About a century ago, conflict erupted once again between the Li Sect and the Six Northern Clans. For reasons unknown, this particular clash was exceptionally fierce, with both sides engaged in brutal combat for five to six years.
(Mu Qingyan interrupts: “Granny Ajiang, there’s no need to start from so long ago. You can begin with events from twenty years ago.”
Cai Zhao: “Oh, don’t interrupt! I want to hear this. Granny Ajiang, what sparked that conflict?”
Mu Qingyan: “Can’t you do the math? A hundred years ago, Sect Leader Mu Song suddenly died, and his children and sons-in-law fought for succession. They probably suspected the Northern Clans had a hand in Mu Song’s death.”
Cai Zhao: “Come on, you think I couldn’t guess that? Due to sect rules, they couldn’t openly kill each other, so they targeted the Six Northern Clans to assert dominance and compete for the sect leader position, right? Hmph.”
Granny Ajiang: “Should I go fetch some water while you two chat?”
Cai Zhao: “No, Granny Ajiang, please continue.”)
Our village had long specialized in silk cultivation and hemp weaving, traditionally staying out of jianghu disputes. We only interacted with the Li Sect when they came to collect our silk and hemp each year in a fair trade. However, during that tumultuous period, as both sides became increasingly ruthless, smaller factions under the Six Northern Clans began to take out their frustrations on us. They bullied and enslaved our people, making life unbearable. We had no choice but to flee into this dense forest.
(Mu Qingyan: “Hmph.”
Cai Zhao: “What does that ‘hmph’ mean?”
Mu Qingyan: “It means exactly what it sounds like.”
Granny Ajiang: “Maybe I should go get that water after all.”
Mu Qingyan: “Granny Ajiang, please ignore her interruptions and continue.”)
Our pursuers, relentless as hunting dogs, chased us deep into the forest until we reached this swamp. Though treacherous, it seemed safer than facing our tormentors outside. Our ancestors initially planned to hide here temporarily, hoping to return once the danger passed. Little did they know we’d soon discover we couldn’t leave.
Sadly, we learned that the native vines in this blood swamp secrete an oddly addictive fluid. Everything the vines touched – wild vegetables, mushrooms, even the spring water, and air – became contaminated. After just two or three years, our ancestors realized they could no longer adapt to the outside world. We became dependent on the water, air, and produce from this place. Without them, our bodies would suffer as if gnawed by insects.
Our ancestors tried to send newborns away, but even they had been affected in the womb and couldn’t survive outside the swamp. Yet this was no place for long-term habitation. The dampness, miasma, and venomous creatures took their toll. Children grew up weak and hunched, while adults had shortened lifespans. We were caught between life and death, praying for divine intervention to rescue us.
Finally, fifty years ago, our village’s great benefactor arrived. I was eight years old then. The elders called her an immortal, but she insisted she was mortal, named Cai Anning from Luoying Valley.
(Cai Zhao: “Ah!”
Mu Qingyan smirks: “Hmm, another connection. Interesting.”)
Our benefactor came to the forest to gather herbs. She was barely twenty, frail and sickly. She explained that she suffered from a congenital deficiency that resisted all treatments, so she searched remote places for a cure. Upon discovering our plight, she quickly left. We thought she was just another person fleeing to avoid addiction.
Surprisingly, she returned two years later with a unique orchid that only bloomed at night. She transplanted it into the blood swamp, waited for new shoots to emerge, and then grafted it with other strange plants. The result was a hybrid orchid with blood-red petals, stamens, and even leaves.
(Cai Zhao: “Are those the small red orchids we saw in the outer swamp? But I noticed they bloom during the day too.”
Granny Ajiang: “Those are modified offspring. The original plant our benefactor brought only blooms at night.”
Mu Qingyan remains silent, deep in thought.)
Our benefactor instructed us to plant these blood-red orchids throughout the swamp, especially near the vine roots. She explained that while this would make the vines highly toxic, it would stop them from secreting the addictive fluid. Although the adults in the village might not recover, newborns would be born normally.
The Great Benefactor lived in the swamp for five years. She taught us how to avoid poisonous vines and plants, and how to cultivate crops in clean soil. She even sent away some of the infants born in later years, asking her trusted old servants to find homes outside to raise them. Indeed, those babies thrived in the outside world.
