As they returned to Qingque Sect, lanterns were already lit. Chang Ning and Cai Zhao had just caught the last iron chain pulley at Wanshui Qianshan Cliff before nightfall. Soon, the gates would close, blocking the path. Without a pass, no one could cross the cliff at night.
Cai Zhao skipped ahead, hands clasped behind her back. Noticing her cheerful demeanor, Chang Ning asked, “What were you and your father discussing earlier?” He recalled being invited to drink tea in the inn’s main hall, only to end up with half a bowl of cold well water.
Smiling, Cai Zhao turned back and replied, “Father said he’d come to the mountain to see Master early tomorrow morning.”
Chang Ning was skeptical. “That’s all he said?” He had drunk half a bowl of cold water, after all.
Cai Zhao continued, “Father also mentioned that with the current situation, the jianghu would likely face turmoil again. He told me to quickly return to Luoying Valley and hide if things looked bad. Amitabha, how wise!”
Chang Ning chuckled, “Valley Master Cai is truly honest. I thought you might follow your aunt’s path of chivalry and refuse to retreat. Well, it’s good you’re not like her.”
“Not all younger generations are like their elders,” Cai Zhao smiled. “You’re not much like the great hero Chang either.”
Chang Ning’s pupils suddenly constricted. “What did you say?”
Cai Zhao turned around, hopping backward. “Just what I said.”
Chang Ning stopped, his face darkening.
Noticing a large lake nearby, Cai Zhao looked around. “You’ve chosen a good spot. It’s deserted here, perfect for a chat.”
“Zhao Zhao, if you have something to say, go ahead,” said the young man in flowing robes, standing by the water like a banished immortal… or perhaps a demon masquerading as one.
Cai Zhao’s eyes glimmered. “Brother Chang, you’re not good at pretending. Since leaving Jiuli Mountain, you’ve put on an act of being ill-tempered, driving away everyone who cared for you, genuinely or not. This way, no one would notice anything amiss about you.”
Chang Ning asked, “What’s amiss about me?”
“At first, I thought your irritability was due to your childhood illness,” Cai Zhao explained. “But as we spent more time together, I realized you’re not just moody, but also reckless and impulsive. When seeking revenge on those who bullied you, you disregard everything else, prioritizing your satisfaction.”
“The great hero Chang has been righteous and kind-hearted for decades. Even if he doted on his sickly son, he would have taught him proper behavior. The real Brother Chang wouldn’t act as recklessly as you do. Am I right, ‘Brother Chang’?” Cai Zhao stared at him.
Chang Ning smirked. “Well said. But you forget, I’m no longer the Chang Ning I used to be. After my family’s tragedy and massacre, couldn’t my heart have changed dramatically?”
Cai Zhao nodded. “I considered that too, but while one’s heart can change, combat experience can’t appear out of thin air.”
She continued, “That day at Wanshui Qianshan Cliff, you deduced the victims’ fates and the Demonic Sect’s strategy just by examining a dozen corpses. Such skills aren’t developed in isolation; they require witnessing numerous deaths and engaging in many battles.”
“The great hero Chang’s son was frail for over a decade, only recently recovering. He’d be busy catching up on training, not gaining such ‘experience.’ Even my father probably noticed something off. How could your strength be almost fully restored while your face remains covered in poisonous sores?”
“And then there’s your ‘Chang family swordsmanship.’ I don’t use a sword because I’m only accustomed to my knife, which I often forget to bring, so I make do with any sword at hand. But why do you, Brother Chang, use your left hand instead of your dominant right?”
Chang Ning remained silent, then asked, “What does Zhao Zhao think is the reason?”
“Because your right-hand technique is too powerful. If you unleashed it while using a sword, it might raise suspicions,” Cai Zhao explained. “Even if young Chang were a prodigy, he’s only been practicing martial arts for two or three years. Wouldn’t it be strange if ‘Brother Chang’ could wield a sword with the force of wind and thunder?”
“Coupled with your hot temper that can’t tolerate bullying and your proud disregard for consequences—’ Brother Chang,’ your previous life must have been one of great honor and privilege.” The girl smiled knowingly.
Chang Ning didn’t smile. “So, who does Zhao Zhao think I am?”
