“Without using the Eighteen Sword Formation, you’re already defeated,” Su Muyu said lightly, not elaborating further about No Sword City.

Mu Bai was startled and then gave a cold laugh. With a gentle wave of his hand, his remaining puppet stepped forward, swinging its sword defensively before him. Several white figures descended in succession. Seeing their appearances, Su Muyu’s expression grew slightly grave—these were all top assassins of renown within the Mu family. As he pondered this, he felt a cold wind at the back of his head. Su Muyu quickly turned aside as a copper coin flew past his head toward Mu Bai and his group. Mu Bai waved his hand, and the puppet leaped forward, knocking the coin away with its sword.

Mu Qingyang landed in his Daoist robes, catching the coin and smiling. “Peach Blossom face—most auspicious.”

Mu Bai said gravely, “Qingyang, you’re late.”

“My apologies, my apologies. This killing formation couldn’t be seen by Xuewei. It took quite some effort to deceive her away.” Mu Qingyang pocketed the coin and turned to Su Muyu. “Lord Puppet, how have you been?”

“It’s you.” Su Muyu lightly twisted his sword hilt. Before becoming a Puppet, Su Changhe had told him about this fake Daoist from the Mu family, saying that while this Daoist appeared somewhat idle, his true strength was unfathomable.

Mu Qingyang raised his eyebrows slightly. “Me? So Lord Puppet knows of me? I’m most honored, most honored indeed.”

Su Muyu’s gaze swept over those before him. Besides Mu Bai and Mu Qingyang, there were seven Mu family assassins. If Su Muyu hadn’t been injured and still had his Eighteen Sword Formation, he would have had a thirty percent chance of fighting to the death. But now with only one sword in hand, even dealing with Mu Qingyang alone would be difficult… Su Muyu quickly made a decision: to lead these people away, creating an escape route for Bai Hehuai in the secret passage.

“Damn it, that brat Su Changhe ain’t worth nothin’!” A voice speaking an imperfect official dialect suddenly rang out from behind them.

Su Muyu started, then smiled. “Uncle Zhe has arrived.”

The Mu family members turned their attention toward the voice. Mu Bai’s previously triumphant expression suddenly turned unsightly.

Su Zhe of the Su family—a person no one wished to provoke.

“That brat goes to Spider’s Lair for show, makes me come here to guard someone. I found the person, and got nine Mu family ghosts to boot!” Su Zhe firmly planted his Buddhist staff in the ground, then pulled out a betel nut from his robes and threw it into his mouth, chewing forcefully as if venting his anger.

Mu Bai said coldly, “What does Uncle Zhe mean by this?”

“Did anyone ask you to speak?” Su Zhe took up the golden pipe at his waist and casually swung it, sending a golden ring flying from his Buddhist staff. The ring pierced straight through the last puppet’s chest, its momentum undiminished as it rapidly spun, shredding the invisible puppet strings to pieces before returning to Su Zhe’s hand. He carelessly waved it, reattaching the ring to his Buddhist staff.

The entire sequence flowed like water, carrying hints of disdain and arrogance.

“Let me smoke and think about something.” Su Zhe lit the tobacco in his pipe and began smoking leisurely.

Mu Bai’s expression grew even more unsightly. He clenched his fists but didn’t dare protest. Su Zhe was no longer a Puppet, and his appearance here likely wasn’t to save Su Muyu. If so, there was no need for conflict. Mu Qingyang continued playing with his peach blossom coin, supposedly passed down from Zhao Yuzhen of Mount Qingcheng, smiling as he watched Su Zhe without speaking.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

Ironically, the most natural-looking person now was Su Muyu, who usually appeared the most unnatural…

“Uncle Zhe, you still love creating an ‘I’m very powerful’ atmosphere,” Su Muyu said. Though knowing Su Zhe hadn’t come to save him, he still caught his breath and walked a few steps toward him.

“No need to create it—I am powerful,” Su Zhe said leisurely through clouds of smoke. If not for his truly painful command of the official dialect, he would have looked quite the master.

In the secret passage, Bai Hehuai listened to their conversation and guessed who had arrived. Her heart raced, and she instinctively wanted to rush out, but Su Muyu’s few steps forward had blocked her way. Though Su Muyu didn’t believe Bai Hehuai was Su Zhe’s daughter, he feared there might be some connection between them. If Bai Hehuai suddenly rushed out, the Mu family members wouldn’t wait another moment.

“What is Uncle Zhe thinking about?” Su Muyu asked slowly.

Su Zhe’s attitude toward Su Muyu was notably gentler. Not only did he not mind the interruption, but he answered patiently: “Thinking about how to complete the Su family patriarch’s task without killing you.”

“That seems rather difficult,” Su Muyu sighed lightly.

“Indeed, quite difficult. But you and I, we’re like mud-fallen friends!” Su Zhe tapped his pipe gently against his Buddhist staff, knocking off some ash.

“Bosom friends?” Su Muyu smiled faintly.

“Where’s that Divine Physician? I’ll kill her and leave. As a bonus, I’ll deal with these seven ghosts for you too.” Su Zhe looked at Su Muyu.

“If Su Muyu is willing to hand over the Divine Physician from Medicine King Valley, we can also leave,” Mu Bai suddenly spoke up.

“Who asked you to speak while I’m talking to my Su family brother?” Su Zhe’s brows furrowed as he flicked his pipe, sending another golden ring flying.

“Bring it on!” Mu Qingyang gripped his peach blossom coin and leaped forward to meet the golden ring. With a clear metallic clash, Mu Qingyang’s coin struck the ring. The impact sent Mu Qingyang stumbling back three steps, while the ring returned to the Buddhist staff, bringing with it a gust of force that made all the rings on the staff chime.

“Oh ho, among these seven Mu family ghosts, there’s one who can fight,” Su Zhe said, slightly surprised.

Mu Qingyang’s hand trembled as he gripped the coin: “Having heard Uncle Zhe’s great name for so long, even if I can’t fight, I must pretend I can.”

Su Zhe took a final puff of his pipe and looked at Su Muyu. “This is quite troublesome. What do you say?”

Su Muyu lowered his head slightly: “I’m willing to join Uncle Zhe in fighting off the enemy.”

“Oh?” Su Zhe’s mouth twisted slightly. “I don’t believe you.”

“Afterward, Uncle Zhe can take my life, and need not ask further about the Divine Physician. With my head, the Su family patriarch should no longer trouble Uncle Zhe.” Su Muyu’s tone was utterly sincere as if seriously considering this deal.

“You’re an assassin, not a hero,” Su Zhe said helplessly. “Changhe was right—if only your brain worked as well as your swordplay.”