As time passed, the Great Benefactor’s health deteriorated. She longed to return home and see her aging parents. However, she could no longer go back. Previously, the swamp’s vines were addictive but not lethal. Those who came to gather herbs or accidentally entered could at least escape unharmed. Yet, due to the Great Benefactor’s alterations, anyone who entered the Blood Swamp would die a horrible death from severe poisoning upon leaving.
Their families and friends complained to Guangtianmen, who, along with other sects, sent many disciples to investigate the Blood Swamp. This led to more deaths and escalated the situation. Realizing she could never return, the Great Benefactor didn’t want to further implicate Luoying Valley. She taught us to set up formations, seal off the Blood Swamp, and spread terrifying rumors to keep outsiders away. The Six Northern Sects eventually ceased their investigation.
Soon after, the Great Benefactor passed away. Those of us whose parents died early were raised by her. I wept bitterly at her deathbed, wishing she had never come here to suffer such infamy and injustice. Yet, she said she had no regrets.
From birth, she was told she wouldn’t live past three, then not to adulthood. Each year, various doctors hinted that her parents should prepare for her death. She struggled through endless bitter medicines and pitying glances, searching for rare cures to extend her life. But for what purpose? Only to worry her parents longer?
She never imagined that in her meager, fragile life, she could save so many people. She felt it was worth it. Fifty years have passed since then. Hundreds of children grew up and left the swamp, establishing families and businesses outside. Now, they bask in the sunlight daily, strong and tall like trees. We are the last remnants of the Blood Swamp.
Silence filled the air as memories lingered. The three people in the room remained quiet for a long time.
Mu Qingyan spoke up, “Can we talk about what happened twenty years ago now?”
Cai Zhao glared at him, annoyed that he had broken the atmosphere. Grandma Ajiang chuckled, “Alright, alright. So you two aren’t siblings? We all thought Miss Xiao Shu would marry Young Master Yang. But it’s fine that she didn’t.”
Cai Zhao felt embarrassed, realizing that all elderly aunties seemed to enjoy matchmaking young people. She quickly changed the subject, “Grandma, please tell us about my aunt.”
Grandma Ajiang continued, “About twenty years ago, a young couple suddenly entered our village. We were startled, thinking our protective formations had failed. They came inquiring about the night orchid mother plant, saying Young Master Yang’s friend was ill and needed it for medicine. We agreed, of course, and they took a few cuttings before leaving.”
“Is that all?” Cai Zhao asked.
“Yes, that’s all. Miss Xiao Shu is our Great Benefactor’s descendant. We’d give our lives for her, let alone a few night orchid cuttings.”
Cai Zhao was speechless. Mu Qingyan asked, “Grandma Ajiang, can we see the night orchid mother plant?”
Grandma Ajiang happily agreed and led the way. The night orchid mother plant grew in the courtyard behind the house, surrounded by white stones. After fifty years of nourishment in the secluded forest, its stem had grown thick and strong, its leaves lush and green, with pristine white buds ready to bloom.
Grandma Ajiang sighed, “At midnight, these buds will fully open. It’s a beautiful sight. Take a good look, for tomorrow it will be burned.”
Mu and Cai were surprised. Cai Zhao quickly asked why.
“It’s Miss Xiao Shu’s orders,” Grandma Ajiang explained. “She returned a year after leaving with Young Master Yang. She asked if he had come back, and I told her he had taken more cuttings. I even asked if his friend was still ill.”
“Then Miss Xiao Shu cried. She cried so hard we couldn’t console her. Before leaving, she solemnly instructed us to burn the night orchid immediately if anyone else came asking about it, no matter who they were, even if they were from Luoying Valley.”
Cai Zhao was puzzled, “Why did Young Master Yang come a second time? Couldn’t he have taken more cuttings the first time?”
Grandma Ajiang explained, “Miss Zhao doesn’t know, but the night orchid is very delicate. Cuttings only last half a year, even if stored in crystal boxes or potted. After that, they dry up like kindling, losing all medicinal properties.”
“What if you transplant the entire plant?”
“Unless you’re as skilled in cultivation as our Great Benefactor… Even she only managed to keep one of the dozen night orchids she brought alive.”
