Su Changhe slowly climbed the creaking wooden stairs to the second floor. The largest room upstairs had its door open, pitch black inside with no visible details.

“Always making things so eerily dramatic,” Su Changhe shrugged. As he entered the room, two swords instantly pressed against his neck.

“Su Changhe.” A voice called out with a cold laugh.

“Hey, hey, hey, we’re all family here. Is this really how you greet someone after a long separation?” Su Changhe protested.

“Bring him in,” an authoritative voice commanded from the inner chamber.

The two swords guided Su Changhe past a folding screen into the inner chamber, where two oil lamps were finally lit. A stern-faced middle-aged man in black clothes sat on a long chair, trimming his nails with a small dagger. Behind him stood more than ten robust men, each wearing swords at their waists and bearing fierce expressions.

“Old Master.” Though the nail-trimming man appeared barely over forty, Su Changhe addressed him as Old Master. In Dark River, only Su Jinhui, the patriarch of the Su family, warranted such an address from Su Changhe.

Su Jinhui set down his dagger and looked at the immobilized Su Changhe, smiling: “You still remember your Old Master?”

Su Changhe smiled with utmost sincerity: “Even if I were burned to ashes, I’d remember Old Master.”

“Release him. He’s currently our Su family’s best sword. If you keep holding blades to his neck, I fear your throats might soon meet his dagger,” Su Jinhui waved his hand.

“By the Patriarch’s command.” The two swords finally moved away from Su Changhe’s neck. Given space, he stretched, his bones crackling loudly.

“Sit beside me.” Su Jinhui patted the space next to him, then pulled out a pipe from his robes and lit it with the oil lamp.

Su Changhe casually picked up a fruit from the table and sat down beside Su Jinhui without ceremony: “Old Master, why did you come personally? Is it really alright for you to be in Jiuxiao City?”

“I’m here because of you. The Great Elder shouldn’t have entered Jiuxiao City, and even after entering, shouldn’t have gone there. Once spiders return to their nest, it becomes nearly impossible to find them,” Su Jinhui took a puff of his pipe, his tone carrying a hint of reproach.

“Changhe was incompetent.” Su Changhe shook his head. “I thought I could stop Spider Shadow, but there were some unexpected developments.”

“Before you left, I gave you my command token, allowing you to mobilize all of the Su family’s elite assassins. But you seem to have squandered this authority—even Su Zhe was dispatched by me on your behalf,” Su Jinhui said mysteriously.

“Your subordinate didn’t want to create direct conflict between the Su family and Spider Shadow, which would harm Old Master’s reputation and needlessly sacrifice our elite forces. Please trust me—within ten days, I will obtain the Sleeping Dragon Sword for you!” Su Changhe said gravely.

“Fool!” Su Jinhui struck the table heavily with his pipe.

With a “swoosh,” one of the assassins behind Su Jinhui drew his sword.

“Old Master, let’s discuss this calmly…” Su Changhe took a bite of his fruit, maintaining his playful demeanor.

“Why draw your sword! Did I say to kill anyone?” Su Jinhui shouted angrily.

“Patriarch might not believe this, but the sword drew itself,” Su Changhe turned around, waving his hand to force the man’s sword back into its scabbard.

“You!” Su Jinhui looked at Su Changhe, shaking his head repeatedly. “You’ve never disappointed me before. I hope this time, you won’t let me down!”

“How could I ever disappoint you, Old Master?” Su Changhe smiled.

“Where did you go tonight? I asked Su Zhe, but he said he was asleep and knew nothing,” Su Jinhui asked.

“I went to scout the path to the Spider Nest,” Su Changhe replied.

“Alone? The Su family has so many people lying in wait in Jiuxiao City—why didn’t you use them? Don’t you trust them?” Su Jinhui took another puff before continuing, “Or are you afraid they’ll see through you?”

“How could Old Master say such things?” Su Changhe smiled. “It was just reconnaissance, not killing. The time hasn’t come yet.”

Su Jinhui fell silent, slowly smoking his pipe. Su Changhe also stopped talking, finishing one fruit before taking another. After what seemed like a long time, Su Jinhui finally finished his pipe, emptied the ashes, and put it away. He said deeply: “I know what you’re thinking.”

“Please enlighten me, Old Master!” Su Changhe raised his eyebrows.

Su Jinhui looked into Su Changhe’s eyes: “You want to save Su Muyu’s life.”

Su Changhe’s lips twitched slightly before he smiled: “Of course.”

“I promised you that if you obtain the Sleeping Dragon Sword, Su Muyu need not die—I’d even allow him to leave Dark River.” Su Jinhui stood up. “But I knew from the beginning that Su Muyu wouldn’t accept your terms. I know what kind of person he is, but I believe you know even better.”

Su Changhe smiled bitterly: “Then why did Old Master still give me this task?”

“Though you’re not exactly proper, looking at the entire Su family, only you could accomplish this. I’ll give you more time—complete this task, and do it beautifully. Don’t disappoint my expectations.” Su Jinhui turned and walked toward the door, his robust men immediately following.

“Respectfully seeing Old Master off.” Su Changhe bowed.

After the group left the inn, one Su family disciple approached and whispered: “Old Master, should such a task be given to Su Changhe? He’s a nameless one by birth, not truly of the Su family.”

Su Jinhui sneered: “I chose him firstly because he is indeed the strongest sword among this generation of Su family disciples, and secondly because he doesn’t want Su Muyu to die. The Great Elder has been poisoned by Snow-Fallen Plum—no amount of delay will change the outcome. Only if we Su family win does Su Muyu have a chance to survive.”

“But if he succeeds…” the man hesitated.

“I know what you’re thinking. You fear the position of patriarch might be given to a nameless one.” Su Jinhui stopped and looked at the man.

The man lowered his head, cold sweat running down his back.

“The day we performed the naming ceremony, the nameless one became our family. But in Dark River, has there ever truly been such a thing as a family?” Su Jinhui said meaningfully.

In the inn, Su Changhe shook his soaked clothes, smiling bitterly: “Sat for a quarter hour, got me a bath.”

Su Zhe lay nearby, yawning: “Late at night, and still no peace.”

“Uncle Zhe, you’ve been in the family for so many years, yet I’ve never figured out where you stand,” Su Changhe suddenly said.

Su Zhe sneezed: “Collecting money and maintaining temples—what kind of stance would I need?”