. “You mean ‘It’s about ceremony, you fool’? Why did you suddenly develop a lisp?”

“It wasn’t my lisp—it was his,” the masked figure corrected.

Bai Hehuai suddenly remembered. “Could the person I met earlier be the previous Kui? Did he carry a Buddhist staff covered in golden rings? Did he smoke and chew betel nuts?”

They entered the main hall, and the masked figure looked outside, speaking softly, “So Uncle Zhe came too. Were there others?”

“There was a man with a small mustache…” Bai Hehuai noticed the change in the masked figure’s tone. “It seems Dark River isn’t as united as in my master’s stories. The Family Head is critically ill, yet the Su and Xie families tried to intercept me before you could. Do they want the Family Head to die?”

“Many things have changed over the years.” The masked figure lifted his head and called out, “Dragon!”

A person wearing a dragon mask dropped down from the eaves, kneeling on one knee. “Chief, Dragon here.”

“Take this divine physician and lead everyone north. Leave markers in Nine Heavens City, and I’ll find you,” the masked figure commanded.

Bai Hehuai frowned slightly. “You’re not coming? You’re staying to hold them off?”

“You’re right—they want the Family Head to die. But as long as I live, I won’t allow it.” The masked figure waved his hand, and Dragon vanished. Rustling sounds filled the temple as the hidden assassins began to move.

“Then I hope we meet again in Nine Heavens City, Lord Kui.” Bai Hehuai turned around.

“No need for ‘Lord Kui.’ Just call me Su Muyu,” the masked figure said softly.

“So you’re surnamed Su.” Bai Hehuai thought of the man with the Buddhist staff and his lisp, and the young man with the delicate mustache.

“Yes, like them, I’m a Su.”

At the foot of the mountain cliff, Su Zhe looked down at the medicine bottle on the ground, where a small blue-patterned snake coiled lazily, flicking its tongue.

Su Changhe smiled. “It seems they saw through your trick, Uncle Zhe. They discarded your medicine bottle just a li away.”

Su Zhe planted his Buddhist staff on the ground and bent down to collect both the bottle and the snake into his robes. The Hong Ning ointment he had given earlier did have healing properties, but he had added a unique herb that ordinary people couldn’t smell. His trained blue-patterned snake could track this scent from dozens of li away. However, he hadn’t expected the woman in red to see through his plan so quickly. He sighed, “Perhaps we were wrong.”

Su Changhe raised his eyebrows slightly. “Wrong about what?”

“Perhaps the one we let go… was a divine physician,” Su Zhe mumbled.

Su Changhe stroked his small mustache. “It’s fine. I made some preparations too.”

“Oh?” Su Zhe gripped his Buddhist staff.

“I had someone follow those two from the Xie family. If they get any news, my person will send word.” Su Changhe extended his hand, and a messenger pigeon landed on his palm. He removed the message tube from the pigeon’s leg, opened it, and said softly, “Pure Yang Changshou Palace.”

Su Zhe smiled. “You’re quite clever.”

Su Changhe shrugged. “I’m lazy, so I just have someone follow those industrious people. Though we might be a few steps behind, we’ll never be late. Let’s go, Uncle Zhe. The old master at home is probably getting impatient.”