Mu and Cai exchanged glances, understanding dawning. Mu Zhengyang’s first visit was to secretly obtain the night orchid for Chen Shu, attempting to lure Nie Hengcheng into practicing the Purple Micro Heart Sutra. The second visit was likely for himself.
When Cai Pingsu found out, she deduced the truth and wept.
Mu Qingyan pondered, “Your aunt was right. It’s best to burn it and eliminate future troubles.” He added, “Why not burn it now?”
Grandma Ajiang replied, “Burning the night orchid while it’s blooming releases toxic fumes. It can only be done during the day. Miss Xiao Shu wanted to burn it on her second visit, but we couldn’t bear to, as it was the Great Benefactor’s last legacy.”
Cai Zhao felt conflicted. They had risked so much to enter the Blood Swamp, seemingly learning a lot, yet also nothing at all. “Is there anything else? What else did my aunt and Young Master Yang say?”
Grandma Ajiang’s eyes twinkled mischievously, “Do you want to hear? Are you sure you want to know what young lovers say to each other?”
“Not that kind of talk,” Cai Zhao blushed. “I mean, was there anything unusual?”
Grandma Ajiang thought hard but couldn’t recall anything. It was Old Man Alin, who came to call them for dinner, who reminded her, “Sister, didn’t you forget about Miss Xiao Shu and Young Master Yang arguing by the spring?”
“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Grandma Ajiang exclaimed. “Miss Xiao Shu and Young Master Yang were always affectionate, but that night, after watching the night orchids bloom, they suddenly started arguing while walking by the spring.”
Mu Qingyan’s expression grew serious, “What were they arguing about?”
Grandma Ajiang explained, “My brother and I were fetching water nearby and overheard bits. It seemed Young Master Yang planned to kill someone, which Miss Xiao Shu discovered. She asked why, and they kept mentioning someone’s name that sounded like ‘Nie Zhe’.”
“Nie Zhe?!” Cai Zhao exclaimed, her mind racing.
Mu Qingyan pressed, “What happened next?”
“Young Master Yang tried to explain, but Miss Xiao Shu raised her voice, saying, ‘If he hasn’t done anything wrong yet, he shouldn’t be killed without reason.’ Later, Young Master Yang seemed to yield, and they went to rest.”
Cai Zhao turned to Mu Qingyan, confused, “He wanted to kill Nie Zhe? Why?”
Mu Qingyan lowered his eyes, saying softly, “He hated Nie Hengcheng intensely. Perhaps he wanted to kill his nephew out of spite.”
Cai Zhao shook her head, “No wonder my aunt disagreed. She never killed an innocent person in her life.”
Mu Qingyan’s eyes narrowed, “Yan Xu said that while Nie Hengcheng was alive, Nie Zhe acted well-behaved, even being polite to servants. But if your aunt hadn’t stopped Mu Zhengyang from killing Nie Zhe, perhaps Sun Ruoshui wouldn’t have had anyone to have an affair with, and my father might still be alive.”
Cai Zhao was shocked, unable to refute.
Mu Qingyan smiled slightly, “I’m being biased. Sun Ruoshui was ambitious. Even if my father had just disappeared, with his fate unknown, she would have found another powerful backer. Besides, someone else was behind her poisoning my father.”
Despite his words, Cai Zhao felt uneasy, unable to stop thinking about the alternative possibilities.
The evening meal consisted of mixed grain rolls, grilled fish, salt-cured chicken, and a large bowl of wild vegetable and mushroom soup. You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan, having not eaten hot food for days, found the hot soup so delicious they nearly swallowed their tongues.
Song Yuzhi, preoccupied with thoughts, barely ate two bites before retiring to rest. Cai Zhao coughed lightly, “I’m full too. Please enjoy your meal…” She started to move in the direction Song Yuzhi had gone.
A loud crack of splintering wood rang out. Mu Qingyan’s left hand remained motionless on the table, yet a long crack had formed under his jade-like fingers on the thick wooden table. You Guanyue and Shangguan Haonan quickly lifted the broken tabletop to prevent the dishes from falling.
Fan Xingjia shuddered, inexplicably feeling a chill enter the room.