Cai Zhao replied lightly, “I don’t know. As my father said, how could one guess such a thing?”
Chang Ning gazed at her quietly. “Then why hasn’t Zhao Zhao reported this to Sect Leader Qi to have me captured and interrogated?”
Cai Zhao sighed, “Although you might be an impostor, many of the secrets you’ve revealed are true, and your ‘Willow Catkin Sword Technique’ is genuine.”
“Especially the stories about my aunt’s youth—I can’t imagine why the great hero Chang would share such detailed accounts unless he wanted to. Moreover, with his skills, if he were coerced, he could easily have sabotaged the inner cultivation methods while teaching them.”
The girl paused, her gaze fixed on Chang Ning. “For the great hero Chang to wholeheartedly teach his family martial arts and gradually reveal his past over a long period—I believe you must be someone he deeply trusts.”
After a long silence, ‘Chang Ning’ exhaled deeply. “I underestimated you, Zhao Zhao.”
Cai Zhao replied sincerely, “You weren’t very guarded around me.”
The young man pondered for a moment. “Do you want to know who I am?”
“Tell me if you want to, don’t if you don’t. You haven’t decided how to explain it yet, have you?” Cai Zhao stared at him intently. “For now, I only want to know one thing—is the great hero Chang’s son still alive?”
The young man spoke very slowly, “He’s alive, but you might as well consider him dead.”
Cai Zhao’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”
The young man shook his head. “Two or three years ago, when he finally showed signs of recovery, the great hero Chang joyfully began teaching him inner cultivation techniques. But when Madam Chang saw this, she became hysterical, fearing her son would follow in the footsteps of her father and brothers. One day, while young Chang was in seclusion, Madam Chang burst in, screaming and trying to stop him from practicing. This caused him to lose control of his inner energy, destroying his meridians and rendering him incapable of martial arts for life.”
“He was unconscious for days, and when he awoke, he had lost all his memories. After much deliberation, the great hero Chang decided this might be for the best. He sent his son away with a loyal servant, to live in anonymity in the countryside, erasing the existence of Chang Ning.”
The young man looked up at the moon. “A few months later, the Demonic Sect massacred the Chang family. The great hero Chang found some solace in this, believing that Heaven had shown mercy by sparing Chang Ning’s life, allowing him to live as an ordinary person, raising a family like anyone else.”
Cai Zhao’s expression darkened. “Such a major event as the Chang family’s massacre… Didn’t the old servant say anything?”
“Even if he did, nothing could be done,” the young man replied. “Before departing, the great hero Chang repeatedly instructed the old servant never to think of the jianghu or the Chang family again, not even if he died. The servant’s only duty was to take care of his son, and that would be enough to repay his debt. The old servant swore a blood oath to comply.”
Cai Zhao sighed deeply. “Perhaps it’s for the best. High positions bring danger; being an ordinary wealthy man might not be so bad.”
After a moment of silence, the young man couldn’t help but ask, “Don’t you want to know who I am?”
Cai Zhao smiled, her small face both charming and innocent. “Are the words from your mouth necessarily true?” One who could impersonate another could just as easily lie.
“Is it wise for you not to expose me?” The young man was still surprised.
As Cai Zhao began walking again, she replied, “Whether it’s wise or not, this is how it is. After all, the great hero Chang trusts you, and Master personally entrusted you to me. What would I, a new disciple of barely half a month, know about such matters?”
The young man strode forward, blocking the girl’s path. “I thought you were intent on emulating Lady Cai.”
Young Miss Cai’s face darkened. “My father doesn’t want me to be like my aunt… My mother says nice things, but I know her heart agrees with Father. Although Aunt is the person I admire most, I’m afraid I can’t be like her.”
She looked up. “Tomorrow, I’ll move to Chunling Cottage. ‘Brother Chang’… I’ll still call you that. Take care of yourself.” With those words, she walked away without looking back.
Chang Ning watched her retreating figure for a long time, unmoving. Logically, he should have felt relieved, yet an inexplicable gloom settled over him.
…
Perhaps due to the reassurance of seeing her father, Cai Zhao fell asleep quickly that night.
However, she dreamed.
