Xie Qianji stepped back, gritting his teeth: “Cross the Dark River, and one reaches the other shore.”

Su Changhe smiled: “At the other shore, there is no longer darkness, but light should prevail.”

Xie Qianji said no more, picked up Xie Fanhua’s body and left without looking back. Su Changhe looked at Xie Fanhua’s head on the ground, its final expression full of surprise and unwillingness. He bent slightly, looking into those still-open eyes: “What a pity. The Xie family’s current generation has few interesting people—you barely qualified as one. If you hadn’t been in this death-sick state, I would have truly liked to have a proper fight with you.”

“You killed Xie Fanhua. Old Master Xie Ba won’t let you off,” a hoarse, deep voice suddenly sounded from nearby. Su Changhe started, spinning around with his dagger twirling into a defensive position.

A man in silver clothing sat on the nearby eaves—the same man Su Changhe had encountered on his way back to the inn that day.

“After this, who in Dark River can let anyone off?” Su Changhe sneered. “Perhaps of the so-called three families, only one will remain.”

The silver-clothed man shook his head: “Dark River has existed for hundreds of years. Do you think such internal bloodshed has only happened once? I’ve read the records in the archives—there’s been internal strife almost every three generations, yet Dark River’s structure has never changed. Dark River is an organization, but it’s also a miniature of this world. Some will triumph, some will compromise, and some… will be sacrificed.”

Su Changhe played with the small dagger between his fingers: “Are you suggesting I’ll be the one sacrificed?”

“Why did Su Jinhui give you command authority? Though your skills are decent, you’re ultimately a Nameless One—an outsider,” the silver-clothed man said softly.

“Is this where you try to recruit me? Mu Family, Family Head Mu Zizhi!” Su Changhe finally called out the other’s name. Years ago, both his and Su Muyu’s lives had nearly ended at this man’s hands.

Mu Zizhi turned his head, revealing a bloodless, pale face: “You dare speak my name.”

“The sword is drawn—why still hide its edge? You became the youngest family head in Mu’s family history. Don’t you want to become the youngest Grand Elder in Dark River’s history?” Su Changhe deliberately emphasized his words.

“You are… impressive. That’s why I say we should have killed you back then. Someone like you is a menace to everyone.” Mu Zizhi stood up, his sleeves floating gently. “You’re wrong. I’m not here to recruit you—I just want to kill you. From the first time I saw you, I wanted to kill you.”

Su Changhe licked his lips: “I thought I’d given Uncle Zhe the hard job while I made a simple appearance at the Spider’s Nest. Unexpectedly, I’m facing a family head instead. Poor planning indeed—I should have switched paths with Uncle Zhe.”

In the secret passage, Su Muyu and Bai Hehuai reached a library. It seemed this passage was also meant for refuge when needed—the library contained some dried food and clear water, along with dust-covered books whose titles had all been erased without exception. Su Muyu, who hadn’t closed his eyes all night and had been through fierce battles, drank some water after entering the library and said apologetically: “If we return to the Spider’s Nest from the exit, we’ll likely encounter people from the three families. Please allow me to rest here briefly, Divine Physician.”

Bai Hehuai naturally agreed, nodding: “Rest then. If you don’t have the strength to fight later, I’ll be the one in trouble.”

“Thank you, Divine Physician.” Su Muyu sat cross-legged and closed his eyes. Shortly after, soft snoring could be heard.

“That’s quite a quick way to fall asleep.” Bai Hehuai smiled, standing to examine the library. She took the ancient books from the shelves, leafing through them one by one. To her surprise, they weren’t martial arts manuals or Dark River secrets, but rather miscellaneous stories and historical novels. She casually flipped through several pages before being drawn to a short story in one volume. She wondered if these novels had been prepared specially for refugees to pass the time in this shelter? Was Dark River such a humanistic organization? Looking at the cross-legged, sleeping, wounded Su Muyu, Bai Hehuai shook her head—it certainly didn’t seem so.

However, that story was brilliantly written. Bai Hehuai, finally having some leisure time, sat down to read. The story is told of Northern Li’s founding when Emperor Xiao Yi was still leading armies. It was said he had a group of shadow assassins specifically responsible for assassinating enemy generals. One of them could completely conceal their presence in the night, appearing like a ghost to kill and dispersing like smoke afterward…

“How mysterious.” Bai Hehuai finished the story with great interest. There were countless legends about Northern Li’s Emperor Xiao Yi, but none had ever mentioned these shadow assassins. After all, battlefields tested military strategy and armies—the idea that a few assassins could change the course of war was purely fantastical. Bai Hehuai naturally didn’t believe the content, finding it merely interesting. But just as she finished one story and was about to start another, Su Muyu suddenly opened his eyes.

“Divine Physician, let’s move.” Su Muyu’s voice had lost some of its weariness.

Bai Hehuai started: “This… you’ve barely slept! Are all Dark River people so careless with their lives?”

Su Muyu stood up: “In Dark River’s Mu family, there was once an elder named Mu Chaoyang who created a set of sleep-related martial arts called the Sleep Breath Method. We sleep only two hours daily, choosing moments to sleep for quarter or half hours at other times to restore energy.”

Bai Hehuai blinked: “As a medical practitioner, I must say—this defies medical science. No matter how powerful your Mu elder claimed this Sleep Breath Method to be, it still defies medical science.”

“Perhaps so, but for us in Dark River, this Sleep Breath Method is very effective. After all, we’re always racing against time.” Su Muyu sighed lightly, then moved forward. “I apologize for troubling the Divine Physician.”

Seeing Su Muyu walk ahead, Bai Hehuai looked at the novel in her hands, hesitated, then blew off the dust and tucked it into her robes. It was just a miscellaneous book, worth nothing—no harm in taking it…

Su Muyu hadn’t seen Bai Hehuai’s actions, nor had he paid any attention to the titleless books on the shelves. With restored energy, he walked quickly forward, knowing that with every quarter hour’s delay, the chance of the Grand Elder dying from poison increased.