Cai Zhao slowly sat down, “Actually, I’m not full yet. Let Third Senior Brother rest first.”
Mu Qingyan took out a snow-white silk handkerchief and carefully wiped his long fingers. “Miss Cai, don’t mind others. If you have something to say to Third Young Master Song, go ahead.”
“No, no, there’s nothing to say,” Cai Zhao laughed nervously. Mu Qingyan stared at the girl for a moment, his eyes dark and deep as the sea, making Cai Zhao uncomfortable. The other three at the table didn’t dare breathe, two holding the table, one clutching a bowl, all wishing they could disappear into the ground.
After a moment, Mu Qingyan laughed coldly and left, leaving a parting remark, “You can’t stop her anyway, Miss Cai. Do as you please.”
With the intimidating presence gone, the room finally calmed. Cai Zhao laughed awkwardly, ultimately too afraid to seek out Song Yuzhi in Mu Qingyan’s presence, and sheepishly returned to her room.
Fan Xingjia sighed deeply, “Your sect leader is getting creepier. He scared me to death.”
You Guanyue glared at him, “What do you know? Our sect leader is divinely talented and unfathomable.”
Fan Xingjia couldn’t help but add, “Actually, my junior sister is very smart too, just differently from your sect leader. My master says she has great wisdom that appears foolish. When facing situations, your sect leader can anticipate others’ moves, while my junior sister understands things afterward. My master says you might fool her once, but not forever.”
What he didn’t say was that Mu Qingyan’s intelligence was aggressive and controlling, always plotting and scheming. Meeting such a person, you’d be lucky not to be sold out and still help them count the money. Cai Zhao’s intelligence was defensive; she was indifferent unless something directly involved her, at which point she became extremely perceptive and sensitive.
“Our words don’t matter. I think they’ll be entangled for a while,” Shangguan Haonan concluded.
Fan Xingjia was surprised, “Why do you say that? I thought their matter was settled.”
Shangguan Haonan said smugly, “Don’t be naive. Did their behavior just now look ‘settled’ to you?” He frowned, “Hey, Moon, we need to find some iron nails. We can’t keep holding this table up.”
You Guanyue retorted, “Didn’t you notice all the buildings and furniture here use mortise and tenon joints or vine bindings? There are no iron nails.”
“Then what do we do?”
“Well, I have some Nine-Curved Bone-Piercing Nails in my bag. We could straighten them out to use as nails.”
“That works, but what about a hammer?”
“If they don’t even have nails, where would we find a hammer? Use your Iron Finger technique to press them in.”
“That could work. Wait, wait, wait… Are those bone-piercing nails poisoned?”
“Uh, well, yes. But I have the antidote. You could take some first, just in case you scratch yourself. The poison is a bit… potent.”
“How potent?”
“Not too bad, just… instantly fatal if it enters the bloodstream.”
“…”
As the two henchmen bantered, Fan Xingjia sighed deeply into his bowl, feeling a sense of melancholy.
The night deepened. Through the gaps in the intertwined vines forming the dome above, starlight and moonlight filtered down, transforming the damp, cold forest hideaway into a dreamlike scene.
Cai Zhao, troubled and unable to sleep, decided to take a walk. After a couple of rounds, she encountered Song Yuzhi sighing to himself in the empty vegetable garden behind the house.
“Third Senior Brother!” Cai Zhao’s eyes lit up. After glancing around, she hurried over. “I’m so glad to see you. I have something important to tell you!”
Song Yuzhi stood tall and elegant, his thick eyebrows slightly furrowed. “Why are you whispering and looking around? We’re far from the houses; there’s no need to worry about disturbing the villagers’ rest.”
He thought she looked like a little thief.
Cai Zhao felt embarrassed, thinking to herself that she was trying to avoid that madman. “Well, it’s still someone else’s place. It’s better to be quiet,” she said. She took out a wrapped handkerchief from her bosom and opened it in front of Song Yuzhi. “Third Senior Brother, look at this.”
Inside the handkerchief was a short, twisted vine segment covered in a thin layer of reddish, sticky liquid.
Seeing Song Yuzhi’s confusion, Cai Zhao explained, “I cut this from the vines deep in the Blood Swamp today. I’ve tested it on rabbits, chickens, and ducks. Even with just a small skin wound, contact with this vine sap causes immediate paralysis. They can’t struggle at all, just like your condition yesterday.”