In her dream, her aunt was young, just as her mother had described: rosy-cheeked, radiant, with ever-smiling eyes full of life and fearlessness. She whispered in her little niece’s ear, “Little Zhao Zhao, don’t be afraid of the dark. Monsters will always be driven away, and it will always get bright again…”
The little girl cried inconsolably, shouting, “Auntie, don’t leave me scared!”
Then she woke up.
Cai Zhao sat up, drenched in cold sweat, the outside world shrouded in nightmare-like darkness.
She stared blankly into space—why was she afraid?
Her father had returned, her mother and brother were safely staying with the Ning family, and everyone was safe.
Even if the jianghu outside was in chaos, they could simply close off Luoying Valley, and it wouldn’t concern their family at all.
Defiantly, she lay back down, determined to sleep even if she couldn’t. She was no longer a child; being scared and sleepless by a nightmare was embarrassing.
After drifting in and out of sleep for over half an hour, the inky sky began to lighten. Suddenly, a commotion erupted outside. Half-asleep, Cai Zhao heard Furong’s startled cry, Feicui’s calm rebuke, and a flurry of panicked footsteps.
Then came the sound of Chang Ning pushing open his door, his voice incredulous as he asked, “What nonsense are you talking about? What do you mean he’s gone?”
Soon after, she was roused and informed—Cai Pingchun had disappeared.
…
A long line of people filed through the pitch-black abyss, the iron chains swaying as they held aloft their torches.
Given the gravity of the situation, even Qi Yunke, still recovering from poison, was carried down the mountain on a lounge chair.
In the darkness, flickering flames cast an unreal light on every face. Zeng Dalou’s busy urgency, Dai Fengchi’s schadenfreude, Song Yuzhi’s anxiety, and Fan Xingjia’s surprise all seemed like actors taking the stage in full makeup.
Cai Zhao couldn’t see anyone clearly, and couldn’t distinguish between them. Only Chang Ning, supporting her, felt real. His arm was warm and strong, his muscles firm, grounding her.
Arriving at the Yuelai Inn, they found it surrounded by torch-bearing Qingque Sect disciples, with unfamiliar faces Cai Zhao had seen during the day forming an outer circle.
A trembling, terrified old farmer was pushed to the front.
This farmer supplied fresh food to the Yuelai Inn. Though business was slow, the innkeeper and staff still needed to eat, so he delivered fresh fish, meat, and vegetables every day before dawn.
Today, he had knocked for a long time with no response, yet light seeped through the door crack, indicating someone was inside. Having delivered to this inn for years, he knew of an always-unlocked door.
Carrying his pole, he went around to that door, passed through the kitchen into the main hall, and saw blood-soaked corpses strewn about. Terrified, he immediately reported to the sect’s managers.
The inn’s main door stood open, the counter overturned. Pen, ink, paper, account books, and copper keys lay scattered. The innkeeper’s body lay face-down among fallen room number plaques, next to an extinguished brazier.
Everyone rushed upstairs to search for Cai Pingchun, discovering five more bodies along the way.
On the second floor, in room number one, the furniture and bedding were neat and clean, teacups arranged in a plum blossom pattern as if no one had ever stayed there.
Cai Zhao hurried to check the bed. The quilt was neatly folded, showing no signs of use.
The room was eerily empty, unrecognizable as the place where father and daughter had laughed and talked not long ago. There were no signs of a struggle; clearly, someone had meticulously cleaned up.
Everyone exchanged bewildered glances as an uncanny atmosphere permeated the room.
“Where has my father gone?” Cai Zhao mumbled to herself.
Zeng Dalou comforted her, “Don’t worry, let’s keep looking.”
Qi Yunke, supported by others, stood nearby, coughing softly.
Exiting room number one, they found the first waiter’s body curled up by the door.
The second waiter’s body lay sprawled over the stair railing.
Midway down the stairs, the third waiter lay face-down on the steps.
In the main hall, two bodies were curled up on opposite sides. The one on the left, corpulent and clutching a kitchen knife, was poised to strike an enemy—the cook.
“How many people worked at this inn?” Zeng Dalou asked.
A disciple answered, “One innkeeper, one cook, four waiters… They’re all here.”
“How many guests were staying?”
This time, Cai Zhao answered, “Tonight, only my father was staying here.”
Another unsettling silence fell.
“First, examine the bodies,” Qi Yunke said, needing to sit down and rest as his body weakened.