Song Yuzhi’s pupils dilated in shock and disbelief.
“I assume Fifth Senior Brother has told you about the hidden dart incident,” Cai Zhao continued. “When I saw this vine, I immediately understood.” She took a deep breath. “The person who attacked you has above-average martial arts skills, but they know your cultivation level and techniques well enough to predict your next move. I remember that although you trained at Qingque Sect, you haven’t abandoned Guangtianmen’s techniques. You must have been using a Song family special technique at that time.”
Song Yuzhi’s expression grew serious. The girl had guessed correctly—when he was hit by the dart, he had been using the Song family’s “Sixteen Cloud-Parting Techniques” to evade.
Cai Zhao continued, “At the same time, this person is familiar with this dense forest and knows about these vines deep in the swamp that secrete a paralyzing sap.”
The Blood Swamp was just north of Guangtianmen.
Song Yuzhi stood alone under the moonlight, his figure as still as an ice sculpture. The identity of his attacker was becoming clear. He spoke with difficulty, “Elder Brother… why would he want to harm me? So, was Second Brother also falsely accused by him?”
“I don’t know. I’m not familiar with your family affairs,” Cai Zhao said firmly, refusing to get involved in the Song family’s internal strife. Her mother, Ning Xiaofeng, always ended her lectures on the drawbacks of large families with multiple wives by saying, “Just watch, if the Song family keeps going on like this, they’re bound to have a major crisis.”
The two stood outside for a while in silence, then walked back to the houses through a large field. As they entered the small courtyard, they saw Mu Qingyan slowly descending from the three-story high roof—the third floor had a large flat top used for drying wild vegetables and mushrooms, with a vine ladder on the side for access.
Seeing Mu Qingyan’s cold, star-like gaze, Cai Zhao hurriedly explained, “No, no, I didn’t intentionally seek out Third Senior Brother. I couldn’t sleep and was just wandering outside when I happened to meet him!”
“Oh,” Mu Qingyan said flatly. “Why was the Third Young Master wandering outside in the middle of the night?”
Song Yuzhi replied coldly, “I was admiring the scenery. May I ask what Sect Leader Mu was doing?”
Mu Qingyan responded, “What a coincidence, I was also admiring the scenery.”
Cai Zhao felt uneasy and didn’t dare to interject.
“Guangtianmen’s sudden changes have left many questions unanswered,” Mu Qingyan suddenly said. “If I were you, I’d investigate Yang He’ying.”
Song Yuzhi’s eyelid twitched. “What do you mean, Sect Leader Mu?”
Mu Qingyan asked, “Do you know the maiden name of Yang He’ying’s first wife?”
Cai Zhao racked her brain. “Madam Yang… I think her surname was Zhuo?” She tried to remember. “Madam Zhuo seems to be the only child of the Guanzhong magnate, Boss Zhuo. Everyone says that the entire Zhuo family fortune became her dowry.”
This mismatched marriage clearly showed Siqimen’s intentions, which weren’t particularly honorable. However, in Ning Xiaofeng’s view, this was a case of the apple not falling far from the tree. After all, hadn’t Sect Leader Yin Dai of the First Sect directly snatched up the only son of the Guo family, the richest in Jiangnan, as his disciple? That wasn’t any more sophisticated.
Cai Zhao scoffed, “My mother said that even with her lavish dowry, Madam Zhuo couldn’t stop that scoundrel Yang He’ying from his philandering ways. But what does this have to do with the changes at Guangtianmen?”
Mu Qingyan explained, “Actually, Boss Zhuo was Madam Zhuo’s maternal grandfather. She took her mother’s surname.”
Song Yuzhi’s interest was piqued. “Then what was her father’s surname?”
“Huang,” Mu Qingyan smiled warmly. “Indeed, Madam Zhuo’s birth father was the old leader of the Huangsha Gang. Her mother died in childbirth, and the childless Boss Zhuo, in his grief, asked his son-in-law for his granddaughter to raise.”
Cai Zhao and Song Yuzhi exchanged surprised glances.
“The old Huang leader was kind-hearted. He sympathized with Boss Zhuo’s loss and loved his eldest daughter who grew up away from him. He only remarried ten years later to have more children. Sha Zuguang was originally a disciple of the Huangsha Gang. The old Huang hero saw his intelligence and capability and married his second daughter to him. You know what happened after that.”
The Huangsha Gang, refusing to submit to Nie Hengcheng, suffered heavy losses in several fierce battles. Sha Zuguang seized the opportunity during his father-in-law’s decline to offer his beautiful younger sister as a concubine to Yang He’ying, establishing his power base and neglecting his first wife, Madam Huang, to pursue his pleasures.
Song Yuzhi couldn’t help but ask, “How do you know these old secrets so clearly?”
Mu Qingyan glanced at him, “As two-hundred-year-old arch-enemies, how could the Demonic Sect not thoroughly investigate the backgrounds of the Six Sects’ leaders?”
Song Yuzhi was nearly infuriated by this sarcastic tone.
Cai Zhao asked, “Did the old Huang leader know about his daughter’s mistreatment?”
“What could he do even if he knew? Besides, Madam Huang soon passed away from illness.”
“Passed away?” Cai Zhao felt something was off but couldn’t pinpoint it.
Mu Qingyan continued, “Afterwards, the old Huang leader, disheartened, took his family and injured brothers to live in seclusion on Seven Bathing Mountain, no longer associating with the martial world, with one exception…”
Cai Zhao understood, “Madam Zhuo. The old Huang leader must have been concerned about his eldest daughter in Siqimen and secretly corresponded with her, which Yang He’ying discovered.”
Song Yuzhi still didn’t understand, “But that’s no reason to kill the entire family of the old Huang hero.”
Mu Qingyan explained, “Months ago, our spies discovered traces of corpse puppets on Seven Bathing Mountain. Soon after, we heard that Yang and Sha were storming Guangtianmen. Initially, I thought Song Maozhi was secretly creating corpse puppets and Yang He’ying had caught him, intending to blackmail Sect Leader Song. But since Song Maozhi is dead, the situation is not as I initially thought.”
After some contemplation, Song Yuzhi and Cai Zhao understood the implications. Song Yuzhi, his mind in turmoil, asked, “What exactly does Yang want to do?”
“Think about it,” Mu Qingyan said. “If someone was indeed creating corpse puppets on Seven Bathing Mountain, and it wasn’t Song Maozhi, then who was it?”
Cai Zhao’s eyes lit up, “We’ve got it backward. It wasn’t Young Master Maozhi’s corpse puppets that were discovered, but Yang He’ying’s. When Song Xiuzhi found out, they decided to make a big gamble—conveniently, Song Xiuzhi is also Yang He’ying’s future son-in-law.”
“Yang He’ying is utterly ruthless and deserves to be executed!” Song Yuzhi exclaimed, breathing heavily. “How could my elder brother associate with such a person? What are they after?”
Mu Qingyan calmly replied, “What else could it be? Look at the current situation. Your brother Song Maozhi is dead, your great-uncle is ‘gravely injured’ and likely won’t live long, and your father Song Shijun is seriously injured. So, who will inherit the position of Guangtianmen’s leader?”
Song Yuzhi staggered, grasping the doorframe in shock and anger. “How could this be? My elder brother isn’t that kind of person! He’s always been gentle and peaceful, never fighting for power. How could he do such a thing?”
“Don’t get too upset, Third Senior Brother. The truth will come out eventually,” Cai Zhao said, now feeling more composed. Seeing Song Yuzhi’s distress, she moved to help him back to his room.
Mu Qingyan, with a sincere expression, stepped in front of her, looking like a caring friend supporting a classmate. He gently pushed Cai Zhao aside and supported Song Yuzhi by the elbow, offering ‘comforting’ words as they walked, “Don’t be afraid or sad, Brother Song. It’s just a matter of family betrayal and fraternal strife, oh, and your father’s uncertain fate. It’s nothing extraordinary. Song Xiuzhi killed his brother and harmed his father—you just need to chop off his head, Brother Song. Don’t forget to cut out his heart and liver for a blood wine ceremony…”
Cai Zhao stood behind them, hands on her hips, glaring helplessly before returning to her room to sleep.