Zeng Dalou complied.
Cai Zhao felt unsteady as if half her strength had been drained. She relied entirely on Chang Ning’s support.
Descending the stairs in a daze, she forcefully pushed Chang Ning away, feigning composure as she leaned against a pillar in the main hall. Her whole body felt cold, hands and feet trembling uncontrollably.
The innkeeper’s body was turned over, revealing his familiar sallow face. Everyone gasped in shock—there was a bloody hole in his chest. His heart had been ripped out, hanging by a few bloody strands outside his body, his limbs limp and lifeless.
Zeng Dalou started, then ordered, “Turn over the other bodies as well.”
The disciples complied immediately—indeed, the other five victims also had bloody holes in their chests, their hearts hanging outside their bodies, and their limbs broken.
Dai Fengchi cried out, “This is the Thousand Flowers and Leaves Grappling Technique of Luoying Valley!”
Everyone was shocked, their gazes turning to Cai Zhao.
The Thousand Flowers and Leaves Grappling Technique was Luoying Valley’s ultimate skill, comprising twenty-one moves. The first twenty were for subduing enemies, but only the last, “Plucking Flowers and Leaves,” was lethal.
This move first broke the opponent’s limbs before striking the heart. Those with profound skill could rip out a person’s heart; even those with less power could pierce the chest cavity and kill.
Due to its brutality, many valley masters were reluctant to use it.
However, eighteen years ago, during the Tushan battle, Cai Pingchu lost all her martial arts skills, and Luoying Valley teetered on the brink. To intimidate evil forces, Cai Pingchun used “Plucking Flowers and Leaves” to kill dozens in the battle at Qingluo River, staining the riverbank with blood and terrifying all who witnessed it.
“Second Senior Brother is jumping to conclusions. How can you determine it’s Luoying Valley’s technique from just one wound?” Fan Xingjia said, noticing Cai Zhao’s pale face by the pillar and feeling pity for her.
Dai Fengchi replied arrogantly, “What do you know? Look at the wound locations and the force used. All six were killed instantly, and except for the innkeeper’s slight resistance, the other five had no chance to fight back. Such a powerful move can only be ‘Plucking Flowers and Leaves’!”
“Second Senior Brother is mistaken,” Song Yuzhi suddenly interjected. “The Heart-Plucking Technique of the Guangmen Sect is equally powerful.”
Dai Fengchi was taken aback but quickly retorted, “The Heart-Plucking Technique only takes the heart, but ‘Plucking Flowers and Leaves’ also breaks the victim’s limbs. Look, aren’t all six bodies’ limbs broken?”
Everyone looked and saw that it was indeed so.
Chang Ning spoke coldly, “I don’t know Luoying Valley’s techniques, yet I could still break Second Senior Brother’s limbs and rip out your heart. Would you like to try?”
Dai Fengchi choked, “Are you threatening me?!”
“I wouldn’t dare. I’m merely informing Second Senior Brother that there are many techniques. With sufficient skill, one can kill in any way desired,” Chang Ning said calmly.
Dai Fengchi fell silent in anger.
“Everyone, look at the ground. What’s that?” Fan Xingjia spoke again.
Following his gesture, they saw that near the overturned counter, the innkeeper’s bloodstained fingertip had drawn a short vertical line on the floor beneath his body.
“A vertical line? What could it mean?” Zeng Dalou wondered, perplexed.
Fan Xingjia bent down to examine it. “Perhaps it’s an unfinished character. But which one?”
Dai Fengchi spoke up again, “Maybe it’s not a vertical line, but a short horizontal one.”
“A horizontal line?” Fan Xingjia asked, confused.
Cai Zhao’s voice was cold, “The character for ‘Luo’ in Luoying Valley starts with a horizontal stroke.”
She turned to Dai Fengchi, “Second Senior Brother, if you have something to say, say it outright. Hinting at things is cowardly, and no one understands you anyway.”
Provoked, Dai Fengchi exploded, “Fine, I’ll speak plainly! The situation is clear. Last night, a waiter accidentally stumbled upon your father doing something suspicious in his room. Startled, the waiter made a noise. Your father, upon discovering this, killed the waiter and then eliminated everyone in the inn to keep his secret safe!”
“I don’t think so,” Chang Ning mocked. “After all, Young Master Dai has seen through the mystery, hasn’t he? This attempt at silencing witnesses was utterly ineffective.”
Dai Fengchi retorted, “Perhaps in his haste, Valley Master Cai didn’t think it through carefully.”
“If an idiot like you can figure it out, it’s not a matter of haste but of complete brainlessness,” Chang Ning sneered. “Since Valley Master Cai certainly has a brain, the situation couldn’t have been as you describe.”
Dai Fengchi’s face reddened.
“Second Senior Brother,” Cai Zhao suddenly smiled, “You know that the Six Northern Sects have been repeatedly attacked by the Demonic Sect recently, right?”
Dai Fengchi flinched, “Y-yes, I know. So what?!”
“I’ve been wondering, for the Demonic Sect to succeed so often, could they have an insider within the Six Sects?” Cai Zhao’s expression hardened as she glared at him. “Second Senior Brother, are you that insider for the Demonic Sect?!”
“What nonsense are you spouting?! Don’t you dare slander me!” Dai Fengchi was so agitated he nearly jumped.
Cai Zhao stepped forward, pressing on, “Years ago, Old Sect Leader Yin said that the Six Northern Sects are like branches of the same tree, limbs of the same body. As long as we remain united without suspicion, the Demonic Sect can never defeat us.”
“But look at this now. Second Senior Brother, you first concluded it was Luoying Valley’s technique based solely on the wounds. Then, from a mere blood stain on the ground, you accused my father of some nefarious deed—ha! Second Senior Brother, your talent is wasted here; you should be telling stories at a teahouse for a few copper coins!”
Dai Fengchi was left speechless, sweat beading on his forehead.
Cai Zhao took another step, her presence overwhelming. “My father was away for half a month. He could have conducted secret business anytime, anywhere. Why would he rush back to Qingque Town, openly stay at an inn, and then hurriedly engage in covert activities before the staff even went to bed—is he both mad and stupid?!”
“Second Senior Brother, are you trying to sow discord among the Six Sects? Are you truly not a mole from the Demonic Sect?! How else could you so hastily accuse my father with such absurd reasoning!”
Dai Fengchi was drenched in sweat, veins bulging in his neck.
Zeng Dalou spoke gravely, “Fengchi, you’re in the wrong this time. Zhao Zhao is already anxious and worried about her missing father. As her senior, you should be comforting her, not spouting such nonsense! Fengchi, apologize to Zhao Zhao!”
Reluctantly, with the disdainful gazes of the other disciples upon him, Dai Fengchi bowed to Cai Zhao and apologized.
“It’s fine,” Cai Zhao waved her hand. “We’re all set siblings. Second Senior Brother, just don’t take it to heart.”
She continued, “To dispel Second Senior Brother’s doubts, everyone can examine these six bodies closely. The chest wounds are all slightly angled, indicating that the attacker stood facing the victims.”
When two people face each other, and one strikes the other’s chest, the wound can’t be perfectly vertical. It will always be slightly angled due to the use of either the left or right hand.
“Second Senior Brother is young and inexperienced, clearly unfamiliar with the Thousand Flowers and Leaves Grappling Technique. You should ask Outer Sect Elder Li or Medicine Pavilion Elder Lei. They’ll tell you that ‘Plucking Flowers and Leaves’ is performed with a sideways palm strike. The wound from this move would be perfectly straight!”
The girl’s contemptuous tone cut like a knife, leaving Dai Fengchi utterly humiliated, unable to even lift his head.
The disciples in the hall let out soft hisses, expressing their disapproval of Dai Fengchi.
No one knew that despite Cai Zhao’s composed exterior, her heart was in turmoil.
She suddenly recalled her earlier dream.
“Little Zhao Zhao, don’t be afraid, dawn will always come…” Her aunt’s voice, both gentle and brave, echoed in her mind. As a child, no matter how dark the night or how terrifying the nightmare was, hearing her aunt’s voice had always dispelled her fears.
Three years ago, when her aunt passed away, she felt as if half her world had collapsed.
Now, with her father missing and her mother unable to help, she had to face the monsters alone and wait for the dawn.
“I’m cold,” she suddenly said. “Let’s light the brazier.”